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lumsel · 1 year

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chinese room 2

So there’s this guy, right? He sits in a room by himself, with a computer and a keyboard full of Chinese characters. He doesn’t know Chinese, though, in fact he doesn’t even realise that Chinese is a language. He just thinks it’s a bunch of odd symbols. Anyway, the computer prints out a paragraph of Chinese, and he thinks, whoa, cool shapes. And then a message is displayed on the computer monitor: which character comes next?

This guy has no idea how the hell he’s meant to know that, so he just presses a random character on the keyboard. And then the computer goes BZZZT, wrong! The correct character was THIS one, and it flashes a character on the screen. And the guy thinks, augh, dammit! I hope I get it right next time. And sure enough, computer prints out another paragraph of Chinese, and then it asks the guy, what comes next?

He guesses again, and he gets it wrong again, and he goes augh again, and this carries on for a while. But eventually, he presses the button and it goes DING! You got it right this time! And he is so happy, you have no idea. This is the best day of his life. He is going to do everything in his power to make that machine go DING again. So he starts paying attention. He looks at the paragraph of Chinese printed out by the machine, and cross-compares it against all the other paragraphs he’s gotten. And, recall, this guy doesn’t even know that this is a language, it’s just a sequence of weird symbols to him. But it’s a sequence that forms patterns. He notices that if a particular symbol is displayed, then the next symbol is more likely to be this one. He notices some symbols are more common in general. Bit by bit, he starts to draw statistical inferences about the symbols, he analyses the printouts every way he can, he writes extensive notes to himself on how to recognise the patterns.

Over time, his guesses begin to get more and more accurate. He hears those lovely DING sounds that indicate his prediction was correct more and more often, and he manages to use that to condition his instincts better and better, picking up on cues consciously and subconsciously to get better and better at pressing the right button on the keyboard. Eventually, his accuracy is like 70% or something -- pretty damn good for a guy who doesn’t even know Chinese is a language.

* * *

One day, something odd happens.

He gets a printout, the machine asks what character comes next, and he presses a button on the keyboard and-- silence. No sound at all. Instead, the machine prints out the exact same sequence again, but with one small change. The character he input on the keyboard has been added to the end of the sequence.

Which character comes next?

This weirds the guy out, but he thinks, well. This is clearly a test of my prediction abilities. So I’m not going to treat this printout any differently to any other printout made by the machine -- shit, I’ll pretend that last printout I got? Never even happened. I’m just going to keep acting like this is a normal day on the job, and I’m going to predict the next symbol in this sequence as if it was one of the thousands of printouts I’ve seen before. And that’s what he does! He presses what symbol comes next, and then another printout comes out with that symbol added to the end, and then he presses what he thinks will be the next symbol in that sequence. And then, eventually, he thinks, “hm. I don’t think there’s any symbol after this one. I think this is the end of the sequence.” And so he presses the “END” button on his keyboard, and sits back, satisfied.

Unbeknownst to him, the sequence of characters he input wasn’t just some meaningless string of symbols. See, the printouts he was getting, they were all always grammatically correct Chinese. And that first printout he’d gotten that day in particular? It was a question: “How do I open a door.” The string of characters he had just input, what he had determined to be the most likely string of symbols to come next, formed a comprehensible response that read, “You turn the handle and push”.

* * *

One day you decide to visit this guy’s office. You’ve heard he’s learning Chinese, and for whatever reason you decide to test his progress. So you ask him, “Hey, which character means dog?”

He looks at you like you’ve got two heads. You may as well have asked him which of his shoes means “dog”, or which of the hairs on the back of his arm. There’s no connection in his mind at all between language and his little symbol prediction game, indeed, he thinks of it as an advanced form of mathematics rather than anything to do with linguistics. He hadn’t even conceived of the idea that what he was doing could be considered a kind of communication any more than algebra is. He says to you, “Buddy, they’re just funny symbols. No need to get all philosophical about it.”

Suddenly, another printout comes out of the machine. He stares at it, puzzles over it, but you can tell he doesn’t know what it says. You do, though. You’re fluent in the language. You can see that it says the words, “Do you actually speak Chinese, or are you just a guy in a room doing statistics and shit?”

The guy leans over to you, and says confidently, “I know it looks like a jumble of completely random characters. But it’s actually a very sophisticated mathematical sequence,” and then he presses a button on the keyboard. And another, and another, and another, and slowly but surely he composes a sequence of characters that, unbeknownst to him, reads “Yes, I know Chinese fluently! If I didn’t I would not be able to speak with you.”

That is how ChatGPT works.

#txt #ai shit #it’s not a perfect analogy #chatgpt doesn't think the symbols have no meaning #rather it doesn't think at all #all it does is the maths #but still #effortpost

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ellecdc · 2 months

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hi gorgeous!! I love your writings so much :)

I was wondering if u could request a poly!marauders x fem!reader who just loves baking so much and keeps leaving the boys little treats around the house depending on what each boy likes and they’re just so lovestruck for her, just like lots of fluff and them being the lover boys they are

thank you so much <3

this is so sweet! thanks for requesting, I hope you love it!! 💖

poly!marauders x fem!reader who loves to bake

James walked in to the flat and was immediately bombarded with the smell of freshly baked goods. One would think after three weeks of you living with them that he would have grown accustomed to it, but the expression on his face grew into what he could only imagine was pure, unadulterated bliss at the welcoming aroma that he could only describe as distinctly you.

He’d hardly gotten his shoes off and hung his jacket before Pads was yanking him past the kitchen and into the living room.

“Sshh! Don’t interrupt, just watch.” Sirius stressed and he forced James to kneel on the sofa facing the window into the kitchen. James had half a mind of squawking at him but couldn’t deny the beautiful picture this painted.

“He’s been in there with her all day.” Sirius offered as James watched Remus follow you around the kitchen as if the two of you had been charmed into magnets, and he was hopelessly drawn to you. Apparently, you were either unaware of his proximity or unfazed by it. James didn’t blame you at all, though; he often felt drunk in love when Remus was paying that much attention to him too. He also felt drunk in love when watching you do anything at all. He was sort of drunk in love having Sirius’ arm wrapped around his waist right now.

James was just always drunk in love.

“What could she possibly be making now? I’ve not even finished all the apple turnover’s she made for me!” James murmured, though his concern was belittled by the raging grin spreading across his face.

“I haven’t finished the ginger snaps she made for me either, but she’s making Rem chocolate croissants.” He stage-whispered.

“Oh my gods, that sounds heavenly.” James whispered back, watching Remus make heart eyes at you as you explained something to him; the poor sod wasn’t even paying attention to the instructions. James couldn’t blame him, however, when the instructor was as pretty as you. “Think he’ll share with us?”

“Fat chance.” Remus called from kitchen, apparently privy to the whispered conversation going on in the room next to him. You looked up surprised at Remus’ interjection, apparently not having heard the dialogue.

“What?” You asked innocently, though your brows furrowed in concern – you knew better when it came to these boys.

“Moony says he won’t share the croissants with us, dollface.” Sirius lamented, putting on his best kicked puppy impression. You seemed to melt a little bit at that, but Remus – the bastard – pressed up against you and shoved his nose in the crook of your neck, causing you to melt even more than Sirius could hope from such a distance.

“Oi – foul! Come on!” James cried at the unfair advantage Remus had.

“You boys still have your treats, don’t you?” You asked quietly, clearly more than a little embarrassed at how easily you were swayed by Remus loving-up on you. James almost felt bad about being petulant. Almost.

But not quite.

“Everything you make is so wonderful and filled with love though, angel.” He pouted. Remus groaned in exasperation, though he never bothered to peel himself off of your back.

“Fine. You sods can have some.”

James and Sirius both cheered from their spots on the couch as if they’d been watching football on the telly.

“We’re going to have to get those blood test thingies to watch our blood sugar, though.” Sirius commented.

“Worth it.” Remus and James said in unison.

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daddyricsdoll · 3 months

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False God ✭ Max Verstappen

Summary: Being lost spiritually isn't something you can brag about, but finding a new belief in someone is. From that alluring man in the F1 paddock to finding out he's the Max Verstappen didn't effect you as much as discovering his lips are your new religion even if it's a false god.

Warnings: The use of y/n!! (I used it 2-3 times), unprotected sex (what else could you expect from me?), teasing, reader is a virgin, mirror sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, creampie, praise, and use of names (good girl), also overstimulation and dacyphilia. I don't know if taking a photo of a naked person counts as a warning or spoiler, I guess it's both.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Based off of this request. I would also like to thank @mrsevansxstanxobrien for saving me by giving me a perfect storyline for this. 🧡 And also all everyone who waited for this. I feel like adding more at the end, maybe a part two.

Never would I have ever thought I’d wear this dress. But I’ve been lost, and these girls are helping me become found. I’m not used to the material leaving my shoulders exposed and ending before my knees. Some of my family wouldn’t approve, but I feel… pretty. I would’ve worried that my place in heaven might slowly crumble but now, I don’t know.

I feel so happy and people are looking at me. In my little white dress, the one that hugs my torso and sways around my thighs, loose straps hung above my shoulders.

This feels like heaven. Being in a place I’ve never heard of with my friends as they pull me to different small buildings. “Come on!! We have to find any driver we can. If you see one, tell me!” Lissie smiles, eyes shooting everywhere just like my other two friends.

“I don’t know what any of the drivers look like.” I say my words with worry but chuckles lacing them.

“If you see a good looking guy with people around him, then tell me.” I laugh hearing others agree.

“Oh specifically if they wear red or orange- Ferrari and McLaren drivers, oh even Mercedes which is black.”

“Ok… I’ll try.” Feeling uncertain about this whole thing but I nod. Walking through the paddock and turning my head at every man that would emit a good thought into my head. They looked at me too and I prayed to god hoping it weren't for the wrong reasons.

My friends quickly spotted a driver and we all got photos and signatures, his name was Charles last I recall and now I understand one of the reasons he has so many fans. He signed my paddock pass in record time and then sent us a remarkable smile.

We had to leave him and those dimples to jog the other way for drivers who had just finished FP2, meeting so many as my friends explained to me the whole purpose of this.

Some drivers walked in pairs making it all the more easier for us to capture a second with them.

I was getting one of my friends' hats signed by a driver called George when my eyes left his hand, looking into the crowd all around us. Somehow locking eyes with a stranger, he then looked me up and down a small smirk on his face.

And I could only do the same, my eyes travelled down his body, his jeans that hugged his thick thighs and red bull polo tight around his shoulders then hanging around the rest of his torso. I became flushed and looked away for a second to gain composure but when I looked back he wasn’t there. It was like he was a dream.

“Y/n, you good?” Lissie asked, checking in on me as I hadn’t realised they started walking again. “Oh, um yeah I got distracted. So who else do we have to find?”

“Great question, so I heard that Max is around here somewhere, he might be gone but still keep an eye out for him. And Alex, I love him with my whole heart but our telepathy isn’t telling me where he is.” We both laugh and it feels so good, the afternoon soon reaching the evening. She checks her watch and then looks back at me. “Oh, we have 3 hours until dinner so we can go back to the hotel, do things there, eat, party and then we’ll be back here tomorrow. Sounds good?” I couldn’t say no to that plan so we ended up going back to the hotel.

20 minutes of swimming in the empty hotel pool turned into nearly 2 hours and now we were running a little behind schedule. We rushed to get ready, but oh didn’t we still look good. “We’re gonna meet the other girls there.” Lissie tells me as we get seated in the back of a taxi, adjusting her makeup. I nod, turning my head to look out of the window, I hold the cross around my neck fiddling with it whenever I get too deep into my thoughts.

I cast eyes on many people today but that one guy, from the way he looked at me with a light smirk to the smallest tingling feeling he sent through my body. It was as if he tried to make out my whole personality in one glance, if only I could’ve done the same.

The scenario plays in my head multiple times, each time I react in a different way– my default ways of a smile or being a whole different person by sending him a smirk, or calling him over.

I know I shouldn’t worry about that, if worried is a word close to what I’m experiencing. But my thoughts make the ride shorter and we both hop out of the car, wearing outfits suitable for a restaurant and a dirty club right after. We stood just outside the restaurant waiting for Leah and Milan.

Taxi’s drove past and dropped people off, each one we looked into searching for those two girls. Then suddenly a car made an abrupt stop in front of us. The windows were tinted and it limited our vision inside of the car. Just until the door opened and a partially familiar figure started getting out of the car.

His face came into view and so many emotions ran through me in that second that Lissies scream was the only thing that brought me back. “It’s Max Verstappen! Oh my god! Can I get a photo or a signature or anything?!” She rushes toward him, searching her bag and finding a pen. I was still in shock, he is Max Verstappen?

Next thing I know he’s standing in front of me. “Would you like a photo or signature?” He asks me so kindly, making me wonder if he was the guy whose eyes roamed my body then smirked at me like he knew exactly how I’d react.

“I-um sure. Well I don’t really have anything to sign.” And then a piece of paper is passed to me from Lissie. “Oh, thanks.” I grab it and hold it out to Max, watching as he stares at my face long enough to memorise every inch. He looks away to sign my paper, taking longer than I would’ve thought, but when he gives me that smirk from earlier everything leaves my mind. He then starts walking away, getting interrupted by other fans.

Each step he took further away I wanted to say something even more, call him back, talk to him. But why and what for?

My eyes look down at the paper, his signature, but I see some of the pen ink on the other side, flipping the paper over my breath hitches at what’s written. “Be a good girl” I read, my eyes then following an arrow that points to his number. I lightly squeezed my legs together and tried to force the pink off my cheeks. I couldn’t help but stare at it in disbelief before quickly folding it and shoving it into my bag. “You good?” Lissie asks me.

“Yeah, just surprised.”

“I know, that was really unexpected but luckily we all got something from Max. I got a photo with him as well he looked so fucking good in that suit.”

She was right, he did look so good and that feeling he made me feel, oh it was stronger than before but a small fire between my legs also grew. I just hoped it wasn’t lust, especially for a man I just learnt the name of. ✭

The next morning we were back in the paddock, me being the only one not partially hungover by the drug of alcohol. We started walking past the red bull hospitality, my eyes flickering over to the door praying to see that one man. But my prayer wasn’t answered as FP3 started and I only saw him on a big screen.

Once FP3 finished we stayed in McLaren hospitality for a little while longer waiting to catch a glimpse of the two stars with the fastest lap times. And to our luck both of the Mclaren drivers walked in, but they weren’t the only ones, Max Verstappen walked beside Lando in his dark blue drivers suit. I ran up to them with my friends, letting them congratulate the drivers as I stood back. Not noticing one of the drivers leave until a feather touch of a hand was on my back. “You didn’t call or text me. And I thought you were gonna be my good girl.”

I took a deep breath, somehow knowing exactly whose voice it was.

“It’s gonna take more than that. But tell me… what do you really want?” My voice firmer and somehow trying to gain confidence like his, soon feeling even more flustered when I hear his chuckle beside me. “What do I want? Oh honey, I want you.” My lips part, trying to control my breathing through my mouth. His finger comes beneath my chin and my head is lifted to the side to face him. His fingers trickle down my chin and throat, reaching the cross that sits barely above my cleavage.

“What’s this?”

“It’s um…” I became lost for words, knowing exactly what I would’ve said but I can’t say it to him. He deserves so much more.

“I’m not into this stuff, gods and everything. They don’t really do much for you, but you give them everything.” I shake my head lightly, trying to show my disagreement but not make him want to leave me.

“Oh? My good girl doesn’t believe me?” The fake surprise on his face teases me. “Would your god let me touch you? Would he let me make you cry from my dick?” Max brings his face closer to mine, just enough for his breath to touch my ear. His large hands run down my arms and he grabs a hold of my phone.

“Unlock it.” He commands me, crystal blue eyes hypnotising me. And without a question, I unlocked it.

“Now you have no excuse to not call me.” He shows me his number in which he just typed into my contacts, calling it to watch his phone start ringing. “Now I have yours.” He saves my number, looking back up at me. “Now won’t you tell me your name?”

“Why? You’ll only call me your good girl.” My lips move faster than my mind. Not recognising my own words.

“My good girl, trying to be someone you’re not. Now, tell. Me. Your. Name.”

“Y/n.” I say watching a pleased smile on his perfect lips. And then just like last night he leaves me there, standing thinking about something bigger than the whole world—him. ✭

Up came the race day, the one in which the whole place was filled, park passes, hospitality and grandstands. We came in earlier than usual after the girls all somehow noticed the end of me and Max's last interaction. Going crazy and asking if there’s something between us, what his hands feel like, if I’m his new wag and will I see him after this all.

I thought about that last question longer. I don’t know if god brought us together or maybe he’s something here for something else, but I don’t usually enjoy having no clue what’s going on, so I plan on finding out.

We find a seat in hospitality and when I finally gain the courage to send Max a text I see that he’s beat me to it.

‘You’re not my good girl anymore’

‘Why don’t you come to redbull and I’ll show you what you really are’

I become flushed at his words, squeezing my legs together. Checking the time he sent the message I curse at myself for not seeing it earlier. We have nearly half an hour left until the race and all the drivers are with their teams. I couldn’t possibly go now, so I blame myself for not being able to touch his skin or hear his voice before the race.

So instead I send him a text, replying to the ones he had sent.

‘How about you win the race and I’ll be your good girl’

It barely takes a minute for the message to turn from delivered to read. He starts typing then stops, typing again then stopping. He teases me with that for what feels like hours, until I finally receive something.

‘Be ready, once I’m done you won’t be able to say your name.’

I was speechless, leaving his message on read, letting him know he already stole all the words from me. I turn my phone off, watching the last few pre race interviews before I see Max walk past behind a crowd of people. A tiny smirk on his face, I smile knowing it was for me.

My emotions throughout the whole race were a rollercoaster. Watching a crash between 3 drivers had me praying they were all ok and that it would never come across Max. There were battles all over the circuit, Max managing to never be a part of any as he led the race. I was surprised at how fast the race went by, from complaining about the length of them to now letting the time run right past.

My friends pulled me away once the race ended, telling me we had to watch the podium. And I was glad I let them take me. I watched max from below, majestic being the word to explain him. He wore his suit and sweat trickled on him, hair swept to the side like always. His eyes so soft I couldn’t imagine he was the same man that threatened to make me cry from his dick. I’m not complaining but he looked so content, so happy with himself and he never had needed God's validation.

Everything in my head seems to become blurry, Max’s smile the only thing still keeping me here. I manage to find his eyes, remembering the blue of it from the first time. His lips change and I’m certain I see his signature smirk, just for me.

When both of the national anthems finish they start spraying champagne, becoming my queue to escape to the red bull hospitality. I didn’t have any clue where to go so I waited for him outside the building.

His teammate Checo walked past me, giving me a smile like I was any fan and then a crowd of people were making their way here. All following the man himself, Max Verstappen. He sees me standing there, that one smirk arises on his face before he whispers something to the woman beside him, probably his assistant or something, because once they reach me she smiles and then takes me to his driver's room as Max finishes with all the fans.

I take in the surroundings, the room being small but big enough to fit the things he needs. A decent sized bathroom and a mirror being the door of his cupboard filled with redbull polos, which seem to be the only thing he wears.

“You going through my stuff, doll?” I turn at the noise, seeing Max walk into the room and start unzipping his racing suit.

“No, you left me in a room alone, what else am I to do?”

He chuckles and walks closer to me, his suit now hanging around his waist. He comes closer, nearly caging me into the wall with his body. A few strands of his hair fell and now hang between the two of us. I have nowhere to go, not like I’d ever want to leave, but it’s not like he’d let me.

“I won.” He breathes out.

“And now I’m your good girl.” Max shakes his head, chuckling as his arm rests on the wall above my head.

“You’re not a good girl… but I’m gonna make you one.” He moves his head closer to mine, nearly touching my skin with his lips but he doesn’t make contact. Teasing me by going along my face and down my neck. So close I can feel his breath, but he never touches me. Trailing across my collar bone as I try to ease my breathing.

I lightly arch my back, bringing my chest closer to him, trying to force the contact. But then he stops. He grabs my pendant, the one of a cross.

“You’ve been worshipping the same man for years, would it bring you to hell to worship another? Let’s say… me.”

I don’t have time for a reaction as he smashes his lips into mine, taking my breath away. His hands cup either side of my face, holding me in place as he kisses my lips in a way no other person has before. My body writhes against the wall, having no clue what to do but touch him. Try and touch him in a way no person ever has and ever will.

That my religion is his lips.

I lean into his touch when his hand reaches up my shirt, not touching my breasts yet, but caressing the skin of my back and waist. Max groans into my mouth, lighting a fuse between my legs that I tried to keep out.

My nails dig into his shoulders, fireproof still tight along his body. I can’t control my body, wanting to feel every inch of him against and inside me.

“If you wanna be a good girl, then you can wait.” I whine at his words when his lips leave me. My chest still arched and body screamed with need. “I don’t want you to move.” He tells me, eyes a darker shade and voice commanding. I nod my head quickly, hoping the faster I am, he will be. “So needy.” Max chuckles almost as if he’s teasing me of wanting him so much.

He starts closing the gap between us, standing directly in front of me and looking down because of our heights. I grow accustomed to the heat his body spreads and the pink of his post-race cheeks. Falling for his looks before his touch steals my attention. His fingers slide down the side zip of my short skirt, pulling it down my legs until it reaches the floor. He pushes my legs apart with his foot and my pussy pulses with anticipation.

I observe him as his fingers don’t go close to where I need him, instead doing the job of taking my top off of me. I lift my arms up to help him, feeling the cool air of the room brush against my body.

“Take the rest off.” He tells me, standing back to watch my whole body. Eyes skimming me from top to bottom. My skin turned hot, a mix of emotions making me react in different ways. I nod, slowly taking my clothes off. Smiling to myself when I see Max brush a hand against the bulge in his suit.

Once my panties and bra lay on the floor Max finally comes back. Hands gliding down my arms and then intertwining with my fingers. He guides each of my arms above my head, giving him full access to my body. Making me more vulnerable than I’ve ever been.

The pads of his thumbs barely touch my nipples, forcing a whine out of my mouth and my chest to press into him. He pulls away immediately, draining his contact from me. And then he comes again, sliding his fingers over my nipples and I have to force myself to stay still.

Max’s fingers tickle down my bare body, he goes between my cleavage and caresses my breasts with the light touch of his finger tips. Soon going over my stomach and my lower abdomen. He delays the contact to my core and starts tracing my hip bones with each hand, slipping to my backside as he cups my ass with his hands.

“Fuck.” He mutters. Moving his hands from my backside to start lightly touching my thighs. Max advances to the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs a little wider, making it easier for his eyes and fingers. My lips parted long ago and breathing became uneven. Suspense ran through my veins as I felt the heat from his fingers approach my core.

I was certain my arousal was close to dripping on his fingers, and then he finally touched me. Not as firm as I wanted, but his fingers still make contact. Teasing my clit as his eyes are on me, watching as my bottom lip is drawn between my teeth.

The feeling was so new to me, I had never been touched by a man like this. Do I regret it, not really, because that would mean Max wouldn’t be the first.

A loud moan rips the silence of the room, the filthy sound leaving my mouth. His middle finger runs between my folds and I flinch at the feeling, letting the moan leave my mouth freely watching as Max smiles.

My climax surely builds up from his teasing strokes.

I then lose the feeling of his fingers, a cry leaving my mouth. “Be my good girl and show me how you make yourself cum.”

“I thought you were gonna make me a good girl. But I guess you’re not as good as I thought.” I slide my hand down my body, going down the trail between my legs. My eyes firm on Max as many emotions run across his face. I touch my clit and be sure to moan louder and longer than when Max touched me. My eyes were closed that I didn’t see as Max made his way closer, but his loud steps were enough.

My hand his forces off my body and held above my head. Max’s other hand now occupying the job he told me to do myself. He doesn’t take his time now. Thrusting two digits inside of me with force. “I’ll make you cum. Give me a number.”

“Three.” I whine out between each of his thrusts, focusing on the harsh face he gives me.

“Fuck, making it so easy for me. I already made you cum once.” He chuckles at the confusion on my face. Pulling his fingers out of me and showing me my cum that moves down them. I moan at the sight, then once again as he shoves them in his mouth. My eyes stuck on his tongue as he circles each finger. When he pulls them out of his mouth a string of saliva is hanging from his fingertip. I watch as he brings his digits closer to my lips, telling me to open my mouth to get a taste of him.

Max slides his fingers out of my mouth and drags it down my body.

“Let’s do something new” Max says as he goes on his knees. Kneeling in front of me and making my pussy throb. He doesn’t say anymore words as he forces my legs on his shoulders. I clench my pussy as his breath brushes against it in such a way it’s a drug.

The words slow, leisurely and gentle out of his mind as he starts eating me out. Like a starved man and I’m a whole dinner. The sensation of his flat tongue against such a sensitive part of me makes me crazy. My fingers diving into his perfect hair to ruin it.

He toys with my clit and slides his tongue inside of me.

It hadn’t taken long until I was reaching my release. Pulling at his hair with force and whining so loud I’m sure people outside could hear. But that only made it more thrilling.

“So quick. But I’m not done.” Max says against my pussy before going back in. Bringing me to surprise. He licks and sucks all my cum, fingers coming back to ram inside of me as his tongue toys with my swollen clit.

He made tears come to my eyes and a moan mixed with a whine to leave my mouth as I came another time. Even more sensitive.

Max helps me get off his shoulders before standing up to peel every piece of fabric off his body. Once my eyes laid on his skin I could truly say the suit doesn’t give him justice.

My mouth watered at the sight of his cock. Making me question how easily he would fit.

“Come here.” Max demands. And I do, walking up to him just for him to tell me to get on my knees. I grow nervous as his dick now sits in front of my face and as I’m about to grab it Max tells me to do something completely different.

“Go on your hands and knees. And face the mirror.” I quickly do it, seeing myself in the thin mirror. I look further up to observe Max. He grabs my hips, lifting them up so they're in line with his.

I hold my breath as he brings his dick to my entrance. Circling it with his tip and watching me through the mirror. He distracts me with his signature smirk and then rams inside of me. Bottoming out immediately. My mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape as he takes my breath away with his dick. Pulling out and then thrusting back in with more power. His skin slapping against mine and tip viciously hitting my g-spot.

Max leans forward and grabs my hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing my head up. “I want you to watch as I fuck all the words out of your mouth.”

My vision blurred by the tears, but I make out our figures. My tears fall as Max drives his dick into me once again.

“That’s it. Cry over my dick. So. Fucking. Good.” He grits between his teeth at each thrust. I look at myself, being utterly ruined by a man I met a couple of days ago. He keeps my head up, not daring to let my eyes leave the mirror. His bottom lip is between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed as he keeps in his moans. Letting mine fill the room instead.

I can barely hold up my body as I get closer to my climax. Clenching around Max multiple times before I finally release.

A string of unholy sounds escape my mouth and it’s as if they set off Max, ultimately allowing me to hear him moan just as I had done before.

Max twitches inside of me before he releases. Swearing in dutch before calling me a good fucking girl. His cum fills and distracts me as he pulls out. Demanding me to stay there.

I expect to see him walk out with a cloth, but instead his phone. He angles the camera right behind me, capturing his cum that drips out of me and both our faces in the mirror.

My face holds confusion and he sees it, keeping a straight face.

“People usually have photos of their gods, something to look at when they worship it. And this is mine.”

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countryclubkook · 2 months

Note

thinking of topper’s gf cheating on him with rafe🤭

Favorite Secret

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, mentions of alcohol, violence, blood, creampie, unprotected sex, P in V, not proofread

Summary: Your secret affair with Rafe almost goes terribly wrong when Topper decides to call in the middle of a hookup…almost

A/N: omg hii!! it’s been so so long since i’ve been on this account but I got a new job and a boyfriend🤭 life has been very very busy the last like year or so but I got the urge to write for my fav boy so I hope you guys enjoy this quick little fic🤍 and I hope all of you are well!

“Fuck Rafe, feels so good oh my god” you cried out, arching your back as your eyes rolled back when his cock hit the perfect spot inside of you. It was fucked up, screwing around with your boyfriends best friend, especially when Topper treated you so well. He bought you everything you asked for, took you on nice dates, held the door open, complimented you. Never did anything to hurt you…until that night, until that one party changed everything.

“Ugh come on Top, i’m begging you to just come for like 10 minutes. If you still don’t want to be there after that we can leave and just come back here, watch movies or something” you’d been begging for the last hour, it was the biggest party of the year and his best friend was hosting but he said he was too tired to go. You knew it was actually just because there had been whispers on the island that Sarah planned to crash it with John B and their new pogue friends.

As much as he swore to you he was over it, you know that wasn’t true and you were fine with it. You trusted him, after all you were the one there for him when she broke his heart the first time, having to be the one to pick up the pieces every single time he gave her chance after chance, you knew what it’d done to him and his trust. Having to risk seeing her there with the guy she cheated on him with didn’t exactly sound like such a fun time.

“Listen I love you, but I really would just rather stay in tonight okay babe? There will be many more parties that we can go to in the future” he said, giving you a soft smile and cupping your cheek with his hand. He could see the disappointment on your face and felt bad, you were obviously excited about this and here he was shutting it down over rumors.

“Okay, whatever you want to do” you let out a defeated sigh and nuzzled your cheek closer into his palm, not wanting to argue over something like this. It just wasn’t worth it and you did enjoy nights in with just the two of you, plus he was right, there would be another party by next weekend.

“Damn it” he muttered under his breath before shaking his head slightly, “Okay okay, 10 minutes and that’s it, deal?” he barely got out the last word before you were squealing and throwing your arms around his neck He wrapped his arms around your waist and let out a small laugh, the smile on your face lighting up the whole room.

“Thank you thank you thank you! We’re going to have so much fun okay? You’re not going to want to leave by the time those 10 minutes are up, this is going to be the best night ever” famous. last. words.

Everything was great, the two of you were having the time of your life. Drinking and dancing together, talking with Rafe and a few of your other friends, then you slipped away for five minutes to use the bathroom, 5 minutes. Who knew so much could go wrong in just 5 minutes.

You walked out to see a crowd forming around two people and heard shouting, you’d expected to walk over and see two guys fighting like usual. Both of them far too drunk to even make contact with the other, but instead you saw your boyfriend on top of John B, his fist connecting to his cheek over and over and over again. You didn’t even like the kid but seeing blood and spit fly from his mouth and his gurgled wails of pain made you feel bad and you knew you needed to stop it.

You saw Rafe standing nearby watching, small smirk on his face as his eyes darted from the two boys to his sister begging Topper to stop while she sobbed. You walked up to him and touched his arm to bring his attention to you.

“Y/N! What’s up?” he said it so nonchalantly, like the scene in front of you wasn’t even happening. You knew he hates the pogues, hell you know he’d let John B die right then and there and feel no remorse, but he was the only one you knew had even the slightest chance of stopping it.

“Rafe you have to make them stop, it’s over okay? If you guys wanted to teach them a lesson i think they’ve learned it so can you please make it stop?” you could see him thinking about it, his brows furrowing ever so slightly and eyes going from you to Topper and John B to Sarah and then back to you.

“Mmm, I don’t know Y/N/N…kind of feel like he deserves it don’t you? I mean my slut of a sister cheats on my best friend, your boyfriend, with that good for nothing pogue and then they have the nerve to show up here? To rub it in his face? Why should I stop them?” he cocked his head and gave you a smirk, leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his red solo cup full of god knows what. You knew the only way to convince him was to use the one card you knew would work, the one you hated using against him in all the time you knew him.

“Because you don’t want your dad finding out about it. You’re not even supposed to be throwing parties here, what happens if a pogue ends up dead because of the party and Ward finds out? I couldn’t care less if he dies, i’m just trying to save your ass right now so please” you saw his jaw clench, watched his chest start rising and fall slowly, more heavily than before, and you knew it worked.

“Fuck! Fine, i’ll handle it” he yelled before throwing his cup on the ground and walking over to the two, by this point John B was barely conscious and it’s like Topper was in his own world. Rafe walked over and pulled him off by the collar of his shirt before ushering Sarah to attend to her boyfriend, screaming that the party was over and for everyone to get the fuck out.

People quickly dispersed, whispering to each other about what just happened, until it was just the three of you left at tannyhill. Top was still fuming, veins bulging out, sweat dripping down his forehead, chest rapidly heaving, knuckles bruised and bloody, a crazed look in his eyes. You tried to walk up to him to calm him down but it’s like he couldn’t even see you, he instead turned around and walked to his jeep before getting in and driving away, leaving you stranded.

“What the fuck?!” you screamed, standing at the bottom of the driveway watching the taillights disappear as they got further and further away.

You walked back up to the porch where Rafe was waiting, looking awkwardly at the ground unsure of what to say. What are you supposed to do in this situation other than offer them a ride…or in this case alcohol.

“I’m sorry Y/N, that was shitty of him. Give him some time to cool off and he’ll come back to his senses, if you uh, if you want you could just crash here. I would offer to drive you home but you know…” he said, making a brief gesture to himself “i’m kind of drunk so, don’t really want to risk hurting you. There’s plenty of alcohol if you want to just get drunk and pass out in the guest room, the beds freshly made and I think Sarah still has some clothes here that would fit you.”

“Thank you Rafe, that’s really sweet of you. Do you think you could um, stay with me? Just hang out here and talk, drink a little, I just don’t want to be alone right now” you sounded so pathetic, tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes.

“Yeah, yeah absolutely”

One drink turned into another and then another, the both of you drunk and giggling while you talked. And then it happened, one little glance at his lips in a moment of shared silence, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear, and you were in his lap kissing him. His hands roaming all over your body until you were pulling away to tell him to take you to the bedroom.

Clothes flying, drunken squeals and giggles slipping out between your moans, the way he made you feel, those were the only things you can clearly remember. And then you woke up the next morning staring at his naked chest, but you didn’t feel guilty for it, instead you wanted it to happen again.

And it did, it happened multiple times a week. Topper did apologize, made up for his behavior that night, but you’d already got a taste of Rafe and now you were hooked. He never suspected anything, didn’t notice the little shared glances between the two of you when you all hung out, the way Rafe’s hand would brush against your thighs, his little whispers in your ear that made you squirm, he was just happy you forgave him. You never thought you’d be at risk getting caught until now, when you were on all fours and Rafe was thrusting into you from behind, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your hip to pull you back into his cock. The both of you were so lost in pleasure that Rafe almost didn’t hear his phone going off, he quickly moved to grab it off the table and answer it.

“Topper, what’s up man?” your eyes widened, panic starting to kick in. You’d thought it was over, he knew, someone had seen something and told him, he put the pieces together, he was calling to tell him he knew.

“Y/N? Yeah she came by to pick something up, said she left it here the last time you guys were over and she had to be out this way anyway. Think she’s still upstairs” you let out a moan when he thrusted back into you unexpectedly, turning your head back to look at him with a bewildered expression. He just gave a a smirk and held his finger to his lips before moving it back to your hip and pulling you back into him to meet each thrust.

You dropped your face into the mattress to muffle any loud moans, pure bliss taking over your body each time Rafe’s cock pressed against that little spot inside your pussy, hoping the call would be over soon. And then the son of a bitch flips you over, puts you on your back and gives you that look. You know, the one that just screams ‘i’m up to no good and you’re about to hate me for this’.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, looking up at him in confusion while trying not to make a sound.

“Actually, she just came down. You wanna talk to her real quick before she finishes up and heads that way?” if looks could kill he’d be six feet under right about now, you shook your head but it was too late, the phone was by your ear and you had no choice.

“Hey baby” it came out shakier than planned and you hoped he wouldn’t question it, it was a lot harder hiding the fact you were cheating on your boyfriend when the man you’re cheating with had his cock buried deep inside your pussy thrusting into you like his life depends on it while on call with said boyfriend.

“Is everything okay? You sound a little winded babe” he was always so concerned, wanting to make sure you were okay at all times if he even suspected something was wrong.

“Better tell him you’re okay princess, don’t let him find out his best friend is balls deep inside his girlfriends pretty pussy” Rafe whispered in your ear, leaving open mouth kisses along your neck and chest.

“Yeah, just a lot of running around the house looking for my ring is a-all” you stuttered out when Rafe pushed all the back into you again, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Okay…well I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? There’s this really nice restaurant i’ve been wanting to take you to, finally managed to get a reservation, and there was something I wanted to talk to you about” you weren’t even fully listening to what he was saying to be honest, you were paying more attention to how good you felt and the smell of Rafe’s cologne, the way his skin felt against yours, how your bodies seemed to mold together perfectly.

“Yea-yeah babe. Sounds great” you were about to let out a moan when long ring clad fingers found their way into your mouth and you, on instinct, bit down slightly.

“Great! I’ll be at your place to pick you up in like an hour okay? I love you”

“Great! Love you too bye” you quickly got out before hanging up and letting out a moan, digging your nails into Rafe’s back.

“Fuck baby i’m close, you want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want a little reminder that even if you’re with him, you’ll always be mine?” you could only nod, small whimpers filling the room.

A few more lazy thrusts before he pushed all the way into you and stayed there, feeling his cock twitch while he filled you with his cum. Your pussy clenching around him while you came at the same time, head thrown back and lips parted moaning his name, a white ring forming on his cock from your cum mixing with his. He pulled out after a few seconds and pulled you to your knees before sliding his cock in your mouth.

“Suck it off baby, just clean it up for me” and you did, licking every drop of your cum off his cock before he pulled out and got dressed.

You went to grab something to wipe the cum away when he stopped you.

“Nah, you go on your little date with my cum leaking out of you”

You gave him a dazed look before nodding and throwing your dress back on followed by your shoes, giving him a kiss and heading for the door.

“That was fun Rafe, i’ll call you later okay?”

“I know you will pretty girl, I look forward to it.” the smile on his face was genuine, not one that he had after a meaningless hookup, but one of true happiness. You brought out the best in him and he couldn’t even have you in any way other than this.

“Me too, I better go now. See ya” you were almost out the front door when you heard him yell your name. You turned around to see him leaning in the doorframe of his bedroom, waiting to see what he had to say.

“You’re my favorite secret”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #topper thornton imagine #rafe smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks smut #outer banks fic

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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I blame @valeskafics for reviving my zuko brain rot with that modern!Zuko post! How dare 💜💕

If there’s one thing that you’ve come to learn about Zuko and that’s the fact that he doesn’t own clothes made to keep him warm. He has a plethora of jackets but they’re the thin kind of jackets that wouldn’t protect you from even the smallest of chilly breezes.

When you asked him about this when you first started dating, he only shrugged and said ‘I run too hot for those fleece jackets to ever feel the need to own one of them. I’m warm enough for the both of us as it is.’ Which is true. Zuko ran abnormally hot for a normal human being but that was one of the reasons why you loved cuddling up to him when it’s cold.

‘What happened to those warm blankets you normally bundle up in when you’re cold?’ Zuko asked as you proceed to cuddle yourself deeper into his side.

‘I just happen to have found something better in keeping me warm.’ You replied cheekily as you pressed a kiss to his cheek before you burrowed your face into his chest. Zuko sighs as he looks away from you to hide his flushed cheeks from sight as he smiled dopily, still not entirely use to an over abundance of affection directed towards him in a positive and healthy manner.

‘So what I’m hearing is that I’ve been demoted to your personal body warmer?’ He says rhetorically.

‘Think of it more as a promotion from my extremely warm boyfriend to extremely warm boyfriend who doubles as a personal body warmer.’ You replied, tightening your hold on him as you leeched more warmth off of him. ‘Don’t you find it dangerous?’ Zuko asks as he opened his palm to a small flame. It was practically harmless in your eyes, but Zuko always ingrain into you of the destructive power that even the smallest of flames possessed.

‘No.’ You answered honestly as you reached a hand to hold the back of his own that housed the small flame, enticed by its beautiful colours and flickering image with every movement being made. ‘Not really because I trust you more than I probably trust others.’ You added softly as you looked over at Zuko who was already looking back at you with a soft look in his eyes and an even softer smile. ‘Sounds like you should reevaluate that if you’re willing to put your trust in me.’ He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

‘No I don’t think I will ever want to reevaluate who I put my full trust in.’ You told him truthfully as you helped close his hand, extinguishing the flame as trails of smoke drifted upwards, only to dissipate before it could even reach the ceiling. ‘I’d like to think I am a sound judge of character and I defiantly don’t regret saying yes when you asked me out.’ You then kiss Zuko on the nose and felt his breath hitched in his chest. Zuko always has the cutest reactions to many things, but when it came to being some love and affection, those reactions were the ones you happen to love the most.

‘Then I hope to never make you second guess your choice to trust me with your heart.’ Zuko replied with a smile as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

‘You never do, now be a good personal body warmer and let me leech off your warmth some more.’ You joked as you snuggled yourself into him and felt him place his arms over your waist, rubbing the skin that had been revealed when your nightshirt raised up a little, causing you to sigh under his touch as sleep slowly began to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

#zuko imagine #zuko imagines #zuko x you #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #atla x you #atla imagine #atla imagines #atla fanfic #atla x reader

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andhumanslovedstories · 5 months

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I’m genuinely surprised how much I love nursing. Every shift, I get to meet and help so many people. I’m float pool so I go to the whole hospital, but I’ve also been floating for a while so everywhere is familiar. Sometimes it’s hard for me to walk through the hospital because I know so many people I pass, and we keep stopping to chat. I float to seventeen different units. That’s crazy! I know so much about the hospital! Every night I’m somewhere else, working with a different team and a different group of patients. The constant novelty and familiarity of floating is delicious.

And I love my patients! I know this all sounds so goody two shoes, but I love that I get to help so many people in so many ways. I only get them for one night, so I try to give them my best. I love tucking people in with warm blankets, I love explaining what I’m assessing to a patient with a new diagnosis, I love having heart to hearts with patients at three am when they can’t sleep, I love making people hurt less and stop throwing up. And you can be a real scamp about it. I love stealing snacks from other floors. I love when a patient is like “god I’d love some chocolate” and I get to be like “sir I know the location of every candy drawer in the hospital, I can get you some chocolate.” Or like figuring out like a cheat code for alleviating symptoms. When someone’s like “wow this heating pack rules” and then falls asleep instantly? It feels good and it’s fun. I have a lot of fun figuring out how to cheer up my patients in minor little stupid ways.

I never have to wonder if my job contributes value to the world. When I go home at the end of my shift, I can always think of something I did that makes me feel proud. That rules! It’s so fun to be proud of yourself! It’s so fun to know that what you do matters and that you are doing it well. And if I don’t feel proud, I have a drive home to think about why and I get a chance to do better next shift. And that’s good too. There are nights where I can feel the way I let someone down, and I have to sit with that, and I have to learn from it.

(And I don’t want to sound like I’m crushing it always super-nurse style, like I’m completely immune to ableism and the other -isms, or that I’m never lazy or callous or checked out. I’m new and I’m learning and I’m human and I’m tired and I’m not always living up to the person I hope to be. But I do get a lot of opportunities to make up for it and try again. That feels good.)

And I love teaching new nurses! I love having to constantly keep studying so I can be in a position to teach anyone anything. I love watching people get better at stuff. And I love that as I’ve gotten more confident as a nurse and a person who trains new nurses that I’ve started coaching more and more on the soft skills of nurses. Those are really hard! We should get as much practice with therapeutic communication as we do with Foley catheters!

Also where I work pays good, and I’ve got great job security, dude, I can buy so many stupid little trinkets. I was so nervous when I decided to go to nursing school that I was fucking up my life and other people’s plans for a job I wouldn’t even end up liking. I’d literally never worked something remotely close to healthcare when I decided to go to nursing school. I’d been in a hospital like once. I feel like this big life change shouldn’t have worked out nearly as well as it has, but hey it’s really fuckin cool it did

#nursing tag #augh I am being so earnest #I’m frankly the most earnest person I know and I’m still always a little embarrassed by it #lemme put a stupid joke down here in the tags #uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck I got nothing #just pure earnestness

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moonstruckme · 1 month

Note

Hiya Mae!! How are you?? It’s been a little bit but I was hoping I could request a poly!marauders fic (+plus Lily if you’re comfortable with doing that if not it’s fine). This week is the 6th anniversary of my brothers passing and this year is a bit harder as I’m turning 18. Having such a milestone coming up and him not being here is sorta making me sick. I was wondering if maybe you could base the fic off of that? Or something to do with grief and them helping reader out. I’ve found great comfort in the abundance of love you portray with their relationship and I could do with a lil of it.

If not it’s totally fine don’t feel obligated. Hope you have a good week!!

Hi sweetheart, sorry I couldn't get this to you during the week you requested it. I was also dealing with a bit of grief at the time and it felt too raw to try for a while. I hope you're doing well and that you really enjoy being 18, even if those feelings are complicated by your loss <33

cw: mentions of death, grief

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 622 words

The sky is turning from deep blue to black outside when Sirus notices you’ve slipped into a melancholy.

The only hint of it is in your tone. You’ve been quipping about the film you’re all watching like you always do, bouncing off his and James’ comments and Remus’ amused grunts, but there’s a falsity to the cheer in your voice. This is something you and James have in common; when Sirius or Remus are upset it permeates the area around them like a thick fog, but the two of you have a way of keeping it contained within yourselves, putting on counterfeit smiles. Sirius often wonders if it doesn’t hurt you more.

He leans away from where he’s been resting his head on Remus’ pectoral, snaking an arm around your shoulders.

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?” he asks quietly.

You shrug. Swallow. “Just thinking about them,” you murmur in reply.

Sirius suspects this isn’t the full story, but he, too, knows the necessity of papering over certain pains. He doesn’t pry.

Before the war—before Regulus—Sirius used to think that grief was the pain that came from the love you had for the lost person being ripped away from you. But even months after his brother’s death, all the love is still there. It’s amplified, if anything, every ounce of it demanding attention now that he can no longer take it for granted even a little bit.

What went was the ritual of it all. The peculiar brand of happiness he’d felt around Reg, never easy but still there, buried beneath layers of troubled history and shared broodiness. The inside jokes they’d barely realized they had, things no one who wasn’t raised in their house would see the humor in. The surety that if they fought, they’d get a chance to make up. Sirius will never have those things with his brother again. In memories, maybe, but now they’ll always be tinged with the love so big it hurts.

He wishes desperately he could keep you from hurting like that.

He shuffles closer, awkwardly wrapping his other arm around you until he’s nearly covering your body with his. It’s like he thinks he can shield you, like he can protect you from grief after he’d failed to protect you from loss.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says.

You shake your head, turning so it’s jammed in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Your face feels hot. “I don’t know what to do,” you choke out.

Sirius squeezes you tighter. He gets it, but he doesn’t. He knows how it feels to grieve, but not how to grieve your person in your way. It’s an ache he can only approximate.

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds pained, and he gets up from Remus’ other side, rounding the couch to climb onto the armrest beside you. He rubs your back with one hand, the other coming to rest on Sirius shoulder, a comfort in case he needs it. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, my love.”

Sirius feels a hot tear slip down his neck into his shirt, and James winces as your shoulders hitch under his touch. Remus makes a soft pitying sound.

“You’re alright.” He latches onto the last unclaimed part of you, rough hand soothing up your calf. “You’re okay.”

“Sorry,” you manage, and Sirius squishes you punishingly in his arms, pressing a staunch kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t be silly,” he tells you. James makes a half-choked sound of agreement. “No sorries, okay?”

You nod, the bump of your nose moving against Sirius’ neck. He gives you another kiss to show his approval.

“You’re alright, darling,” Remus says again. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got you.”

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breeyn · 6 months

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An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.

I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)

I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.

My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.

I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”

That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.

Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.

The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.

My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.

I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.

Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.

No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.

And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.

Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.

You see where I’m going?

If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.

So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.

The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.

Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers

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sc0tters · 7 months

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Fool For You | Vince Dunn

summary: when Vince sees you with another guy he can’t sit by when you get too close.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), choking, swearing.

word count: 2.38k

authors note: I have never written for Vince until now, so I don’t know if any of this made sense… I like this man though so I hope you guys can sit through reading this.

You and Vince went around in circles.

One month you couldn’t stand the boy and the next you were practically living in his bed.

It was a cycle that your friends couldn’t stand as they watched your heart remain in the hands of the man who didn’t know how to deal with it.

They had brought you out to a bar after rumours of Vince having a new girl in his life came out “I want you to meet someone!” Heidi called out motioning to a guy who had been staring at you for the last fifteen minutes.

He seemed much quieter than what you would go for “hey.” You smiled swirling your drink in your hand.

Tonight you were meant to be saying goodbye to Vince for good as you moved on to someone new “I’m y/n!” You introduced yourself over the sound of blaring music in the speakers.

From across the bar sat on a seat alone Vince was pissed. Watching you smile as the boy you were with leaned down to whisper something into your ear. That little dress you wore was something that the hockey player hated on you.

Not because it barely went over your ass but because Vince didn’t like other guys getting to see you looking the way you did in that dress.

Vince fixed his bow tie as he waited for you to come out of your bathroom “we’re gonna be late!” He groaned looking up from his watch “should I wear these or those?” You asked holding up two different sets of high heels.

The hockey player felt his jaw tense staring at your body from head to toe “you aren’t wearing that.” Vince shook his head getting up from your bed “what’s wrong with this?” You frowned thinking that you looked cute.

It wasn’t often that you got the chance to get all dressed up and you really liked the dress “look I’m not going if you’re going to wear that.” He raised his hands not wanting to argue “give me a sec.” You sighed dropping both pairs of heels as you turned back to your bathroom.

Vince couldn’t help it as that night went through his mind watching you laugh at whatever stupid thing that guy said “are you even listening to me?” The girl who sat next to him scoffed seeing where his eyes had gone.

She was the one who had been rumoured to be his new love connection “you are totally unbelievable,” she added getting off of the chair next to him as she made her way to find someone new.

The hockey player remained sat in his seat until the boy leaned forward to kiss your lips. Vince swore he saw red as he practically took two long strides before he got to your side “hey-” the boy in front of you groaned as he was pulled away from you.

Before they could have a conversation where you could tell Vince to fuck off he instead landed a blow to the boys cheek sending him back tumbling “Vince!” Your eyes went wide as you sent him a harsh glare “c’mon.” The hockey player grumbled wrapping his hand around your arm as he pulled you off of your seat and in the direction of the door.

The humid Seattle September air hit your face “where are we going?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows “get in,” Vince opened the passenger door to his black G-Wagon.

You feet remained stuck to the sidewalk “I’ve only had one beer and I know that you’ve only had one drink.” That was true, despite being at the bar for an hour you had been nursing the same drink all night.

The mental coin toss went on in your head as you contemplated putting up a fight “listen baby, you look so fucking good right now that I just want to get my head between your thighs.” Vince’s words sent shivers down your spine “but I can’t do that if you’re going to be difficult.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw causing you to practically jump into his car.

It shouldn’t have been this easy for him to get you where he wanted it but you were always going to have to try harder to not fall into his hands like putty “what about her?” Your voice was soft as he slammed his car door behind him.

Vince sighed as he turned to face you “she doesn’t matter.” He mumbled hooking his fingers under your jaw “yeah she does.” You nodded letting your lips form a frown.

The hockey player rubbed his calloused thumb against your cheek “you are the one in my car baby.” Vince’s words made your hand land on top of his as you nodded.

That moment felt foreign as his eyes stared into yours “wanted you all to myself,” his confession made you smile “really?” The boy nodded as he kissed your lips.

His over hand went to your leg tracing up your skirt “Vince,” you whimpered pulling your lips from his “what do you say we go back to mine?” The hockey player smiled as you nodded.

The drive back to his was quiet, you looked out at the road for the most part silently hating how wet your panties grew at the thought of what Vince was going to do to you “penny for your thoughts princess?” He asked watching you turn around to him with nothing more than a nod “you were a fucking idiot tonight.” You spat sending Vince a glare.

It made him laugh “‘m fucking crazy about you baby.” He confessed pulling into his garage before his car came to a stop.

Your palms grew sweaty as the boy came around to your side to let him open your door for you “shouldn’t even let you get what you want with the way you acted tonight.” Vince ran his fingers through your hair “thinking you are could find someone better than me?” His words continued as your body pressed up against the side of his car.

A whimper left your lips “why don’t you go be a good girl and go sit upstairs for me?” His hand tapped at your thigh as you nodded listening to his instructions as you made your way upstairs.

You removed your shoes reaching behind your back to undo the zipper “keep on disappointing me today baby.” Vince clicked his tongue as he leaned against the frame of his door “sorry Vincey,” you apologised letting your head drop.

Vince smiled as he walked over to you “don’t be,” he forced your head up to look at him “gives me an excuse to fucking rip this dress up now.” Before you could attempt to protest the sound of fabric ripping made you gasp.

You were surprised at how little effort it took from the boy to rip a straight line down the back of the dress “fucking hell baby.” Vince groaned seeing your matching lingerie that was hidden between by the fabric of your dress.

The boy smiled running his fingers over the straps of your bra “you’re so fucking beautiful.” He cooed pressing a kiss on your shoulder “all mine too.” The hockey player added smirking as you looked at his reflection in the mirror.

Vince pushed you onto his bed watching as your body bounced on the comforter “you know that if I was with him he would already be fucking me?” You blinked repeatedly not enjoying the way your body basked in his sight.

Naturally one of your talents was to piss Vince off as you pressed at his buttons “that mouth is forever going to get you in trouble.” He sighed letting his knees fall between your legs “such a pretty baby.” Vince mumbled pecking your lips.

His mouth nipped at your jaw pressing soft marks against your bone. He moved on the journey down to your core sucking at the valley of your breasts, before he moved to your stomach “fuck Vince.” You cried seeing his eyes staring right back up at yours.

Vince smiled as he was faced with your clothed core “let’s get these off baby?” The hockey player asked hooking his fingers in your waistband.

The thong drove down your legs before he threw it across the room “been waiting to see this all fucking day.” Vince let out a grunt as he placed a kiss on your clit.

The sensitive nub sent shivers up your body “Jesus Vince,” you gasped locking your fingers in his hair as his tongue licked up your slit “just me baby.” The hockey player laughed driving his tongue into your core as it lay flat “don’t stop!” You begged as his lips wrapped around your clit making sure to focus most of its attention there as his fingers curled into your cunt.

It was hot has the boy seemed like he was working for his harder than he had worked for his Stanley Cup win. Vince watched as you drove your hips into his face “you’re so hot.” You blurted out making him smirk as your hands dragged through his hair giving it the occasional tug when the pleasure grew too much for you.

Vince felt his cock grow hard as it throbbed against his boxers “I know baby, I know.” He used his free hand to lightly slap your clit repeatedly “shit Vince!” You gasped screwing your eyes shut as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

Before you knew it you were given a rude awakening when Vince retracted his fingers from your core as he smiled seeing you try to protest “you really think you could act like that all night and then get away with it?” The hockey player let out a laugh as he shook his head “want to finally be a good girl and listen to me?” Vince sat up straight as he ran his hands down your thighs.

You whimpered nodding your head repeatedly “please Vince.” You knew your were getting your way when he pulled his shirt over his head.

Within seconds a messy pile of clothes formed serving as a contrast from his clean wooden floor “don’t know how much I missed you.” Vince’s words were soft as he ran his painfully hard cock over your clit “gor a weird way of showing it.” You mumbled sending him a glare “you’re lucky that I need you.” The hockey player let out a grunt as his cock slid into your cunt.

You needed little to no time to adjust to his size, which was good because he wasn’t going to give you it “fuck Vince.” Your head dug into the mattress as he brought your legs up to your sides “not so mouthy now?” Vince smirked picking up the pace of his thrusts as the new angle caused his cock to slide deeper into your pussy.

Your hips tried to ride his in an attempt to help relieve the pressure between your legs “you really think he could have done this for you?” The hockey player scoffed growing annoyed as he thought back to how that guy from the bar ran his fingers across your neck “could have had you gasping for air like this?” Vince let his hand wrap around your throat as he let his calloused fingers squeeze the sides.

Vince smiled to himself as you nodded moaning when his cold chain landed on your chin “only you V.” Your eyelids grew heavy with your brain only focusing on your cunt clenching around his cock “all yours.” Those words made an animalistic switch go off in his head.

The sound of skin slapping suddenly erupted in the room as your cries of pleasure became a mere background noise to it “shit Vince.” You groaned bringing your hands to cup his as you wanted to kiss his lips.

His tongue dragged along your lower lip “my pretty little girl.” Vince cooed as your soaked cunt squelched each time his throbbing cock drove further deeper into it.

Your head pushed back when your breath went shaky “feeling good?” The hockey player smirked as he saw how swollen your lips had become.

It was needy as you whined “so fucking good.” His hand from your throat went to your clit “let the world hear who makes you feel like this.” Vince always liked hearing you scream especially when it was in your apartment where your neighbour was forced to listen through the wall that stood between your bedrooms.

But his bedroom always made him feel differently as it seemed that his walls soaked in your sounds to then speak of the story later “don’t stop Vince.” You begged as the sensations between his cock and his fingers suddenly started to become too much for you.

As your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t help it when your brain went back to how this always ends, you leave in the morning and to your friends annoyance their same lecture then has to be delivered “beg for it baby.” Vince ordered drawing your attention away from your thoughts.

You huffed your chest out “please Vince,” you cried out “only get like this for you.” Your statement was true as no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get rid of him.

How his fingers felt on your skin “fuck I’m coming.” As Vince shot his hot ropes of release into your cunt it caused your orgasm to come over you as the boy made sure to fuck you through it.

Both sets of breaths were heavy “did so good princess.” Vince kissed your lips as his cock slid out of your pussy making your body shudder.

The hockey player watched in amusement as his come oozed out of your cunt “fuck!” You almost jumped when the boys fingers scooped up the release and shoved it back into your pussy “had to make sure none went to waste.” Vince shrugged sending you a grin before he came to lay next to you.

Your fucked out state was enough to make him hard all over again “you were stupid tonight.” Your tone was serious as you knew you had to talk about what he had done “for you I’m a fucking idiot.”

#vince Dunn smut #Vince dunn #hockey smut #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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tragedybunny · 7 months

Note

Helloooooooooo! I saw that you were taking Astarion requests, and I’ve had something living rent free in my head for awhile nowwwww.

Basically, how would Astarion do with an s/o who is able to handle him well because of their own traumatic past? Maybe s/o came from a controlling/abusive household, so they already had to teach themself what a stable relationship looks like, and can now apply that here.

Essentially, I keep thinking about Astarion talking about how “patient” tab is with him when romantically involved, and I just keep thinking of s/o responding by saying “someone had to be patient with me too, Astarion. I learned the importance of it from that”

This has been awhile, I hope I put something together that works. Apologies for the wait. 💖

Until the World Falls Down - Astarion x F!Reader -

Love isn't always easy, but Astarion is worth having patience for.

You weren’t sure exactly where the argument came from or how it reached a boiling point at such speed. Astarion had been complaining that your house, the little house in the lower city that you loved so much because it belonged to the two of you, didn’t feel terribly secure. True, it was left empty while you traveled, looking for a way he could walk in the sunlight again, but Dammon was stone’s throw away, along with a number of the other tieflings from the Grove. When you’d been asked by the city’s rulers what you wanted in return for your heroics, a place you and him could call home was all you could think of.

“I’m just saying we could look for something else,” he snips, pushing things further.

There’s a rising pounding in your head, he’s giving into the paranoia. This was the inheritance passed down from Cazador, an endless fountain of ill that also included outbursts of anger, fits of melancholy, and more guilt than you could have ever imagined he was capable of. “Love,” you try your best to diffuse it, something you’ve grown well practiced with, “this is our home, I don’t want to change it.”

He snorts, “I don’t know why I expected you to understand, you had all the safety and security in the world and ran from it.”

The words sting in a way you’re not prepared for, it’s not the first time he’s lashed out at you, but he’s never weaponized your past before. “Astarion, that…that hurts.”

“What? It’s the truth, a pampered little noble girl who fled her sheltered life, because it was what, boring? Do you know what I would’ve given to be in your place?”

You stare at him wide-eyed, gasping at what feels like a ruptured wound in your chest. There’s only been bits and snatches of your past he’s been able to learn, the Warlock pact making it impossible to reveal all. But it’s shattering to have that little bit he knows turned on you. Fingernails curling into the palms of your hand, you try to steady your breathing, reminding yourself he really doesn’t know everything, he can’t tell how deeply those words cut. But you’re no saint, sometimes the pain is too much. “Gods, you really don’t care if you hurt me, do you?” All you’ve ever asked of him is love, and you die a little inside when he can’t seem to give it, even if you know why. “I need some air,” turning you stalk away from him and your little kitchen you adore, where tea sits now growing cold, towards your front door, tears blossoming that you fight, and memories you've locked away pushing to the front of your mind.

Maybe it’s your words, maybe it’s the hard reality of your hand pulling the door open, but behind you, Astarion quietly exclaims,“no.” He sounds far away though, sounds and shapes from another time clouding your senses.

Beyond your threshold, Baldur's Gate bustles in the early dawn light, but you only see bleak halls, filled with looming dread, and hear the whispers of the House of Air and Darkness. Push past it, you tell yourself, one foot crossing into the warm light. You're running, maybe that's what you're good at, maybe he's right, you run when you shouldn’t. Another breath, you're standing just outside the door. The noise of the city starts to pull you out of the past.

A hand grabs at your’s. “Don’t leave m-” his words end in a hiss of pain.

Shaking your head, you finish pushing back at the past to find Astarion’s hand clutching yours, starting to smolder in the sun. “Astarion, stop.”

“No, what if you don’t come back?” He’s frantic, tugging you back toward the shelter of the darkness inside the door. The scent of his flesh starting to singe fills your nostrils. The churning maelstrom of emotions hasn’t calmed enough, leaving you rooted where you stand. “Damn it,” grimacing, he takes a step forward, towards you, towards the light.

As though you’d been under a slow spell that finally releases you, there’s understanding, and you lunge toward him, pushing him back into the safety of your home, door slamming in your wake. Arms wrap around him as he clings to you, he’s quivering. Sinking to the floor, the sounds of rough sobbing start to escape from him. “I’m sorry Love,” you whisper, trying your best to soothe him, while your own mind recovers.

Words tumble out between fits of crying. “Not your…sorry…don’t know why…didn’t mean that…don’t leave me.”

“Hush, Sweetheart, I promise I’m not going anywhere.” It aches inside, you didn’t mean to frighten him.

With gentle words and touches, you try to calm him until he finally stills in your arms. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why aren’t you leaving? Why do you stay? I’m a monster, no better than Cazador, turning your words back on you to torture you.” There’s no tears, but you realize it’s only because he’s too tired to keep crying.

“You are not a monster Astarion, your emotions get the better of you sometimes.” Leaning down, you kiss the crown of his head, his forehead, his cheek, anywhere you can get. “I know you’re trying.”

“How can you be so patient with me?” His hand searches out yours.

Once, you lived in a world where only power mattered, where your parents would’ve given you to a monster to secure their place. But you were shown a better way. “Someone was patient with me too once. She showed me how to love, I think she saved my life.” You stop there, knowing the price for saying more.

Astarion doesn’t ask either, understanding you can’t. “I can do better,” he promises earnestly.

“I know you will, but you’re still healing. And I’m sorry I let it get to me.”

“No,” quickly, he sits, eyes locked onto yours, “you have feelings too, and it’s not fair for me to hurt you just because I hurt. I will do better, you deserve better from me, after everything you’ve done.”

You look at him, a teary wreck, and realizing you’re probably not much better yourself, lose yourself to an unexpected giggle. "Gods, we're a mess. I love you."

"Speak for yourself, I'm perfection." he laughs, laying his head back on your shoulder. "I love you too, more than anything."

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!reader #my fanfic #my writing #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #x reader #asks #requests

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justmystyles · 10 months

Note

Ok so I was thinking Harry is very private and only seen with skinny girls but then he got a new bandmember but she is plus size and wears glasses so even tho they act cute and couply ? On stage fans just think they are really good friends but one night Harry slips up bc bandmember got hurt by flying objects and he rushes over to her giving her hugs and pecks asking over and over if she is ok ? And well he might’ve sorta forgot where they where but then didn’t care bc his baby girl got hurt hope that makes sense and hope you wanna write it

Line of Fire

check out my other works!

pairing: Harry Styles x band member plus size reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: you and harry have been keeping your relationship off the radar, but his concern for you overwhelms his need for privacy.

warnings: physical injury, not sure if that is one, but better safe than sorry.

a/n: thank you so much for this ask @fanficismydrug! i loved this idea so much, and it was so exciting to bring it to life. i hope it's what you were hoping for!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @n0vaj3an @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You tapped gently on Harry’s dressing room door, almost immediately hearing him call for you to enter. As you stepped over the threshold, you watched his eyes peer up from the book he was reading, his pensive expression quickly turned to a smile as he folded over his page, putting the book down on the table behind him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” You apologize as you enter the room.

“Don’t be silly, you’re never a bother.” He outstretched his arms. “Get over here, angel.”

You happily sauntered into his embrace, kissing him softly as he pulled you into his lap. “Hi,” you smile against his lips.

You were so excited when you were hired to play trumpet in Harry’s Love on Tour band. It felt like the ultimate validation after spending so many years as a tormented band geek. You were in your element, playing music with people who loved it just as much as you did. Especially Harry.

You hadn’t expected you’d spend much time with Harry, he was the superstar, you were just in the background. But you quickly realized that was the farthest thing from the truth. The two of you clicked immediately, falling into this comfortable flirty friendship. You two had become inseparable, everyone on the tour knew that if they couldn’t find one of you, your best bet was to look for the other. Even the fans had noticed your back and forth on stage, and you were quickly labeled as Harry’s bestie.

You had been ‘friend-zoned’ so many times in your life that you were used to palling around with the guys you liked. It didn’t stop you from falling for Harry though. You knew he was flirty by nature, so you always tried not to read too far into his actions. He obviously didn’t see you the way you saw him. You’d seen the kinds of girls Harry had been photographed with, you’d heard all the rumors about his lovelife. None of those girls looked anything like you, they were these gorgeous supermodels with tiny waists. You would never be that, so you just settled for being his friend.

But then, there was a shift. Harry’s touches started to linger a little longer, when you would hang out and watch movies, you noticed he started to sit closer and closer. And then, one day everything changed. You had just finished sound check, and Harry asked you to come back to his dressing room with him. And he took that opportunity to confess his feelings for you. You had been together ever since.

“You’ve been busy today, I’ve hardly seen you.” Harry pouted, you giggled before biting his bottom lip gently.

“I know baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’m going to make it up to you.” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a lingering kiss.

“Mmm, you always do.” He sighs, squeezing your hips gently.

“Oh, I meant to ask you. How’d your date go the other night?” He gives you a confused look. You chuckle as you pull out your phone, tapping a few times before pulling up a deuxmoi post that was submitted of Harry, the caption saying he was out on a date with a mystery blonde.

Harry’s eyes soften, and he lifts his hand to your cheek, stroking it gently. “Angel, you know that’s nothing right? It was a business dinner.”

“I know, I’m just joking around.” He smiled widely at your words and pulled you in so that your head was resting against his chest.

Harry liked to keep his private life to himself. He felt that he gave so much to everyone all the time, that he wanted to keep some things just for him. Your relationship was one of those things. You were fine with that, you didn’t need to parade your relationship around to the world to know it was real.

Later that night, you were onstage playing your heart out. You and Harry had been playing off each other all night, like you usually would. He would also shoot an occasional wink, or sly smirk in your direction every now and then.

The crowd had been particularly rowdy all night, but as the opening notes to Watermelon Sugar began, the screaming crescendoed and people began truly losing their minds. Harry and the band had gotten used to things being thrown onstage, you had gotten pretty good at dodging the assorted items. Until you weren’t.

You were so caught up with the energy in the room, watching Harry drink it all in and give it right back to them, that you didn’t see the watch soaring in the air. But you definitely felt it when it hit you in the side of the head, knocking you to the ground.

Harry heard the crowd collectively gasp when you went down. He looked around, his brow furrowed in confusion, looking for the scene that caused such a reaction. He turned behind him and saw you on the ground, wincing in pain and holding your head.

He ran full speed toward you, dropping to his knees in front of you. He tossed his microphone on the riser beside you before collecting you in his arms.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked frantically, stroking your hair. He felt you nod against his chest, but it wasn’t good enough. “Talk to me angel, I need you to say it.”

You pulled back, tears streaming down your face, you looked up at Harry with a sniffle. “I… I’m.. it’s okay. You n–need to finish.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he takes your face in his hands, leaning in to kiss your tear stained cheeks before turning you to inspect the spot where you were hit. It was already starting to bruise, and there was some blood dripping down. He looked up at Pauli signaling for him to toss him a towel. He pressed it to your head gently as he tried to calm you down.

“You’re alright baby, I’m right here. I’m so sorry angel, I love you so much.” The words flew from his mouth rapidly, seemingly unaware that his nearby microphone was picking up on all of it.

Once you composed yourself, you reached beside you, grabbing your glasses that had fallen off when you hit the ground, and placing them back on your face. “Sorry Harry, you didn’t have to stop everything for me.”

“Of course I did,” he assured you. “You’re my girl, you come before anything, always.”

A wave of murmurs washed through the crowd at Harry’s words. Tens of thousands of people were all watching with rapt attention as he cared for you so tenderly, and professed his love for you. Their confusion and curiosity quickly turned into a chorus of ‘awwws’ when they watched Harry press his lips against yours.

The sound brought you both back into the moment, suddenly realizing that you were still onstage, and all eyes were on the two of you. Your face turned bright red, you quickly brought your hands up to cover it. Harry chuckled, pulling you close.

“I guess you’re about to get your deuxmoi debut, angel.” He joked.

“And tiktok, and twitter, and everything else.” You chuckle in response.

Harry pulled back so that he could look you in the eyes. “C’mon, let me walk you off and get you comfy, then I’ll come back and finish up here.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I want to finish the show. I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his tone thick with worry.

You nod and stand up, picking up your trumpet to show him you were fine. He shrugged, giving in to you. He knows how stubborn you are, it would be easier just to finish the show. He gets up as well, picking up his microphone with one hand, and taking your hand with the other, leading you to center stage.

“She’s okay!” He announced into the microphone, lifting your arm up in the air.

The crowd erupted, and you curtseyed shyly. You looked over to Harry, who was already looking at you, you could see the adoration in his eyes as he lifted your joined hands to his lips.

“Alright,” Harry returns his attention to the crowd. “Shall we try that one again?” The crowd cheered and Harry let go of your hand. When you turned to return to your spot onstage you jumped suddenly when you felt Harry’s hand playfully tap your backside. You shot him a wink over your shoulder and he smiled in response.

You waved off your fellow band members as they all asked if you were alright, and if you were sure you wanted to do this. You lifted your horn to your mouth, showing everyone that you were fine and ready to move on. The song began, and the rest of the show went off without a hitch, Harry continuing to look back at you, giving you questioning thumbs ups to ensure you were feeling alright, you returned them all with a wink.

You were alright, you were great even. You knew you didn’t need the validation or acknowledgement of his fans for your relationship to work, but it felt really nice to know you had it anyway.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x band member #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry's house #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #love on tour #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot

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milkteahood · 12 days

Text

not a good man 2

Simon Riley x fem!reader, part 1

Summary: Simon crawls back to apologise

You have asked and I have delivered. I might or might not make an alternative ending where reader doesn’t take back Simon and starts dating König instead

Warning: light smut (just a paragraph, oral f receiving), still mdni

The next weeks were spent by Simon drowning in alcohol, refusing to admit it’s because of you. He didn’t call or text at all after that last fight, but you didn’t either.

You on the other hand, spent the first week falling asleep crying next to your phone. You hoped that, for once, it would be him who fights for you. But he never called, which only worked to break your heart further.

“Silly me I guess” you’d tell yourself.

On the base he was more distracted than usual, but not enough for anyone to notice. Well, not enough for someone that wasn’t close to him. His captain, John Price, noticed. So one day, while he was having lunch, Price took a seat across the table.

“Captain” Ghost nodded his head.

“Ghost. What’s on your mind?” John’s eyes softened slightly. Simon was very dear to him.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re distracted”

Those words cut through him like a knife. Distracted? Him?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he responded, tone more cold now.

“I think you do”

John wasn’t one to back down and Simon knew that. And John also wasn’t someone Simon could intimidate. He was trapped.

“Just a fight”

“Your girl or something?”

Simon didn’t respond and John knew silence was an answer too.

“Have you tried to apologize?”

“What makes you think it’s my fault?” he raised his voice ever so slightly. As much as Price annoyed him in this moment, he wasn’t going to be disrespectful to his captain.

Price only gave him an amused look.

“Look Riley, a word of advice. Not from a superior, but from a comrade”

Simon looked at him straight in the eyes, waiting for him to continue.

John smiled “just because she loves the monster you are, it doesn’t make you less of one. You cannot be Ghost where you should be Simon” and with that, John stood up with his cup of coffee and departed, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts.

And that is how Simon found himself in front of your apartment door. He stood there for at least 20 mins before he knocked.

You were on the couch, nose deep into one of your books. The past weeks have been rough, finding yourself unable to focus on much else.

The soft knocks on your door made you snap back to reality. They were so quiet you almost missed it. You stood up from the couch and made your way to the door.

Your heart jumped in your throat when you looked through the peephole and saw him. His hood was up, and he was looking down.

For a while you contemplated ignoring him, but part of you, the big part of you, the one that still loved him, won. So you opened the door.

“Simon” you said, coldly.

“Dove—“ he looked up and paused. Your eyes were red, you have been crying for god knows how long. He looked back down. In that moment he wanted to punch himself into another dimension.

“‘M sorry” he mumbled.

“What?”

“‘M sorry” he said again, still looking down.

“Is that all? Really?” you were getting angry.

“You know what? Forget it” you said, starting to close to door, which he promptly stopped with his hand.

“N-no. Wait. Look. I know. I’ve been nothing but a cunt to you since the moment we started dating… and— I’m sorry, ok?” he sounded almost desperate.

You let go of the door and stepped aside, which he took as an invitation and walked in after you, closing the door behind.

“You’re soaking wet” you remarked.

“I— I waited for 30 minutes in front of your apartment complex. Then 20 more in front of your door..” he was still not looking at you.

“So it took you about an hour to debate whether or not I was worth an apology?” your voice was cold and full of venom.

“No. It’s not like that” he looked up, his eyes almost pleading for you to stop. Just accept his apology. But of course you weren’t going to and he knew that.

“Look Y/N. I can’t be what you need me to be. I don’t know how to do love you. Not in the way you want me to”

“But are you willing to try?”

“What?”

You left a crack to your heart for him to use. It was up to him to make the effort to squeeze through it.

“I asked—“

“Yes” he cut you off. “Yes I will try. Please love”.

He took a few steps towards you, but this time, you stood where you were. You extended your hands to cup his face and he instinctively leaned into your touch.

“Don’t ever—“

“I won’t” he didn’t let you finish.

“Okay” you said, gently stroking his face with your thumbs “you will have to prove that to me”.

He only nodded, leaning more into your touch.

“I’m sorry love” he said again.

“Good. You should be” you said before standing on your toes and kissing the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widened “I thought you’re mad at me” he blinked a few times, not yet daring to touch you.

“I am. Incredibly so. But— I also love you” you said before kissing him back, not letting him get another word in. In a way, you were scared to wait, scared he wouldn’t say it back.

He didn’t wait too long before kissing you again, one of his big hands holding the back on your head, deepening the kiss. His other hand squeezed your lower back, closing any space between you.

“Seems like you can’t stay away for long little one” he smirked once you pulled away from the kiss.

“Look who’s talking. Last I checked, you’re the one that crawled back”

He gave you a quick look before pulling you into another kiss and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around him until he made it to the bedroom, dropping you on the bed and taking off his wet hoodie before climbing on top of you.

As much as he wanted to fuck you silly, he knew that wouldn’t build him a strong enough case. He didn’t want to make you feel like he was just here for a quick fix. He heard you sob about that enough in the past.

“You’re worth crawling back to” he said, kissing you again before you had a chance to answer.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

Once he pulled from the kiss, he latched onto your neck, sucking on all the spots he knew were sensitive. His hand traveled down your abdomen, running circles over your wet, needy clit.

Your moans were suddenly making his jeans feel too tight, causing him to grind against the mattress.

“Si— let me help you”

“No” he said, standing up on his knees and pulling your underwear down “for once let’s not make it about me dove”. And with that, his face was between your legs, pushing his tongue inside of you.

“Oh fuck—“ you moaned, arching your back.

He kept eating you out like you were his last meal before death. One hand held you firmly in place and the other was completely abusing your clit.

“Si— fuck— just like that, oh fuck” it felt so good you didn’t even realize you were tearing up.

“I’m gonna—“

“That’s right babe, come for me” he said, while his cock was still throbbing in his pants.

You didn’t need more encouragement before coming, your body twitching as Simon refused to let go of you, licking every drop.

You were panting, your eyes were glossy as you watched him climb on top of you again, kiss your forehead and then lay down next to you.

“What about you?” you asked, rolling on your side to face him.

He caressed your face with the back on his hand. It was rough, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I came here to apologize dove”

“But—“

“No buts little one”

He pulled you to him, nuzzling your hair. The room was dark, and the rain was still strong. How you take him back over and over, he couldn’t wrap his head around. He didn’t deserve you, that was for sure. His own ray of sunshine into the void his life was. He would never feel good enough for you, but for what it’s worth, you’re stuck with him. And he promised he would do better.

He didn’t remember just for how long he held you, but it must’ve been a while, for you started to snore.

This made him smile to himself, and he wrapped a blanket around you.

“…. I love you too” he said, but you were already asleep.

tag list: @blackhawkfanatic @milavk13 @thychuvaluswife @darkravenqueen98 @fruitymoonbeams-blog @coooookie15 @fictionallifestuff

if I missed anyone I apologize

#simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty

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yandere-sins · 6 months

Text

Favorite

You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.

Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)

a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)

Darkness is a vampire's best friend.

It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn.

Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them.

Deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"Hello, darling."

You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.

The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night.

Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.

He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you.

Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course.

You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.

"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.

Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position.

You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.

You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.

"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.

"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows.

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes.

"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."

His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.

A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head.

"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."

A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace.

"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."

You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"

"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."

This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear.

"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"

The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words.

Favorite. You were his favorite.

You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt.

"You're my undoing, pet."

"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."

Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.

"It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."

"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.

"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."

And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees.

You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.

"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.

Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."

"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."

It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."

"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything.

"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."

"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food.

"Oh, the food!"

His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it.

"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything, I promise."

His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.

"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."

There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.

"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."

"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin.

"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."

For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.

"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."

"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now.

"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."

There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?

But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place.

"That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake.

You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care.

By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.

"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."

You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead.

"And you're mine. All mine."

At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.

And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.

Because you were his favorite.

And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.

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doitforbangchan · 1 month

Text

It’s not fair - S.C

Masterlist

Changbin x reader (afab)

Summary: As your best friend, he can't just let you rot away... especially since he's in love with you.

This was an emergency request from my lovey Bumble Bee @ayejaii who I just adore. I hope you enjoy, my dear friend :)

Warnings: Angst, crying, hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, suggestive, cursing, Bestfriends to lovers trope, Binnie being perfect. Not proofread

WC: 1.6k

There was a distinct melancholy in the air surrounding your apartment. The curtains have not been drawn in days, making it seem mustier than Changbin had ever seen it. He had been calling you and texting you for days but you hadn’t answered once. Even though he had been your best friend for a few years, never once had you ignored him. He knew something must have happened and in his state of intense worry he sped to your home the second his recording session was over. Good thing he had the spare key you had given him in case of emergencies.

The first thing he did when he entered was scouring the room for you. The living room looked untouched from the last time he was here a few days ago. Right before your latest date with your dickhead fling. When he didn’t find you in the living room or kitchen he shuffled to your bedroom.

The door was cracked open, a gap big enough for your cat to fit through. Changbin peered inside the dark room, finding a cocooned lump in the middle of your bed. Your fluffy cat was curled next to you but upon his entry into your space got up from her lying position, letting out a little ‘mew’ in greeting to her second favorite human.

Changbin gave the cat a little scritch on the chin, before he sat on the edge of your bed. “Y/n? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You didn’t answer, he only heard a quiet sniffle come from the mass of blankets. “I’ve been worried about you, ya know. You haven’t been answering your phone. Not since you went out with Mike.” He said the man's name with a tone of disgust. Changbin had been in love with you since you first became friends all those years ago, and knew your fling didn’t deserve you. “Have you been laying here since then? It’s been 3 days.”

At the mention of the name, you let out a sob, your body shaking as you did. “Stop, Bin.” You croaked out, voice sounding like you hadn’t spoken words in days.

His mind immediately went to the worst, panic striking his body, ”Did.. Did he do something to you, Y/n? Did he hurt you?”

You peeked your face out of your cocoon just enough to meet his eyes. Your own eyes were puffy and red, as if you had been crying for hours on end. “No Changbin. He didn’t hurt me. Not physically at least.”

“What do ya mean, sweetheart?” He was confused, he thought things were going well with the dickhead.

“He..he broke up with me.” You sobbed, reburying your face in your covers.

“Oh honey, come er’,” he laid on your bed with you and cradled you into him. “He was a fucking dipshit who didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“I am so tired, Bin.”

“What are you tired of, y/n?” He tried to keep his voice even and soothing.

“I am so tired of men treating me like trash. Like I’m some toy they can throw away when they’re done playing with me.” Your shaking got worse, hiccuping between words. “ I try so hard to be good for them, be who they want me to be, but it doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters.”

“Don’t say that. None of it is your fault. You don’t have to change yourself for anyone, let alone some low life.” He had fury in his tone, though he was doing his best not to let it show.

“But it is my fault!” you flung the blankets off you as you sat up. Your voice was hysterical. “He told me it was! That I- I wasn’t enough for him. That I wasn’t the kind of girl he could see himself with in the long run. Why am I so unlovable?”

“That’s not true!” Changbin exploded. You were shocked at his outburst. “You are loveable! In fact I know someone who would kill to be with you, and treat you like you deserve!”

“Who, Binnie? What kind of man would want to be with a mess like me?!” you cried.

“Me, goddamnit!” Fuck, this is not how he imagined he would confess to you. It's too late now. “I am in love with you!”

Your tears came harder, “ Don’t say things you don’t mean, Changbin. It’s not fair.”

He cupped your cheeks, “What’s not fair, is how long I’ve spent pining after you. How long I’ve spent trying to show you how a man is supposed to treat a woman.” He was staring right into your eyes, being the most serious you had ever seen him. “It’s not fair that I have had to watch you go out with dirtbag after dirtbag, while I waited and hoped and prayed that you would finally see who was right here…me.”

You paused, glassy eyes wide. “Why did you never say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say? That I was in love with you while you were dating someone else? That I didn’t want you to be with anyone else? I couldn’t be selfish, not with you.”

“Oh Binnie” You flew at him, burying your face in his muscular chest. Your fingers grasped onto his shirt, trying to bring him as close as possible. “I have seen you there. I’ve always known your worth.”

“Don’t lie to make me feel better.” He whispered, his anguish showing in his voice.

“I’m not lying!” you wailed, “I have been in love with you for years, since we first met at Hyunjins birthday party!”

He remembers it so clearly, he often replays it in his mind. Being enamored with your soft smile and bright personality when Hyunjin introduced you a few years back. The pink dress you wore had hugged your figure just right, and your fluttering lashes had him in a trance. At the time, he was too chicken shit to ask you out for a real date, so instead he settled on being your friend.

“You were always so good to me, Bin. It’s impossible not to fall for you.” You sniffled, trying to make him see. “You always treat everybody so well, I didn’t think you felt the same way about me. I didn’t want to confess and be turned down by you. I couldn’t bear to be on the receiving end of your polite grimace you always have when rejecting a girl. Or even worse, have you feel bad for me and agree to date me in some self sacrificing way, making yourself miserable.I guess that's me, unable to be selfish with you.”

You waited with baited breath for his response. What you got instead was him wrapping his thick arms around you, and his face in your hair as he…laughed?

“You’re telling me, I waited so long for you to see me there. For you to love me like I do you. And you’ve been over here, feeling the exact same way? For years?” His laughing mingled with his now teary cries as he took in the situation. “Maybe it’s us who’s the actual dipshits.”

You couldn't help the watery giggles that escaped you. “ I think you’re right, Bin. We’re possibly the biggest idiots on earth.”

You both just held each other for a while, cry-laughing together on your bed. Eventually he was the first to pull away. Changbin wiped his watery eyes as he gazed down at you. Even with a puffy tear stained face you were still the most beautiful woman in the world.

His rough hands cupped your cheeks again, and he held your eye contact as he slowly leaned in closer. “If this isn’t what you want, I need you to stop me now,” he whispered.

“It’s all I want, Bin. You’re all I want.” You were the one to close the gap, your lips smashing into his with a delicate intensity. He reciprocated just as fiercely, almost as if this was a dream he would soon wake from.

Changbin knew if you’d let him, he could swallow you whole. Make you his in every way possible. Your little whimpers that escaped you when you bit on his lip didn’t go unnoticed. But, as much as he would love to take it further, he understood it wasn’t the right time. Sex wasn’t what you needed right now.

“Sweetheart,” he started, his words muffled when you wouldn’t let him pull away completely. you hummed, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Baby, we can’t right now. As much as I’m dying to finally get you naked, there are more pressing matters.” he managed to gently push you off.

“But Binniiiieeeee.” you whined with a pout.

“I know, my love, I know” he cooed, patting your hair, before standing from your bed. “ first things first, you gotta eat something and shower.” He scooped you into his arms as you squealed a laugh. “And let’s get this place aired out, huh? It reeks of despair in here.”

“Ugh fine” you relented, stomach growling at the promise of food. Plus if it meant you could stay in his arms longer, you would do anything he asked. “on one condition.”

“And what’s that, sweetheart?” he asked amused when you plopped you on your bathroom counter. He then turned on the bathtub tap letting it fill up for you.

“You have to take a bath with me.” There was a twinkling in your eye as you purred it.

“Fuck, you can’t say things like that. It’s not fair.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking flustered.

You pulled your shirt off, flinging it at him.

“Who ever said I was fair?”

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz #changbin x reader #changbin #changbin stray kids #straykids #changbin fluff

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [7] - On Edge

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

Summary: New enemies can complicate everything.

Word Count: 3200

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

Series Masterlist

You had to admit; your therapist had many good ideas but this?

You weren't so sure this was one of those good ideas.

You pulled the souffle out of the oven and took a look at it, then grabbed a toothpick and put it through the center, only to pull it out completely dry.

“God damn it!” you exclaimed, putting it next to the other five failed attempts, and grabbed the bowl again. “This fucking…”

“What are you doing?”

Your head shot up and you looked over your shoulder. “What the—go away, why are you here?”

Bucky raised his brows.

“Hello to you too Charm,” he said, putting his hands into his pockets, his eyes darting around the kitchen. Even you had to admit that the sight of you in the kitchen was unfamiliar, considering that you barely knew how to make eggs but seeing him in your kitchen was equally strange. Your chef would normally be in the kitchen at this time but you were pretty sure he wasn’t here to see her.

“Who told you I was here?”

“The maid,” he said and motioned at the bowl you were holding. “What is this?”

“Why are you here?”

“I asked first.”

You heaved a sigh and put the bowl back on the counter, then crossed your arms.

“I’m baking,” you said as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with that statement, and Bucky frowned slightly.

“Why?” he asked. “What is this, your plan to play house with your civilian boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“My therapist seems to think it’s a good idea,” you said. “She says I should do things like these to relax my mind.”

“Right, you sounded very relaxed when I walked in.”

“It’s because these fucking souffles refuse to have chocolatey center!” you snapped and Bucky blinked a couple of times.

“You’ve never baked once in your life and you decided to start with one of the hardest things to bake in the world?”

“Go big or go home.”

“I’m right with you on that but when it comes to baking, people usually start with cookies.”

“I already baked cookies, they weren’t challenging enough,” you said, motioning at the plate on the kitchen island and he walked to it to get a cookie.

“Did you poison these?”

“Yeah,” you said and he shrugged, then took a bite of it, a look of surprise crossing his face as he chewed on it.

“This is actually good,” he said. “Is this cinnamon?”

“It’s arsenic,” you deadpanned and he nodded his head.

“You know, if you ever decide to go into it professionally, we can get you a bakery.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious, we’d put it in the neutral territory if it makes you feel any better, it could work—”

“Why are you here?” you cut him off and he popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth, then leaned back to the island.

“I’ve been summoned,” he said. “So has everyone else.”

Your eyes widened. “Everyone else? What do you mean, everyone else?”

“All the bosses in the city.”

“What the—why?” you asked, lowering your voice and he shot you a smirk.

“How long have you been here?”

“Bucky!” you hissed and he grabbed another cookie.

“There’s been an attack.”

“An attack?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat. “From a family?”

“Not from a family,” he answered. “An outsider, or so it seems.”

“What outsider?” you asked and he chewed on his bite.

“No seriously, if I paid you, would you make more of these for me?”

You smacked his arm and snatched the cookie out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“What outsider?”

“It happened in Stark’s territory,” he said, eyeing the cookie. “He knows more than I do, he and your father had a talk I heard but we will all be informed in the meeting.”

You arched a brow. “And?”

“I swear to you, that’s all I know. Can I get it back now?”

You heaved a sigh and handed him the cookie, making him shoot you a happy smile.

“Thank you.”

“Do you think they’re the same people who were involved in the shootout?”

Bucky clenched his jaw, then cleared his throat.

“Who knows?” he said. “So did you think about my proposal?”

You threw your head back in frustration, then jumped to sit on the island, crossing your legs.

“I did,” you said, leaning slightly back, resting your palms on the island and pretending to be in deep thought. “And you know what, it kind of makes sense to use a marriage for my benefit and rise to power.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was holding his breath, a hopeful light glimmering in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah so, Steve or Sam?” you asked airily and he frowned.

“What?”

“Yeah, I mean Romanoff is with Banner, Barton is married, so is Stark…”

A groan left his lips. “Charm…”

“So that leaves us Steve or Sam.”

“They’re my best friends.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I know that. So what?”

“They would never.”

“Why not?” you asked. “Because you called dibs on me or something?”

He averted his gaze from you and you sat up straighter, pulling your brows together.

“Bucky,” you growled. “You have exactly three seconds to tell me you didn’t call dibs on me as if I’m a cookie because we’re standing in a kitchen full of knives—”

“I didn’t!” he said. “They just…they won’t, okay?”

“Well then that plan is not going to work because I’d never marry you—” you started but heard a knock by the door, making you turn your head to look at Steve.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” you said. “Bucky was just leaving.”

Steve glanced around the kitchen with his brows raised. “Since when do you bake?”

“It’s very good for mental health!” your defensive answer came almost too fast and he held up his hands.

“Alright then.”

“It does calm you down,” Bucky said solemnly and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m going to take your cookie back.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Steve eyed the cookies. “Can I have one too?”

“See? He asks for permission,” you told Bucky. “Perfect marriage material there.”

“Excuse me, what?” Steve asked, gawking at you before Bucky grabbed a cookie from the plate and tossed it to Steve who caught it mid-air, then he turned to you.

“You know where to find me.”

“Yeah, between some woman’s legs,” you retorted, making him roll his eyes as Steve chuckled.

“I’ll see you around Charm,” he said and walked out of the kitchen with Steve following him. You nibbled on your lip, then grabbed a cookie and laid down on the island, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.

“So relaxed,” you murmured as you bit into the cookie. "I'm so very relaxed."

That meeting took hours to be finished and even though you wanted to stick around in the house, you still had plans with Ethan for lunch. You were at the end of your wits from curiosity so by the time Ethan got there, you were still glued to your phone, waiting for a text from Becca.

“Hey,” he said, pressing a kiss on your cheek and you smiled up at him.

“Hey,” you said and took out the small container out of your handbag to put it in front of him, making him tilt his head.

“What is this?”

“Cookies,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. “I made them today.”

Ethan stared at you. “You made cookies?”

“Why does everyone sound so shocked about it?” you asked back and Ethan chuckled.

“Y/N, while we were dating, you tried to make toast in the microwave.”

“It’s not my fault if microwaves aren’t that advanced yet,” you told him and he chuckled.

“Of course,” he played along, opening the container to take out a cookie. “What brought on this sudden interest in baking?”

“My psychiatrist,” you said as he took a careful bite and his eyes widened.

“You made this?”

You gasped in a dramatic manner and pushed at his boot with your heel. “I take your disbelief as a compliment.”

“You should, it’s amazing!” he said. “So your psychiatrist told you to bake cookies?”

“Well not just bake but more like…you know, relaxing stuff,” you said. “I started with baking because it sounded more interesting than the other options. And more delicious as well.”

“I think you unlocked a talent there,” he said and you hummed.

“Eh, maybe. My souffles disagree.”

“You made souffles?”

“I started for souffles but now I have muffins,” you said. “You know, not much of a difference there.”

“Muffins are better than souffles anyway,” he told you, grabbing another cookie as the waiter brought his coffee. “Thank you.”

“So I was going to ask you,” you said, turning your phone in your hand. “Where is your apartment exactly?”

“Between 33rd and 34th street right across from the bank, downstairs there’s a cute—”

“Drawing supplies store,” you finished his sentence for him and he blinked a couple of times.

“Do you have a map in your mind or something?”

“My father made me basically memorize the whole city so yeah,” you said and heaved a sigh. “Great. Stark’s territory.”

He pulled his brows together. “Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily,” you said, running a hand over your face. “So hypothetically speaking—”

“Jesus, we’re back to that?” he teased you and you shook your head slightly.

“No I’m serious,” you said. “Hypothetically speaking, it wouldn’t be a good idea to wander around there late in the evening nowadays.”

His frown deepened.

“Is this related to that attack there earlier today?”

Your eyes shot up to his. “You were there?”

“No no, not very close at least,” he said. “It’s just—there was terrible traffic and I heard the police cards and the ambulance, and people were saying there was an attack.”

“At who? Or what?”

“I really don’t know,” he said, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I didn’t really think much of it. So is this related?”

You pursed your lips together and shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not sure but as my dad says, you can never be too careful,” you said. “Alright, here’s the thing. I’ll hire someone to keep an eye around your apartment just in case—”

“Wait, what?”

“Just as a precaution.”

“Y/N, I’m a civilian,” he said with a small laugh. “You said civilians don’t get involved—”

“They don’t, it’s a just precaution,” you repeated, taking another sip of your coffee. “I’m sure nothing is going to happen, but it’s good to be careful.”

He leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.

“I’m not gonna have a bodyguard following my every move, right?”

“No they do that with me, not you,” you said, a smile curling your lips. “I assure you, you won’t even notice they’re around.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Not really, I don’t hire amateurs.”

A small chuckle climbed up his throat and he shook his head.

“This is insane.”

“You wanted excitement,” you pointed out. “I’m just making sure that excitement doesn’t turn into actual danger, that’s all.”

He popped another cookie in his mouth. “Did you bring me these so that I would feel more relaxed?”

You shot him a mischievous grin. “Maybe. Is it working?”

“I feel better about it than I would have with zero cookies,” he joked, coaxing out a giggle from you. “So wait, you wanted to let me know first?”

“Yeah because I don’t want to be the psycho ex who puts people in your tail in secret.”

“No, just the ex who has the ability to pull something like that and bake cookies at the same time.”

“I’m nothing if not versatile,” you stated, making him laugh.

“Oh trust me,” he said. “I’m well aware of that.”

You mirrored his smile and held his gaze, biting at your lip before sitting up straighter.

“So,” you said. “Enough about me. How’s everything at the office?”

When you got back home, the meeting was mostly over but apparently Bucky and Sam had stayed for a short talk with your father. Even Ian was sent out of the room which gave you a strange satisfaction but it didn’t last very long when you saw him smirking while talking on the phone in the living room. You stepped inside and flung yourself on the couch, crossing your arms while waiting for him to finish.

“Yeah no, because I said—that’s what I’m saying, just be prepared for anything, we don’t know whose territory it might be next. If it’s ours…”

You checked your nails, humming a song just so that you could get on his nerves and Ian stole a look at you.

“I’ll call you later,” he said and hung up, then put his phone into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Y/N.”

“Ian,” you said. “They kicked you out while the real bosses speak then?”

“I had to step outside to make some calls,” he said and you hummed.

“Before or after they kicked you out?”

“Better than not being invited in at all,” he stated, making your jaw clench. “I half expected to see you eavesdropping in the hallway, you surprised me.”

You clicked your tongue, then shot him a fake smile.

“Do they ask you to bring them coffee?” you asked. “While they talk? Like an assistant.”

“I know you find this hard to accept, but I hold a very important part in those meetings,” he said. “Seeing that I’m the heir.”

“Are you though?” you asked. “Father didn’t officially announce you.”

“And he certainly won’t announce you,” he said and you crossed your legs, trying to seem calm and collected.

“So what is going to happen if our territory is next?” you asked him airily and he sat down on the couch across from yours.

“We are going to retaliate.”

“And you hope our territory is next,” you stated and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not at all but if it is, we will handle it.”

“And the rest of the city?” you asked. “The other territories?”

He rolled his eyes. “You might want to check your priorities there, Y/N.”

“Do you seriously think our territory can just survive on its own?” you asked back. “Do you think if it somehow leads to a war, if any of the other territories get affected, we will still be fine? That will affect the truce and if the peace—”

“That’s the difference between you and me,” Ian cut you off. “The exact reason why uncle chose me as his heir over you. I don’t care much for peace.”

You stared at him, your heart beating in your ears because of the fury spreading through you over his words but before you could say anything, you heard Bucky’s voice in the foyer. You shot up from the couch, rushed to the foyer to see Bucky and Sam, your heels echoing on the marble floor.

“Hi Sam, nice to see you,” you said without even stopping, and grabbed Bucky’s arm to drag him towards the spiral stairs. “You’re coming with me.”

“What, it’s not good to see me?” Bucky asked but followed you without so much as an argument. You made your way through the hallway after you reached the top of the stairs, then pushed him into your room and slammed the door behind you.

“Charm if you wanted me in your bedroom, all you had to do was ask—”

“Keep dreaming,” you snapped at him and he shot you a mischievous grin.

“Hi.”

“What did you all talk about?”

He looked around the room as if trying to take it in as much as he could, and you followed his gaze as it fell on the fireplace and to your reading corner by the window, then to the antique mirror and your vanity before he approached your bed to sit down on it.

“Lovely room,” he commented and you crossed your arms.

“Tell me.”

“This relationship is starting to feel very one-sided—”

“That’s because it is,” you cut him off. “What is going on?”

He heaved a sigh and ran his vibranium hand through his hair.

“Well, at least now we have a name,” he said. “One of the men Stark captured, he said something.”

You arched a brow. “What did he say?”

“Hydra.”

You pulled your brows together, deep in thought.

“Doesn’t sound familiar,” you said. “What, are they new or something?”

Bucky scoffed a laugh and shook his head.

“Not at all,” he said. “We’re still gathering more information about them but they’re not new, that’s for sure.”

You clicked your tongue.

“And let me guess,” you said. “They’re not just a couple of people?”

Bucky shook his head again and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a breath as you opened them.

“Fuck.”

Bucky shot you a dry smile. “My reaction exactly.”

“But either way, if all families are working together against them,” you thought out loud. “It means—where did they attack in Stark’s territory, by the way? One of his places?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“A café.”

“Stark doesn’t own a café.”

“No he doesn’t.”

Your stomach did a painful flip as you stared at him.

“Civilians?” you asked, your voice hoarse. “They’re attacking civilians?”

“They’re attacking everyone including civilians,” Bucky answered and you pursed your lips together.

“So no code then,” you murmured. “They’ll create chaos and…”

“We will stop them before they do that,” Bucky assured you as he stood up from the bed. “But Charm, listen to me. From now on, nowhere in the city is one hundred percent safe, no matter whose territory it is. That whole bullshit you keep pulling with no bodyguards—”

“I don’t have a death wish,” you cut him off. “I know how dangerous it can get in a situation like this. I grew up with the same stories as you, remember?”

Bucky’s phone started vibrating and he checked the caller ID, then put it back in his pocket again.

“I gotta go,” he said. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“To repeat, I—”

“Charm,” he interrupted you as if he didn’t have the time for nonsense, his tone completely serious. “Promise me. Please.”

You frowned slightly, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah sure,” you said and he nodded to himself, then walked to the door but stop when he heard you say his name.

“Bucky?”

He turned to you. “Yeah?”

“This whole thing, it won’t lead to the truce breaking, will it?” you asked, desperately trying to convince yourself. “Between the families?”

Bucky shot you an almost reprimanding look like he could see right through you.

“I’ll lie to you if you want me to but we did grow up with the same stories Charm,” he reminded you. “It will lead to something, and you know it as well as I do.”

With that, he walked out of your room and you sat down on the armchair across from the fireplace with a sigh, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You gritted your teeth together and leaned your head back, then pressed your palms on your eyes.

“Oh,” you said. “God damn it.”

Chapter 8

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