#but there have been some that surprised me even in their attempts
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HOT BABES IN YOUR AREA
⋆ your broke boyfriend and roommate Toji suggests you both start an onlyfans.
⋆ mdni. +f!reader, obviously filming unprotected sx, groping, taking suggestive pictures, dirty talk, very very dirty talk, praising, squirting, he calls you slut once.
a soft pop was heard from Toji’s back shoulders as he stretched, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired yawn. it'd been a long day in between picking up uncalled fights and betting on races, luckily he managed to make some money, at least enough to cover a few expenses like the bills and a part of the rent of the shitty overpriced apartment you lived in. he didn’t really care though, as long as he got to see your pretty face, Toji would agree to live under a bridge.
after counting the hundreds bills he hummed satisfied, putting them in his pocket while walking through the bustling streets, following the path he knew perfectly. and to his luck, the first thing he finds upon entering your living room is well, you, sitting on the couch looking worn out. why did your cute little face was even cutter all exhausted?
“welcome home” you chime, giving the man a soft smile and slight look as he steps through the door, “how was your day?” the words are mingled with the tap of your fingers on a laptop keyboard, focused and slightly squinted eyes flickering through the bright screen.
Toji smirks at the sound of your voice, walking over the back of the couch where you sit and tilting your head sideways, a bit rougher than intended, but the languid kiss he leaves on your mouth doesn’t let you complain, “shitty” he grins, parting from your mouth with a slight thread of saliva connecting you both, “but that’s life, doll, sometimes we win, sometimes we lose”
“liar” you say with furrowed brows and a knowing look, “where’s the money”
you have always been so good at looking though him, with a deep chuckle he reaches for the pocket of his loose pants, waving the wad of cash in the air before returning it to it's previous place, “any luck?” he asks pointing to your laptop with his chin, curious whether you’d got any luck at searching for a proper paying job.
“mm, nothing new” you mention, the tapping fading as your caught by surprise at the sudden movement of Toji attempting to lay on your lap, not giving a fuck whether he did it on top of the keyboard and ruined your most valuable possession, “hey...!”
ignoring your struggles he speaks, “y’know, there has to be another way to earn money, not like we can live solely from gambling, huh?” he chuckles, he knew he was not stopping with the gambling, “maybe you can come bet with me, maybe we can try something else...”
you raise a brow, looking down at him on your lap “what are you thinking about?”
a slow grin spreading through his face as he licks his teeth once, “you ever heard of onlyfans?”
a choke is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you really should have grown used to Toji’s boldness by the months you’ve been dating —and currently, living together, “are you serious?”
“c’mon, don’t give me that look” he huffs, teasingly rolling his eyes “we could be earning money while having fun”
you have actually considered the option, and now coming from your boyfriend’s lips sounded even more tempting, specially with the way he not so subtly adjusted his gigantic cock beneath his pants. what was he even thinking of.
you give him a tilted look, urging him into continue with the thought and earning a dark chuckle in return, “we can sell some pictures, y’know” he starts, sitting upright and kneeling with one of your thighs between his, cupping the back of your neck to keep your gaze on his, so close you felt his breathing on your lips, “maybe even stream ourselves fuckin’, n’ charge people too watch. we’d be swimming in money in no time” his voice drops and a devilish gleam lighting up his eyes, “thinkin’ bout it got me hard as fuck”
and with the way his heavy, hot bulge is pressing on your thigh you’re getting so horny too, breathlessly whispering a “yeah, alright” that’s a bit too desperate.
“that’s my girl” he purrs, leaning down to suck your tongue onto his mouth, the sound so lewd your panties get wet in an instant, “need to fuck you hard..., but not yet, babe” voice is thick with lust, in a sudden movement you’re on top of him, straddling his hips while his fingers trail across your stomach, dipping low to brush on the edge of your underwear peaking from above your pants, “gotta show off what we got goin’ on here” as he speaks one hand comes up to slide under your shirt, squeezing a breast slightly rough, "you got nice tits, babe, why don’tcha let me take a pic of them?, with this pretty little body of yours all those perverts will be paying good for more than just a picture”
“you’re turning into quite a businessman” you tease, an attempt of a grin on your face that gets interrupted by a sharp gasp at the rough touch of your lover’s calloused fingertips pinching your nipples, then your shirt is out in the blink of an eye.
one hand grasping your phone and the other slides the cup of your bra down, enough to feel the weight on his palm, “mm, someone’s got a really nice pair” focusing on capturing the swell of your breasts and his tough palm cupping your soft skin, Toji starts snapping the pictures, occasionally flicking your nipples to watch them harden under his touch, “that should be enough” he groans after a while, pulling you down for a kiss and setting your phone into your pocket so both his hands reach for your ass, gently guiding your hips back and forth on his hard cock.
“you’ve got nice tits too, why don’t you let me take pics of them?” you smirk against him, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend before he’s carrying you to the bedroom, placing you in bed while he hoovers your body, deliberately slow peeling off his own shirt with a wide smirk on his lips.
soon your phone gallery is filled with 'thirst traps' as you roll in bed, “these will sell good” you murmur, voice hoarse from the endless teasing as you watch at your small hand wrapped around Toji’s fat cock through the device screen, languidly masturbating him until the flushed mushroom shaped tip drooled precum all over your belly.
Toji has never been as turned on in his entire life, quickly gripping your hips and guiding his length down to gently tap your lower abdomen, mimicking a thrust that reaches your belly button, “fuck..” his breathing comes unsteady, each thrust drawing more precum, and honestly it was extremely surprising for him to be so worked up without fucking your cunt.
it’s not a surprise your account grows so much and so sudden, the sexual tension and undeniable chemistry present in every post, and just as expected, what started with merely pictures turned into videos; a better quality camera perched on a side of the bed where the sight of your dripping pussy swallowing Toji’s cock was on prime sight, sinking and raising with practiced ease, “f-fuck, Toji” you mewl, rolling your hips on his pelvis before continuing to bounce hard with the help of his hands squeezing your ass. each gasp and slap only encouraging you further, so ready to fill your tight walls with a nice creampie.
your bank account gets as filled as your closet, with Toji delving into the pleasure of buying you slutty skirts and panties to rip during live streams, although his favorite one is a cream, pleated skirt, one that barely covers your ass, but who cares when that’s what the public wants.
“it’s so difficult not to fuck you right now” Toji grunts staring at your outfit a bit too intensely, opting instead to cup your cheeks roughly and kissing you sloppily, plunging his tongue into your willing mouth, just for a good couple of minutes to leave you hot and bothered.
a bit embarrassing at first, specially considering one of your boyfriend’s favorite positions to fuck you in was sitting on a chair in front of the desk with your streaming setup, camera pointing directly at your barely covered ass that slapped and jiggled lewdly with each forceful pull of Toji’s hands on your waist, fucking you on his throbbing cock.
“oh yeah, babe, such a good fuckin’ girl, taking every inch of my cock” he coos against your ear, looking straight into the camera that perfectly captures the way your lips hungrily grip his cock, juices splattering around with each smack of his balls on your ass.
“Toji, toji, toji!” is all you can moan, turning into a broken sob as you’re unable to move or squirm, just beg and take cock, “t’s so deep, oh god, T-toji slow down”
but he just snarls in return, the chime of incoming tips only fueling his stamina, “your pussy is begging for it, doll, tightening around my cock, ah shit—, so creamy and juicy, my pretty little cock hungry slut”
his thrusting becomes more frantic, his shaft plunging into the depths of your cunt, heavy and full balls slapping your ass until it got sore.
“m’cumming, ngh, o-oh fuck,... toji, please!” with a sudden, and extra rough thrust aimed at your g-spot you squirt loudly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as your juices splatter around, most likely staining the camera lens with a couple drops by the sound of the stream tips increasing, you didn’t care though, focused on not passing out as you scream and tits rub on your boyfriend’s chest, adding into the sensation, yet your money lust driven lover doesn’t stop, pulling your hands back against your back for his to hold, bouncing you on his cock solely from the grip of one of his hands and his hips bucking up widely.
he hums, biting down on his tongue at the tightening of his balls from the sensation of your walls milking his cock, sucking him deeper with each thrust into your needy, cumming core, so close to filling your womb with his own cum “making a mess on my cock, your juices are dripping everywhere, was it that good?” you can’t reply, obviously, “i’m so close, darling, ready to fill your messy cunt with my seed”
#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), infidelity, foul language, substance use, underage drinking, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic, sexually suggestive content
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. the series is told in non-chronological order. note that the main character is a member of a fictional idol group. more warnings may be added as the story is written. join the taglist here!
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤm.list | next
you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't"
we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't
TODAY’S TOP HEADLINE: bts’ rm, jimin, taehyung and jungkook set to enlist in the coming weeks!
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤautumn 2023
the confrontation
when it rained, it poured and you felt like you haven't seen even a glimpse of the sun in ages. there was a nagging feeling in your gut that it was too far gone, but like everything else for the past ten years, you swallowed it down and swept it under the rug. bad feelings didn’t exist in your relationship. that was the unspoken rule. yet, it was growing more and more difficult to mask the disappointment in your eyes or the frown fighting your lips. today marked the worst of your attempts.
seoul was unusually calm tonight and it scared you. when you moved to the city ages ago to begin your journey as an idol trainee, it was nothing but intimidating for your meek, pre-teen self. eventually, over time, your love for the city bloomed and it was truthfully because of jungkook. once young teenagers that arrived to seoul alone, you found solace in each other and embraced the change as one. he made you fall in love with seoul the same way he made you fall in love with him. dates, nightclubs, late night adventures, and years worth of moments within the city limits.
however, the streets were as hushed as you were, as you gripped your steering wheel like a robot.
the decision had been long made and you knew it was going to come around at some point, so there was no use in fighting it. after going without seeing your boyfriend for months, it should have been nothing but pure excitement.
“you’re awfully quiet,” murmured jungkook, glancing over at you from the passenger seat.
you were already annoyed to begin with, when he mentioned that he was going to have a driver pick him up from the airport, instead of asking for you. it felt like he didn’t even expect to have you waiting for him, considering the two of you had been apart due to his time working in the united states. you thought he’d be insisting for you to be the first person he saw once he came back. these frustrations were on top of several other things, which you’d been dreading to confront for even longer of a time.
and then, there was also the velvet box you spotted in the background of one of your facetime calls. you didn’t bring it up, but it was living in your mind everyday since. with jungkook’s big day fast approaching, there were a lot of conflicting ideas in your head.
you shrugged. “i’ve been filming long hours. not getting that much sleep.”
the look jungkook gave you read that he knew that you weren’t being a hundred percent honest, but he didn’t say anything. his eyes returned to being fixated on his phone.
after over ten years of knowing each other, you and jungkook could see through each other like glass. the only problem was that nobody ever wanted to speak up. you feared the glaring possibility of other buried conflict dating further back into the relationship because of this dynamic.
you didn’t think you deserved the blame for the tension in the air. there were several things in your mind, but jungkook wasn’t exactly a person who could easily mask their emotions. something was off with him, too, and you needed to figure out what it was. you could only hope for the best case scenario because otherwise, it was going to be your worst nightmare. there was no situation you could fathom where his behaviour was a result of an in between.
keeping your voice casual, you asked, “who are you texting?”
“my mom.”
you held back a sigh - jungkook was never particularly keen on involving you with his family. though you’d been together since he was sixteen, you always felt like he kept you an arm’s reach away from that part of your life and you never understood why.
“oh. tell her i say hi,” you said and he hummed in response.
whilst you weren’t in a talkative mood, it wasn’t like jungkook was doing anything to keep the conversation flowing either. you guys obviously texted and called during his time away, but the present atmosphere was awkward, like there was nothing to talk about after his grand return. you hugged and kissed at the airport, asked how his flight was, and that was that. driving him felt like a business endeavour, rather than welcoming your long-term partner back to the country.
after a few minutes, jungkook finally looked up from his phone. upon peering out the window, he grew confused and turned to you.
he questioned, “where are we going? the apartment is in the other direction.”
“just wait,” you assured, forcing a small smile. “take off your hoodie and put on what i have for you in the backseat.”
there was a shopping bag sitting behind jungkook’s seat and he reluctantly reached over, revealing a silk ysl shirt that you picked up that very afternoon. sighing, he did as you asked and made the change. you didn’t care to look over at your boyfriend’s shirtless body, too irritated at the curtness of the conversation.
you just wanted to get to the destination, the heavy silence becoming too much for you. there wasn’t even music on. you found yourself focusing too much on it, as you finally pulled up to the infamous hotel azure. somehow tucked away in the busy songpa district, it is unassuming to the civilian eye, but a well-known name amongst the circles of south korea’s entertainment industry. you didn’t “make it” in entertainment until you attended a party at hotel azure.
jungkook shifted in his seat. “what is this?” his tone was demanding, which immediately put you off. “the plan was to go home.”
to be fair, the last time that the two of you were at the azure hotel, jungkook wound up with a bloody nose after getting into it with an not-to-be-named yg idol at one of jackson wang’s wild parties. you weren’t even sure what happened yourself, bleary eyed for the majority of the night with several substances in your body. hotel azure was for idols at the top of the world with everything to lose, a favourite place of yours around 2018. it was now a place that you actively tried to avoid, but made an exception for the special occasion.
“calm down,” you shot back, not letting him get away with the voice he used. “just wait, i said.”
“i’m tired, y/n,” jungkook pleaded, as you stopped the car for the valet to take.
you ignored him - it wasn’t like it was up to you - and unbuckled your seatbelt, not waiting a second for jungkook.
not only did you pick up your boyfriend from the airport, you also spent hours meticulously preparing your appearance for the night. it didn’t seem like jungkook noticed, other than at the airport, when he questioned why you were wearing high heels.
you never wore heels unless you were working, but that changed when you met jungkook. he loved it when you wore heels and by the time your respective trainee debts were paid, made it a point. you bought platforms with the anticipation of how your boyfriend would go crazy over them. jungkook gifted you designer jimmy choos and pradas whenever you guys got into a fight. it made you feel your prettiest and he showered you with compliments every time.
now, he looked at you oddly for it, like you were doing too much.
jungkook eventually gave up and followed you in without a word, watching you take off your trench coat to reveal a stunning baby pink two-piece dress. the colour glittered under the low lighting of the hotel lobby and the corset accentuated your curves in all the right aways. except, he still did not say a word. this made you frown.
you handed off your coat to an employee and jungkook did the same. the lobby was empty, but you and jungkook knew exactly where to go, making a beeline for the elevator and pressing the button to move up to the penthouse suite.
“why didn’t you warn me about this?” he grumbled under his breath, adjusting his shirt in the mirror.
because that’s how surprise parties work, you wanted to reply. unfortunately, this was not a surprise party that you wanted to celebrate, so you didn’t even try to keep jungkook excited. you were both quiet, irritable, and only wanted to go home.
you said, “this is the part where i cover your eyes and lead you out.”
jungkook complied and you placed your perfectly manicured hands over his line of vision. other than sharing a hug and kiss earlier, this was the closest you’d physically gotten to your boyfriend in months. your hands were cold and you were close enough that he could hear your breathing - all too uncomfortable.
the elevator dinged and you nudged jungkook to step forward. the penthouse’s lights were off, but you could make out the shuffling of feet from behind the kitchen counter. it looked like everything was set up and pristine. then, in just a beat, the entire room lit up and you removed your hands from jungkook’s eyes.
“SURPRISE!”
the floor rumbled, voices roaring and bodies popping out from different places - behind pillars, couches and the bar. jungkook’s eyes brightened in a way that you had yet to see since reuniting with him earlier and it made your heart sink. you hadn’t realized how dull his demeanour was around you until something else actually made him smile.
his closest friends and family gathered in the penthouse and there was a large, golden banner that hung from the walls that said “welcome back jungkook!” the other wall was decorated with another banner, but this one said “good luck rm, v, jimin and jungkook!”
jungkook’s older brother was the first one that enveloped him into a bear hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him, then his mom. this was followed by the remainder of his band mates that managed to make the party. you awkwardly stood off to the side, a wide smile plastered on your face to mask your despondence. it seemed like jungkook’s exhaustion only existed when he was sitting in a car with you, as his laughter echoed throughout the room.
you caught jungkook’s eye and he already knew how you were feeling. while he exchanged words with other friends, it was namjoon who pulled you to the side.
“hey. you guys did a really great job with the party,” you started, looking around.
the penthouse of the azure hotel was a thing of beauty, with ceiling high windows that looked over the lights of seoul. everything shone and glimmered - the city skyline, the perfect marble floors, the expensive liquor bottles, and hell, even the perfect teeth of the myriad of a-list south korean celebrities gracing this exclusive party. there wasn’t a wrong way to ever throw a party there, but the group made an extra effort to make jungkook’s homecoming a special one.
jungkook was swarmed by several people, all asking about his time in america and how exciting it was. those were the words you used to describe it for him, too, when you sent him off months ago. you watched him take shots with mingyu and eunwoo.
namjoon shook his head, “no, no. this wouldn’t be possible without you,” he said and then glanced at jungkook, “and i’m sure he knows it, too.”
the boys, despite it also serving as a goodbye party before their enlistments, had been helping you plan the surprise for weeks leading up to jungkook’s arrival. it was one of the longest times jungkook had been apart from them and from the country in general, so they wanted to make it extra special. though you were the main mastermind behind the gathering, you initially didn’t want to do it at all.
“yeah, i hope so,” you replied, as you poured yourself a glass of white wine. “you guys all deserve it.”
over the years, jungkook’s band mates slowly became some of your friends, as well. it was somber goodbye for you in all kinds of ways. everyone was preparing to send them off with good luck and high spirits.
the boys were also preparing in their own way. you noticed that taehyung and jimin’s girlfriends were missing from the party, which only confirmed your speculations.
“it was just bound to happen,” said a voice.
it was taehyung who joined you and namjoon in a quiet circle at the corner of the living room. all of the boys looked a little bit sad, despite the celebratory atmosphere, but you read a different kind of story in taehyung’s eyes.
he smiled with a hint of gloom. “you’re looking around for her, right?”
as a fellow idol and also a girlfriend to a member of one of the biggest groups in the world, taehyung’s girlfriend grew to become one of your close confidants in the past few years. you guys were polite before, but this connection created a specific bond that couldn’t be understood by anyone else. however, you hadn’t heard from her in a few days and with her absence at taehyung’s goodbye party, you put two and two together.
to his side, namjoon clapped a hand on his friend’s back. “sorry, man.”
“i hope it was cordial,” you mustered up, ignoring the growing heaviness at the pit of your stomach. you could only hope you weren’t next.
taehyung replied. “she understood, but she wasn’t happy. regardless,” he sighed, “we’re still so young. her career is just blowing up even more, i feel like i’d only be holding her back.”
that was the way it went. when enlistment rolled around for most couples, it was either breaking up or a ring. you looked at your feet, not knowing what to say.
“jimin also told me that he broke things off with - “
a loud yelp squeaked from taehyung, who was abruptly jabbed in the side with namjoon’s elbow. the latter cleared his throat and you recognized that look. namjoon only made that face when he pulled the leader card and needed to put someone in their place. you figured that your worries were transparent to those around you.
namjoon cleared his throat. “not in a chatty mood?”
while you greeted people during the set-up of the party, you realized that you had yet to actually try socializing. things were awkward with jungkook’s parents, who you long suspected didn’t approve of you for various reasons. in general, most people were interested in chatting with the boys, which you didn’t mind. it was a gathering to send them off, after all.
“not really. you guys should go mingle with your friends,” you said, taking another sip of your wine. “it’s your party.”
“i hope i’m not overstepping, but did you and jungkook get in a fight?” taehyung asked.
you blinked slowly. “no. does it seem like it?”
“just seems like he’s nervous about something,” he commented and you noticed namjoon glare at him once more, as if to shut up.
for the first time that night, you felt a glimmer of mixed feelings that left you wondering. why would he be nervous? the big visual forming in your mind was a diamond ring. you and jungkook had contemplated marriage in the past year, but it was also the source of many arguments. you weren’t even sure you wanted to get married now, but your mother had been getting into your ear about you getting older. then, there were your respective companies who lost their shit at the idea. but, what really mattered, was jungkook’s opinion. he seemed to wave it off or change the topic at every opportunity, so your hopes for a ring lived in the back of your mind.
despite this, taehyung was right. jungkook looked nervous. he’d been irritated at being dragged to his surprise party - you wondered if it was delusional enough to believe that he had plans for the two of you, instead.
for the rest of the night, you continued to keep to yourself. you weren’t lying when you told jungkook you were tired, but you were determined to stay as long as you could and pretend that you and jungkook weren’t stealing mysterious glances at each other for the entire evening. it was obvious and only made you anxious.
a few hours later and the party only grew in numbers and in noise. you thought you lost him in the crowd, until you left to refill your nth drink and found him talking to his cousin.
the two were smiling and laughing, as his cousin appeared to be showing jungkook pictures on his phone. you assumed it was her newborn daughter - she gave birth just two months before her fiance was to be discharged and now that he was back, the wedding was just around the corner. you remembered jungkook telling you that she was proposed to on the day of his enlistment.
jungkook caught your eye and he immediately looked away - what the hell was that? he even turned slightly and you couldn’t read his lips. something was going on. you watched him shove his hands in his pockets and you swore you saw the shape of a small square inside.
eventually, you grew tired of the tension in the air and the music began to make your head pound. the longer you thought about your partner, the greater your anxieties grew. there was a chance you even just although it was late in the year and a fresh sheet of snow adorned the streets of seoul, you decided it was best to step out into the balcony to take some time to breathe.
nobody else was there, thankfully, and you let out a shiver when you stepped out. the peppermint air dispelled the haze in your head and in your heart, as taking a deep breath was the greatest relief you felt all night. though your muscles remained tense and you knew you wouldn’t last out in the cold, the balcony was a welcome change.
you weren’t sure how long you were outside when the door creaked open and just by the footsteps alone, you knew who it was.
“your guests will miss you,” you said, not even looking behind you.
at this point, you were hugging yourself to stop shivering. a rustle later and you felt a thick blanket drape over your shoulders, the wool of its make completely enveloping you with much needed warmth. you relaxed your shoulders, but couldn’t look jungkook in the eyes.
“something’s wrong. tell me.”
jungkook’s wine stained lips were pulled into a frown and although he hid it well when he was chatting away with his friends and family, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. he sniffled a few times and you knew why, but you decided to bite your tongue. it was his party and he was an adult who could celebrate whatever way he wanted. it was also clear that neither of you had the energy to argue. instead, to his surprise, you raised an arm and gestured for him to come closer.
he sidestepped towards you and although you were shorter, let you wrap some of the blanket around him. his cold arm snaked around your waist and you tensed up again at his touch.
you continued to look out into the skyline. “i was going to say the same for you.”
“i’m really thankful for the party, love,” he ignored your question and pressed a kiss against your temple.
you mumbled under your breath, “it wasn’t easy." this was the first time all night that you were comfortable enough to physically touch jungkook and you suspected alcohol played a role in relieving the tension between you two, but it was always going to be easy to fall right back into routine.
and just like that, you felt a stinging sensation in your eyes. tears welled up and blurred your vision, which only made you turn your head away further from your boyfriend. he caught this immediately, his instincts nothing but natural when it came to you, and pulled you right into his chest.
the sound that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like you. the sob was desperate and helpless. it was akin to a toddler who couldn’t do anything by themselves. your voice cracked with each body-shaking sob and you didn’t have the guts to conceal it. your head was buried into jungkook’s new shirt, ruining it, but he only stroked your hair and wrapped the blanket tighter around the two of you.
“it’s okay. . .” jungkook cooed and for what seemed like the first time in a while, he sounded like himself.
it wasn’t like jungkook had undergone a drastic change from his time in america, but it was a gradual shift that you felt over a longer period of time. you attributed to the fact that you were no longer teenagers and things weren’t going to be the same as it did ten, even five years ago. that was what you told yourself, but you weren’t sure why you still held on to the old jungkook you knew.
in that moment, he sounded like the fifteen year old boy you met in a convenience store again. he sounded like the jungkook who wrote you disgusting love songs that were horrible, but you adored anyway. he sounded like the man who you talked about children and a big house and an annoying dog with.
as you found the bravery to finally pull away from jungkook’s comforting embrace, you looked up and saw that future in his eyes. his features softened, but he looked sad. your heart sank once again.
“you’re not just crying because i’m enlisting, are you?” he finally spoke, just above a whisper. his tone was certain, barely a question - after ten years together, jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.
you froze. there was nothing else you could do but shut your eyes tight, pretending that this wasn’t really happening.
after a beat, you found your voice. “listen. . .we both know what happens after a man enlists. look at taehyung and jimin. look at your cousin.”
over the years, you and jungkook had gone through hell and back. you thought the worst day of your life was when dispatch leaked the news that you were dating five years ago, but you were able to recover. you thought it was the worst day of your life when your breakup was witnessed by the entire world, but you were able to recover. you even thought the worst day of your life was when word got out that you and jungkook got back together, effectively proving that you were weak and were the type of girl to crawl back to her ex. you recovered then, as well.
at the second part of your sentence, you felt jungkook physically tense up.
“is that why you’ve been acting weird lately?” he replied.
you don’t know where it came from, but something triggered a spark of anger in you. still, with a tear stained face and a runny nose, you opened your eyes and met his. this was not something you would be able to recover from.
you said, “it hasn’t just been lately, jungkook. you know exactly what’s on my mind, we’ve been talking - “
“ - and you know what my answer has been, baby. you know what kind of position i’m in,” he interrupted, breaking apart from your hold and the blanket he brought for you.
he wasn’t wrong. you did know what kind of position he was in. one of the biggest stars in the world and he had everything to lose, especially with the anxieties looming in the air for him and the rest of his group. every one of them were on their toes as soon as their enlistment dates were finalized, fearing their fade from the spotlight. you and the rest of the world knew that it was bullshit, that the bts was going to be forgotten just because they were going into the military for a few years.
marriage would surely ruin that further, right?
you said, “and you know what position i’m in.”
the careless joys of your early twenties had come and gone, which left you at the mercy of your mother’s constant talks about marriage. not just her, but other family members and even some of your friends. after all, you and jungkook had been together for ten years and you were pushing thirty sooner or later.
you also had your own fears in regard to your career. jungkook once laughed when you expressed your worries about the public no longer finding you young and pretty, but it was a real fear. most girl groups didn’t last more than a few years. many of your contemporaries had long said goodbye to their idol persona and went their separate ways from their band for a new life. you were considered a lucky one to remain with your group and maintain relevance, but for how long? was it time for you to finally settle down? you weren’t granted the same longevity as jungkook’s renowned group and you weren’t bitter about it, but nervous.
snowflakes began to fall once again and as one fell on your eyelashes, you noticed jungkook’s jaw clench.
“we’ve talked about this,” he said and you knew your wandering thoughts about a potential proposal were too good to be true.
you began, “look, i know that things are different for people like us. . “ but, things were changing. in recent years, you watched several of your peers get married and have children without losing their spot in the limelight.
“y/n. . .what made you think i changed my mind?” jungkook sighed, pacing back and forth to calm himself down.
“i just thought. . .”
“i’m sorry, but i wasn’t going to propose before my enlistment.” this time, jungkook’s frustrations melted away and there was genuine sadness in his voice.
he stepped closer to you and put his hands on your waist. you didn’t know what to say. you really had been pretending that his strange behaviour was because of a hope that seemed impossible now.
you took a deep breath. “you never said no. you made it seem like you were considering it.”
that was what silenced jungkook. it was true, there was never an outright refusal from jungkook. he would say things that implied he would talk to his company again or “with time” it would come. he gave you just enough reassurance, but never confirmation.
continuing, you said, “and you even indulged in keeping the fantasy alive with me. you’re sick for talking about honeymoon destinations with me and suggesting songs we could dance to.”
“hey. i’ve said time ands time again that there is no future where you aren’t by my side,” jungkook tried getting you to look at him, but every time he moved, you turned away.
there was no reason for you to make eye contact. you felt like a fool and if you met his eyes, you knew you would just burst into tears again. then, you thought about your conversation earlier with your friends and your vision became wet again.
“were you planning to break up with me before you enlisted?”
“what? no,” he responded, but you weren’t convinced.
you responded, “it was going to be inevitable, wasn’t it? like jimin and taehyung. you were going to be done with me.”
this time, jungkook forced you to look at him by the chin and your shoulders dropped. there was a crease in between his eyebrows that you don’t remember seeing even just a year ago. he looked more tired than he did as a rookie with barely survivable living standards.
“time really goes by, huh?” you murmured, fighting to keep your voice stable.
“we were never going to break up, love,” jungkook maintained.
still, his words didn’t penetrate further than surface level. you were left numb and the chill of winter in seoul had nothing to do with it. you wished that someone would just call jungkook away, but the party inside continued on without him.
“you bought a ring. i saw it when we video called.”
jungkook’s lips parted. you knew it. you knew you weren’t losing your mind. over the last ten years, you made some crazy accusations for all kinds of reasons. this time was different and you saw it on his face.
even after what seemed like forever, jungkook couldn’t find words to say. the longer he waited to speak, the faster your heart began to race.
he rubbed his temples and finally, he spoke. jungkook spoke and you immediately dropped the blanket he brought for you, dashing right back inside. you walked past every single attendee and ignored the few that cried out your name. you didn’t care what it looked like. you just knew you had to get out of there.
jungkook said there was a ring. he began to open his mouth and explain further, especially when he read the horrified expression on your face, but you wanted no part in it. there was no room for you to think about what that meant. you only saw red.
you weren’t sure why you wanted a proposal so badly. you knew you didn’t care that much about what your mother wanted and getting married was no solution to the prospects of a dying career. you were second guessing if your wishes for a wedding were even genuine.
on the other hand, maybe you intended for the wedding to be a solution to a dying relationship.
LATEST NEWS: hybe dismisses reports that bts’ jungkook and S.IREN’s nova are engaged, seeking legal action against gossip website that went viral for spreading the false rumour
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#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagines#jungkook scenarios#jungkook angst#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x oc#jungkook fluff#jungkook drabble#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#bts au#jungkook au
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Speaking of; The Owl House's pitch bible got leaked as well! So while I look for the rest of it, let’s examine some interesting tidbits I found on Proto-Belos, or 'Obron' as he was once known, and William AKA Proto-Hunter!
Can I just say, I'm quite smug to know that Belos resurrecting the Titan as his endgame was always the original plan? I called it from the start! It was also kinda obvious, but c'mon. The Bionicle fan in me was obsessed.
I'm not surprised about the mentions of Pupa, or the name Obron or even the appearance; We've actually seen all of this before! But what does make me curious is the mention of two other councilors... So there's supposed to be a trio? Again, I always bring up the three statue motif in my speculation about the original plans of the show, I wonder if there's any connection there. Would Kikimora have been one of the other councilors, and who would've been the third? And it seems the coven system was always a thing, early on at least.
Yeah, the mention of '500 years' and the connection to William, etc. Even as Obron he was supposed to have been a human witch hunter turned actual witch. Comparing this to the pilot we got, it may not be Obron that the characters are referring to, since he's not the Emperor. But maybe he declared himself Emperor since he was basically the only one in charge by that point.
Makes me wonder if he hates humans under the delusion of 'I hate modern humans'. He hates what humanity has become and he's taking out his anger on modern humans; We also know the main reason he wants Luz in the pilot, to awaken the Titan. I presume Obron preserved William in stasis and hid him away, only for Luz to wake him up earlier than intended. I can imagine the scene/episode where Obron realizes William has been awake and roaming about for a while now...
There's the confirmation that Prince William and Hunter are the same character, or were. As I guessed, his witch-hunting tendencies would've been established early on as a strange gag, a quirk, only to become so much more darkly significant. I wonder if in this draft, Obron's past as a witch hunter also has relevance; Does he think he's 'saving' humanity by using the Titan to conquer both worlds, wiping out the denizens of one? Also him being a feral kid subsisting off of food given to him by friends is such Labyrinth Runners vibes. Was William always going to have his dynamic with Willow, given Luz plays a bigger role in him opening his mind?
Given we had a 'proof of concept' animation leaked a while back, I wonder if that was an even earlier draft to the pitch bible, given William is PRINCE William. Maybe he's meant to be an actual European human, because European bigotry towards witches existed back then I think, even if it wasn't as pronounced. And Obron does bear a resemblance to one of the Proto-Belos designs, though I'm not sure which came first.
…Huh. Would William have been Obron’s nephew or. God. Would he have been his brother. And while William never grew up because magical stasis, Obron did and now sees his brother be the exact same but also change. Man. And William just has to reconcile, when he gets his memories back, the jump from his brother, a kid like him, to Obron. So we still got the desperate attempt to preserve his brother, only for his brother/Hunter to ‘betray’ him.
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Careless
Summary: Part 2 of Thoughtful.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader
Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Fluff. Angst. Tony being kind of an asshole. Bucky's self-deprecating thoughts. Reader being dumb.
Word Count: 1K
A/N: I keep having no idea what this is, I have no endgame but I hope you enjoy!
Masterlist
Part 1
Stark parties are a hassle. Tony always insists on the team dressing up, cocktail dresses, tuxedos and all that.
So that’s why you’re all dolled up right now, a black sparkly floor-length gown that highlights your curves perfectly with a slit that goes up your left thigh with black stilettos, your hair curled perfectly and your make-up on point thanks to Natasha and Wanda, gold hoop earrings finishing the ensemble.
The only thing that looks like it doesn’t belong on your right now are Bucky’s dog tags hanging from your neck.
Things with Bucky have been going relatively good, you’re not really dating but neither of you let a moment pass without trying to flirt with each other. You enjoy the attention he only gives you and he enjoys making you flustered.
You’ve even managed to make him blush himself a few times.
You haven’t taken his dog tags off since that morning Bucky put them on you, and that’s not gone unnoticed by the team who have had a field day teasing you about it. Just never enough to bother you and make you want to take them off.
Until now.
“Come on, they look so out of place!” Tony says while chuckling as you roll your eyes, drink in hand while you stand in the middle of the party while talking with Tony, Scott and Maria.
“Leave her alone, Stark.” Maria comes to your defense and you give her a grateful smile. All the girls think it’s adorable that you wear Bucky’s tags.
“He’s not wrong, though.” Scott chimes in. “That’s a beautiful get up, but the tags stand out, and not in a good way.”
Anyone else, you’d be creeped out, but you know Scott is in a happy relationship with Hope and he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s more of a girlfriend at this point.
“I don’t care.” You say simply, sipping your drink. “I like them, and I’m not taking them off.”
“You haven’t taken them off in weeks.” Tony points out, a dangerous smirk starting to grow on his face. “Could it have anything to do with the particular soldier that gave them to you?”
You roll your eyes, knowing where Tony’s going with this because he’s gone there countless times now.
“It has nothing to do with Bucky, I just like them.” You say causally.
“You like him.” Tony says childishly while the other two snicker at your groan. “Maybe you even love him.”
You scoff and almost glare at Tony. “I don’t love him.”
“Then prove it.” Tony says without missing a beat. Obviously he has you exactly where he wants you. “Take them off.”
“What would that even prove?” You roll your eyes again.
“Prove to me that they don’t mean as much to you as I think they do. Take them off.” He keeps grinning at you, challenging you.
“You’re a child.” You say simply, having no intention to accept this silly challenge.
“Yes, I am.” He says and all four of you chuckle, before Tony takes it one step further. “Take them off for a week and I’ll give you ten thousand dollars.”
You give him an unimpressed look. It’s not a surprise, Tony’s known to do this kind of thing all the time. He once bet Sam twenty thousand dollars if he went streaking for at least 4 blocks around the tower.
His ‘falcon’ was on the paper the next day.
“Come on, if you’re so sure I’m wrong, why not make some money off my arrogance.” Tony says with a smirk when you narrow your eyes at him, he knows you’re considering it.
“Fine.” You say after a pause. You hesitantly take the tags off and put them on Tony’s outstretched hand. It’s only a week and it doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky saw the whole thing from a distance. And it meant plenty to him.
He couldn’t hear what you were saying even with his enhanced hearing because you were far away and the party noise was almost deafening, but Bucky saw you clearly as you took off his tags and gave them to Tony.
To Tony.
Did they not mean as much to you as they did to him? Was this whole thing just a joke to you? Was he making a fool out of himself thinking you liked him as much as he liked you? Maybe you just liked the attention. Maybe you were fucking with him, having fun at his expense because he convinced himself you like him, because how could he even think someone like you actually likes him? Maybe you’ve been laughing behind his back while he’s been falling for yo-
“Hey, Sergeant Grumpy.” His thoughts are interrupted by your playful voice that just a minute ago was the single greatest sound that he wanted as the soundtrack of his existence for the rest of his life.
But right now, it’s making his nostrils flare with barely contained anger while he almost glares at you.
You think nothing of it, convincing yourself that maybe the party is making him anxious like it usually does. After all, Bucky doesn’t do good with strangers.
Or maybe Sam has been getting on his nerves more than usual tonight. Whatever it is, you want to make him feel better.
So you wrap your hand around the tie of his suit and pull him towards you a little, copying the move he’s now done countless times with his dog tags around your neck.
“You wanna hear something funny?” You ask playfully, wanting to tell him about the bet you just made with Tony and thinking Bucky will get a kick out of it and it’ll take his mind off of whatever has him in a bad mood.
But you get no chance to say anything more since he takes your hand away from his tie.
“Leave me alone.” He says with a harsh tone you’ve never heard him use towards anyone, let alone you. “Forever.”
That said, he walks off and out of the room in the direction of his quarters without giving you a second glance, leaving you to look after him, too dumbfounded as your mind tries to play catch-up.
What the hell just happened?
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my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue
just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺
warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him
you did it without thinking.
it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.
rafe.
the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you.
this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.
you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.
but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.
except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again.
your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?
and if he isn’t?
there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already.
you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.
you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.
holy fuck.
your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.
what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago.
for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.
should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.
“i can hear you breathing.”
panic sets in.
summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there.
you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”
his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones.
“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”
you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?
“i didn’t run?”
his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”
the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?
“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“
“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.
you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.
“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”
his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.
“hey, sweetheart, this is me.” his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”
but he’s not your rafe anymore.
that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him.
a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.
"yeah..."
rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”
if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.
you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view.
you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.
"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“
rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal.
"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”
“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“
his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”
tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."
“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.
“it was! i’m a shitty person.”
his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”
“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”
the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.
he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.
you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.”
rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”
without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.
“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”
“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”
you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.
“i have a date.”
a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations.
rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”
but you only sob harder.
"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”
but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe.
"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”
but you are. at you. at him.
the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.
you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.
"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"
it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.
rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”
“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”
his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.
"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed.
you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.
"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."
but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.
"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."
you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them.
it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing.
“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”
it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.
and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.
“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”
for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say.
and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.
“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”
his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”
“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”
and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.
and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fluff#rafe angst#rafe cameron angst#rafe x reader#rafe fic#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x kook!reader#obx rafe cameron
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toasty
sometimes, it isn't just the weather which is comfortably warm.
sometimes, it can be one person, because of another person, as well.
gojo satoru x fem!reader; pre-relationship; gojo is a menace; you're a miniature circuit breaker; gojo calls you 'cookie'; mentions of food; i repeat: gojo is a MENACE; 610 wc; *empties a big container labelled 'fluff' into this fic*
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be treated as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
divider by @/benkeibear; pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this; jjk isn't mine
"do you like that dress?"
you shouldn't look this surprised, no. hell no.
you know gojo's been sitting beside you for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. and you know he has a rather sharp set of eyes, with or without his 'six eyes' activated— yet you do look surprised. terribly so— and the man wonders, what made you think he would not notice you staring at the bright piece of cloth in the shop window.
particularly when you've left your favourite ice cream on the brink of melting and falling on your uniform— not that it'll make it any dirtier though; the curses from before have done a splendid job of it...
stealing a bite from your cone, gojo plops back into his seat. the grin threatening to bloom on his lips wilts when he sees the surprise turn into something shocked, maybe even scandalised in your features— eyes wider, brows higher, lower jaw hanging lower...
he lets the grin form anyway. "what? your ice cream was melting— i cannot let the money i spent to buy it, go to waste now, can i?"
you snap your mouth close in less than an instant. then open it again to take quite a large bite from your ice cream, brows scrunching and eyes screwing close— the brain freeze gojo was in wait for, for you to suffer from, never comes.
you take a second bite, even bigger.
some part of him shrivels, disappointed— before it swells up again, at the narrowed-eye look you send his way— before it dries up a second time, when your gaze returns to the dress from before.
the fabric looks extremely dull to the sorcerer now. he kicks your leg under the table. biting back a grin when you look back at him, lips in an annoyed little frown.
although it doesn't take too long to become a smile. tired, yes. but a fond one all the same— you've always been too soft to him, haven't you?
he repeats his ask, "do you like that dress?"
"i..." your gaze drops to your ice cream for a beat. then rises. a warmth settles into your cheeks, visible and adorable. "i kind of like that dress. it looks pretty." a beat. your lips part in a tentative smile. "what do you think, gojo-san? will i look good in it?"
the addressed man pauses.
but it is not because he has to decide on an answer— the answer is a yes. a resounding yes— still, he doesn't find the voice to say the word, the monosyllable repeated over and over and over again in his brain—
"you always look beautiful to me, cookie. no matter what you wear."
the shocked, scandalised expression makes a return to your face, not a moment later than when the words leave his mouth.
only to be shoved away when you attempt to take such a huge bite of your melting ice cream, the chocolate chip treat ends up caking a big portion of the lower half of your face— from your nose and extending till your chin.
gojo doesn't bother to hold back his laughter this time— its loudness increasing at the resulting wrinkle in your nose when he reaches over to scoop up a bit of the mess with his fingers, then licks it off them—
"you're a disgusting man," you mutter, voice so mortified and frail as your gaze keeps jumping from his hand to his blindfolded eyes.
something curls up inside the sorcerer. the sensation growing worse, growing better, the longer he stares at this precious little face you've made:
"and you're a cookie— my choco chip cookie!"
the reader is an mcb— reasons for which, i hope, u all hv understood by now 🤭🤭
masterlist
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru x reader#satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#kit posts 📝
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Dating Lyney
Day #1 of writing for my beloved in an attempt to coerce him into showing up early. Come home, my little magician, I need you!
Please feel free to send me requests for what you want to see next!
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Character: Lyney
Warnings: Fluff, magic. Some mild spoilers for the Fontaine archon quest.
Note: Some people consider Lyney to be a minor, so keep in mind that he's 18+ in this, even though there's no NSFW.
So you wanna date the rizzler huh? You'd better be prepared, because he's the world's biggest flirt. It literally never stops, no matter if you've been together five weeks or five years. He's always going to have something suave to say, always going to keep surprising you with little magic tricks. It's just how he is, especially when he's passionate about something - or someone. You'd best be ready to hear him say he loves you twenty times a day, and you'd better say it back, too, or else he'll get that adorable pout on his face and hit you with the puppy dog eyes. Sometimes you wonder if the man has a serious bone in his entire body or if Lynette inherited them all, but you know him better than that.
Lyney is such a gentleman. He's ridiculously charismatic, but he's also so, so sweet. He'll do anything and everything for you. He pulls out chairs for you, holds your hand while walking - you'll definitely have to stop him from draping his cape across puddles for you like they do in the movies. It's a little cheesy, sure, but it's so endearing with that sweet, lovesick smile on his face, and you can't help but love him more for it.
He's a very observant person. It just comes with the territory. He's trained himself to pick up on the subtlest little details, and while this primarily applies to magic and his work, but it also applies very heavily to you. He notices everything about you, from what you order at restaurants you go to on dates to what color clothing you prefer to wear to the way your tone and expression naturally shift as you talk about different topics. He memorizes you, so much so that he'll surprise you with things you've mentioned once in his presence, or perhaps not at all - he's quite good at putting pieces together and figuring out things behind the scenes, after all. You once asked him if he had the ability to read your mind after he pulled a slice of your favorite cake out of his hat, and he merely laughed and replied, "a magician never reveals his secrets, my dear~"
Speaking of which, his laugh is one of your favorite sounds in the whole world. The little chuckles and laughs peppered throughout his speech are lovely, of course, but you know they're mostly part of the show he plays for the audience. Your true favorite is the way he laughs when you're alone with him, when you say or do something funny or catch him off guard. There's something so magical about it, like you're getting a private glimpse of his beautiful soul. One of your favorite memories is when you got him to laugh so hard he could barely breathe, a genuine smile stretched across his face and a delightful sparkle in his eyes.
During the early part of your relationship, he's very guarded and secretive, despite his open and outgoing persona. Depending on your thoughts about the organization, he might attempt to hide being a Fatuus from you, just because he's terrified of your reaction. He puts a lot of effort into appearing absolutely perfect, because he believes you deserve nothing less than perfection. Even if he is honest about his work, he holds back his innermost feelings and desires for quite some time, continuing to play the part that is required of him. He cares dearly about you, and he's not about to let you go because of a careless misstep on his part.
It takes him some time before he learns to be vulnerable with you. He's so convinced that he always has to be perfect, that he has to be strong for his siblings and for you, and he doesn't allow himself to show any of the negative emotions that haunt him day after day. Slowly but surely, however, you will break that wall down - brick by brick, if you must. He begins to lower his guard when you are alone, to let the mask slip and show his true feelings, even if they aren't glamorous, even if he hates them. Once he trusts you enough to show you the truth that he hides from even his siblings, your relationship grows even closer.
Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open!
Tag List 🐝 @mossmosis
#beefriend-writes#genshin lyney#lyney x reader#genshin impact#hi mossy#come home Lyney#I'm literally begging you
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a little less sixteen candles
Something I wrote for Sloane's birthday (April 28th, 1875). I didn't anticipate it being so bittersweet, but that's what happens when your MC's birthday coincides with the end-game events....
(art by puri.dew)
SWF | 2.6k words
[read on Ao3] | [read on wattpad] | [tumblr masterpost]
It's spring—late April, to be exact. Flowers bloom all over the Scottish Highlands, and students take advantage of the warmer weather to spend their afternoons and evenings outdoors. Most travel to Hogsmeade and the surrounding hamlets, some take to the Quidditch pitch, and others lounge in the courtyards to daydream and watch the clouds pass by.
Instead of enjoying the beauty of nature or spending quality time with his friends, Sebastian is holed up in the Undercroft, scribbling notes on a blackboard with the last nub of chalk. On the table nearby, several textbooks and dusty tombs are spread open, their margins littered with more of his scrawl. He dusts his fingers off, smearing white across his pant leg before grabbing a quill to hunch over the latest pilfering from the Restricted Section.
Curses, Curses, and Even More Curses
It is an encyclopedia of sorts, one Sebastian found tucked away in some dark corner of the library's basement, being used to prop up a wobbly cabinet. The book smells like it has been fermenting in the lake and is icy cold to the touch, but the few pages that remain legible offer more information than he's been able to gleam in recent months. Despite having Salazar Slytherin's spellbook, it has taken considerable effort and time to translate, and even then the ancient writings refer to artifacts and magic Sebastian is just barely starting to comprehend.
He is reading a particularly interesting passage about blood sacrifices when he realizes he is no longer alone. Ominis stands on the other side of the table, eyebrows bunched together and lips pursed in an everlasting state of dissatisfaction. When the bloody hell did he sneak in?
"I won't bother with asking what it is you are doing, as I have no interest in arguing with you this evening."
"Lucky me," Sebastian quips back. Their friendship has been strained ever since Anne's curse, the relationship gradually turning into something far more toxic. But the fear of losing one of his best and only friends is overshadowed by the deep dread that consumes Sebastian every day—he will not let Anne die.
He attempts to refocus his attention to the yellowed pages of the old tome. "It must be a special occasion, if you're letting me off so easily."
"Now that you mention it," Ominis replies, sardonically.
When he doesn't elaborate, Sebastian glances up and finds himself curious for a new reason. His friend is dressed up, or rather, dressed down, in a neat but casual ensemble that is so uncharacteristic it might as well be a prank. Since when did Ominis walk around in anything less than his school uniform?
"Today is a special occasion," Ominis finally clarifies, though his tone makes it obvious he is teasing Sebastian for the gap in knowledge.
"Uh..."
What day is it? He wonders, furrowing his brow in thought. Tuesday? What important event occurs on a Tuesday other than...potions? No, he attended class that morning, even if he cannot recall the details of Professor Sharp's lecture. Crossed Wands? That isn't until Friday. All Sebastian really remembers from the last twelve hours is bartering with the kitchen-elves for leftovers after missing dinner, again. That, and being shooed away from the library by Madam Scribner, again.
The prolonged silence causes Ominis to scoff, more irritated than before. "Seriously, Sebastian?" he snaps, shaking his head. "Do you really not remember? Ugh, why am I even surprised? I only came down here to confirm for myself that you truly are lost."
"I am not—"
"Shut up," Ominis cuts him off with a pointed look that is a tad more menacing than usual. "After all she did to remind us—you—" he sighs, temper simmering. "Siobhan did well to hide her disappointment, but even I could tell by the sound of her voice she was upset by your absence."
"Sloane?" Sebastian blinks several times as the realization dawns on him. Tuesday. The twenty-eighth day of April.
Today is Sloane's birthday.
He drops the book and threads his hands through his hair in exasperation, cursing under his breath, "shit."
"It is remarkable, really, the patience that girl has," Ominis remarks, ignoring the way Sebastian starts to frantically pace. "More than I posses, at least. I do not know the details, nor do I wish to, but it is a small miracle she considers you a friend, for all you have put her through."
Sebastian pauses to glare at his friend, almost daring him to repeat the snide comment. What the hell does he know? But, for what seems like the millionth time in five years, Ominis is right. In his pursuit for a cure, he is slowly alienating the people he cares about. Sloane is a recent addition to his inner circle, though sometimes it feels as if she's been there all along. His feelings for the Hufflepuff are...complicated, to put it mildly. Sebastian knows he likes her, perhaps more than he's ever liked a member of the opposite sex. However, inexperience and denial leave him unwilling to call it love.
He lets out a pitiful groan, palms pressed hard against his eyes.
"I can't believe I forgot!" The memory of Sloane inviting them to a small celebration in Hogsmeade crashes into view, adding to his shame. He's been so wrapped up in research and schoolwork that it slipped his mind. "Merlin's beard—I'm an arse!"
"Yes," Ominis flatly agrees, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Good thing wallowing in self-pity solves everything."
Sebastian frowns, his gut twisting with regret, frustrated by his own preoccupation. The spread of journals and scribbled notes seem to taunt him, his head and heart torn between obligation and desire. He returns to pacing, murmuring incoherently as his brain tries to prioritize what the first step should be. Bathe? No time. He unceremoniously sniffs under his arm and winces—a cleaning charm will have to suffice.
"Is she still in Hogsmeade?" he asks, allowing some hope to flourish when Ominis nods. "Do you think...she'll forgive me?"
"She shouldn't," Ominis says, sighing again. He shakes his head, almost as if he is humored by Sebastian's enthusiasm. "But she will."
Sebastian allows himself thirty minutes to get to the Three Broomsticks. It's still early, but Sloane and her friends have already been celebrating in Hogsmeade for most of the afternoon. Better late than never, right? After fixing his appearance as best he can in the nearest washroom, he rushes to the kitchens and haggles with the kitchen-elves for the second time that day, this time for pastries so he doesn't show up completely empty handed. He will need to procure a proper gift when his mind isn't so rattled.
By the time Sebastian exits the great hall, the sun is just setting beyond the horizon. It's warm, and as he speed-walks across the viaduct courtyard, sweat forms on his brow and neck and elsewhere he does not want to think about. Knowing his luck, he'll be a perspiring, smelly mess by the time he makes it to Hogsmeade. How attractive, he mumbles to himself, checking over his clothing again to make sure he's properly buttoned and tucked and—
"Sebastian?"
He freezes mid-step, snapping his gaze up to find Sloane and two of her Hufflepuff roommates—Poppy Sweeting and Lenora Everleigh—standing at the top of the stone steps. Sebastian opens his mouth to speak, but his short-circuiting brain won't allow a coherent sentence to form.
Eventually, he squeaks, "me."
Poppy and Lenora giggle while Sloane's lips curl into a sympathetic smile. All Sebastian can focus on is the pale pink of her dress and the way the curve of her neck and collarbone are exposed, making it that much more difficult to speak. Her cropped hair has a slight curl to the ends, and...is that rouge on her cheeks? He's never seen her look so...
"Wow," he breathes, perfectly aware of how lopsided his grin must look. Sebastian straightens up a little, clutching the small, wrapped box of baked goods in his hands. He lets out a shaky laugh. "I was...just coming to find you, actually."
"You were?" Sloane's eyes widen in surprise—is his presence that startling? He tries not to frown at the gut-wrenching realization that she didn't expect him to show up at all. When her friends don't budge to give them any privacy, he reaches up to tug at the knot of his tie, the suffocating feeling lingering as they stare down at him. Sebastian feels like he might faint, or retch, or both.
"Sloane, I—"
"Oh, this'll be rich," Lenora mutters, rolling her eyes. The dark-haired Hufflepuff is consistently disapproving of his relationship with Sloane, though he can't imagine why. Or maybe he can.
Poppy hushes her and the three return to holding similar, expectant expressions. Sebastian clears his throat.
"I—I'm an absolute git for forgetting your birthday," he starts, hoping he sounds as earnest as he feels. Multiple excuses tickle the tip of his tongue but he knows better in that moment than to offer any. This is his fault, his burden to bear. "I'm so sorry, sorrier than you can imagine."
"That's what he said last time, isn't it?" Lenora mumbles.
If Sebastian isn't trying so desperately to look forlorn, he would glare at her. Now's not the time for a reminder of how he's unintentionally, or perhaps intentionally hurt Sloane. For all the mistakes he's made, she has forgiven him time and time again, and everyone in their circle has noticed. Regardless of how much he wants it, maybe he is undeserving of her grace. Maybe the best gift he can give is to cut himself out of her life for good—one less burden for her to worry about in an already chaotic first—fifth—year.
His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach and his hopeful smile falls into a dejected pout. Before Sebastian can fully spiral into another pity-party of one, he flicks his gaze back to Sloane and decides that surrender simply isn't in his nature.
"Can we talk?" he softly asks. He'll beg if he has to, even at the risk of making an even bigger arse of himself in front of Sloane and her friends. "Please?"
Even though Lenora and Poppy are hesitant to let Sloane go, she waves away their worried whispers and nods. "Okay."
While her friends reluctantly head back towards the castle, Sebastian and Sloane find their way to the boathouse, the long walk accented by their echoing footsteps and sideways glances. More than once he thinks about reaching out to hold her hand but refrains, not wanting to further muddle their already shaky friendship. Sloane surprises him when they reach the pier, balancing herself against the wall so she can discard her heeled loafers and stockings. She perches herself on the dock's edge, bare feet just barely grazing the dark lake waters. Sebastian follows suit, tugging off his boots and socks before sitting down next to her, making sure there's a comfortable distance between them.
Before he can find the courage, Sloane breaks the more than awkward silence, "what do you want to talk about?"
It's an innocent enough question, one that puts control of the conversation in his hands. Sebastian could easily take the cowardly route and skip past an apology, force some laughter and pretend nothing is wrong. Instead, he digs deep and swallows his pride.
"I really am sorry, Sloane," he starts, finding it nearly impossible to look at her directly when it feels like his heart might burst out from his chest. All the regret he's been carrying rises to the surface. "I've had so many chances to make things right between us and I've mucked them up over and over again that I honestly can't fathom why you give me any of your time at all."
"You are..." he trails off in hesitation, remembering that a little bit of vulnerability can go a long way. "You are one of the better aspects of my life. One of the kindest, if not the kindest person I know. And...while we haven't been friends for very long, I'm bloody well terrified of losing you over my own stupidity."
Sloane flashes him a curious look. "Losing me?"
"You know what I mean," he quickly replies, even if he is still figuring it out himself. Or maybe he is too scared to admit the truth. The last thing he wants to do is push his luck when it has already run dry. They are friends—it is selfish to hope for more. The uncomfortable tightness in his throat returns. "Am I...too late?"
For a moment that feels like eternity to a fragile boy like him, Sloane doesn't respond, her gaze focused on the water and the reflection of the moon. Her pensive expression is impossible to read, but he takes it as a good sign that she hasn't run off or shoved him into the lake for the squid to drown. She sighs and slowly turns her head to look at him again.
"You're here now is what matters," she says, lips twitching up into the faintest smile. Sebastian should feel relieved, but the guilt lingers. Perhaps in an effort to change the subject, Sloane gestures to the small box, partially crumpled by his anxious fidgeting. "Is that...?"
"Oh! Right," he hesitantly hands it over, watching as Sloane lifts the lid to reveal several squished lemon tarts. He rubs the back of his neck as he lets out a self-deprecating laugh in an attempt to save face. "They're meant to look like that. It's an after-hours kitchen specialty, I'm told."
Sloane's smile widens slightly as she plucks one from the box, generously handing it to him before taking one for herself. Emboldened, Sebastian quickly conjures a small candle to press into her share and carefully ignites the wick.
"I already made a wish," she explains.
Sebastian isn't discouraged. "Well, now you can make a second one. Happy birthday, Sloane."
He continues to watch her as she momentarily ponders, the flickering flame reflected in her eyes before she softly extinguishes it with a soft breath.
"What did you wish for?"
"The first or second time?" Sloane responds, somewhat cheekily.
Sebastian doesn't push her to offer a real answer and instead allows for a comfortable silence to settle between them as they nibble at the lemony treats. The lake water gently splashes at their hanging feet and for the first time in recent memory, he feels calm. It might be temporary, but he allows himself to sink into the feeling, smiling as Sloane offers him a second tart.
"Sebastian?"
"Hmm?"
He turns his head just in time, barely registering what is happening as Sloane moves closer with her head tilted just so. Her lips meet his and Sebastian is stunned, taking several rapid heartbeats to react, fluttering his eyes shut as he leans into the kiss. If he knew that her lips would be this soft and warm, he would've kissed her ages ago. As greedy as he is to taste more, he allows the kiss to remain chaste, inching his hand across the short distance to cover hers.
Sloane eventually pulls away and when he peeks open his eyes she is smiling, cheeks dusted with a blush he yearns to brighten. Sebastian is still too flabbergasted to utter a response, nervously laughing when she reaches up to brush away a crumb from his cheek. He catches her hand before she can pull away, squeezing her fingers in his own. The momentary calm of his heart explodes into a burning inferno he struggles to contain. This time, he is sure he knows the answer, but still asks.
"Your wish?"
"It already came true."
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow x f!mc#sebastian sallow x mc#fanfic#sebastian sallow fanfic#hufflepuff oc
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Blackwater XIX
Raiting: 18+
Warnings: well I said a couple of months ago that something was toxic… there’s a lil bit of non-con this time, so if someone of you is not ready, im sorry, is that chap.
A/N: this chapter wasn't very easy to write, but the next ones won't be either, let's wish each other good luck.
She had hoped to go somewhere else, but with problems piling up day after day doing so wasn't even an option. It was safer to stay south, where their reservation still acted as a natural stop to any external influence coming from across the border, plus Roman was in the area, though again not there with her, having yet another meeting with yet another person for yet another deal.
She hadn't been very happy about it at first, but had to admit at least to herself that maybe it was for the best. In town she had finally found something she could bring to Lisa to thank her and plus they were relatively close home, which meant they would be there before night and she could go to bed to recover a bit.
The stress caused by the situation did not help either her mood or body already affected by hormonal swings of a heat that Y/N prayed to postpone as long as possible. She wasn't sleeping well due to too many thoughts, she was losing her appetite, as well as the desire to go running and that afternoon she had another one of her waves of shivers which was trying to fight with some hot chocolate in an attempt to also replenish a sugars. She had bought Solo a coffee too, but he kept holding it in his hand without drinking, too busy glaring at anyone who dared come closer than necessary, that was not even so close.
- You didn't grow up here, did you? – she asked, interrupting silence between them once again, because they spent a lot of time together, but even if he seemed willing to talk with her, their conversations were never long.
He looked at her a bit confused, putting aside his perpetual serious face for a moment, coffee still in his hand.
- Jimmy said you came here after, like me – she explained, letting out an encouraging smile and he shook his head no.
- I grew up in the area, with my family.
Y/N let out a surprised oh, going back to twirling the straw in silence as they walked towards the suv.
From the stories she had thought he had come from out of state to help Roman, but she probably misunderstood. She hadn't spent much time with Solo's family, she had only seen them once actually and he didn't open up more than necessary, most of the time talking about what there was to do during the day, well she talked, he was more comfortable listening.
- Not with them. They were always together somewhere. – he added unexpectedly, perhaps not to make her uncomfortable with another silence or perhaps not to make her feel so out of place and Y/N smiled gratefully.
Y/N saw him nod slightly, as if satisfying her had satisfied him too.
She had never really thought about it, but there was an age gap between him and those three. Now he was a big boy with muscles and a menacing look, in those years he had probably just been a kid that them didn't want around. She couldn't imagine what it was like, Y/N hadn't had any brother or sister, she had grown up alone, but the half year spent with all of them before the chaos was enough for her to understand. Maybe he couldn't have tolerated them as a kid, always together already as pack leaving him at home and doing their own business, but now he was a man, it was different.
His family is broken.
- I'm sorry, Solo...
Standing next to the black suv, he looked at her, again confused by her reaction.
- We have to do what needs to be done.
- They're your brothers no matter what.
- I swore to the Tribal Chief. They did it too. – he said serious, his tone almost angry.
In packs like theirs, still tied to old laws and traditions, it was normal to have a relationship of deep respect with those at the top. Those were legacies that were now intertwined with a changed society but still subject to natural balances, such as the amendment on property rights between mates and social hierarchies for those who belonged to or were born from groups not commonly seen well. Y/N, with her omega smell, knew a lot about it and had had to deal with it there too in the first few months, but the prospect of an acknowledgment, oath, was new and something she hadn't heard.
She saw Solo open the door to let her in, his face less angry, but still solemn.
- You don't have to – he reassured her, mistaking her silence for concern, dark round eyes stopping too long lower, at the base between her neck and shoulder, where Y/N had tightened her jacket trying to send away the cold shivers – you already have his… smell.
Smell wasn't the word he wanted to say, but what Solo was referring to, she didn't have yet.
Our mark. His mark.
That too was an old legacy, dangerous in her case, but Y/N didn't have time to think too much about it by looking for her phone which in the meantime had notified of a message.
***
Paul was a smart man. Roman had chosen him as a wise man for that very reason. There was no one in the entire country more capable than him, no one who had his level of experience. He was a lawyer, an advisor, a connoisseur, he had political support, important acquaintances within the packs and outside, plus his family had practically adopted him when he was a boy, so he was not a stranger. The wise man was many things, but honest only when necessary and Roman had never had a problem with that kind of approach in their time together. He tolerated all sorts of expedient for his purpose, he had learned the hard way how much it cost to have feelings, but everything changed if those tricks helped something of which he was not made aware.
Because Roman knew from years and life lessons. Loyalty and trust were something he no longer expected, from anyone and certainly not from someone who had stayed afloat when everyone else drowned. Everyone could be a friend, everyone could be an enemy, his wolf now did no exception and all the whispers, phone calls and messages that kept Paul busy even when they were together were nothing but further proof of a picture that he knew. The wiseman acted driven by the feeling of ground crumbling beneath their feet, frightened by changes that his cousin and those dogs on the border threatened, by the possibility of a future that Roman would not allow as long as he was able to breathe. He loved the wise man, he could forgive him being a coward, pretending not to see, at least until he took a step too far.
- So? – he asked annoyed, almost making the phone fly out of his hand.
- Two weeks. Tomorrow both of you will exchange the sogi – he reported in a heavy voice, his shoulders low, his face frowning as if someone had just stepped on him after the news.
He didn't like the prospect of that fight, first of all because he was risking his head. Roman knew even without having to ask that he would play his cards to make things better and save everything, but for him the two weeks he had dealt were too much time and those plans useless. Fourteen days were the ritual time to provide what was necessary for families, so that both parties were ready for any outcome, but for him were just a useless wait. He wouldn't be the one to lose, he had no alternatives to plan unlike Jey, he just needed to have free way and get his hands on his cousin.
- About the stipulations, I was thinking- he advanced, trying to recover as much as possible.
- There are none.
- My Tribal Chief, if I may, considering what we are facing now, it would be better to leave a few more resources and perhaps-
- There will be no stipulations.
He had complied with stipulations, conditions for weeks, suffered weakness for months, the time for mercy was over. He had left many doors open for his cousins, he had tried everything and Jey however had gone where he shouldn't, disrespecting him to the point of contesting him with the Elders, they had gone too far and now there was only one way to put an end to it. The only acceptable stipulation was unconditional surrender, total humiliation, there was nothing else to talk about. Guts were needed to keep their family in line, his dad had reminded him of this and Roman was not willing to receive other reminders in the future, he was no longer a boy. Whatever happened next, he would handle it the way he handled everything, with a firm grip and without regard, he didn't need those two to do it. He was the alpha, he had control and winning cards to play against everyone.
- How much longer do we have to stay here? – he asked, tired of waiting, staring with annoyance at the watch on his wrist.
They had been in that office longer than he was willing to tolerate and he couldn't stand listening to the wise man calls or him typing messages anymore, he didn't have all day to waste signing a deal with the governor. He had to train, dedicate the next fourteen days focusing on the goal, not sitting bored in a chair waiting for a paper that should have already been ready the second he set foot in that building.
- I'm going to immediately check where Pearce has ended up, my… – the wise man snapped to attention, but he barely managed to turn to go towards the door – tribal… chief.
Roman smelled him before even moving his gaze to the man accompanying Pearce. He had no idea who he was, he didn't remember his face if they had ever met before, but he had a smell that he didn't like. He didn't like the smell of him, he didn't like the way was staring at him, he didn't like the attitude and he sure as hell didn't like that he came around when he had business to do.
We don't like him.
- Reigns.
Pearce greeted, already adjusting glasses on his nose, his expression stressed as always. Roman didn't even look at him, focused on observing the new arrival who was already taking place at the table without having been invited. Pearce had that same attitude in the past, a couple of years ago, until Roman had taken it away from him in his own way and since then had never reappeared. He almost wanted to do the same with that new guy.
- What’s this idea Mr. Pearce?! It was supposed to be a private meeting for private business! Very important business! It's unacceptable! – complained the wise man, standing up against that lack of respect.
- Our new neighbors have informed the governor of activities across the border. It seemed right to him to invite Mr. Aldis as a delegate to clarify before signing anything. He’s in charge of that area now.
That's what he was. Another puppet, another well-dressed small dude convinced to have power or a chance against him, thought he was worth something, that he could stand face to face with Roman, thanks to the talks of those idiots to whom his cousins had left the field free. They were becoming arrogant, stupidly brave, throwing in his face that he had lost his hold in the north and that now there were others there. They hadn't gone too far yet, keeping everything legal, moving with what they could to make their voices heard, their new influence known, but Roman was fine with those games as long as they didn't go beyond the limit. And the limit was his patience running out.
- Since you no longer have jurisdiction there and the upcoming Bloodline activities threaten the entire area, restrictions must be established for the future. Real restrictions Mr. Reigns that I will take care of enforcing and making clear to you. Without it, nothing new will be authorized. – the new dude, Aldis, announced, openly defying his influence, head held high and the wise man behind him jumped.
They wanted to authorize him.
- How dare you- he screamed, but Roman simply raised a finger to silence him, the other hand gripping the chair.
That tanned, smug face of him would have looked perfect smashed onto his table or on the floor, better under his foot.
They wanted to play the big game, gamble when he already had more important business to take care of. It was almost hilarious, almost because that little game would be short-lived. He would let them do it, for a while, until Jey got what he deserved since everything that was happening was his fault. That was what happened if they left their side exposed, if they allowed a pack of strays to smell weakness, it was the price to pay for a crack and the reason Roman would have no more second thoughts.
Elders were right, he had to focus, do what he had to do and what he had been chosen for. He couldn't afford any more weaknesses or they would become ready and able to bite his throat.
- Go ahead – he conceded, collecting himself.
He would get rid of them one by one, blood of his blood or not. Without mercy.
***
She had sought comfort between now cold sheets smelling of him, curling up her legs for extra warmth, keeping her eyes tighter to ward off thoughts ready to fill her mind, but hadn't made it and her she-wolf had found Roman through the link. She had sensed him immediately, probably because he wasn't shielding anything believing that she was still asleep and Y/N had snuck out to join him in the dim light of his home office.
Mate is not here with us.
He was sitting on the couch with a solitary lamp, his face serious, fingers running through the seeds of his necklace. He was physically there, but his head was somewhere else as happened too often now. In the house he always kept the ulafala in the case, but Y/N didn't need to ask to know why he was there staring at it when he was supposed to be resting by her side, in their bed. Paul had told her as soon as he received the news, keeping to their agreement or perhaps already seeking help and Y/N had finally given a deadline to the anxiety that was weighing on her.
Fourteen days of peace before chaos, before completely crumbling what was left of the family, but in a few hours it would truly become inevitable. Or it was probably already late judging by Roman's face.
- Will you have to wear it? – she asked in a whisper, entering the room almost on tiptoe.
He hadn't told her anything about how the meeting would take place nor had he added anything about the fight, but she couldn't blame him. She had promised to stand by him, to defend him, yet she hadn't reacted well to his drastic change of plans and he didn't seem to really understand why she hadn't accepted it. What had happened was serious, but what could happened next would be even worse. Standing, she watched him keep his gaze fixed on the symbol of sacrifices, of his role and pains without turning to look at her and she too observed it, perhaps expecting a revelation.
Red for power, seeds for the rebirth of the dynasty.
She knew the value and pride behind that object, Roman had told Y/N all the stories about the ulafala, but no matter how hard she tried in her eyes it was only a necklace left weighing him down. It should have given him strength, conveyed his strength, represented the family future and instead he found himself fighting to keep it around his neck, to keep what he had gained after an argument born from unpleasant circumstances and degenerated due to old grudges.
- I earned it, represents me – she heard him reply, because in his mind it was the only thought.
She felt it, she knew it. He felt his efforts, sacrifices threatened and they were, but Y/N still felt like it wasn't Jey or Jimmy who was the real danger. At least not initially, now everything was a danger, even the elders who were supposed to accompany and advise him. Them all had fallen into a trap were building with their own hands and she couldn't resign herself to the sight of that disaster.
He's not just that for us.
- You don't need it – she reminded him, stopping looking at the ulafala to focus on him.
She saw him inspire with frustration, felt annoyance pass through him at the mere idea of continuing that conversation, his eyes far from hers.
- Go back to bed Y/N.
- Come with me then, is not mornin yet – she insisted, refusing to give up.
They had different opinions, different approaches, it had always been like that and perhaps it would never change, but they were on the same side. She didn't want to go back to their room if he wasn't there, didn't want to sleep if he wasn't there, she had been alone for too long to throw away moments, to wait two weeks to pass and then hope to go back to what they had before. She trusted Roman, she had never trusted anyone like him, but it wasn't going to end up with Jey and Y/N was honestly afraid of the aftermath he talked about. The threats were different, without blood ties and were just waiting the right moment to attack him, they wanted to get him out of the way and take everything, not just his role. No one can get rid of a weed without pulling out its roots. It had already happened with her family and now can happen again because he was focused just on what was in front of him. But she couldn't wait for the inevitable, it wasn't in her nature to do what she had to do or what he wanted, she existed to do what he couldn't.
She saw him stay silent, sign he had no intention of moving. So she stood in front of him, slipping the ulafala from his fingers without asking. That move finally forced him to raise his head, trying to understand what was happening, while she carefully placed it back in the case where he kept it and then went back to the couch. She listened him breathe heavily, scratch his dark beard with a grimace, and she sat down on his lap to take up the entire view.
- Ain't doing this talk once more – he stopped her soon, shaking his head.
- Not even if im the one asking? – she tried, seeing him immediately clench his jaw.
- Im doing it for you, for us, all! I told you and you said we were on the same side, now what?!
- I'm not taking anything back. I'm just worried it’s already too much – she confessed, not really knowing how else to explain the feeling in her.
Maybe she was giving in to the hormones, anxiety, or maybe was the fact she hadn't cared about others in years like she did now for him, but it was all happening so fast and whether Roman was ready to admit it or not, he was losing control and not facing things with a right mindset. Those outbursts of anger, the way he turned against everyone, judgments, drastic solutions, he was getting carried away by the desire for revenge and his justice. He kept saying he was doing it for them, for their future and instead seemed like a pretext to rush towards other problems. They didn't need acknowlegment, a border to build anything, they were fine, everything worked when it was just them, together. They had never been happier than in the time spent getting to know each other, digging their bond out of the dust and strengthening it. Life certainly couldn't be made up only of moments like those, dates and runs in the woods, but things could certainly have been different.
- Whatever it takes, doesn't matter, at all – he announced, almost exasperated by having to explain, by having to hear, his gaze so confident and Y/N stared at him for a moment without being able to say anything else.
Whatever it takes, he said.
The prospect of those sacrifices and ease which he said he wanted to face them would torment was heavy, but as she had sadly learned to do growing up, she hid all the worry in the back of her mind.
He didn't listen or maybe he didn't want to.
So Y/N simply moved closer, challenging his growing temper, to seek some warmth and his lips in an uncertain kiss. Saw him look at her almost suspiciously for her reaction, studying before reciprocate the kiss and sliding his hands down her thighs. Close, felt their breaths slowly mix in the silence of the dark house and that warmth she had found too late, growing from the most vulnerable part to her chest begging for comfort.
- You matter to me – she reminded him in a heated murmur, forehead resting on him, swollen lips touching, eyes burning for something that went beyond words.
She didn't really care about anything else. They could have been anywhere, surrounded by anyone or in utter desolation and Y/N would still have searched for those eyes. They were her firm point, he was her person. The thought of it terrified her, but she was done fighting and pretending. Roman was everything for her, she had nothing else anymore and she wanted, hoped... he would understand that for that exact reason they couldn't give in. They had to stay together, as a pack, mates.
She saw his gaze lingering on her lips, rising then to meet her eyes, two brown pools now dark in the dim light of the room. Felt his fingers gripping her hips, digging into soft flesh with possession, domineering and lust, marking her skin to claim and force her where she already was.
- Then you gonna be there with me, as you should – he demanded, resolute and despite fighting with everything her head suggested, Y/N nodded to please him again, letting Roman finally crash his mouth against her, satisfied.
They would find a way, they would find a solution even if it seemed difficult, they could do it together, but in that moment Y/N just needed to feel him close, just for her, far from all the noise and problems that awaited them out. They could give themselves that moment of rest, cherish it and Y/N rocked on him, moaning into his hot mouth as their bodies inexorably warmed up. His tongue was insatiable, ready to devour and intoxicate her with his good taste, thrown into a fight that she didn't even dare win. She preferred to let him have control in those moments, while her fingers made their way through dark soft locks, scratching the back of his strong neck to once again elicit that raw growl that vibrated through his broad chest into her bones. Felt his hands slide deeper, grasping her ass, encouraging Y/N to move her hips, pushing on his boner which was quickly answering to juices already wetting his pants.
She had stopped wearing panties when they went to bed a while ago and now was even grateful. She would bear nothing but the feeling of his hard body against her, pressure building like a blessed torture as he guided her growling for her to ride him shamelessly. Y/N had been trying to slow down and control herself for months now, so as not to give in to the heat of their bond, stay with feet on the ground and mind clear now that everything was falling apart, but it was an inexorable descent faster every time Roman touched her. She clung to him, feeling one of his hands travel up under her shirt to roughly grab one of her breasts, his calloused palm rubbing her sensitive nipple making her squirm. Her body had always been hyper-reactive to his attentions, but now she had fallen into a spiral with no exit. Y/N yearned him like a castaway for salvation and in moments like that the need mixed with something more, something that Y/N had never felt for anyone else and her she-wolf fought to make her whisper.
Tell him. We need him. Our mate. Tell him.
- My pussy wet as fuck hm? You need me, don't you? – he said voice like velvet, breaking their kiss and motioning for her to raise herself just enough to sink easily into her cunt – Ima fill you up good, babygirl… don't worry. Aint going nowhere and you'll be stuck with me.
The heat caused by his intrusion had already forced Y/N to open her mouth without being able to speak back, but the sudden thrust of his hips quickly accelerating to pound her almost made her cry. Hands tightened on his shoulders, eyes narrowing with each thrust and then opening as the wave of heat rose from her belly, sending her entire body into flames. Bouncing on his lap, she felt Roman moving his hand from her breast to give her a sharp slap on her ass, he did it one more time drawing a moan and then move up to her throat, to squeeze it just enough to bring tears to her eyes. Quickening the pace, in the frenzy of their moment, Y/N began to confuse the her own pounding heart with the slick sound of bodies slamming together. Her mind becomes more clouded by the second, ears filled with Roman's growls and threatening promises like dark spells ready to tear her soul and climax away. Confused between pleasure and desperation, she held him to her as he held her by the throat, twitches of her wet center uncontrolled amidst the panting of both of them that grew angrier. Room around flashed, throbbing like folds around his cock, impregnated with smell of their bodies, air charged and heavy, saturated with sweat and lust, with a mix of their smells.
They were racing with no intention of slowing down, as if the only goal was to consume, melt and crumble thanks to the other one. Y/N end came sudden and violent between a sloppy kiss and a particularly insistent push on that soft point on which Roman loved to rage without any mercy, fast, powerful, in a strangled moan that made her bare feet tingle, rising in an electric discharge up her legs to a sweaty body, chest begging and hot face. She closed her eyes, grabbing Roman's arm for her life, throwing her head back and then immediately hiding her face on his shoulder because he wasn't slowing down, he wasn't even giving her a moment to breath and she had already went over her limit. Heat kept growing and shake her, causing Y/N to lose all contact with her surroundings, ears ringing as if she had been underwater, body still crying out for more while Roman pounded furiously. Stunned, she stood abandoned in his arms, letting him have his way as he wanted, until something made her eyes widen, pushing her to gasp.
- R-Ro- she tried, because his hand had somehow left her throat, to grab Y/N by the back of her neck and tilt her head to the side.
He was holding her by her curls, beard scratching her hot neck, tongue ready to lick away sweat from her sweet pulsing weak spot to prepare it.
- Easy, stay still – his breath against her skin, so close, pushed Y/N to stiffen as much as his words – I'll be gentle, ssh…
Roman had never pushed, he had never held her like he was doing at that moment and feeling his teeth on her flesh sharper than usual, Y/N wriggled away.
- Don't - she tried again, feeling him tighten his grip, slowing down his thrusts, another hand moving to her wrist.
Why he was acting like that?
- Don't panic, its me – he reassured her, words heavy, attitude raising for her reaction and she planted her feet, her only free hand tapping on his bare chest.
It was him, Roman? Was it really him that one? Suddenly Y/N wasn't so sure and ignoring her wolf pleas, confused between the sense of discomfort and desire to give in, she pushed again to put some space between them.
- Y/N
- No, not like this! – she wailed and when finally managed to slide away from his legs, Y/N saw him jump up with a growl.
The crash of the coffee table froze her on the couch, eyes wide as she watched him pant in anger with clenched fists, body stiff. Still dirty for their moment, but with her mind completely clear now, she watched him stand there trying to regain control in a heavy silence she hadn't felt between them in a while. Roman rubbed his face, rolling his large shoulders, rocking his head and even though she was shaken, something in Y/N's chest tightened following the imperceptible direction of his gaze across the room, where she had put the ulafala away.
Did he want to mark her to prove a point? To have full control in order to not go through what had happened with his family? It was that?
Mate…
She moved her eyes to his hand, the one would have grabbed to calm him, to bring him back to there with her, the one she always found on herself for any reason even the stupidest, the one Y/N had learned to want, but a second too long passed and her hesitation was enough for Roman to quickly settle down, deciding to walk out of the room without a word to leave her again.
***
Uncle Afa was a man bent by age and illness now. When him and his dad stopped traveling around the country, he opened a gym in a recreation center on the eastern outskirts of the city where family had settled. He only trained their people at that time, city folks didn't want to set foot among savages, but his uncle ignored comments like his dad, dedicating himself heart and soul to the pack. Roman remembered going into that place the last time when he was sixteen, probably with the twins, to put on muscles that had grown bigger on their own later and fill his stomach always asking for more. The gym was different now from then, it was larger, it had incorporated buildings next door and it wasn't dusty at all. There was a sign, clean walls full of photos and articles, in the central one there was also him, right at the top.
They had organized the meeting there to have a neutral place, a place that represented everyone, a symbol of the pack values as the Elders demanded. Yet sitting at the head of the table in the gym hall, with the attention of many of his blood just beyond the threshold, Roman kept undaunted watching that perfectly framed photo at the top of the wall. He was there to talk, ready to prove his worth even if it was thanks to him that that picture had a wall to still be on, if that gym existed after his uncle's family had spent almost everything to pay the national healthcare system, if the next generations would have a place to go or eat like he did. He acknowledged his family efforts, but all of them would have been still in that dusty past of mediocrity if Roman had not taken everything into his own hands knowing he was more than what the world saw.
- Don't try, don’t think about it, I wouldn't do it if I was in your place - he heard Jimmy warn, blocking the wise man from trying to come forward to break the silence of their meeting that had already started a few minutes ago without a word.
Roman heard him clear his throat anyway, but payed no attention until Jey, the only one sitting besides him and Y/N, decided to cut it short.
- I don't have any piece of paper with me – he announced, rubbing his hands on his legs.
Roman eyed him silently, slowly tilting his head and Jey shifted in his seat, face so serious as he settled himself better to speak.
He could broaden his shoulders and give himself as much tone as he wanted, but he would never be on his level, he would never be like him and it was evident. That meeting was ridiculous, disrespectful even.
- It's just between us for me. Families have nothing to do with it – he explained, quickly nodding to whoever was outside the door – Same for Solo, he's my brother... and Y/N, she's family too. He disappears with you though and won't set foot in the packland again as long as I'm here. – he concluded, pointing to the wise man who didn't even manage to mutter his disappointment before Roman burst out laughing.
He’s crazy and dumb.
His hoarse laugh echoed throughout the entire empty hall and he didn't bother to hide it or hold back, simply running a hand over his beard to regain control only after a while. With the entire family's eyes on him, he knocked the table with his hand, eyeing his cousin once more.
Jey. The little soldier Jey. Roman had tried to keep him close, to teach him how things worked, because he loved him and still he didn’t get it. Not a single thing. Anything at all.
He persisted with his speeches even a few days before the moment which Roman would have removed him from the family, putting everything on the table to play the good pup. He wanted the title, he wanted to chase him away, but he was willing to vouch for his family anyway, for Solo who had kicked him and even Y/N… as if there was only one scenario out of all the ones imaginable in which Roman would have left her if not as a deadman or it would have allowed him to realize the ideas he had in his dumb head. He still thought the problem was him or the advice the wise man had given him to stay on top, he thought he could keep his hands clean, not involve anyone and he didn't understand that the situation they were in already, was the exact reason for which he would never have survived in Roman’s place.
- You're wasting my time – he said, giving him an annoyed smile.
Jey didn't reply, cashing in without even a nod. He was good at cashing in, Roman acknowledged it, it was his talent, perhaps his only one, but it still wouldn't have been enough against him. He might be determined and willing to fight him one more time, but it would be no use. Roman had no limits and had learned over the years and blows what was needed to kept the role he had.
- Whoever will standing at the end decides, tha’s the deal, the stipulation. There's nothing else to say – he established, tone suddenly deadly heavy.
There was nothing he wasn't willing to do or lose to keep what was his.
He saw Jey nod, imitate him and stand up and in the silence of the room leave the table to join him. Face to face to each other, he stared at his reflection in his cousin's dark eyes, the ulafala still around his neck as it was in the photo of him on the wall and as it always would be. He squeezed Jey forearm and allowed that even if the bond between them no longer existed, their wolves shared a final breath.
Blood of my blood. Brother. Traitor.
When the air left his lungs again to fill them with the stale smell of the center, Roman let go without hesitation, Jey imitating him in a perfect mirror. However, was he who turned his back on his cousin this time to go away first, ignoring the wise man's sad look and those of the rest of the family outside waiting. Y/N who had been on the sidelines the entire time, unexpectedly joined him, her back straight and face betraying nothing as she took her place next to him. Roman didn't comment, there was nothing to say.
Two weeks and he would have control again. Only two weeks before moving on.
Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @spritelucozade @tribalchiefdaily @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318
#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns smut#roman reigns x oc#roman reigns x reader#roman reigns x y/n#roman reigns x black reader#roman reigns x you#wwe smut#wwe fanfiction#wwe fic#roman reigns fanfic#roman reigns fic
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"Make it look like a freak lighting accident"
It’s been years since I’ve revisited Due South, but the @ds30below event sparked my interest again, and I decided to watch a few episodes with my bud @flownwrong to celebrate. We watched three episodes that stuck in my mind the most over the years after being absent from the show for so long: Bird in the Hand, Eclipse, and The Ladies’ Man, and I found all three to be a very rewarding rewatch, even though my memory of the rest of the series is a bit hazy.
Bird in the Hand:
When we started our mini marathon, I didn’t realize that this was the only ep of the three where Fraser’s dad plays a role, and I forgot how solid Pinsent was at pulling comic relief duty. The scene where he popped up demanding that Fraser murder Gerard immediately after Gerard was droning on about how Robert’s dogged nobility was his ultimate downfall had me rolling, as did the bit where he—probably correctly— asserted that Ray would shoot Gerard for him if Fraser really asked him to (aww). One thing in particular about his character that struck me while watching this episode were the moments where he actually interacted with the environment around him in a way that impacted people other than Fraser by implanting the idea to retreat in McFadden’s mind and having Gerard attempt to grab his hand while dangling in the air. In my memory, it was a lot more ambiguous whether Robert was actually a spirit or a figment of Fraser’s imagination, so that ended up being kind of a fun twist for me.
Since the other two episodes we watched were very Ray K centric, I’m glad we did one that had a focus on Fraser’s emotional state. The scene where he confronted Robert about stubbornly refusing help in life and said “I never loved anyone as much as I love you” while Robert was still trying to find ways to derail the conversation is a fan favorite for a reason; it’s a rare, intensely vulnerable moment for Fraser and I really enjoyed the way that Paul Gross pulled back from it a little. In another show with another character, it’s easy to imagine a scene like this being a more blatant, emotional showstopper, with the neglected son saying this in a fit of tearful anger that’s meant to make his father rear back in surprise. Instead, Paul Gross delivers the line in an understated way that’s almost more like puzzled frustration, as if Fraser is trying to piece something together about himself instead, which I thought was a really nice touch to the scene that made it feel very Fraser. I also love the cunning way that Fraser brought it back around just a few minutes later by weaponizing male emotional repression in order to freak out everyone else in the room and gain the upper hand (as well as have an opportunity to annoy Ghost Dad by calling him short) while also delivering some genuine truths: Gerard really did break his heart.
Last but certainly not least, I adore how Ray kept trying to take care of Fraser throughout the episode in his own grumpy, special way. Sure, trying to orchestrate some Fraser-on-Gerard police brutality didn’t end up being the most well received suggestion, but it’s sweet that he acted extra vengeful to make up for Fraser’s dutiful restraint. I also forgot that the “Mentally Deficient” sticker gag and the tape recorder conversation were both in this episode. The Bickering Married Couple vibes between them were always such a classic part of the show, so it was nice to see that on display.
Bird in the Hand really held up strongly against my fond memories of it, and I was a little surprised at how easy it was to slide back into this world and be immersed in it after being away for so long. Sometimes I guess you actually can go back home again.
#due south#ds30below#i will post my observations about Eclipse and The Ladies’ Man separately hopefully either tonight or tomorrow#but i had a blast watching all three#thanks alina!
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Trust
Astarion x gn!reader. My spin on the first biting interaction at camp with our fav vampire. I’ve been having some Thoughts.
Warnings: mentions of blood, light sexual tension. written on my phone. not proof read lol
Teeth bared directly above your face, white and gleaming. Sharp. The sight had you scrambling backward, feet slipping on the bundle of blankets you slept with before your sleep-addled mind cleared and recognized the silver hair and ruby eyes.
“Shit,” whispered that purring voice.
“Astarion?” Your voice was thick with sleep still. Your mysterious companion held his hands up in an attempt to calm you as you matched his movements to stand.
His ethereal eyes remained warily on yours even as he bowed his head. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear,”
You glance at your other sleeping companions; too tired or too far away in their tents to hear. Seems you were lucky that nightmares kept you just on the verge of consciousness. A vampire was in your camp after all. “What’s going on? Were you trying to hurt me-- hurt the others too?”
Campfire flame danced in Astarion’s wide eyes. He inched away from your suspicious look. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you! I just needed, well…blood.”
“I wondered how long you’d last,”
You had your doubts at first, but the little puzzle pieces kept clicking. The boar your party had found days earlier. The coolness of the brush of his hand despite the battles and time under the sun. That was before you caught yourself staring at him a little too long at the smooth angles of his face, and the silver curls that swept around his elven ears. You were sure he saw you glance at his lips more than a healthy amount. That healthy amount helped you catch a glimpse of two pointed canines.
“You…You know?” He inclined his head slightly, rooted in place. His accusing tone held an urgency for you to continue.
“That you’re a vampire? Yes,” you stated. His searching eyes had you wishing you would sink into the ground.
“How long have you known?” He tilted his head to the side; a curious trait you found endearing if you didn’t think he appeared to be sizing up his next meal. And you very well could have been just that.
“Over a fortnight. Astarion--”
“You didn’t tell the others?”
“No. Gale thinks you have an affinity for blood magic you won’t tell him about and Shadowheart just thinks you’re odd. That’s all I know,” Your shoulders relaxed just a hair when Astarion smirked. He met your eye again and it faded.
“You have been keeping a close eye on me. Is it distrust? Or perhaps something else,”
“Nothing of the sort,” you assured him, “The signs were there, and I put two and two together. You’re not subtle,”
Astarion let out a laugh, airy and flitty. “And what do you plan on doing with your excellent sleuthing skills?”
“Depends entirely on you. How long has it been since you killed someone?”
“I haven’t killed anyone! At least, not for food, since I’m assuming that’s what you mean,” You nodded. “I feed on animals. I know you know that much. Boars, deer, kobolds—whatever I can get,”
You felt his gaze linger on your racing pulse point. He was focused so intently on it your heart raced faster at the attention.
“It’s not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak,” his tongue absently wetted his front teeth. Your lips parted a bit in realization: your sleeping self would have been all too easy for him to get to.
“You wanted to feed on me,”
“I…Well, yes, if I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better,” Astarion straightened and moved closer. “Please,”
The timbre of his voice made your flesh crawl. Not unpleasantly so.
“Why didn’t you ask me instead of trying to sneak a bite in the dark?”
“At best, I thought you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs.” He eyed you up again. “No, I needed you to trust me. You can trust me,”
“I already did trust you. I thought that was clear,” you told him. His eyes flashed with something like surprise.
“Almost too trusting,”
“The least I can do is give you the benefit of the doubt,” you tried a small smile, not enough to show teeth. “The least you can do is trust me too. What do you need?”
Red eyes held you in place. Moonlight illuminated Astarion’s silver curls as he moved closer, footsteps silent on the dirt. “Let’s try to trust each other a little further, hm? I only need a taste,” he hummed, “I swear,”
You pinched your lip between your teeth, refusing to shy away from his predatory lean toward you. This moment held possibly the longest conversation with him you’d had so far. Despite your first meeting— which included a dagger to your throat and your fist thrown at his face— his actions gave you no other reason to doubt him. You did not know the man at all besides the bits and pieces he’d let slip, only on purpose you were sure. He’d kept you all alive thus far. That was enough for you.
“I…How do you want me?”
Astarion smirked. “Presumptuous, darling,”
Your cheeks burned. “Not like that—You know what I mean, asshole,”
“I’m hurt!” He placed a hand over his undead heart and feigned offense. Still, he came face to face with you. You felt your breath pick up when delicate, cool fingers moved your hair from your shoulder, baring your neck to him. Already this was feeling a touch too intimate for your comfort.
“Should I sit?”
“You should,” his words brushed against your skin; gentle, cool as the breeze. You leaned away from his touch, avoiding his eye as you sat in front of him on your bedroll. A log in the fire snapped, making you jump. “You seem nervous, darling,”
“Can’t help it. You want to take a chunk out of me,”
Another airy laugh left the man as he kneeled to your level. “That all?” he tilted his head again to make sure you met his gaze. You broke the charged contact to roll your eyes, allowing him that small win. “I’m no animal. Lie back,”
You tensed as he urged you onto your elbows. Fuck, this was like nothing you’d done before. Astarion was nearly draped over your body as he followed your own movements. His arm planted itself on the ground beside your hip and he began to bow his head toward you. “Wait, wait,” you gasped.
“What’s wrong?” There was no impatience present in his tone. Thankfully. Still, deep-set hunger swam in his ruby irises. Your cheeks flushed deeper at his closeness.
“How badly does it hurt?”
His expression hardened. He studied a spot on your neck, seeming a mile away in his own thoughts. It was emotion deeper than he’d previously allowed you to see.
“I’ll be much gentler than to you than the vampire that did this to me,”
Your curiosity was brimming when you looked at the symmetrical scars on his neck but you did not want to make him uncomfortable, so you remained quiet, and sent him a nod. Your exhale disturbed a few strands of his hair as he closed the distance between you completely.
Astarion’s nose and lips briefly skimmed the artery in your neck and you shivered at the feeling. Little warning alluded to his teeth finding purchase in your skin.
You let out a yelp of surprise, one hand digging into the dirt at your sides and the other flying to grip the front of the vampire’s shirt. Your breath did not come easily; the icy pain was almost too much. You felt your knees curl up as if your body was trying to fold into itself. The reflex nudged him closer.
The pain numbed as you felt him swallow against your throat, drawing your warm blood into his mouth. Your head fell back. His hand was there to catch it.
A fleeting moment of focus made you think the action was rather intimate. Possibly even sweet.
Another gulp. You squeaked, both in pain and in response to the foreignness of his ministrations. You tugged his collar and your eyes fluttered closed. You moaned softly as you regained your breath. His low growl, nothing more than a vibration, rumbled through your veins. Your body warmed.
Embarrassingly, you didn’t realize the rest of your body was moving until Astarion’s hand flattened over your hip. A groan left you when his teeth retracted from you swiftly. A cold hand held your own. Your neck stung when you turned your head.
Astarion’s pupils were blown wide so only a sliver of red outlined them. He’d shoved himself away, dropping your hand and stumbling into a standing position. With his fingers he wiped away your blood staining his lips. You stared, unabashed, when he licked them clean. He panted though he had no use for breath.
Lightheaded and slow, you sat up.
“Are you alright?” Concern rang in your words.
Gods above, Astarion thought, you had blood trickling from the puncture wounds in your neck that’d he’d left—fuck, he wanted to dive back in and lick up the trail leading down your chest—and you’re the one asking him if he’s alright.
His mind cleared. His hunger was satiated for now. His cock was hard. He hated how your moans affected him. He wasn’t even trying to bring them out of you, though he caught himself imagining how he could. Whatever it took to make you trust him, with no doubts. You claimed you already did, but would you go so far as to help him with his personal ambition?
The scent of your blood--gods, he was awash with pleasure of a kind he couldn’t name. He felt strong and…happy. Astarion was certain he’d said that out loud, judging by the shy smile on your lips. He’d have the blissful image and the taste of you on his mind all night.
Astarion made some excuse to get away from you, the first person he’d tasted since turning into the monster he was. He was invigorated. Ready to take on anything and anyone. Something he admitted to himself: he would --possibly, maybe-- willingly do just that for you. He would not soon forget what you had gifted him.
#bg3#bg3 imagine#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate three#astarion#astarion bg3#Astarion ancunin#astarion imagine#astarion bg3 imagine#Astarion fanfic#bg3 fanfic#Astarion ancunin imagine#my work#mine
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𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒐 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰’𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝑺𝒉𝒚
Summary: fetus!Alex and you hate each other, but not that much.
Warnings: sub!alex, dom!reader, oral(m receiving), p in v, crying?, grinding?
Word count: 4.7k
a/n: the fandom is so dead right now so I took matters into my own hands… enjoy!
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You and Alex had an interesting living situation. You met through a mutual friend, and the mutual need for cheaper rent. The both of you hated paying ridiculous prices for the smallest flats ever, especially without the help of parents' money. Unfortunately, you both also hated each other. The night you met was at a noisy, packed club, and after a long day of university, you both needed to let loose. Your mutual friend invited the both of you along with a few other friends. He hadn’t been seen by your friend all night, but you saw him. As you had unsqueezed yourself from the mass of bodies dancing to the music to go to the bar, you felt a person knock into you. You turned to the side to tell him off, but your voice was caught in your throat as you looked at the boy in front of you. He was a fairly small boy, with thick hair that stuck up in the back. He wore a polo, with the color popped up, and baggy jeans. But what really stood out was his eyes, big and round and confused looking. The confused look quickly went away as he studied you.
“You y/n?” He asked loudly, attempting to strain over the loud music. His voice was higher pitched than you’d expect.
“Yes, I am, and you must be Alex, you fit the description I was told about. You also just ran into me, if you didn’t notice,” you respond, annoyed at his casual tone.
He smirked slightly, “I noticed.” What a dick.
You and him proceeded to have a strained conversation. He was clearly gone, sloshing his cheap beer around in his hand, accidentally splashing you with it at one point. At least he got you a napkin. You disagreed on almost every level, your personalities clashed in a frustrating way. Eventually, you got to the topic of university. He was an English major, surprising, considering his slurred speech and odd wording. Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t afford university combined with rent. That was the one thing you could agree on. You're not sure how, but In your drunken haze, you ended the conversation disgruntled but with a plan to room together in a new apartment. You managed to follow through with minimal talking, and moved into an apartment in the next few weeks. The circumstances weren’t the greatest, but it was the easiest option for everyone.
He put posters of the strokes, oasis and the libertines up on his side of the bedroom, and had his records stored next to his record player. Your records sat opposite to his. The first days were filled with arguments about things like who can take a shower, what type of coffee to make, and who can control the tv. He called you pretentious, you called him annoying. You’d complain about his habits of staying out late, and how he didn’t even try to be quiet when getting ready for bed. The yelling turned into grumbling, and the grumbling turned into silence as the both of you fell into some sort of routine.
you wake up hours before he does, and take a shower first thing. Typically getting dressed in outfits that consist of tights, sweaters, flats and denim or leather jackets. You pour yourself a cup of black coffee, and head to your first class of the day. By the time you got back from your early morning class, he was usually awake in his bed, sipping on an iced coffee. Iced, vanilla, coffee. You made him keep it in the fridge. There was always the lingering smell of the cigarette he had enjoyed on the balcony. You ate whatever pastry you had purchased from the bakery close by campus while he took an obnoxiously long shower. You would leave as he finished for the rest of your classes, just missing him stepping out of the shower wet and disheveled. Luckily your days didn’t overlap until late at night as Alex liked to go out, and he also liked to play in his band. He would clamber into bed after stripping to his boxers, and you would resist the urge to turn over to his side of the room and look. Then you would wake up and do it all over again.
One Sunday night, as Alex walked in the door earlier than usual, the routine changed. It was 9, and you both were puttering around the small kitchen trying to prepare separate microwaveable meals. Seemingly out of nowhere, Alex cleared his throat and asked,
“Do you wanna watch a movie, together I mean.”
Not knowing what to say, you kept your back facing him and nodded. You couldn’t see it, but his cheeks heated up to a bright pink, and he smiled softly to himself while continuing to prepare his noodles. The two of you settled down onto your beds, and you tossed the remote over to Alex.
“You can pick,” you told him quietly.
“I actually have some dvds that I brought from home, Al Pacino movies and stuff if you're into that,” he replied softly. The cocky boy you thought you knew seemed gone.
“Yeah that sounds good.”
He nodded, and slid off his bed to grab a big leather case from under it. After popping it open, you saw there must have been at least 80 dvds.
“Big into movies?” You asked, genuinely curious. His plush lips parted into a small smile at the question.
“Yeah, big time.”
He selected one and popped it into the dvd player beneath the tv before settling back into his flannel sheets. The two of you sat eating your food and watching “Donnie Brasco” through the rest of the night. The movie was dotted with Alex’s little interjections about the actors or cinematic qualities. You slowly drifted off to sleep with your bowl at your side, on top of your sheets. When you woke up the next morning, you were tucked into your bed, and your dishes had disappeared.
From then on, it seemed like you two had an unstated agreement. On the nights the both of you are in the flat, you would share a film. There was more talking as well. He asked you about your day and you asked about his. Sometimes he’d even prepare your meal, and make you a drink. You found out that you both actually were quite similar. When you had rented a French dvd, Alex responded excitedly, watching intently through the whole thing. Turns out he liked them as much as you did. You also found out little things about him that didn’t really matter, but meant a great deal to you. For example, he ruffles his hair on purpose, (he wants to look like Julian Casablancas.) He also began to get more comfortable engaging in small touches with you, touching your hip as he passed by you, light pats on the shoulder when you told him about a paper you did well on, and once tucking your hair behind your ear before scurrying away nervously. You didn’t mind it.
At the beginning of one normal movie night, Alex proposed that you sit in his bed.
“Y’know I just figured, it-it would be easier to see for you I didn’t mean anything by it,” he stuttered, blushing furiously. You laughed softly at his nervous behavior and moved over to his bed, settling onto the soft comforter. He tensed up as your shoulder touched yours, but relaxed quickly after. He turned his head to you and said,
“If you want to get under the covers, I don’t mind, it’s pretty cold anyways,” he trailed off, eyes casting downwards making the shadow of his lashes more prominent. You nodded in response, slipping your legs under the sheets.
As the movie progressed, you noticed his eyes starting to flutter closed, and his small frame slumped against yours. Slowly, you leaned back further, easing him to lay with his head in the crook of your neck. He didn’t say anything, allowing it to happen. You could tell he was still awake from his hitching breaths and pounding heart beat against you. Testing the waters, you took your hand up to rake through his soft hair. You got in response a shiver from him and a small hum, but no protests. You played with the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly. You could feel him smile against you. This Alex was not the Alex from the bar the night you met. This Alex was soft and vulnerable, and absolutely sweet. You allowed yourself to drift to sleep, him in your arms.
The night after was filled with nerves creeping up on you. You spend the whole day thinking about Alex wrapping himself tightly around you, not able to focus on any work at all. You know Alex wasn’t going to be home early that night, he had a late shift at the bar to cover. You wished he was here with you, watching films, listening to records, or just simply talking, but you know it was best to have a bit of space. The two of you hadn’t exchanged any talk in the morning, both far too timid to share any feelings. So there you sat In the darkness of your shared room, unable to fall asleep or think of anything other than Alex. Your thoughts of Alex were interrupted not a moment later by the sounds of the boy himself. You keep your body turned over so he can’t see your face, just listening to his breathing and sounds of him putting down his keys.
When you hear him settle onto his bed, you did not expect to hear him softly crying. It was quiet, but the sound was unmistakable. Without thinking, you sat up and turned around, in which Alex responded by lifting his head quickly. His hair was hanging over his eyes, which are red and puffy. His doe eyes are soft, and his lashes are slick with tears. Responding on instinct, you immediately jumped off your bed and hurried over to his, wrapping one arm around him. He responds by leaning into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You pet his hair lightly while he sniffles, trying to distract him from whatever was happening. Eventually he lifts his head up and averts his eyes away from yours. He takes a deep breath and then suddenly all of his words come pouring out at once.
“I’m so sorry for being weird all day y/n, I was worried I made you uncomfortable last night because I really like you and I don’t want to mess up us being friends, because you're like, one of the best people I’ve ever met. And I’m sorry for crying all over you and you can leave I understa-”
You shut up his rambling by leaning into his bitten lips. He made a noise of shock into your mouth, before he began to kiss back enthusiastically. He was one of the most eager kissers you’d ever encountered. His kisses were filled with an urgency you hadn’t felt before. He tasted like cigarettes and cheap beer. Unable to resist yourself, you reach a hand up and rake it through his hair, before tugging softly. In response he whines into the kiss, before pulling back and looking at you in shock. His lips are red and swollen, and his cheeks are flushed pink.
“I didn’t think you liked me like that,” he says quietly. You didn’t respond, just continuing to look at his perfect face.
“I guess I just overthink things too much,” he replies to himself. This you respond to.
“I can make your mind go quiet, if that’s what you want.”
Even you were shocked by your boldness. He couldn’t form words, just nodding furiously, shaking his hair around. You lean back from him, sitting against your pillows and opening your legs. He looks confused at what you were doing. You pat the spot between your legs and say,
“sit.”
His eyes got impossibly wider as they flicked between the space between your legs and your face. “You mean like how girls normally do?” He asks, looking insecure.
“I guess so, but really it’s just so I can take proper care of you,” you respond, smirking at his innocent expression. “We don’t have to do it like that if you don’t want to.” You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“No,” he responds quickly, voice straining a bit. “I want to.”
“Then come here.”
He lifts himself up off the ledge of his bed and settles his back against your chest. You instantly wrap your arms up to cradle his little waist. His body shivers a bit against yours. You push your hands under his shirt and feel his soft skin, while beginning to lean down to kiss his neck. His body is shaking a bit, so you pull back slightly and say softly in his ear,
“Are you okay? You're shaking honey.” He blushes deeply at the nickname, before shaking his head and responding, “Yeah, I’m-I’m just not used to this.”
You nod in response before continuing. As you begin to kiss down his neck, you decide to take a risk.
“Can I leave marks?” He whimpers lightly before hurriedly nodding.
You lick over his pulse point before sucking a small love bite into his pale skin. He tilts his head back further, exposing more of his neck to you. Between bites and kisses you whisper in his ear.
“No ones ever properly taken care of you, sweetie.” He looks embarrassed at the words, letting out little whimpers and deep breaths as well. You continue to run your hands over his stomach under his shirt. Your hands drop lower, caressing his defined hip bones. At this, he lets out a quiet whine and squirms a bit.
“Need more.” he says while looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes. His fists are curled at his side, and his chest is heaving with need.
“if it’s what you need sweetie.”
You take the edge of his shirt and pull it over his head, ruffling his hair even more in the process. You trail your hands down to his jeans, feeling the edge of them before asking, “Can I take these off?”
“Yes, please.” he breathes desperately. You unzip them and let him do the rest, unable to reach from your position. Now here you were, with Alex Turner between your legs in nothing but his boxers, looking delicate as ever. Deciding to be bold, you take your hand and palm over his crotch. The fabric feels wet with precum, and you can almost feel him pulse under your touch. His response is immediate, bucking up into your touch and desperately pawing at your other hand that was resting on his tummy. You trace one finger around his cock, feeling the surprisingly long length of it. He silently hopes you can’t feel his heart beating out of his chest, but of course you can. You decided to surprise him by reaching your hand down to wrap around the base of his cock. The sound he made was something out of a porno. A broken, high pitched moan that seemed like it resembled an “oh god.” The sound went straight to your core and you felt wetness start to pool in your panties. You begin to move your hand along his raging erection, eventually getting to the tip, just lightly swiping your fingers over it to tease. You would think he’d never even jacked off before from his reaction. All he could do is squirm and push himself into your touch desperately.
You remove your grip on him to just lightly take your finger and run it up and down his cock, moving the precum leaking out of him along it. As you teased him, you couldn’t help but lean down to suck a hickey into his collarbone. The need to see him as disheveled and marked up was unbearable. You couldn’t help but trail your other hand further up his stomach to his chest to his nipples, lightly ghosting over one to see if it was okay.
“Please, please I want it.” The boy who was nervous about being submissive was definitely gone.
You take his nipple between your fingers, rolling it before pinching lightly. He looks overwhelmed at the action between his legs and chest. You switch between the two of his nipples, almost overstimulating him. His chest and cheeks are flushed, and you're honestly interested in seeing if anything else is.
You take your hand off his cock, leaving him whining in disagreement.
“Why’d you stop?” He chokes out, pouting like a kid who dropped his ice cream.
“Because I wanna taste you.” you smirk in his ear.
You can hear his voice catch in his throat, and before he knows it you're releasing your hold on him and crawling between his legs. From this angle, he looks downright sinful. His puppy eyes are trained on you, watery from being on edge. His lips are bitten and his hair is messy and covering his face making him look somehow innocent despite the current situation. Trailing your hands up his legs, which were just as delicate and pale as the rest of him, you settle on where his v-line meets his boxers.
“Can I suck you off.” You ask bluntly, trying to get that pretty blush to rise up to his cheeks. It works.
“Yes-yes please do whatever please.” He begs hands fisting the sheets by his side, frustrated by the lack of stimulation on his painfully hard cock.
You take this as an opportunity to pull down his boxers to reveal his dick. You almost gasp at the sight of it, big, flushed a deep red almost purple, leaking a steady stream of precum against his tummy, with a vein going up the side. He looks embarrassed at the sight of you between his legs, staring at his cock.
“Can you please touch me, please?” He whimpers quietly, averting his eyes from yours.
“I don’t know, do you think you deserve it?” You tease, rubbing the milky skin of his bare thighs.
“Yes! Yes I do please, I need you so bad.” He whines in desperation, the pressure getting far too much for him to take.
“I guess you have been good for me. Is that what you wanna be? My good boy?” You didn’t think he would react as strongly as he did, it was really just to tease him even further, but he replies by gasping softly and saying “I’m your good boy I promise, just touch me, ple-”
You interrupt his pleas by taking the head of his cock into your mouth. In response he lets out a high pitch whine. The neighbors probably hate us right now. you take the entirety of what you can in your mouth, trying not to gag as the tip hits the back of your throat. He shudders and starts to let out a continuous stream of “fucks” and “yes’s” and whimpers. you take whatever you can't fit in your mouth and pump the base of him. You hollow out your cheeks to make the sensation even better for him. In response he bucks up his hips uncontrollably and takes one hand and tangles it in your hair. He doesn’t try to pull or control your movements, it’s just an attempt to keep his body under control. It’s clear it isn’t really working, as his back arches off the bed like a cat, and he has to raise the hand that’s not in your hair to his mouth to attempt to quiet his noises. You reach your hand up and swat him away from his mouth. “I wanna hear your pretty noises honey.”
“Oh-okay.” He whispers shyly in response, giving you a little smile.
the smile quickly drops as you attach your mouth back to the swollen head of his cock, licking into the slit at the top. His unrestrained mewls are the prettiest sounds you’ve heard. You continue to massage his thighs, occasionally reaching a hand up to ghost over one of his nipples, leaving him an overwhelmed mess. His trembling legs and increasingly louder whines are a clear sign of him getting closer. He was desperately trying not to cum so quickly, but he couldn’t stop his shaky thrusts of his hips.
“oh god, you feel so-so good.” He whines desperately, sounding on the verge of pleasure induced tears. You look up to admire his sweet face, and you're met with a surprise. He doesn’t just sound like he’s crying, he is crying. Lip quivering slightly, and his eyes are rolling back to his head, as tears run down his cheeks. The sight of him so ruined has your cunt clenching around nothing, suddenly unbearably empty.
“I’m not gonna last, please plea-.” You cut off his begging by promptly pulling him out of your mouth and removing any stimulation he was getting. The cry he lets out sounds almost pained, even more tears stream from his eyes.
“Why’d you stop, I was almost there.” He pouts at you, disheveled hair paired with red cheeks and teary eyes making him look angelic.
“Because I want you inside me,” You reply, leaning your face against his thigh, “do you want that?” You finish.
“Yeah, yes I want it. I want it so bad please.” He gasps out desperate to get some form of stimulation back in his aching cock.
As you slip off the shorts and panties you were wearing to bed, you can practically feel Alex’s eyes staring at your puffy folds. He gulps as you climb over his lap, hovering over his dick. You lower yourself to grind your pussy against his cock, feeling it slip between your wet folds, nudging just right at your clit. As you begin to move up and down along his dick, his hands grasp desperately at your waist, mewling at the feeling of your plush folds sliding along his dick.
“I swear you're gonna kill me.” He chokes out, eyes focused on your soaked pussy spreading your wetness around his cock.
“Do you like this baby, you like feeling me.” You say, leaning down to his ear, before attaching your mouth to the spot under his jaw.
“Love it, love it so much, I need more.” He moans, hands trailing from your waist to squeeze the flesh of your ass.
“More? Don’t you think that’s a little greedy?” You tease, licking and biting along his collar bone. He whimpers and shakes his head, burying it in your shoulder, shuddering softly. His fingers are toying with the edge of your shirt, too nervous to ask to take it off. Luckily you get the hint.
You pull the shirt over your head, allowing him a moment to look at your bra, before promptly pulling that off as well. His big, brown eyes dilate at the sight of your tits.
“Can I touch them, please?” He says, looking up at you hopefully. You nod into his neck. He immediately reaches his hands up and gropes at your tits, squeezing them in his delicate hands. You continue to grind against him to make him more desperate as he suddenly leans forward and captures one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking desperately. You gasp softly and begin petting his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.
“You like having your mouth full sweetie?” You ask, a rhetorical question of course. All he can do is let out a muffled whine. His tongue swipes along the bud, nipping gently in an attempt to get you as desperate as he is. Suddenly he releases you from his mouth and stops the movement of your hips against him with his hands.
“I can’t anymore, I need to be inside you. I’ll be good for you, I promise I swear love!” He whines finally, breaking under the teasing.
“Okay honey, you’ve been a good boy.” You reply while lifting up to your knees and grabbing hold of his cock. He’s been hard for so long he swears he’s going to bust any second now. You line up the fat head of his cock to your leaking cunt, before slowly pushing him inside. You groan low in your throat as you feel his thick cock stretch you out just right, the tip brushing your g-spot. You almost don’t notice the way he throws his head back in euphoria, sounds caught in his throat from the way your plush walls squeeze him perfectly, and the way he can feel your cunt gush around him. You grab hold of his face, admiring his lust blown eyes for a moment, before leaning in to connect your mouth with his. It’s rough and messy as his tongue slides along yours, his mouth sweet and soft. You begin to slowly move your hips, the first few movements have him shaking again. You let him sink into the bed, so overwhelmed that he was pawing at anything he could get his hands on. Your tits, your ass, your waist, anything to keep him grounded.
But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way your tits bounced with every thrust. He couldn’t stop hearing the wet noises coming from your pussy every time you bottomed out of his dick. He couldn’t stop looking at how your pussy enveloped him, leaving his dick wet and glistening.
“God you're so good!” He cried out, tears trailing down his face again.
you were right there with him, trailing a hand down to your clit to circle the puffy bud, but he was there before you were, desperate not to embarrass himself by coming too early. It only took a few swipes of his calluses fingertips on your clit to have you coming around his length. You gripped your hands on his slender shoulders as your orgasm shook through your body, unknowingly breaking him enough to have his own orgasm suddenly coaxed out. You feel his hot release hit your walls, and watch his hips jerk uncontrollably as the tears shed more than ever before. His fingers don’t let up until you collapse on top of him, sweaty bodies melded together.
It takes a moment for you to realize his crying and shaking hasn’t stopped. You lift off of him, still straddling him, his cum starting to leave out of you.
“Are you ok al?” You ask.
He doesn’t respond, a fuzzed over look on his face, trying his hardest to give you a little nod. You grab his fragile body in your arms and slowly lift him out of bed, walking him to the bathroom slowly. You take a damp cloth and wipe him down softly as possible. You wipe yourself down as well, still cradling him in your arms. Grabbing his hand, you lead him over to your bed, wanting to lay him in clean sheets. You help him into the bed and slide in beside him. He buries his head in your chest, still shaking but not crying anymore. You pet his hair, hoping to calm him down. After a few moments he slowly lifts his head up, making eye contact shyly.
“I’m sorry for all that.” He said softly. “I sometimes get a little unresponsive when I get a little too into it.” He looks nervous, anticipating your reaction.
“That’s okay Al, it’s kinda sweet.” You reply, watching his cheeks flush lightly. You lean down and kiss him lightly on the cheek.
“I had a really good time.” You say, smiling at him.
“Me too.” He gave a long pause before asking, “do you maybe wanna go out sometime.”
You almost giggle at his shy demeanor. Still so nervous.
“Of course I do honey.”
The both of you lay In comfortable silence for a while, arms wrapped around each other. You noticed his eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay awake.
“Go to sleep Alex, I’ve got you.” You whisper, stroking the side of his face. He hums in agreement nuzzling into your neck further. You stroke his hair and face until you feel his breathing stabilize. The both of you fall asleep entangled together, your lips pressed against the crown of his head
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Hi! May I rant in your inbox? (Wanted to send a short ask and then there suddenly were more and more words, oops.)
People get riled up over the strangest things. There's a Stardew Valley mod which lets you marry Morris (IIRC it's even called "Marry Morris," but sadly I think it hasn't been updated in a while and is incompatible with the newest version), and I recently looked at Stardew Valley's reddit (I know - terrible mistake), and someone there said they find Morris hot and wanted to have him as an elligible bachelor and people really got upset over that. Oof.
I mean some of us like that pretty design of his... If he's busy wooing and doing the farmer, he can't be a dick to his employees, so it's totally beneficial for everybody! :P
Also, whenever someone posts about Xtardew (NSFW sex mod for male farmer and bachelorettes), there will 100% be someone judging them for it in the comments, making weird assumptions about that person's social life, sexual preferences, personality, and sexual proficiency. Such invasive bullshit, ugh.
It's so silly and annoying (but not remotely surprising) that this community for a "wholesome" game that some like to think of as ~cutesy uwu~ is full of purity police officers who will have a breakdown in some youtuber's comments if that gamer plays the game for the first time and doesn't "optimize" everything immediately.
(I have actually recently seen that because I discovered that Contrapoints has a livechannel on youtube and watched her first ever attempt at Stardew while she seemed absolutely high, and it was a blast! :D)
Sorry for the rant. I know I'm being harsh and probably quite unfair, but oof! Every time I lurk in that fandom, it makes me not want to engage with it at all, although I'd love to learn how to code and make my own Stardew mods and maybe even share them. Maybe I should just write raunchy hot smutty fanfics of my favourite characters (especially Morris, ha!) instead lol.
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Some Team Castle shenanigans for @mygangtome day 2024. Written in an hour on my lunch break, unedited, Allan, Marian and Guy go out to the tavern, semi-crackish
"Allan," Marian hisses from the end of the corridor. "You need to help me sneak out of the castle."
Allan sighs and rolls his eyes. "You know I can't do that, Marian. Giz banned the Nightwatchman."
Marian huffs. "I wasn't going to sneak out to be the Nightwatchman."
Allan eyes her dubiously.
"Well, all right, maybe I was. But I just want to get out! Take me to a tavern or something, I don't care! I just need to get out of this damn castle."
Allan raises his eyebrows. He doesn't think he's ever heard Marian swear before. "All right," he says, hands on hips. "But I'll have to ask Giz for his permission. And you never know, he might want to come too."
"I don't care," says Marian. "I'll go to the tavern with the Sheriff if it'll get me out of here for five minutes!"
"Fine, I'll ask him," says Allan. "No promises, mind." He looks at her sceptically. "Have you even been to a tavern before?"
"I can hold my wine, thank you very much," Marian says, which means no.
Allan smirks. "We'll see," he says.
Gisborne is horrified at first.
"A tavern? Lady Marian?"
Allan pleads her case pretty well, especially since he's not quite sure he believes it himself. He's not convinced that Marian won't run off to the forest or start giving alms to the poor the minute Guy's back is turned.
He can see Guy starting to waver.
"Very well," he says eventually. "Under one condition."
"Yeah?" says Allan. "What's that?"
"I will accompany Lady Marian to the...tavern," he says, as if the word is an unpleasant bite of food.
"Yeah, great," says Allan. "I might head down too."
Guy looks strained. "Allan, you don't have to-"
"Yeah, but I want to. What, are you gonna ban me from going down the pub?"
Guy bears his teeth at him. "I should do." He sighs. "Fine. You may come."
"Didn't actually need your permission, but thanks Giz," Allan chirps, then leaves before Guy starts throwing things at him.
The company isn't exactly diverting to start with. Guy buys the first round of drinks, looking suspiciously over his shoulder at Marian and Allan the whole time. He sets them on the table and they sit in silence.
"So, Gisborne," Allan says. "How's the leather working out for you? Look still in?"
Marian hides an undignified snort of laughter in her hands. Guy looks at her sharply before turning to Allan. "It's comfortable," he says.
Marian raises her eyebrows. "Is it?"
"Yes, actually," Guy says, drawing himself up in a dignified manner. "And protective. Much less cumbersome than actual armour, but it does the job."
Marian looks surprised. "Well, I never knew that."
"Me neither," says Allan.
They lapse back into silence.
By the second round of drinks, however, everyone starts to loosen up. Allan plonks them on the table.
"Cheers, Giz, Maz," Allan says, raising his tankard, and neither of them tell him off for the nickname.
"What should we call you?" Marian says. "Al? Az?"
She lets out a snort and Guy joins her in laughter, to all of their surprises.
"I'm gonna use that from now on," he says, gesturing towards Allan.
He sets his tankard down. "I shouldn't drink anymore, the Sheriff wants me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow."
"C'mon, live a little, Giz," Allan says.
"Yes, Guy, you need to loosen up," Marian says, bursting into giggles for no apparent reason. Allan had known she'd be a total lightweight.
Guy rolls his eyes and sighs, then drains half the tankard in one. Allan cheers while Marian laughs in delight, attempting to copy him and spilling half the pint down her dress.
"Oh drat!" she says.
Guy shakes his head fondly and offers her a handkerchief.
"Thanks Guy."
By the third round, both Marian and Guy are well and truly drunk, and Allan's well on his way to tipsy.
"Sure you don't wanna go home already?" Marian teases Guy.
"Nah," he says, taking a big gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fuck the Sheriff."
Marian howls with laughter and Allan can't help but join her. People are starting to look in their direction, but Guy and Marian don't seem to notice.
"Fuck the Sheriff!" says Marian, raising her tankard and clinking it against Guy's, then Allan's.
"To drinking!" says Allan.
"To ale!" says Guy.
"To friends," says Marian, catching them both in her little smile. Allan feels pleasantly numb, happy in the company of two people who have been enemies, allies and superiors to him, but who right now are friends.
"To friends," he repeats.
"To friends," Guy says. He's wearing an odd look on his face, one Allan can't quite read.
"On that note, I need to visit the privy," Marian says. "Where is it?"
"Outside." Allan gestures vaguely, noting the distasteful look on Marian's face as she gets up.
Once she's left, Gisborne rests a hand on his shoulder. Allan turns to him and is surprised to see his eyes filled with tears.
"Guy?" Allan asks tentatively.
"Allan," Guy says miserably. "Allan, what can I do to make her love me?"
Allan takes a deep breath. He should have known Gisborne would be a weepy drunk. "Well, she's your friend. That's a start, right?"
And then Guy is weeping into his chest. "Why won't she love me, Allan? I just want her to love me."
Allan pats the back of Guy's head awkwardly. "There, there," he says. Guy continues sobbing into his shoulder, but luckily doesn't say anything else.
"Allan, I can't walk straight," Marian says, tottering back to their table. Allan's almost surprised that she's come back - he'd half expected her to run off.
Then she notices Guy weeping into Allan's shoulder. "Guy? What's wrong?"
Guy lets out another wracking sob and doesn't answer, which Allan is secretly grateful for. He came out for a relaxing night of drinking - the last thing he needs is for Marian and Guy to have it out here and now.
"He's just a bit drunk," Allan says, answering for him. "C'mon, help me get him back to the castle. We don't want the Sheriff to see him like this."
Marian nods, trying to look more sober than she is, and helps Allan get Guy up.
"Not the Sheriff, no, no, nooo," he moans. "Allan, you can't let the Sheriff see me like this, OK?"
"On it, boss," Allan says. Marian sniggers.
"Or Marian," Guy says. "She can't see me like this."
"Um," says Marian, her arm already around his shoulders.
"ALLAN!" Guy yells, giving him an earful about letting Marian near him in this state as they wrangle him out of the tavern.
"Jeez, a little gratitude would be nice," he says as Guy lapses into tears again.
They manage to make it back to the castle without being spotted. Marian helps Allan lay Guy down on the bed.
"Well," she says, looking awkward (and a lot more sober than she was half an hour ago). "Goodnight Allan."
"G'night Marian," Allan says.
"Goodnight, Guy," she calls, but Guy doesn't respond.
"Don't worry," Allan says confidently. "He'll have forgotten this by the morning."
"I hope so," says Marian. She smiles. "Thank you for arranging tonight," she says. "I had a good time."
Then she's gone. Allan is astonished. She really did just want to go out and spend time with them.
Maybe that'll be a comfort to Guy later, he thinks, as he helps the man undress and get into bed.
"Stay," Guy begs as Allan is about to head for the door. He pauses.
"Are- are you sure?" he says. "I don't want you to wake up tomorrow morning screaming like a little girl about me being in your bed."
Guy snorts, the tears apparently over for now. "It'd take a lot more for you to make me scream, Allan."
Allan wonders if he realises how dirty that sounds.
Guy sighs. "I need you to wake me up in time to meet with the Sheriff," he says. "So I need you to stay. That's all."
"That's all," Allan repeats.
"Yes." Guy eyes him narrowly, then pulls back the covers. "Get in."
Trying not to smirk, Allan gets into bed next to Guy. "You had better not throw up on me, Giz, that's all I'm saying. Otherwise, you and me are through."
Allan expects some kind of response to that, an elbow in the ribs at the very least. He twists round to look at Guy and realises he's fallen asleep, gently snoring, pressed up against Allan.
Allan sighs and resigns himself for a restless night.
#my gang to me 2024#my gang to me#robin hood bbc#guy of gisborne#allan a dale#marian of knighton#lady marian#marian#my writing#team castle#im obsessed with these three i just wanna write 50 different fics where they hang out
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never in all of my life did i think that the western genre would be where i found some of the more kindly representations of mexicans but here we are.
#misc.#i mean not all western movies and tv shows are good abt it that’s for sure#but there have been some that surprised me even in their attempts#or with the fact that they had mexicans at all !#and like i’m watching billy the kid rn and it’s so fun bc !!! mexicans !!!#my people !!! they’re here and they’re speaking spanish#and they’re talking abt mexicans being COWBOYS bc they were !!!#before john wayne was even a fucking thought mexicans were the og cowboys !!!
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seriously can catastrophes stop happening for five minutes my brain is already fried from the ones we're already experiencing
#I fucking. missed d&d tonight by accident#I straight up forgot#and just didn't show up to the session#my sleep schedule is absolutely fucked#I should be sleeping now but brain won't shut up#my creative output is the lowest it's ever been and I've been in some level of depressive funk since like early january#I am just deeply unfathomably exhausted#like mentally and spiritually#all the time#my memory and sense of time are both shit#my spelling is worse than it used to be for some reason??#I really don't know what to do to make my brain start functioning again it's frankly worrying me#I couldn't even handle college so it should come as no surprise that I'm reacting poorly to the world being a perpetual screaming trash fir#and yet#idk it's been hitting again lately that I have never succeeded at anything in my life and just keep tripping and falling up for some reason#fucking everyone is in hell right now and with my overall success rate I should be dead in a ditch but I'm actually doing spectacularly#due to a series of improbable accidents and weird circumstances that happened to turn out in my favor instead of completely fucking me#aside from the looming spectre of my various failed attempts to have some kind of life trajectory#it just doesn't feel like this can keep up forever#like surely at some point the luck has got to run out I can't just keep living like some kind of folkloric trickster archetype#but my motivation and sense of purpose kind of died after the last failed attempt so I'm still just here#doing whatever this is#maybe I should drive out to the coast#maybe staring at the ocean would fix me I've been away from it for too long#I mean it can't make me worse#I should wait until further into summer though so I don't have to drive back in the dark#everyone around here has trucks with those goddamn LED headlights and I've got a little sedan that's directly in their blast zone
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