#but when he does try to stop and think things through it takes time for him and is usually interrupted because that's just his life
Text
LNDS Rafayel: Questions That Keep Us Up At Night (18+)
I started writing this yesterday but then a certain SOMEONE made me brainrot over Xavier, so here we are today. My only goals today is to finish the Xavier brainrot I have and then get a request page set up. Wish me luck and enjoy the torture I put our local fish boy through. This was supposed to be another crack fic but alas here we are.
Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.
Warnings: Suggestive Questions, Non-Human Mating Suggested, Teasing
Synopsis: You just needed to know the answers to some of the questions that kept you up at night. Who knew Rafayel would be so...flustered over them.
Word Count: 1,597
Blog Information | Masterlist
Rafayel
Questions That Keep Us Up At Night
Reader x Rafayel
“So do Lemurians lay eggs?” It had been an innocent question, one that you asked so casually you hadn’t even bothered to look up from your phone. The room was suddenly silent, the noises of chopping from earlier had disappeared and you finally looked up from your screen to see Rafayel just staring at you from the kitchen.
His face looked complex, a mixture of amusement and horror crossing it as he processed what you had just asked him. He blinked a few times before taking in a deep breath to reorient himself. He should be used to your eccentric questions at this point, hell he often asked you some pretty weird things. He just wasn’t expecting this on a Tuesday afternoon.
Rafayel finally managed to look back at you, “Oh, I didn’t realize you were so curious about Lemurians.” He was putting on an air of indifference it would seem, “Out of all the questions though, why this one? You aren’t thinking of trying to do something to me, are you?”
“Okay well first off, always thinking about that.” You began, making Rafayel choke on air for a split second, “Second off, I’m just curious. Mammals are known for giving live birth, but most aquatic life lay eggs. So where do Lemurians fit in all this?”
“If I’m not mistaken, mammals are classified as having hair or fur on them, so by those standards, Lemurians would be considered mammals, or did you forget that with your brain in the fish bowl?” Rafayel teased, a sly smirk crossing his face.
“Okay that might be true, but the lower half where the babies would pop out of is fish based. Covered in scales. Mammals don’t have scales unless you’re referring to Pangolins.” You explained to him as simply as you could.
“A pangolin?” Rafayel asked, having no clue what those were.
“Scaly anteaters.” You explained.
Rafayel was silent for a moment, “...Did you look that up just to see if mammals could have scales to prove your theory?”
“Obviously…although now that I think about it, if the bottom half is that of a fish and the top half is a mammal, would you lay eggs, hatch them, and then produce milk to feed the baby?” You said, tapping your lower lip in question.
“I’m stopping you right there…why are you asking all these questions?” Rafayel said, trying to get back to what he was doing earlier.
“These are the questions that keep me up at night, and only you can answer them for me, Raf.” You admitted. You didn’t even want to think about the multiple times you had woken up in the dead of night and laid in bed, thinking about Lemurian eggs for literal hours.
Rafayel smirked as he leaned over the counter, “Does this mean you’ve been having thoughts of me when you’re trying to sleep?”
“I’m not trying to incriminate myself, Raf.” You said, pointing an accusing finger at him, “I’m just saying that the question about Lemurian eggs, amongst several other things, have been on my mind.”
“Other things?” Rafayel murmured just loud enough for you to hear it. He looked at you, curiosity but also hesitance crossing his features.
“Well ya, for instance I know that some aquatic creatures have two.” You said, holding up the number two with your fingers.
Rafayel sighed, looking almost pained as he wanted to clarify what you were asking, “Two of what.” He was hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was.
“Dicks, penis, cocks, levers, fun handles, joysticks.” You said, listing off both the actual names as well as some euphemisms you knew.
Rafayel once again stopped what he was doing. You watched as he put the knife down next to him. You wanted to ask him why he was stopping since he had been so deadset that he’d prepare lunch this afternoon. You had been waiting ages for the salmon salad he was making.
“Really?” He asked, gesturing to the food in front of him, “Right in front of my salad?”
You couldn’t help but stare directly into those beautiful eyes of his, “You didn’t answer any of the questions, Raf. What are you hiding?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t actually have to answer your questions.” He said, leaning over to where you were sitting at the bar counter.
You then decided to press your luck even more, “So if Lemurians supposedly cry pearls, is their cum like pearlescent or something else entirely?” You watched as Rafayel’s cheeks took on a rosy hue and you barked out a laugh, “Oh that reaction tells me everything! So it’s not like humans!”
Rafayel groaned, covering his face with his hands and shook his head, “Why do you want to know about Lemurian…cum…I hate that I even have to ask that.” Rafayel said as he gave you a disappointed glance.
“It’s just a question, now I have more.” You said as you stood up from your stool, “Do Lemurians ever enter heats or ruts? Would Ebb Day be considered one of those because that day you were kinda…” You thought back to Ebb Day. He had looked so damn good with his scales and the slight sheen of sweat. If only he wasn’t so damn delirious that day you might’ve made a move to pursue something more with him.
“I was kinda…?” Rafayel said before stopping himself, “Wait, hold it, bite your tongue, I don’t think I want to know what’s going through that head of yours. I think we’re done with questions for the day.”
You couldn’t help the pout that went on your face, but Rafayel was looking away from you, not daring to make eye contact right now. His cheeks and ears were flush as he picked up his knife and continued cutting up salmon..
You slowly stalked over to him until you were standing right behind Rafayel. He, of course, knew you were there as he scrapped the salmon on top of the lettuce and put the dangerous object into the sink. As soon as he was cleared of any knives that he could stab you with should he break due to your insanity, you tugged on his sleeve.
Rafayel, despite his pouting, let out a sigh. He then moved a bit away from the counter and you didn’t even realize what had happened until you found your back digging into the counter of the kitchen. Rafayel had quickly spun you around and pinned you, both arms locking you in place as he gripped onto the cool marble.
You caught the confident glint in his eyes as he pulled a full 180 from earlier. His cheeks, ears, and chest were still a bit flushed, but he seemed to be in control for the moment, “If you’re that curious, I could always give you a demonstration of Lemurian mating habits.” He finally said.
You were stunned into silence, your mouth hung open and you could feel your cheeks heating up as you looked at Rafayel. Then, after the shock wore off, your entire face lit up at the prospect.
“Wait really? Oh man, I need to grab my notebook. I have so many hypotheses on things that I can’t wait to try out!” You said, placing your hands on his chest, “When are we gonna do this? Now? Later? Now?”
It was Rafayel’s turn to be shocked at your enthusiasm. He was aiming to fluster you like you had done to him; he wasn’t expecting you to want to jump his bones right now. The only thing he could utter was “You have a journal…?”
You nod your head, your hand going over to his neck where you remembered those iridescent blue scales had been. You pressed down slightly at the area and you could feel Rafayel’s pulse jump. You licked your lips at the thought of seeing them again, as well as his tail that he swore up and down he didn’t have until one day he slipped up and admitted to it.
“Of course silly, how else am I gonna know the best ways to unravel you?” You said, your head tilting to the side as you smirked.
You watched as Rafayel managed to turn into a darker shade of red, his mouth opening and closing before his eyes narrowed, “If I had known you were like this, I would’ve been more cautious about letting you into my home.”
“Not only did you let me in, but you gave me a key so I can stop by whenever.” You teased him, “Hopefully I will catch you in a compromised setting one day.”
Rafayel groaned, his hands going to your hips, placing his head over your shoulder, “You’ll be the death of me…” He murmured out before taking a deep breath, “Were you serious though, about uh…”
“Only if your offer is on the table.” You said and Rafayel chuckled, his warm breath fanning over your neck.
“It was supposed to be a joke.” He teased, “But with how excited you got I feel it would be cruel to take the offer back now.”
“It would be so cruel.” You said, your arms going around his shoulders, “Although perhaps we should move things a bit…slower. We can discuss it over lunch?” You said and Rafayel nodded.
“That sounds good.” He said, not moving from his position as he nuzzled his face into your neck “But in a few minutes. I’m comfortable right now.”
Your hand found its way into his purple locks as you gently played with them, “Sounds good to me.”
#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace#Rafayel Love and Deepspace#Lnds#Lnds Rafayel#lnds x reader#x reader#reader insert#rafayel x reader#l&ds#l&ds rafayel#l&ds rafayel x reader#lads x reader#lads rafayel#lads rafayel x reader
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
I played Jiyan's quest today and I can't stop thinking about being Yandere!Jiyan's dirty little secret...
[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content (dub-con), Dragon Behavior (a little bit like fangs, biting and snarling), Mention of war and all that comes with it, Stockholm Syndrom Reader]
Everyone got one of those, right? Some people overindulge in sweets, and some gamble 'just one more game' while their pockets are empty. But for someone like Jiyan, who is seen as great and respectable in the public eyes—a person who can do no wrong—it's you.
You are the dirtiest secret one could hope to never uncover behind the beloved general. It would be hard to turn a blind eye to your situation, so he does his very best so that no one finds out about it. You are only destined for his eyes, a splendid gift of Jué for sure. Why else would your paths have crossed, your fates intertwining as cruelly yet beautifully as they did?
You are hidden away in his mansion, locked up, and put through a very different hell than what he goes through. He loves you; he really does. That's why you can't leave. Never. You're the one thing that keeps him grounded in this world, the last spark of hope that keeps his sanity from accidentally killing himself on the battlefield as he realizes there's nothing more to fight for.
Jiyan doesn't return to his mansion to live in splendor and the luxuries of life. He only comes home to you.
You are not a willing participant in this secret of his. Not even the few servants he permits around him know of you. Everything must be under wraps and he used his salary as a general wisely to build you a palace that can house his madness in a beautifully twisted way. It's an illusion of the outside world, with technology and science providing the idea of being a little less captured and a little more free. And Jiyan doesn't regret spending every penny to keep up the illusion of being your lover, not your captor.
This way, he can ensure your safety and well-being far away from other people despite him being outside, fighting dangerous threats, and risking his life daily. He can ensure that you'll be fed and entertained for a long time after his death, and no one finding out long after your passing either. But he doesn't even think of this possibility. Not when he's the only one you can cling to.
Being isolated does something to one's psyche, and that's the one thing Jiyan cannot improve for you—and at this point, he doesn't want to anymore. Everyone outside the underground palace is a foe when it comes to you. They'd try to take you away from him. And after just shy of a couple of years of being imprisoned, he finally has you broken down enough that you won't fight his love constantly anymore.
Instead, you walk up to him as he finally returns, weeks having turned into months. But with no one else to give you attention and love, you open your arms to him, worn-out and bloody as he is. Your body is tense and wary, with a frown on your face, but when he moves forward, so are you. Both of you are so desperate for what only the other can give.
You let him sack into your embrace and allow him to reciprocate your hug, always just a little too tight for your comfort. It feels revolting to hold him even after all this time. Still, you claw your fingers into his clothes as if he were going to disappear again any second. He reeks of sweat, blood, and dirt, but you tolerate it, and he is ever so thankful for you loosening his hair tie and combing through his hair. It's the end of stress and despair for Jiyan. You are ringing in the peace into his life, and he wants to stay like this forever, but another part is threatening to take him over.
He had to hold back for so long, yearning and exercising patience. Now, the beast inside of him is starving.
He can't help but lose his composure a little, burying his face in your chest and smelling you like an animal. His snarls reverberate throughout your whole body, like the purrs of a cat, the need for you building rapidly inside of him. Fangs protrude from his lips as he drags them over your shoulder, searching for the taut skin above your collarbone to sink them into you. Your blood tastes sweet and exciting instead of the bitter and impure blood on his lips whenever he worries them in the barracks, thinking of you. You squirm, complain, wiggle—a part of you still resisting. But if he wants to have a taste of you, then there's nothing you can do unless you want him to accidentally rip your throat out. He's proving you're real—not another damn hallucination—and he licks up the wounds with fervor, knowing you are alive and well after having your taste spread over his tongue.
Jiyan loves the pouty look on your face when he topples you over, catching your arms with his hands. He chuckles as you resist vainly, his grip leaving the prettiest of bracelets made of bruises on your wrists. The last ones have already faded and tears well up in your eyes as he replaces them dutifully. He knows you don't want to spread your legs for him, your body resisting that until the bitter end, so he picks you up instead, carrying you to the bath to ease the tension you're feeling. He needs it, too, and Jiyan licks his lips as the sweet release of all his pent-up feelings draws near.
Your moans resemble a song of healing as they echo through the bathroom, filling the space with all the love and adoration he gives you. Jiyan worships the way your body twists in his grip, tightens around his cock, and lets him know the extent of how good he is making you feel. His thrust may be harsh, and your mouth may be begging for him to stop mistreating both your lips and body as he mauls you like a Spearback, water splashing everywhere as you two get rowdy in the bath, but you can't resist orgasm after orgasm shaking through you, your belly full of his warm seed. It takes a while to satiate Jiyan, but just like you took care of him when he returned, he washes your exhausted body afterward and takes you to bed to pepper you in kisses and to stroke you some more until you are a bawling, beautiful mess coming completely undone in front of him. There need to be no secrets, no shame between you two, and your beauty is unrivaled, especially after seeing you again after so many nights imagining this very sight in front of him.
It solidifies his life's worth when he can watch you sleep, bundled up and frowning since you are so sore. He wipes the tears from your face as you have nightmares of being alone and being with Jiyan. But hearing you say his name in your sleep—regardless in which context—is enough for him to finally settle into the soft pillows too. One arm around you, the other one for you to rest your head on. Because just like you'll never escape this prison, Jiyan won't let you be anywhere but next to him as long as he's home.
He falls asleep with dreams of domesticity. Cooking with you, feeding you dessert, taking walks in a park he'll never take you to. Massaging you, sharing your woes, and cuddling in front of the fireplace. A life he will never ever have with you, but which has kept him from death so many times. Knowing you were at home, waiting for him, angry, pouty, trying to scratch his eyes out, but you were safe and healthy, saved him from the despair of losing everyone he ever cared about in this cruel war. Your blood reminds him of life rather than death, and the warmth of your body in his arms is the comfort he needs after the endless cold nights outside of this dream he built for you.
So Jiyan doesn't even think about everything of yours that he sacrificed to get to this point. You'll be his dirty little secret forever, and he'll make sure of it no matter how many discords or people he has to kill or how much he needs to break you to make this possible. He can't continue living like the hero people make him out to be if he can't have you to compensate for his madness. Isn't it a fair price? Jiyan wouldn't know what to do with all the despair and anguish if he couldn't turn it into love. Jiyan isn't sure he could stop himself from and fight against becoming what he fears most—a mad monster.
He has yet to realize that, beneath his mansion, sleeping peacefully next to you, he has long lost that battle.
But it's his dirty little secret no one on the outside needs to know.
#Jiyan#wuwa jiyan#yandere jiyan#yandere!Jiyan#wuwa#wuthering waves#yandere wuwa#yandere!wuwa#yandere wuthering waves#yandere!wuthering waves#yandere talk#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere stories#yandere oneshots#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
leona kingscholar/reader. gender-neutral reader. ~700 words. there's one (1) line of dialogue in this entire thing.
there's a sleeping lion between your legs the second your hands touch his mane.
leona's head bobs and sways every time you comb your hands through the tangled locks and you're not sure if it's because he's actually asleep or because he's chasing your touch.
(you know full and well it's the latter.)
ruggie pops in and out of the room periodically to pull out leona's uniform and ensure he hasn't dragged you back into the bed. he's snickering and you can tell he's considering doing something for blackmail, but he's quick to talk himself out of it and leave with a wave.
leona's hair is softer than the first time you touched it. it's easier to comb through and braid since that time octavinelle tried to swindle ramshackle, weaving through your fingers like delicately grown grass with the occasional hiccup.
he takes better care of his hair nowadays, even if he does force you to do most (if not all) the work. better wording would be he's more willing to care for it, but you've been told of the effort he puts into a routine when you're not available.
(even if he denies it and says ruggie's a liar, you'd have to be blind to not see the amount of product littering his bathroom.)
admittedly, you were most thankful when he started braiding and tying his hair up at night. you remember how he'd squeeze your thigh or bite his hand whenever you'd try to untangle and style it after getting him up.
leona's tail swats your foot when you accidentally rake a hand over his ear, his teeth lightly scraping against the knee he laid his head on. a silent warning that you're quick to acknowledge by rubbing around the ear before smoothing the hair again.
your fingers glide through his hair as you braid it. he's compliant when it comes to not leaning into the way you pull and stroke to make sure no strand is too loose, a quiet, rumbling noise leaving him whenever you do.
when tapping and gentle shakes don't work, you have to stop touching him entirely for him to barely wake. his chin is sharp on your thigh when he finally turns his head, eyes trying hard as they might to glare at you through his tiredness.
a hand combing through the hair that frames his face gets him to turn until he can angle his head up at you properly. he lays his head down once you start planning where to start the first braid and all you're able to focus on is the way the waves of his hair have become defined coils.
they bounce back every time you pull a strand into the braid and you can confidently say it's the most fun you've had doing anyone's hair.
you have to press the braid between his lips to keep it from unraveling. his nose sniffs because he can feel a few stray strands tickle it, but he doesn't spit it out when you do gymnastics to reach the closest hair tie.
(there were at least thirteen scattered somewhere between the sheets. you think some of them snapped during the day and finally fell when he collapsed in bed, though there was also the possibility he just tugged them off when he settled down for the day.)
(that'd explain why all of them had strands of hair impossibly wound around them.)
muscle memory kicks in when you tap his head onto the other leg and start the second braid. taking the other tie and wrapping it around it, you wonder if he'll drag you back into bed or get dressed enough to drag you to one of his favorite spots.
while the thought of escaping to get yourself ready for the day is tempting, you know he'll only hold tight at refuse to let you go.
you're not sure why you didn't expect him to wrap an arm around each thigh, holding you in place after an unfortunate twitch. his eyes open as wide as they can like some sort of threat and the only answer you give him is a peck on the forehead.
"we have to get going," you hum, thumb rubbing against the apple of his cheek. his grip tightens and you're on the floor before you know it.
he's holding your head against his chest like he's protecting you from the dust on the ground and all you're thinking about is how you have to go through the entire process a third time.
#grim's scribbles#i blacked out and this was here#i like soft leona moments#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#twst leona x reader#twst leona kingscholar x reader#twisted wonderland leona kingscholar x reader#twisted wonderland leona x reader#leona kingscholar#twst leona kingscholar
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
Say Don’t Go | 911 7x10 spec
Based on the stills and my brain not shutting up
“I hate you!”
Christopher’s voice resonates through the hallway until his door slamming cuts it off. Eddie flinches and Buck’s heart breaks.
“Chris-“
Eddie moves half a step forward and Buck stops him by the shoulder before he can go after his son. It’s not going to help. If he knows anything about angry teenagers (having been one particularly angry himself) is that Chris needs a moment away from his dad.
The problem are those big brown eyes. Because when Eddie looks back at him, so lost and heartbroken and desperate, Buck knows he has to do something. Because this is wrong, it’s just wrong, and Buck knows he cannot fix everything for the people he loves but he cannot —will not— stop trying no matter how impossible it feels.
“Let- let me try and talk to him,” Buck asks.
“What?”
Helena and Ramon both turn to him with equal disbelief, but Buck doesn’t even bother looking at them. They’ve been so ready to take this opportunity to rip Chris away from Eddie. And, sure, they are worried and Eddie should’ve handled this a lot better, but they aren’t even giving him the chance. So he doesn’t look at them, he keeps his eyes on Eddie who gives him the smallest, pleading, nod.
That’s all Buck needs. With one final squeeze, he lets go of Eddie and moves across the living room with long strides before the Diaz’s can stop him.
Who does he think he is? What gives him the right to intervene? How dare he even be here? Whatever they are thinking, comes second to Chris and Eddie.
Buck knocks gently on the door.
“Go away!”
“H-hey, buddy, it’s me. Can I come in?”
There’s a long terrifying pause that nearly shatters what’s left of Buck’s heart before the reluctant “okay.”
With a relieved sigh, he pushes in.
Christopher is sitting on the edge of his bed, a packed backpack by his side. For a second, Buck thinks of another day, years ago, when he found him just like this. Back then, Buck’s biggest fear was that Eddie’s heart would stop. Today, he’s terrified it will break beyond repair.
“Hey, Chris.”
“Hey, Buck,” he says, looking down at his hands.
Awkwardly, Buck makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge next to the boy. He’s so big now, older and taller, but he can still see the same child that had to comfort him after the shooting.
“Chris, are you sure about this? Leaving your dad, even if it’s just for a while… that’s not going to fix things between you.”
“I don’t want to fix them,” Chris snaps, sharply. “He lied to me! He lied to Marisol, to you, he lied to everyone!”
And that’s not something Buck can argue.
“Yeah, he- he screwed up, Chris, but you need to understand.”
“I understand! Why would he that! He’s- he always told me to tell the truth and to be good but he was a liar.”
“Hey, hey, that’s- that’s not fair. One mistake doesn’t make him a liar. He just- listen, Chris, you know your dad loves you more than anything in the whole world, right?”
He’s met with silence.
“Right?”
Chris gives a noncommittal shrug.
“Right,” Buck nods. “Because he does. And he would never, ever, do anything to hurt you.”
“But he did! It hurt! Seeing her and thinking it was her… it hurt, Buck.”
“I know, buddy… I do. I just- I meant, he would never hurt you on purpose.”
“He had to know it would hurt.”
“He did. Which is why he lied…”
Christopher huffs and Buck has the horrible feeling he’s not being as helpful as he hoped. What was he thinking? Just because he loves Chris with his whole heart it doesn’t mean he knows the first thing about being a parent. He only knows what Eddie taught him.
The memory hits home like a wave. Sunlight, a warm hand on his shoulder, his heart twisting from guilt to relief and to something bigger he couldn’t name.
“You know, your dad isn’t perfect.”
“No, he isn’t,” Chris scoffs.
“He isn’t perfect,” Buck repeats, tone pleading Chris to let him finish, “and he knows it. He told me once himself, that he’s failed many times as your dad. But he also said that he loves you enough to never give up, to never stop trying to be better… for you.”
Chris is quiet, but by the way his shoulders hunch and his head tilts, Buck thinks he might be getting to him. So he pushes on.
“And- and the thing is, Christopher, your dad is very hurt right now. It’s- it’s nothing like the time he was shot… it’s something… deeper, older. Because, you see, when Shannon- when your mom died, it really hurt your dad. He loved her so much… and I don’t think he ever healed from it, not really. I think that’s why he did all this. Because he’s in pain…”
Christopher peers at Buck from under his curly fringe, reluctantly making eye contact.
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No, it doesn’t. But- but I think your dad really needs us right now. He- he needs you,” he corrects quickly. “This time, I think your dad needs you not to give up on him.”
“But I’m still mad.”
“And- and that’s okay. You can be mad. You get to be angry or sad or confused, I just- I just hope you can fight for your dad, like he does for you. Because, Chris, if he loses you… I think the pain will be too much this time.”
Chris is quiet. And Buck is exhausted.
“I don’t wanna make you feel responsible for him, Christopher. I promise, whatever you choose, I’ll have his back and make sure he is okay. I just- I think he needs both of us right now.”
“Why are you defending him? Aren’t you mad too? He lied to you too.”
“I- yeah, he did. But he’s my best friend, and I love him. I’m not quitting on him, he’s never given up on me.”
“Hmmm.”
It takes a couple minutes before Chris decides to get back up. Buck stays only because he isn’t asked to leave and, only when he sees the boy step outside does he dare follow cautiously.
In the living room, whatever Eddie was talking in hushed tones with his parents dies down immediately. He only has eyes for his son as he approaches.
“Mijo-“
“You have to promise that it won’t happen again,” Christopher demands, voice shaky. “You need to try to do better and you have to promise that you won’t lie to me again.”
Eddie walks towards his son like he is in a dream, eyes tearful. Buck can see him trembling even from afar, where he’s found a corner to tuck himself into and disappear.
“Christopher,” Eddie says, kneeling before his son and gently holding him, “I swear- te lo juro por mi vida. I will do better. I will- I will be better for both of us. I will spend every day trying to be a better father for you.”
“Okay,” Chris says.
“Okay?”
“I’m staying.”
Eddie leans forward to hug his son, but is met with a gentle push back.
“I’m still mad at you, dad.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Of course,” Eddie mumbles, but the relief in his voice is still palpable.
Eddie looks past Chris’s shoulder and his eyes find Buck. The look in his face… Buck knows Eddie like the back of his hand but he cannot quite place what it is. Thankfulness and relief and hope… but there’s something else behind it that makes Buck’s heart twist painfully.
So Buck looks away, tries to find something —anything— else to focus on and lands on the Diaz’s faces. Eddie’s parents look at him with… well, it isn’t quite anger, but there’s a confusion there and a bewilderment that somehow makes Buck even more uncomfortable. He ducks his head and beelines for the kitchen. He should let them be alone…
“Buck!” Eddie is rushing after him before he can get to the door.
When he turns around, he finds Eddie standing there, shaking and shocked. Buck waits, but Eddie doesn’t seem to have any more idea than he does about what he planned to say next.
“Sorry, I- I should probably go.”
Eddie takes a step forward, with that look still on his face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Buck goes on. “Just- just be with your son tonight.”
“You sure? You could stay.” Eddie steps closer.
“No, it’s- it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude, with your family-“
“Buck-“
“And Tommy is waiting at my place, so…”
Eddie stops. He blinks.
“Right, yeah. Of course. Just- I- Thank you.”
Buck smiles, even if the air between them still feels charged.
“I have your back, Eddie. Always.”
And before anything else can get his head spinning he steps out the back door. Only once outside does he stop and finally breathe. That was… that felt like… but it cannot be. It wasn’t. Even if Eddie looked like he wanted to-
No, of course not. Better get going, before his heart can manage to fool itself once again.
71 notes
·
View notes
Note
Perchance… could I request the bg3 companions with a Tav who has a bleeding heart? They’ll do what they need to do, kill who they need to, etc. but they still are easily tricked by just basic human kindness and often feel guilty for killing folk and whatnot. They’re ridiculously caring towards the party as well, often putting their needs above their own.
Karlach
Karlach gets it. She really does. But she’s been through (literal) Hell and has learned to be a bit more cautious
But she adores how much you love and trust people
I almost see her as someone who would go behind after you to set people straight if they conned you or anything like that
Something about it is so heartwarming ;) to Karlach, watching you take care of everyone - herself included. She wants you to look after her forever while she does the same for you
Shadowheart
almost disgusted by your altruism, in the beginning. She sees no point in it and points it out readily to you
Deep down though, even in the beginning, she likes it and almost envies you for it. She feels bad for speaking down to you especially after she’s had time by your side
Shadowheart enjoys being doted on and care for. She enjoys that you treat your friends like family and that you’re all carving out a little place for y’all
She’ll pout if you’re fussing over someone more than her, though she tries to deny it
Lae’zel
Similarly to Shadowheart, I think at first Lae’zel would find your actions unnecessary and dragging. She’s on a time crunch and knows where she needs to go, and helping all these people isn’t helping y’all
I’m not sure Lae’zel would ever truly warm up to being so willing to lend a helping hand. But I think she would appreciate and commend (and come to respect) you for being able to care so deeply for others (she’s not so certain she’s capable of that magnitude)
Forces you to take care of yourself and won’t hear shit about it; no she didn’t cook this meal just for you to ignore it bc Shadowheart needs to traumadump some more, eat you doofus
Gale
Gale finds it endearing, if a little worrisome. He’s happy to let you fawn over your camp mates but he’s draws the line at being so easily swayed by strangers
He tries to be diplomatic when he’s urging you away from suspicious individuals bc he really doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like you need to change, he’s just trying to protect you to his best ability
Gale’s not particularly used to being doted on, but it’s almost…relieving, in a way. Refreshing?
He does work very hard to make sure you’re taken care of as well, cooking good meals and forcing coercing you to bed at a reasonable time
Wyll
heart eyes
Wyll himself sees (or wants to see) the world through rose colored glasses so he’s enamored that you do
He’s also probably one of the only ones to really understand your guilt over killing, even when necessary. He’s happy to talk you through your emotions over it and never hesitates to reassure you that you’re doing the right thing
flusters when your attention turns to him, but doubles it back in repayment to you
Astarion
Astarion seethes at first. He hates your tender-heartedness, hates how kind and soft you are, how loving you are with everyone, it’s just grinds against him
As he sorts through his trauma (and comes to appreciate your care, towards him and your friends at least) he stops whining about it…as much
He will absolutely shut someone down if they’re trying to use, manipulate, or fool you. Astarion only refrains from more…permanent silencing solutions because he knows you wouldn’t like it
He does, however, preen under your attention. True, no-strings-attached care? It takes him a long time to comfortable with it but he cherishes it
Halsin
While he certainly adores your tenderness, he tries to caution you over being too willing to blindly believe someone
Halsin is happy to comfort you through any remorse or guilt of course, but is quick to remind you that this is simply the way the world works
Watching you take care of your little band of misfits makes him melt. You care for them and then he cares for you when you come to him at the end of the day
Halsin would carry your burdens for you if he could, instead he’ll travel by your side and help you help others (while giving you looks that make you swoon let’s be real)
#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#halsin x reader#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#karlach x reader#lae’zel x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#bg3 x reader
105 notes
·
View notes
Text
angel part 3
pairing: louis bloom x f!reader
summary: louis takes his crush/neighbor out on their first date and gets a little carried away.
warning: this fic contains dark themes such as stalking, dubcon/noncon, smut and others. Read at your own risk. 18+ ONLY.
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
It's another hot night in Los Angeles.
You step out of your bathroom wrapped in your towel, fresh out of the shower. Rummaging through the messy closet that you've yet to finish organizing due to the move, you try to mentally plan your outfit.
Thinking about what to wear, you push between the hangers and through your clothes for a better look. You find a nice, short, red dress that's both casual and elegant enough for a first date. You match it with a pair of cute ballet flats that accentuate your feet and legs.
Meanwhile, Lou secretly watches you set out your outfit on the bed. There’s a certain thrill that he enjoys about watching you.
He thinks it’s rather sweet how naïve you are, but he’s also aware that it could lead you to potential danger in the wrong hands. That’s why he’s taking it upon himself to protect you.
He’s seen and filmed plenty of horrible things happen to the young innocent girls of L.A who unknowingly put themselves in harm’s way. He doesn’t want that to happen to you. Better than anyone else, he knows what evil men can be capable of. Whether you know it or not, you need him.
His tongue grazes his bottom lip as he watches you take your towel off. Your hair and make-up are all ready. Now, you just have to get dressed.
Hanging your towel over your closet door to dry, you walk over to the side of your bed to grab your favorite lotion from your nightstand.
With concentrated wide eyes, Louis watches from afar as you squeeze the scented lotion onto your palm. Propping your foot on the mattress, you rub the creamy lotion onto your shin first and gradually work your way up to your thigh.
Louis admires you as if admiring a work of art. The way your breasts dangle as you bend over to rub your shin, the folds on your stomach that bunch together, the curve of your ass when you switch your attention to the other leg, the way your ass jiggles when you rub the lotion over your cheeks.
"That's a great ass," he thinks to himself. “Why there though? Does she expect me to touch her there tonight? That would be too forward, wouldn’t it? Is this a sign that you want me too? Oh, you naughty little angel.”
He smirks at the hope of getting to go to fourth base with you again, but with you actually conscious this time.
He stops himself from getting too excited when he sees you putting on your underwear. The way you cautiously select a matching lacy pair indicates, to him, that there’s a strong chance he might get to see it. Just actually on you instead of in your drawer.
Forcing himself away from the window, he takes one last look at himself in the mirror. Adjusting his brown suit jacket, he decides to undo the top button of his white shirt hoping that his subtle flaunting of his chest will give out the signals he’s looking for.
Noting a couple of strands by his ear, he takes his comb to smooth them back into place. He gently presses his palm against the area after spraying a quick mist of hairspray to keep them there.
After a quick spritz of cologne behind each ear, he adds the stolen watch he’d taken from a security guard long before his days as a rising entrepreneur. It sits a little loose on his wrist, but he doesn’t mind it enough to take it off.
Stepping into his bathroom, he stares at himself blankly before opening the medicine cabinet. He takes the sleeping pills he’d used on you before and opens the orange bottle to take a couple of doses. Once they’re placed in a small plastic baggie, he crushes them up with the use of the cup on his sink he usually uses when brushing his teeth. Satisfied with their powdered fineness, he tucks the baggie into his wallet and closes the cabinet.
You come out of your apartment and walk out of the building to find Louis waiting for you outside with his hands tucked into his pockets. He flashes a genuine smile at you as you approach.
“Wow, you look spectacular, Y/N.”
“Thanks. I didn’t wanna overdo it” you smile shyly, pressing your cheek against his to greet him with a friendly kiss. He doesn’t quite kiss you back, surprising by the act, but he’s very happy about it because it’s a positive sign that you’re getting comfortable with him. “You smell really good, by the way. Are you wearing cologne?”
“Yes, I am. I hope it’s not a bother? Special occasions call for special measures.”
“Is this a special occasion?” you smirk up at him.
“Of course, it is. It’s not every day that I get to take the most beautiful lady in the complex out to dinner.”
Your cheeks warm at his compliment.
“It’s not a bother at all. I really like the scent actually.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. May I call you sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” you chuckle. You don’t think anyone’s ever asked your permission to call you a pet name, but you kind of like it. His wardrobe might be a little plain and a touch outdated, but his manners nearly make you wet.
“I thought we could maybe go to this place called Cabanita. They have the best beef fajitas” he smiles leading you over to his dodge challenger.
The cherry red color makes it impossible to miss. You'd noticed it when Matt whistled upond seeing it in the parking lot. You had no idea it belonged to a guy like Louis.
It was a big contrast to his rather timid personality. You would have guessed it belonged to someone little more obnoxious.
"This is your ride?" You ask trying to not look surprised.
"Yeah. Is that alright? I promise I won't drive above the speed limit if that's your concern" he chuckes opening the passenger door.
"Yeah, it's completely fine. Just a really nice car" you smile walking closer to slide into the passenger seat.
He thanks you for the compliment and walks around the front to slide into the driver's seat.
"Seat belt on?" You nod as he clicks in his before starting up the car.
As he pulls out of his parking space, your eyes wander around the vehicle. It's spotlessly clean and neat without a single wrapper lying around. The faint scent of pinewood radiates from the scented pine tree hanging from the mirror.
"So have you been there before?"
You hum looking over at him as he pulls out of your thoughts.
"Cabanita? Have you been there before?" He asks he drives out of the parking lot and onto the road.
"No, I haven't. I've heard about it though."
"Boy, are you in for a treat then. It's one of my favorite places. There's an excellent vegetarian empanada too, if you're not into meat."
"I suppose I'll have a hard time choosing what to eat then.”
"There's no rush anyway. The purpose of this is to get to know each other better after all, right?”
You nod in agreement.
"And they've got a great selection of drinks too. Of course, I won't be indulging too much. Alcohol and driving is never a safe combination."
You smile at him thinking about how your ex used to drink and drive. You like that he's responsible, not only with himself, but your presence too. He makes you feel safe.
"I really appreciate that. Maybe afterwards, we could have a night cap at my place? I mean, as long as you don't mind the mess. It's better than the last time you saw it, but there's still some things to organize."
He smiles widely at the thought of being in your apartment again.
"I would love that, sweetheart."
Upon arriving at the restaurant, you're led to a table for two by the polite hostess. Sitting in the rounded booth of your table, you look around the beautiful decoration of Mexican flair.
"This place is beautiful. I can't believe I've never been here before."
"Neither can I. Please don't this the wrong way, but I would assume a woman as beautiful as yourself would be often taken out on dates?"
You don't know exactly how to respond.
"I just mean that any man would be happy to take you out for a wine and dine."
"I don't know about that" your cheeks warm. "I haven't been on a date in a while, to be honest."
"That's a little hard to believe. I'd imagine you have guys lining up for an opportunity like this."
"I wish" you chuckle smiling widely at his flirtation. "It is really nice to be here tonight though. I'm glad we did this."
"I am too" he smiles.
You spend the rest of the evening sharing bits and pieces of personal information about yourselves. You tell him how you moved to California, where you're from and the area you work in.
He shares that he's a native to L.A and that he's a business man, specializing in news report filming. He also shares that his parents are deceased and jokes about you not having to deal with troubling in-laws when you apologize for his loss. It happened a long time ago and he was raised by his grandmother who is too no longer around.
You love how Louis listens to you and questions you, making the conversation naturally effortless. It’s a very pleasant change from the men you’d met over tinder giving online dating a chance.
Learning more about your hobbies, interests and area of expertise, Louis is hopeful that you’d make a great match. He strongly believes you’re a potential candidate for him to settle down with, but only time can confirm that. There’s still so much more he needs to revie, but his investment in you is already rather hopeful.
Once you've enjoyed your dinner and dessert over endless talks about each other, you both agree to head back to your place for a night cap.
When he walks into your apartment, he tries to act like he's never been there before. Like everything is new and he doesn't already know all the books or CDs you have on your shelf. Or the shampoo and perfume you wear. Or what your favorite cereal is. Or where you store your undergarments.
No, he doesn't know any of that. He's seeing it all for the very first time.
With a wine glass in hand, you invite him to sit on the couch with you and continue your conversation about the lovely experience you had at the restaurant and how lovely the food and environment were.
It's obvious that there's a slight tension in the air when he sets his hand on your thigh. You're not quite sure why, but it feels a little fast.
You've only just met the man, gone on the first date just now. And given your history of relationships, you've had a pattern of rushing into the sex.
You don't want to give off the wrong impression about yourself and you actually like Lou. He's polite, thoughtful and didn't keep making sexual passes at you over dinner like the other guys.
It was actually really nice to finally be able to sit down and talk to someone who genuinely wanted to get to know you for who you are and not just your body.
There's still something that you can't quite explain that makes you uneasy about him, but the fact that you can't quite pinpoint it makes you believe that it might be just you projecting your fears onto him. It has been a while since you've dated; this was your first date in months.
You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and hope he won't pick up on your hesitance.
Louis knows something is making you uncomfortable. He doesn't know what. He knows he'll have to work harder and longer to gain your trust, to ensure that you feel completely safe with him before you can invite him into your bed. But that's ok, he doesn't mind the wait. He can be patient when he needs to.
When you come back to the small living room, he's stood adjusting his suit jacket.
"Are you leaving?"
"I hope you're not offended" he nods. "I just got a call from my employee. I have to go, but I was hoping we could maybe do this again sometime?"
"Yeah, a-alright. I'd love to" you nod masking your disappointment. You're almost sure you blew it. He's never going to actually come back.
"Thank you so much for tonight. I really enjoyed our talk and I look forward to getting to know you even better."
"So do I" you nod forcing a smile at him as you follow him to the door. "Stop by whenever. I'm home every day after 6."
As if he doesn't already know your schedule.
"Will do, sweetheart. I apologize again, but I promise I'll make for it. "
"There's no need. It's work."
"Yes, that's true. And I do love the service that I provide, but I think I've been begun to enjoy your company even more."
You smile surprised at him as you open the door. He leans down to mimic your very first act and presses his cheek against yours to kiss you goodbye.
You sigh as the door closes behind your back and shake your head. Part of you wishes you had caved in. Why shouldn't have you? You were flirting, he was into you. All the signs were there.
Regretfully taking your wine glass from the coffee table, you chug down its remaining content. There's a bitter taste to the wine. It just must've been out or opened for too long. It could be time to get a new bottle.
You take the glasses to the kitchen to give them rinse and set them on the drying. Then, you walk over to the closet to remove your dress and bra and change into your pajamas which consists of an oversized t-shirt and the cute lacy panties you’d picked out.
To be fair, Louis did actually have to work. Although the date had ended, his night was only getting started.
It’s only 2 a.m when he comes home from another adrenaline-filled night. Despite the rush of speeding from neighborhood to neighborhood, he isn’t all too tired. Not for you, at least.
Making his way to his window, he looks into your apartment to make sure you’re fast asleep. Content with the fact that you are, he takes his fun time kit and makes his way to your front door.
Quietly breaking into your apartment again, just as easy as before, he closes the door behind him and makes his way over to your bed. With his camcorder in hand, he stares down at you hungrily.
You're on your side with your back to him. Your shirt is just slightly hiked up from the position, revealing a bit of your stomach. You don’t even feel it when he traces his finger up your thigh and over the arch of your ass to test the effect of his dosage.
It’s the same amount as last time, so he’s confident you won’t wake up. But the issue is that he didn’t see you take the sedative this time. For all he knows, you could’ve tossed the wine out instead. It’s a risk he’ll willing to take as he palms the knife – his last resort – in his pocket.
Judging by the TV that’s still on, he believes you did take it. The more he's watched you over the past few days, the more he believes you were made for one another. You don't get out much. Friends aren't over all the time. It's mostly just you alone in your apartment doing chores or watching TV, and you never sleep with it on.
He smirks at the panties that perfectly accentuate your ass, making it look plump and rounder. They look so pretty on you; he doesn’t want to take them off even though he’s anxious to drill his cock into your pussy.
As he films, he slides his middle finger down the crack of your ass and slowly moves it towards your pussy. His eyes alter back and forth from your face to your ass. He wants to be sure you don’t wake up, but there’s no movement so far. Your breathing is just as steady as before.
Smirking to him with wide eyes, he quickly unbuckles his belt and pants and lets his cock spring from its confines. Feeling more confident than the last time, he sets the camera down on the bed in order to strip down and undress.
Once completely naked, he takes his camera in hand again and aims the focal point back to your ass. He lifts the fabric of your panties to tuck his dripping cock underneath it, pressing it against your cheeks. A faint quiet “fuck” escapes from his lips.
He toys with his cock, enjoying how your ass and the lace feels against his hardened shaft. You’re just so warm and begging to be fucked.
Propping one knee on the bed between your legs, he hooks your panties with his finger to lift them and glides his glistening tip down to your plush pussy folds and back to your ass. He could come from this alone, but he wants to enjoy it for as long as he can.
You might not even know, but your body reacts to the head of his dick massaging your clit. You don’t move, too unconscious to even notice, but he can feel your pussy slickening with every stroke between your lips.
Stilling his hips for a moment, the camera shifts upwards to catch him lifting your shirt up over your breast. With a smirk, he flips the screen of the camcorder and sets it down near the corner of your bed angling it to capture himself and you from the front.
Happy with his angle, he’s able to finally focus on only you. He slides your panties to the side and slowly pushes his cock into your wet hole. The pleasure is so good that he has to stop and lean his head back with eyes shut tightly to hold himself back.
Slowly pushing and pulling to wet his dick, he finally bottoms out with a low groan. The tightness of your walls has him struggling to contain himself.
He leans down as he cups your breast in his hand and latches his lips onto your hardened nipple. He sucks and flicks his tongue over it, kneading the flesh with his hand hoping the distraction is able to make him last longer.
Standing beside your bed, his hips begin their slow thrusts as he straightens up. He keeps a hand on your ass to keep your cheeks open for his cock. The other stays on your breast for the sheer satisfaction of how squishy it is.
“Fuck, angel. You feel so fucking heavenly” he whispers to himself. “Could fuck you forever.”
Watching where your bodies connect, he pants and watches your pussy swallowing his cock with such ease. His balls grazing against your thigh only heightens his ecstasy.
His hips quicken until they’re snapping against your ass cheeks. He quickly glances at the camera screen to make sure the angel is filming every inch.
Feeling his orgasm approaching, he squeezes your ass and hips as his eyes move up and down to watch your jiggling breast and your swollen pussy lips engulfing his dick. He hates that he can’t fucking cum inside you. You feel too good to pull out, but he does regardless and lets his ropes of white cum squirt in the crack of your ass instead.
It’s a win-win to him. He doesn’t cum inside you but he still gets to have your warm flesh milk him of every drop.
Stepping back to catch his breath, he holds your panties with one hand to film your ass painted white with his load. He zooms in as close as he can to capture his seed drip between your cheeks.
Stunned by the fact that you haven’t even budged, he sets the camera down. He carefully rolls you onto your front, lowers your panties to your ankles and parts your legs as wide as he can.
Taking the camera once more, he watches with wide eyes as his cum slowly trickles onto and between your pussy lips, making you look so juicy and creamy for him. He can’t help but set his camcorder aside and position himself on your bed to lower down and lick it up.
His tongue prods at your creamy cunt as his hands squeeze your ass, thumbs parting your sore lips open to lap at all the juices oozing from you. He circles your clit. His tongue licks at your folds over and over again to capture every drop of his salty load and sinks as far as it can into your pussy.
Moving upwards, he parts your cheeks to glide his tongue between them and licks up the mess, poking the puckered hole with his tongue. He can only imagine how good fucking your ass must feel. He doesn’t want to do that just yet, he wants you to be awake for it because he knows it could be painful. He’s not an animal, of course.
His cock does twitch and hardens at the thought of fucking your ass.
Spitting on your pussy, he rolls you back onto your side before lying down beside you. He takes the camera to film himself lying beside you, as if you’re a couple. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your conditioner. He smiles to himself as he kisses your neck and shoulder, admiring how cute you look together on the screen of the camcorder.
Positioning it on the bed, he aims the lenses of it up at your cunt and his cock for the perfect angle of his dick slipping back into you for another round.
Tonight, he plans to test his limit and see how much he can really get away with.
His cock slips past your pussy lips again and fucks you harder this time, letting his balls slap against your clit and add to the delicious vulgar sounds that fill the room.
Once his orgasm builds up again, he holds your thigh tightly and pulls his cock out to simply glide between your drenched lips, cumming on them.
His load slickens your thighs, so he holds them closed and fucks them slowly to ease himself down from his high, altering from your supple thighs and wet cunt.
He swears he could fuck you like this all night, and he just might.
#louis bloom#louis bloom x you#louis bloom x reader#louis bloom x y/n#lou bloom#lou bloom x you#lou bloom x reader#lou bloom x y/n#nightcrawler#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal fanfic#jake gyllenhaal fanfiction#jake gyllenhaal smut
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Have you ever thought about why your marriages fail?" House asks when they're three bottles deep into the Friday night.
"Because they stop needing me?" Wilson quotes House back at himself. He has long kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, because he knows he's not going home tonight. "You explained that to me many times."
"Because they're women." House shoves a handful of red M&Ms in his mouth.
Wilson frowns. "Is that-"
"You're gay," House continues and for a second Wilson thinks he might have misheard him.
"I'm… not?" Wilson asks, the world twisting and turning around him. His heart sinks, because he isn't negating, he's negotiating.
House digs through the package, probably searching for red M&Ms, because he always eat them first. "Your denial is getting boring."
"What?" Wilson grabs the M&Ms from him. "I'm not gay."
"You checked out my ass today," House says, trying to get the M&Ms back. "Like you did regularly for the last decade."
Wilson flushes. He does take a look, occasionally. But he always feels so ashamed and -
Oh. God.
"Bingo," House agrees like he can see the crisis on Wilson's face. Which apparently is the case, because he seems to notice things Wilson doesn't.
"You didn't tell me?" Wilson makes it his mission to distract himself by finding the last red M&Ms and eating them. If he hears House grumble about it he pretends not to.
"At first I thought you knew," House throws his hands in the air. "And then you got married again and again."
Wilson tilts his head, a new horizon expanding in front of him. "And that bothered you?"
"Of course it did, Jimmy. Don’t be ridiculous." House sighs. "Gimme the M&Ms."
Wilson gives him a few green ones. House makes a face.
"So, did you check out my ass, too?" Wilson asks, liquid courage taking over.
"Jumpin' on the first guy that makes a move on you?" House is trying to hide his excitement, but Wilson can see the slight tremble of his hands.
"You flirted with me for years," Wilson realizes. He puts his hand on House's cheek. "You waited for me to-"
"Shut up," House says - and kisses him. It's familiar, it's new, it's House. How can Wilson stop now?
#torn between bisexual and gay wilson forever so i choose none and write stories for both#hilson#gregory house#james wilson#house md#hatecrimes md
52 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’ve come to the conclusion that the day I stop connecting Taylor Swift songs to Mike Faist is the day I’m dead. I know you said you don’t listen to her but walk with me here:
In her song Sweet Nothing, there’s a line: “and the voices that implore you should be doing more, to you I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it.”
And it’s giving famous!reader being absolutely picked apart by the media/public for no reason at all, absolutely needing a soft place to land, and he is definitely that for her ❤️ (I’m in my sad girl era idk I need comfort)
Thank you for listening 😭
A big reason as to why Mike is reluctant to expand his celebrity stature more than it is now, is because he sees what she goes through daily, and quite frankly, he wants nothing to do with it. It looks like hell. If it’s not the harassment – online, or in person – it’s the stalking, the complete and utter disrespect for her safety. What do you mean she can’t go to the store by herself out of fear she will be followed home? In the early years of their relationship, she hid out at his apartment for a week because paparazzi were camping out in front of her apartment after a scandal broke.
For her, Mike is her safety net. He is her safe haven. She carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, but when she is with him, she feels it dissipate. He is the sun breaking through on a cloudy day.
I think it’s a big reason why he seems very closed off when attending public events, like premieres or the MET. The people who are begging to talk to him, to get his picture, to know who he is wearing, are the same people scrutinizing and picking apart every single fucking thing his girl does, all while she is just trying to breathe. She handles it well, but he doesn’t.
Once they are back in the hotel room, she can finally take a deep breath. He sees that invisible blanket dispel, and finally, his girl has returned.
He holds her tighter after these kinds of nights; they’re exhausting, and far too consuming. She lies between his legs, her head resting on his lower stomach, as he runs his fingers through her hair, feeling her drifting to sleep. It comforts him in these moments because nothing hurts her here, and for this little time, she is safe.
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crossposted to ao3
The morning after Frosty Fair Festival, Jace summons Porter to the principal’s office.
“I’ve been VP for five minutes, and I find out that one of the fucking Bad Kids is taking three simultaneous years of artificer class? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You can’t pin that on me, Stardiamond.” Porter’s laugh is easygoing, and he’s only half paying attention as he watches the smoke trail from the cigarette he’s waving around. “I tried to dissuade him. He put himself through that.”
“But you won’t sign his MCAT. Do you want his annoying little truant friend to hate you?”
Porter laughs. “Miss Faeth isn’t a truant, I’ve been taking attendance for her in barbarian classes nearly every day."
He takes a long drag. “Of course you have.”
“Miss Faeth hates me no matter what I do. If she hasn’t caught on to what’s going on by now, I think you can breathe. Besides, I like a challenge. Something you could stand to learn.”
He tries to take another drag, but his hands are shaking, he’s so mad. There’s a clenching in his chest where the shatterstar is placed, then a pain that radiates outward. He winces. “Be it from me to question your teaching methods, but. Do you know what the Bad Kids did to the last vice principal?”
“Hey. I brought you back once. I can do it again.”
“I—” He doesn’t want to talk about that right now. He’s not ready to talk about it. “Tell me, does getting chewed out by a devil because one of his best bloodrush players is swamped sound like a good time to you? Jawbone recommended I look into xanax, that’s how wired I’ve been. And that was before I got ‘promoted’.”
“I’m sure you could get your hands on some if you attended one of his orgies.”
“Go to hell.”
“Likewise.”
They glare back and forth. Jace is used to getting into tiffs with Porter, but this—this is real.
When he opens his mouth, his voice is quiet. “I don’t see why you can’t just sign the kid’s fucking MCAT.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the whole impassioned speech,” says Porter, “It’s nice to see you actually riled up about something once in your silver-spoon life, maybe finally you’ll start giving a fuck.”
“I’m not riled up,” says Jace, but he’s working to keep his voice steady.
He’s used to the assumptions about his life, and he’d much rather keep up appearances than let a soul know about his estranged parents or the mind that’s trying to kill him. That’s the thing about sorcery—when your power is innate, you can never stop being grateful. If things are fucked, they could always, always be worse. He has to be unassuming. He likes being unassuming, because a gift is not a threat. And if his student’s can see that this scary thing they can’t help doesn’t have to rule their life, then, yeah, he’s ok with being a little bit of a joke.
At least, he was ok with it, before Porter Cliffbreaker broke him and shoved a shatterstar into his gaping chest wound and gave him a choice: rage or oblivion? He made his choice. He can’t back out now. So doesn’t Porter see he’s trying to look out for him? “I just think it would make things so much easier—”
“For who? You? Pardon me for treading on your cushy little gig.”
“Oh, we’re way past that.” Eight months past, to be exact. His mind is drifting back fondly to bleeding out in the Mountain’s of Chaos. He’s grateful that it’s so early in the morning, that no one is around to cast Detect Thoughts.
“Thistlespring could use a little tough love. That’s just the way I teach, now that you’re in charge, you’re gonna have to deal with it. He’s an orc, Stardiamond—barbarism is in his blood. He just needs to apply himself. I mean, you’ve seen the kid play bloodrush, he’s a beast.”
He grimaces. Something about the way Porter is speaking, he can’t place it, but he feels sick to his stomach.
“Right,” says Porter, clearly misjudging the expression on his face. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt for you to show a little school spirit.”
Jace laughs sharply.
“Well. He’s a beast you’re gonna find yourself on the wrong side of if you don’t watch yourself. You know how The Bad Kids are—they worm their way into everything, and the goblin that Kipperlily hates, he’s the worst of all. You know, he ate—Forget it. I just. I don’t want you getting—” He stops just short of saying it. As much as Porter has personally fucked him over, he’s in it too deep. Despite everything, Jace cares about him. He’s just so tired of trying to make things work. “If… this plan is so important to you, you have to be a little more tactful and a little less—you.”
“You think I can’t take care of myself, Stardiamond?” Porter flashes an infuriating grin.
“I didn’t say that. I just said… Be careful.”
“I appreciate the feedback and the personal concern, veep, but trust me when I say you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way with this one.”
His face is burning up, and he’s certain he’s a humiliating shade of red. Jace doesn’t even have to say anything. Porter knows what a low blow that is.
“Yeah, well,” mutters Jace. “Multiclassing is not for everyone.”
“Right.”
Jace is a good sorcerer. So good that it’s hard to articulate to his students what to him is second nature. He’s not the kind of teacher who does lesson plans precisely because he was never the kind of student who needed to study. It’s eerie how much Porter in these moments reminds him of his own teacher—the kind of teacher who praises his natural gifts all day and was absolutely resistant to him looking into other classes because he viewed it as a waste, as noncommittal, as proof of his lack of dedication.
Jace never got his MCAT signed. And he was… not prepared for the sheer volume of work required for even early level wizardry. He wanted it; he wanted to be the kind of dedicated person who could put in the work. Maybe his teacher had been right, maybe he wasn’t very bright, and maybe he hadn’t been cut out to be a wizard, but it did feel a little like he was thrown in the deep end and told to swim just to prove a point. He’s always been a slave to his impulses. And in the end, he ran back to sorcery where they welcomed him back with open arms because it felt good to be good at something.
He can feel the thrum of the shatterstar in his chest, anger coupled with shame. He hates himself for being Jace Stardiamond. He’s always taken the path of least resistance.
He’s not even sure he could call himself a good sorcerer anymore. He’s never been the kind of wizardly person who innately finds the joy of learning and discovery. He’s never found it all that rewarding. But sorcery does require a kind of self-knowledge, a certainty of oneself that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Whoever he is right now is a stranger, buried under several feet of bitterness and self-loathing.
“What’s it to you? You don’t even give a fuck about your own students, have you gotten a soft heart about little Thistlespring all of a sudden?”
“I don’t give a fuck about Thistlespring! Don’t you get it?”
“Look, if he confronts me on it, I’ll sign the damn MCAT. Happy? I was only resistant at first because—well, I mean, have you heard that ridiculous song he sings? The kid’s not very bright.”
He doesn’t answer.
“I’ll get it done if it means that much to you. C’mere.”
Porter takes Jace by the hands, pulling him in so that he can wrap his arms around Jace’s waist.
“We’re at school—” says Jace, but his protests are half-hearted. He turns his head, and he can feel Porter’s lips press up against his cheek.
“Listen to me.” Porter takes his face in his hands. “I have everything under control. The Bad Kids are nothing, Jace. Trust me. They’re twig gremlins. Maybe I got a little overinvested. I can’t help it, I need recruits, and the kid’s a natural. But that’s not everything. He’s too… Too timid. Afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Embracing his power.”
“Are… Are we still, um—” Porter’s gaze on him is so intense, Jace forgets what he’s saying. But that drive that he sees in Porter, that deep need to push, to optimize, to always be the best—it’s always been a source of deep frustration for Jace. But he can’t deny those are the same traits that make Porter so easy to admire. Maybe it’s just a wish, but he swears he can see the same admiration mirrored in Porter’s expression.
He can feel himself being reeled back in. His life is currently a living hell, but something in him has always felt compelled to be worthy of Porter’s admiration.
He wishes he could be the kind of person Porter wants him to be. He worries that there is no ascendant version of him, that this really is all his potential, plain and simple. But he’ll try. For Porter, he wants to be great.
They can hear footsteps on the other side of the door. Time for school.
Porter is quick to change gears. He coughs, clearing his throat as Jace is quick to step away. “Tell you what—I’ll get that straightened away, Stardiamond. I’ll sign the papers. Things were a little rocky at first, but you know what? He earned it, after the damn display of frosty fair. He’ll make a great… adventurer.” He’s watching. “You know. When the time comes.”
Jace sighs, but it does nothing to help release the tension in his chest. Yeah. Frosty fair. He has to make the announcement about that soon. He can feel a headache coming on just thinking about it.
Porter kisses him, but Jace is quick to brush him away and toward the door. “You need to go.”
Porter grins, and Jace can feel his heart skipping like he’s some teen adventurer with a schoolyard crush. “Tell me some things aren’t worth a little risk.”
“Well, I have to give a speech,” says Jace, following Porter out of the office. Jawbone waves at them, and Jace nods as he shuts the door behind them.
“Hey. You’re gonna knock it out of the park, alright?” He gives Jace a punch in the shoulder, and it’s so awkward that Jace would be charmed by it in any other circumstance. Like they’re amicable co-workers and not the bad guys. Like they’re not intertwined, Porter’s rage making a comfy little home in his ribcage. “We’re all looking to you, now, Stardiamond. It’s a heavy burden, but I can’t think of anyone else I’d trust more to handle the responsibility.”
Jace doesn’t bother to check his insight. If Porter says it, he’s ready to believe it.
#starbreaker#jace stardiamond#porter cliffbreaker#fhjy spoilers#dimension 20#fantasy high#emotional abuse tw#jaceporter#jan.fic#long post#the sliver of time for this convo to have happened (post-grix post promotion pre-MCAT signing is so small that it's actually funny#this is kinda a fic and kinda a meta. A lot of the stuff abt jace is like pure speculative / headcanon etc etc tho#jan.mine
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
my nominations
for race line awards !
took me some good times to dive back into my ao3 history:) at this point i guess this couldn't be regarded as "lines" anymore, but anyways-- i've enjoyed myself while doing this:) thank you sooo much for bringing up this awards
love notes in the kitchen (say it all) - @/formulaes (mark/sebastian)
Mark bent down to pick up the ring. What the fuck?, he thought, what the actual entire fuck? He turned the ring over in his hands, noting a small engraving on the inside of the ring: Love You Forever. Mark might actually be going into shock. No fucking way had Sebastian just proposed to him through the romantic medium of eating all his chocolate (again) and leaving an engagement ring as an IOU.
postcards from places that miss you - @/streetlightsky (sebastian/charles)
My poor English cannot describe how much I adore the title like it expressed the context and Charles's feelings sooo well. I felt the peacefulness and caught on an sensational hunch throughout my reading. Very recommend for when you wanna escape tough life out there.
love notes in the kitchen (say it all) - @/formulaes (mark/sebastian)
He doesn’t say Multi 2-1, but they both know it’s what he means. Once upon a time a statement like that would have made Mark seethe with rage, but now it just makes him laugh and pounce at Seb, grabbing him in a bear hug and lifting him off the ground with a playful growl.
“Ah! Mark!” Seb shrieks, “Mark! No, put me down! I’m innocent!”
He shakes Seb around playfully, ignoring the clang of the tin as it hits the ground and peppering his face with kisses, “Stop.” kiss “Eating.” kiss “My.” kiss “Chocolate.” kiss.
Seb is giggling like a maniac, pretending to try and escape from Mark’s embrace as his feet finally touch back down to earth.
Cut open your Heart - @/Lovely_Lotus (carlos/oscar)
His eyes follow Oscar as he bends down to pick something up, his back muscles flexing and accentuating where Carlos left his marks behind.
But Carlos is unable to appreciate it. He is transfixed by the thing Oscar picks up. It's Carlos’ clothes. The 55 displayed proudly on the fireproofs. But there's something wrong with them. Only when Oscar puts them on does he notice that they are red.
Weren’t they blue before?
Oscar doesn’t seem to notice, nor does he seem to care. He takes one last look at him that Carlos can’t decipher. Unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Carlos behind to bleed out.
To Lando… - @/Lottie1824 (lando/oscar)
Not long until the end of the season now. I think I can do this and I can feel you with me every step of the way.
Love you forever and always
Oscar.
5 times lando came into oscar’s room and told him he was bad at hugging plus one time oscar went into lando’s room and gave him the best hug of his life (by fall out boy) - anonymous user (lando/oscar)
“I don’t want to skip the sprint though,” Lando said. “I don’t want to let people down.”
“Taking care of yourself is not letting people down,” Oscar said.
“Which is why you're here to help me,” Lando said, attempting to smile.
“I’ll help you as best as I can, but I’m not a professional so I might make it worse.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Lando said, his eyes dark and serious. “I trust you, Oscar.”
cherry - @/helioslover (max/charles)
Max hates planes. Max also hates being too shy to ask the stewardess for a night mask so that he could sleep through the flight. Max hates knowing who’ll be picking him up at the airport. Max also hates the way he is happy to see a familiar face in a country where he doesn’t know anyone, even if it is this familiar face. But Max mostly hates the way he is eager to see Charles.
amaranthine - @/kjstark (carlos/charles)
Fate smiles at them again. And when the sun hits Carlos on the face during the anthems, his eyes don’t burn. You see: his teammate is Charles Leclerc, he’s used to the blinding light.
he just turned in like i didn’t exist - @/linearity (carlos/oscar)
You see, Oscar doesn’t have a problem with his soulmate. It’s his soulmate who has the fucking problem.
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
ghost in the machine
summary: Matsukawa x F!Reader. sometimes two people love each other very much. sometimes they do terrible things to each other.
word count: 1k
cw: cheating, extremely toxic relationship, no one here is likable, breakup, no happy ending
a/n: my bad i was going through something. sorry to the seijoh community. enjoy?
Issei meets you at the train station. It's dry now, but it was raining earlier—his hair is sticking to his face, curling even more than usual in the humidity. He doesn't "believe" in using umbrellas, whatever that means, or in standing beneath the rain shelter, apparently.
"Hey," you say, affecting nonchalance. The look on his face is familiar to you, signalling further storms ahead. You put your hands in his and press your mouth into a little frown. "What's wrong?
"Don't act cute," he says, glancing away, but he doesn't take his hands out of your hold. "This is—hard enough."
Issei does this thing, when he's mad at you, taking longer and longer pauses as he speaks. Leaves you hanging and still chooses all the wrong words.
"Issei, what happened?" You say. You look around, but there's no one else at the station: it's a dismal day, and his workplace is out of the way of pretty much all other human life. Fitting.
He rubs a thumb over yours, slow, pensive.
"I'm just gonna rip the band-aid off," he says, and you almost snort. There's been nothing quick about this process. "I think we should stop seeing each other."
"Another break?" You ask, trying to keep your voice light. "So you can fuck your new building receptionist?"
That's not light. Oops.
"How do you—whatever. No. That's not it. Don't be like that."
"It's what it was last time," you say, frustrated. "And Makki mentioned that he thought she was hot, which means you think she is."
"I don't, and that's not even the point," he sighs. "See, this is what I mean."
"You do," you insist. "But what is your point?"
"My point," he grits, thumb rubbing harder, strong fingers digging into your flesh so hard it almost hurts. "Is that we need to end this. Not a break. We need to break up."
"No," you say, blinking away tears. "I thought we were working on things. I thought we were better."
He pauses again. You let yourself fill up with big, stupid hope, leaning a little closer to him. All you want is one of his hugs, warm and solid and loving. Love me, you want to sob, you don't love me?
You don't, because you would be proving his point. You don't want to guilt him. You don't want to hurt him. You feel nauseous. The whole world is wrong, everything is going wrong.
He doesn’t give you what you need.
"I feel sick," he echoes your thoughts. "All the time. What we're doing to each other—I care about you, I want you to be happy. We—I don't make you happy."
"You do," you plead. "No one else makes me happy like you."
"But that's, like, five percent of the time," he says, jerking you a little closer. You know it's subconscious and it makes you emit a little noise, soft, one you don't want him to hear. "The rest of the time we, we fight, and we get petty, and we act like kids. It's not what it should be."
"I don't care what it should be," you flash. "I don't want whatever it should be. I want this. I think it's worth it. I want to fight for it."
"Well, I don't!" His eyes are burning. You think there's something shimmering in his waterline. "I'm tired. It's—you jerk me around like bait, on a string. I am tired of taking breaks, and getting back at each other, and—"
"I jerk you around?" You say. "Issei, you suggested the first break, you slept with—"
"I know what I did," his voice sounds defeated even as you can hear the underlying anger—deeper, the underlying hurt. "That's what I'm saying, we're damaged, I really don't care whose fault it is."
"Except you clearly think it's mine," you argue. It’s fucked up, that this is what fighting for your love means; how twisted has your knight-and-princess story become?
“Shut up! Just stop—just stop talking for a second.” You press your fingers tentatively to the right corner of his temple and rub small circles into the skin, knowing that’s where he gets headaches from grinding his jaw when you’re driving him crazy. He lets you for a moment, then shakes his head, bats you away. “You shouldn’t let me talk to you like that.”
“I won’t,” you say. “You won’t talk to me like that anymore.”
“That’s so fucked up,” he chokes out a laugh. His dark eyes crease so prettily when he does. “Don’t do that. With the next guy—”
“There’s no next guy!” You yelp, fingers flexing, not sure what to hold on to. If he’s letting go of his jealousy—the world tilts dizzily. He used to tell you, face in a lazy cat smile, body warm and heavy atop yours, that you’d find your next boyfriends on his mortuary table. “What, Issei, there’s not gonna be anyone else ever.”
His lips twist into a sardonic smile. He lets go of you, his hands shaking like he’s just been shocked, cartoon-style, electricity working its way through his body. You reach for him and he shoves his hands in his pockets, lets you stumble over your feet.
“I know you slept with Makki,” Issei says grimly. You stop in your tracks.
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he agreed. “Yeah.”
There’s not a lot to say to that. It doesn’t matter that it was during the worst breakup, a year ago, that it was because you’d seen him kissing one of your friends at a party. It doesn’t matter that it had been a mistake.
“I’m sorry,” you say, and the tears are rolling down your face again. Or it’s started raining. Both. “I’m so sorry. I know.”
There’s an awful screech when the train arrives—his train, going deeper into the country. Yours, back to the city, is due in eight minutes. You can’t stop anything from leaving this station.
“It’s okay. It’s like you said,” he puts his hands on his shoulders, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips wet with cold rainwater. When did it start pouring? “He thought she was hot, so so did I. I love you, so so did he.”
#makki might be the true victim in all of this#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq!! x reader#hq angst#haikyuu!! angst#hq!! angst#haikyuu angst#matsukawa angst#matsukawa issei x reader#matsukawa x reader#matsukawa issei x reader angst#matsukawa issei angst#mattsun x reader#mattsun x reader angst
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
Revenge
KTH X Reader
Summary: When your friend starts acting better than you, you decide to get back at her by seducing her boyfriend.
Genre: Mostly smut, angst, fluff
Warnings: unprotected sex, dom!Tae x sub!reader, rough-ish, slight choking, comparison, oral (m & f), boob play, aftercare.
A/N: lmk if y’all want a part 2 and if u have any requests feel free to send them in!
“I’m on my way, are you home?” You spoke to your friend through your phone, making your way to her apartment. Except, you knew she wasn’t home. She had classes until 5pm and it was 3:30 now.
“I still have class for more than an hour,” she sighed into the phone. “But Taehyung is home today so he can let you in. I’ll let him know.” You smiled to yourself, but of course you knew that already.
“Alright, thanks!” You wished her good luck in her class and hung up, shoving your phone into your purse.
You purposely asked your friend to come over today because you knew she didn’t end classes until 5pm and her teacher always ran classes late, you also knew that on Wednesdays her boyfriend, Taehyung, was always home at noon.
Your friend had been a total bitch lately, inviting her boyfriend out on girls nights, acting like she’s better than you because of him and putting you down constantly. It wasn’t his fault of course, he was gorgeous and always apologized when she’d tricked him into going out with the girls.
Her attitude has been really getting on your nerves recently, and you knew exactly how to get her back. You had to get to her through her boyfriend, that was her most obvious weak point. If she ever knew her precious boyfriend was buried in some other girl it would ruin her, and it’s not like this is the first thing you’ve tried. She’d never reacted to you saying it to her face or making it obvious with body language, so this was a last resort that you weren’t opposed to.
You buzzed into the apartment and made your way to the top floor where your friend’s apartment was. You knocked on the door, shifting your bag slightly so that you could hike your skirt up a bit. It only took Taehyung a few seconds to open the door.
“Hey, y/n, come on in!” He moved to the side and flashed you a friendly smile.
“Hey Tae, sorry I’m so early.” You apologized, bowing your head slightly and moving past him.
“Oh don’t worry about it, you’re always a delight to have around.” He promised, following you as you sat down on the comfy leather couch. You took your bag off and set it on the coffee table, sending a puff of your perfume in his direction. “I- um..” he stuttered, thinking about what he was going to say. “I wanted to apologize about the other night, I have to stop going along with her.”
“It’s not your fault, Tae. It’s like she only calls these girls nights to invite you,” you raise and eyebrow at him, making him blush.
“What do you mean?” He asks, leaning closer subconsciously.
“We’ll all she does is talk about you,” you rolled your eyes. “Anytime I try to talk to her our conversation somehow always leads to her talking about you.”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a curiosity that you couldn’t fully read. “I didn’t know she spoke about me that much, it must be tiring hearing about me all the time.” He chuckled, you smiled back at him.
“Oh it’s fine, I think it helped me get to know you better,” you shrugged. He nodded, letting out an awkward laugh. “Do you mind if I have something to drink?” You asked, batting your eyes.
“Oh, yea of course.” Taehyung got up and you followed him to the kitchen. You went over to the window and leaned a little so that you could see farther, knowing your skirt was riding up.
“Do you want-“ you heard him take a sharp inhale and you turned to look at him. “Ice.” He finished. His cheeks were rosy and he tried his best to keep his eyes on yours and away from your ass.
“Sure thing,” you smiled at him innocently, standing up straight again. He nodded, swallowing hard and turning back to the fridge. The veins in his arms on the surface of his skin as he pressed the button for the ice. “Thanks Tae,” you took the glass and brought it to your lips.
He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “So uh.. what are you girls up to today?” He was referring to you and his girlfriend, you took a step closer to him, your hands brushing together on the counter. He left his hand there, not flinching away.
“She asked to hang out and I was only free today, we might go swimming.” You shrugged, you had your bathing suit on under your clothes, which weren’t very heavy to begin with. You wore a white dress shirt your dad gave you and a small flowy black skirt.
“Oh that sounds fun,” he said, barely paying attention when your fingers started playing with his own. Your fingers tangled with his, your hand fitting perfectly into his larger one. “Your hands are soft.”
“Yours are warm,” you replied, teeth coming out to bite your bottom lip. You pulled away and you heard him sigh, you finished your water and put it in the sink. You scratched your back, purposely pulling on the string of your bikini.
You gasped, reaching around with your opposite hand. “You okay?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, furrowing his brows.
“The back of my bikini came undone,” you pouted, starting to unbutton your shirt. “My roommate helped me tie the back, I can’t do it on my own.” His eyes widened when you pulled the front of the shirt open, your top barely covering your nipples, hanging loosely off your shoulders. “Can you help me?”
“Yea, sure.” He moved forward a little too quickly, he helped you get the shirt off your arms and he threw it on the counter behind him.
You took a step closer to him so one of his legs has between yours, his fingers gently brushed your back a few times while he was tying your top back on. His hands moved up to move your hair over your shoulder.
“Is that too tight?” He asked, running his fingers under the string.
“It’s perfect,” you turned back to face him. When you turned, you purposely stumbled over his foot and lost balance. He grabbed your hips and somehow ended up pinning you to the counter, you gripped onto his shoulders to stabalize yourself.
At that moment he lost it, the look in your eyes burning holes into his own. “You’re perfect,” he growled. Taehyung put his hands on the counter behind you, pressing his body against yours. “There’s no way you came here just to hang out with Aerra,” he licked his lips, smouldering eyes staring into your soul.
“You’re right, that’s not why I came here today.” Your eyes wandered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. “Aerra’s just been talking about you so much that I have to see what all the hype was about,” you admitted. “And I figured that this might stamp down her huge ego.”
“Huh, so you came here, dressed all slutty just for me, is that right?” He tilted his head, smiling at you with a mischievous hint. “I bet you purposely loosened your top huh? Just so I would touch you,” he tsked.
You moved your hands down his torso, hooking your hands in the waistline of his jeans and holding his hips against yours. “That’s right,” you licked your lips, thumbs rubbing the skin that was dented in the shape of his v line. “What are you gonna do about it? Gonna tell you shadow?” You pouted, mocking the man who was practically on top of you.
“You’re so wrecked,” he smashed his lips to yours. You moved your lips passionately against your own, hands creeping around his neck and to the back of his head, keeping his face close to yours. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, his warm hands squeezing your bare skin.
Taehyung moved his hands down to your hips, moving back for a fraction of a segment. “Jump,” he instructed. You complied immediately, and he lifted you onto the counter.
You grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him back against yours, one of his hands came to rest on your thigh. One of his hands came up to grip your face, he pulled away from you and held your head at an upward angle.
“You smell so good,” he breathed, attaching his lips to your neck with a neediness you’d never experienced before.
“Uh Tae,” you moaned, his soft lips sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck. His lips wandered from under your jaw to your shoulder, leaving red blotches that would likely turn purple. “I wonder what else your mouth can do,” your breathing was shaky as he pulled back.
“Yea baby?” His hand moved farther up your thigh, thumb slipping between the fabric of your bikini and your core. His thumb rubbing against your clit expertly, making your body twitch and grab onto his arm.
“Oh my god Tae, please, please I need you.” You begged, looking up at the man in front of you.
“Come with me,” he helped you off the counter and rested his hand on your ass, leading you down the hallway and into his bedroom. “Strip for me,” he demanded, moving past you to take a seat on the edge of the bed.
You poked your lip with your nail, your hands travelled down your body, pulling at the hem of your skirt. As soon as it was loose on your hips you let it slide down to the floor, you pulled the string of your bikini and pulled it over your head. “Closer, baby,” he requested.
You complied, moving close enough Taehyung so that you stood between his legs. His hands ran up your thighs, going up to your waist and settling on your hips, he was eye level with your tits.
He brought one of his hands up and squished your breast between his fingers, cupping it in his hand and moving closer. His lips brushed against the plush skin of your breast, sucking marks into the sensitive skin.
His tongue swirled around your nipple, feeling it stiffen in his mouth. His hand moved to your other breast, twirling your nipple between his fingers until it stiffened.
As soon as he popped his mouth off, you bent down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. Compliant, he raised his arms and let you pull his shirt over his head.
You crawled on top of him, pushing him down on the mattress and straddling his lap, you leaned forward, flattening your palms on his chest and bringing your lips back to his.
This kiss was softer than the one before, his lips were gentle on yours, making your stomach flutter. The kiss was so genuine that you forgot what you were trying to do in the first place.
You rolled your hips down on his, feeling the obvious tent in his pants. “You’d better not take your time,” he threatened. “Remember, you wanted this. Coming here, dressed like the little slut you are. So desperate, aren’t you?” He teased, diving back into your lips just to take one in between his teeth.
Taehyung grabbed your hips and flipped you over, kneeling over you, he looked into your eyes. His beautiful chocolate eyes were clouded with lust, lust curated just for you. “Just for you,” you whined. “Need you Tae, so bad.”
“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned. You bit your lip as he moved down the bed, watching as he unbuttoned his jeans and discarded them on the floor. Your mouth watered at the sight of the bulge in his boxers, he leaned back on the bed, pulling the strings on the side of your bottoms, throwing them over his shoulder.
Taehyung got on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hips and pulling your folds against your face with a roughness that made you clench around nothing.
“You like that baby? Like being manhandled by me, huh?” He teased, planting a chaste kiss to your folds, licking your taste off his lips. “Pretty pussys so wet for me, all mine.”
He licked a stipe up your core, making you shiver. “Oh fuck!” You moaned, hips bucking into his mouth in search for more. “Don’t stop, don’t stop. Uh please don’t stop!” You begged, reaching down to twist your fingers in his fluffy brown locks.
“Taste so good,” he groaned against your core. You opened your mouth to ask something, when he already had. “So much sweeter than Aerra,” his tongue dipped into your hole, causing you to clench around his tongue.
You felt him smirk against you, he forced his tongue in and out of you a few times before moving back up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so close,” you whimpered, feeling weak against his tongue.
Clenching more and more often, you felt a foreign warmth build up in your stomach. No man had ever made you feel that way before, you never expected this from him, although you weren’t surprised he was as good as he was.
Just when you were about to reach your release, you felt him pull away from your core. You whined, but Taehyung stopped you with a finger to your lips, hushing you. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you something better,” he promised.
Taehyung moved back and pulled his boxers off, you crawled towards him, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, this was a wonderful angle for him. “You want this cock, you needy slut?” He spat, taking his cock in his hand and slapping your cheek with his tip.
You nodded, opening your mouth for him. You stuck out your tongue, he rested the tip on your tongue, letting you suckle on the tip. You licked the pre cum from his tip, the bittersweet taste was addicting.
He pushed his hips forward, you took half of him before you couldn’t take anymore. You wrapped your hand around the part you couldn’t take in your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks around him, pulling a delicious moan from him. “Work that tongue, baby,” he groaned.
Taehyung wrapped his hand in your hair, pushing your head forward and making you gag on his cock. You worked your tongue along his slit, making him let out a lewd string of moans. “So good, so much better.” He held your head still and thrusted into your mouth. “That’s right, fucking cock slut.”
You moaned around his cock at the nickname, he pulled your hair down, forcing your head to look up at him. He looked into your doe eyes and felt as though he was in love, your beautiful eyes looking up at him so innocently while your mouth was filled with cock.
“Lay back,” he instructed, letting your hair fall loose as you leaned back and caught your breath. Taehyung climbed over top of you, gathering your slick and saliva and coating his cock, pumping it twice before lining the tip up with your hole. He pushed his tip in slowly, already earning a moan from you.
“So big,” you complained, wrapping your hands around his arms, which were on either side of your body.
“It’s only the tip, baby.” He cooed, fingers brushing with your own gently. “Be a good little slut and take it,” the softness in his voice disappearing almost completely.
You let out a whimper, he eased into you the rest of the way, you moaned lewdly as he bottomed out. “Holy fuck, you’re so big,” you moaned, feeling him stretch you open.
“And you’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling his hips back and thrusting back in harshly. “Such a pretty pussy, so tight, squeezes me so well, what a shame she doesn’t get taken care of.”
Dropping down to his forearms, your hands slid up to his biceps, which were clenched deliciously as he thrusted into you. “I bet she doesn’t make you feel this way,” you taunted, squeezing his biceps. “Bet her pussy doesn’t pull you in as good as mine,” you whined, staring up at him with a look of pure need.
“Fuck, you’re so innocent.” Taehyung groaned, speeding up the pace of his hips. His pelvis hit the back of your thighs and you were sure they were going to be red by the time he was done with you.
He pulled out, easily flipping you onto your stomach. “Get on your knees,” he harped, you propped yourself up on your knees. Taehyung’s hand came down and layed a smack on your ass, you let out a moan as his hand soothed the red handprint he left on your skin. “You’re kinkier than I thought, you like getting slapped huh? Want me to make sure you’re mine? Is that it?”
“Yes, yes!” You cried, feeling him push back into your core. “Dominate me, make me yours!”
A string of whimpers left your mouth as he picked up the pace, the bed rocked beneath you, but you didn’t care. Anyone working wouldn’t be home and even if they were, you didn’t care. All you wanted was him, you needed him. “You feel so good on my cock, baby. Wish I could have you on me all the time, wanna have that pussy whenever I want.”
The thought of him using you made you clench around him, making him let out a moan you were sure you wouldn’t forget. “Tae, Tae please let me.. uh please let me ride you!” You begged, looking back at him. He pulled his lip into a smirk, pulling out and sitting down on the bed. He leaned against the pillows and watched you crawl to him, he bit his lip when you straddled his lap, rubbing your lips against his length.
“Put it in, you slut. Ride me like you want it,” he instructed. You grabbed the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. You sunk down on his cock, you moaned, he watched as his cock disappeared inside you.
Taehyung’s hands ran up your thighs, massaging them as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down on his cock. You leaned into him, arching yourself against his chest and holding onto his shoulders. “Ride that cock, baby. How does it feel inside you?”
“Good, uh it’s so good!” You moaned, your legs shaking as you picked up your pace. His hand slipped between your bodies and found your clit, he rubbed circles around it was you bounced up and down. Your movements became sloppier, legs shaking the closer you got to your orgasm.
Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, holding you up and fucking into your hole with rough thrusts. He rolled you onto your back, wrapping his hand around your neck to pin you to the mattress. His hands squeezed the side of your neck, restricting your airflow enough that you could breathe, but just barely.
“So close, baby. So close to filling you up,” he moaned, the thought making you clench. “Look at that, look at my cock in your stomach.” You looked down, his cock creating a bulge in your stomach every time he bottomed out.
“Oh my god, Tae. Fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum!!” You cried, digging your nails into his arms, sure you left a mark.
“That’s right, you cum on my cock.” He told you, twirling his fingers around your clit, your thighs squeezed around his hips, trying to close from the pleasure.
With a tight squeeze of your walls around him, you came, moaning his name as your arousal dropped out of you. “Tae, so sensitive, fuck, Taehyung!”
You were losing your mind as his hips rutted into yours as hard as he could, chasing his own release. “Gonna cum in your pussy, gonna fill you up so much your walls are gonna be painted white.”
“Tae please, please fill me up.” You begged him, feeling so overstimulated you could barely register what was happening.
“Yes, yes, gonna cum!” He groaned, stilling his hips deep in your core and finally letting go. He moaned your name, spilling his seed in you. “Oh god you feel so fucking good, where have you been?” He took a deep breath and pulled out, laying down beside you.
Taehyung pulled you against his chest, you wrapped your legs around his, taking in a deep breath of his delicious cinnamon scent. “So, am I better?” You asked him, running your finger under his jaw.
“Fuck yes, best pussy I’ve ever had.” He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with a softness you weren’t expecting.
The two of you lay together for a minute or two, before he sat up and stretched. “What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his shoulders and using them to pull yourself up, your legs burning. “Whoof,” you rubbed your legs, trying to ease the pain.
“I figured that we should get cleaned up before Aerra gets home,” he gave you a smirk. “You might have actually convinced me to make a few decisions,” he stood up, scooping under your legs and waist to lift you into his arms.
His cum dropped out of you slightly, landing on his leg as he walked to the bathroom. Your arms were around his neck, snuggling close to his nape as he held you in his strong arms.
“You’re her whole personality, I’d love to see how she’d survive without you.” You joked, he chuckled and set you down on the counter.
Both of you got cleaned and back into your clothes just in time for Aerra to come through the door. She smiled and takes to you both, blissfully unaware.
At least for now.
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wille's Month - Music (Room)
day 29 ! @youngroyals-events
Ex-Prince Wilhelm, hoping to escape the turmoil following the end of the monarchy, enrolls in university in New York City. He meets fourth-year music student Simon Eriksson in a music room on campus. AU.
read below the cut or on ao3. (T, 2k)
It’s a random Monday afternoon in September when he first meets him. Well, first sees him.
Wille has been taking advantage of the rentable music rooms on Columbia’s campus, despite not technically being a music student. One day, enjoying the general listlessness of his new life in New York, no path, no expectations, he’s playing a tune on the piano that he still somehow remembers from his childhood. He must have gotten carried away, distracted by the music, because he jumps out of his skin when someone bursts through the thick, sound-proofed door.
“Listen, I just made it to the practice rooms so,” a voice is saying in– Is that Swedish? Wille turns around in surprise as the intruder halts, quickly ending his phone call and dropping his hand to hang loosely by his side. He switches to halting English to say, “Oh, sorry, I thought I had—”
Ever used to it, Wille notices the exact moment the recognition flooded the other’s face. He braces himself, feeling a bit sick because he hasn’t been recognized yet in New York, which has been a welcome change of pace, and also because this man is the most beautiful person Wille has ever seen.
This time, the stranger doesn’t bother switching to English to say, “Aren’t you—?”
He stands up abruptly, saying “I– Just, just Wilhelm,” then gives a curt nod and starts frantically collecting his things. Hesitating for a moment, he cools his expression, trying not to stare too hard at the man’s smooth skin and silky curls. “Forgive me, I must have lost track of time. I didn’t realize anyone had booked this after me. I’ll get out of your way.”
In a matter of seconds, he’s slipping out of the room, ignoring the warmth when his arm lightly brushes the stranger’s as he passes, and fleeing down the hallway.
Feeling guilty, he thinks about it the rest of the week, hoping he’ll run into the pretty man with the brown eyes and brown curls again so he can apologize. He’s back in the music room on Wednesday at the same time and he stays a few minutes after, but no one else arrives.
On Friday, he does the same, pacing the room as the last few minutes of his reserved time tick over. Just like Monday, the same man bursts through the door, looking slightly ruffled.
“Oh.” The man stands in the doorway again, awkwardly staring.
Wille comes to a stop next to the piano.
“Hej.”
“Uh,” the stranger glances over his shoulder, like he expects to find someone else standing there. “Hej.”
“I’m sorry, I was rude last time. I didn’t expect to—” He shakes his head and steps forward, extending a hand. “I’m Wilhelm.”
The man stares down at his hand for a moment, looking shocked, before slowly extending his hand.
“Simon,” he says, brown eyes boring into Wille’s. Wille tries not to think about how well Simon’s hand fits in his. Thankfully, he’s distracted by the other man saying, “You were kind of a dick.”
“Simon,” Wilhelm repeats, feeling both a slight grimace and an embarrassed flush rise on his face. “I am really sorry.”
Simon shrugs and his perfect mouth curls into a smirk. Wille’s shoulders sag a bit at the realization that Simon might be fucking with him just a little bit. That, he can deal with.
“I was hoping to run into you again,” he says earnestly, hoping to make up for his lack of manners earlier that week. “It’s nice to meet you. You… You speak Swedish?”
“I am Swedish,” Simon deadpans. Wilhelm’s cheeks blush pink again. “Half, at least. I was born there. We moved away when I was, like, 13.”
Wilhelm nods understandingly. At that moment, they both seem to realize that they’re still shaking hands. They drop each other's hands quickly, chuckling awkwardly. Wille feels the blush on his cheeks darken further, but he sees a slight pinkness appear on Simon’s cheeks, too, and feels a bit better.
“I have to admit, you caught me off guard.” Wille folds his hands behind his back and rocks a bit on his feet. “Most people here either don’t know who I am or don’t care.”
“Oh, I don’t care,” Simon says nonchalantly. Wille lets out a surprised laugh. “I just mean— I never really cared about the monarchy, you know. I thought it was a stupid waste of taxpayers’ money and upheld harmful traditions of the elitist class. I mean, I lived in a small town with a fancy rich-kid school. They all assumed the absolute worst of me and just solidified my theory that the upper class sees those below them as ‘less than’. The monarchy really only encouraged that mindset, I think. Rich people helping other rich people get more rich, perpetuating the gap. I wasn’t living in Sweden when the vote happened, but I would’ve voted for the end of it. Thankfully they didn’t need my vote, anyway, but—”
Trying to school his expression into something that hopefully doesn’t say I want to kiss you so badly right now – one, because that’s inappropriate and two, because they’ve quite literally just met – Wille pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and bites on it, hard.
The other man looks sheepish by the time he cuts off his own rant, then blushes and looks down at his feet. “Sorry, I just…” He trails off and Wille grins.
“It’s okay. You’re right. It was a harmful system. The vote passed for a reason.”
Simon tilts his head to the side, considering Wilhelm, which, is fair. Most don’t expect him to be staunchly against the institution that he was a part of for most of his life.
“What are you doing here?” Simon asks.
“Uh,” Wille glances behind him at the piano. “Practicing?”
The pretty man waves his hands, “No, here, in New York. But, yes, I suppose also why are you in the Columbia practice rooms?”
“Oh. I’m a student here. I wanted to escape Sweden for a bit after… everything. My, um,” Wille pauses, twisting his fingers together, “My brother and I always talked about taking a trip here when I turned 18, too. So… Here I am.”
A silence fills the room and Wille is grateful when Simon diverts the topic.
“Are you focusing on music then? What are you working on?” Simon rounds the room to look at the papers propped up on the piano. Wille feels suddenly embarrassed by the music sheets that are just messy scratches of black ink.
“It’s not really—“ Wilhelm rushes forward, collecting the sheets and shuffling them together. “I’m registered for sociology, but I haven’t really decided on a focus yet. This – the piano – is more of a… hobby. It was a hobby. I’m not really sure how I feel about it.” There’s another long pause and Wille blushes more, holding the papers to his chest. He looks down at his feet. “I wasn’t really allowed a lot of hobbies growing up, but music classes were required so I figured…”
“Right, that makes sense,” Simon says gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“No!” Wille bursts out, nearly dropping the sheets in the process, eager to reassure the other. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m just not very good so I…” He releases the music from his tight grip and shuffles them in front of himself, frowning slightly at the scribbles.
“I could,” Simon begins slowly, “take a look, if you want? This is kind of my whole degree. No pressure.”
Wille looks between the black ink and Simon’s face, chewing on his bottom lip again. Reluctantly, he slowly returns the paper to the music shelf. “I mean, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to steal your reserved time.”
Waving him off again, Simon slides onto the bench and begins to sort through the notes. “It’s fine. No one has this room booked after me so I can stay later. Like I said, it’s literally why I’m here.”
Simon looks up at Wille hovering over him and Wille looks down, thinking, oh fuck this is going to be a big problem isn’t it?
Before he can doubt himself any further, Simon says, “Show me how it goes so far?”
That entire weekend, this time not out of guilt but out of fascination, he thinks about Simon. He can’t help it. The beautiful man with his beautiful laugh, his snarky remarks and complete disregard for Wille’s past is the perfect storm for Wille immediately falling head over heels.
On Monday, he lingers awkwardly in the music room, praying Simon will show up. He does, much to Wille’s delight, and brushes past any lingering unease, offering to show Wille the production program he’s been learning about in class. Simon is very smart and a very good teacher, easily moving through the parts of the program and kindly explaining them to Wille without complication.
Apparently the program is rather large, because after only about ten minutes, Simon’s laptop slips into buffering mode. He frustratedly smacks the side.
“God, this dumb laptop,” Simon groans, tossing his head back. Wille does not look at the long, lean line of his neck.
Wille smiles at the dramatics, and says, politely, “I don't think hitting it will encourage it to work, Simon.”
Simon groans again and sends a scowl at him. “You don’t know what my computer likes.”
“I can’t imagine it likes being jostled around like that.”
Simon rolls his eyes and Wille laughs.
“Why don’t you leave it alone for a bit and let it work itself out?” he suggests, wanting to reach out to comfortingly pat Simon’s shoulder but not knowing if they’re to that point, yet. “We can do something else?”
Shrugging, Simon puts the laptop down on the piano and folds his arms, glaring at it like he’s willing it to work.
Motivated by the rapport they’ve established, and itching to learn more about Simon, Wille asks, “Do you like it here?” He’s embarrased by how shy and timid his own voice sounds.
Simon turns to him and studies his face.
“Do you like it here?”
Wille holds eye contact for as long as he can, before looking away to stare at his shoes. There’s something about Simon’s stare that pierces his soul and completely disarms him.
“Yeah.” It sounds a bit like a question, which it kind of is, because he’s unsure if he’s telling the truth but also doesn’t know if he’s lying. He steels himself enough to look back up to meet Simon’s eyes.
New York has been fine, a nice change of pace at the very least, but he’s still lonely. A different type of lonely, but no matter how far he flees, his brother is still dead and the monarchy is still gone and he still has no idea what his future was going to look like. (Now, though, for the first time in a long time, thanks to brown eyes and a blinding smile, he has some idea of what he might want it to look like.)
“What did you want to be?” Simon blurts, startling Wille out of his musings. “Before this. When you were a kid. Before you were… a prince. Before you weren’t anymore.”
Wille smiles slightly. “An astronaut.”
“Really?” Simon sounds surprised.
“Yes,” Wille frowns. “What’s wrong with astronaut?”
Simon shrugs. “Cliche.”
“Oh, alright,” Wilhelm quips sassily, and enjoys the amused look that arrives on Simon’s face. “What did you want to be, then, if my answer is no good?”
“A fish.”
Wille’s mouth drops open. He closes it, then opens it again but can’t seem to make any sound come out.
“Yes, exactly like that!” Simon grins widely, pointing at Wille. This makes Wille splutter, which makes Simon burst into laughter.
“That’s not– You can’t be a fish, Simon,” he gasps incredulously.
Simon continues to giggle. “Why not?”
“It’s not possible!”
“Oh and you becoming an astronaut is possible?”
“Hey, if I wanted to I could. You are a human person. You cannot be a fish.”
“Well, that’s what I wanted to be. You asked.”
Thirty minutes later, their booked time in the music room is up and Wille realizes Simon’s laptop has stopped buffering. He’s not sure how long it’s been done, he’d been too busy laughing and joking with Simon. He’s also not sure how long it’s been since he laughed like this. It feels really, really nice. Comfortable. He books the same time slot for Wednesday as they bid their goodbyes.
#another au! who's shocked#been working on this lil guy for months#music room redemption! let's go#willemonth2024#yr fic#young royals#wilmon#simon eriksson#wille eriksson#yr fanfic
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
I wish I was with you
written by the moonseandstars. published: 29 May 2024
❀ 1.1k words. lisa frankenstein!au. undead!taesan bf headcanons. mentions of severed genitals lolz, death, murder, groping, and kissing. fancy a different story? જ⁀➴ the library is this way!
❀ authors note — i finally watched lisa frankenstein and it’s literally been on replay ever since (seen it 8 times in a row). such a good film if you haven’t seen it already GO watch it!! n e ways it got me thinking about Emo Kitty Boy and how he’d just fit perfectly into this kinda story. maybe this will be a longer thing in the future but for now enjoy some headcanons!! happy reading my fairies ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ♡︎
• accidentally bringing a dead man back to life definitely wasn’t something you thought could happen.. like, ever. but here you are!
• such a pretty boy :( has the sweetest, saddest eyes you��ve ever seen. walks around with his head down most of the time.
• his hair is always a mess, ruffled and sticking up in different directions, but you adore it. you love playing with it and manoeuvring it in a way so he has two little kitten ears.
• he outwardly hates it, always grunting and pulling away from you but on the inside? it’s his favourite thing. he gets to sit really close to you and stare at your pretty face.
• he’s still A Bit Confused about the modern world, but you’re always by his side to help him figure out new things (and keep him away from danger)
• you take him on roller rink dates every saturday night (his favourite). he’s so clumsy but has the time of his life. you take him on drive-in theatre, ice cream parlour and library dates too!!
• at the library, you show him all the popular authors nowadays and your favourite books. often times you both decide on a book to check out. then, go out to the field in your neighbourhood and sit on the cute little bench overlooking the forest whilst his head is in your lap and you read to him.
• is such a huge enjoyer of rock music. the first time you took him to the record store, he randomly chose a Kiss vinyl to try out at home and he LOVED it.
• you could not stop laughing. his eyes lit up so much. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so wide. :’) you guys had a major rager that night
• practiced driving so much just to be able to take you places. he loves bringing you to the local diner so you two can “share” a milkshake. he just sort of sits with his lips on the straw, but at least you can share a cute moment together!
• insists on feeding you, fries specifically. he’s just weird like that.
• he’s still not much of a talker, so he shows his love through lots of physical touch and acts of service.
• when he’s feeling really sappy and romantic, he’ll trudge over to the radio and start playing The Cure. has specific songs that remind him of you, so he plays those to communicate how he feels.
• will absolutely drag you off the sofa and make you dance with him. clumsily spins you around and dips you like in those old movies.
• can genuinely read you like a book. he’s so empathetic and in tune with your feelings. he understands you so deeply. he knows all your interests, your dislikes and everything you love.
• whenever you’re feeling sad he’ll carry you bridal style to your bed, pepper your face with kisses then bring you your favourite food and candies.
• he’ll also go traverse the neighbourhood for a rose bush. cuts the prettiest ones just for you, then spray paints them black and ties them in a little bouquet. you have about fifteen of them hanging on the wall above your bed
• worships the ground you walk on. literally yearns for you day and night. he’d kill for you.
• and he does.
• anyone who is mean to you, purposefully goes out of their way to make your life miserable, and/or harms you is dead :)
• it’s quite funny cause he looks so shy and nervous most of the time that nobody would think he’d be capable of murder. but he is :P
• it’s sort of really romantic.
• you know, as he’s dead, only the Really Important bits of him are in one piece… so! he killed that slimy little dirtbag that groped you at that terrible party one night. then cut his dick off ^_^
• presents it to you with such a sweet smile. is like •ᴗ•
• you freak out!!!!! because what!!! and then he’s sad and miserably grunts, which you interpret as “im sorry, i thought it would make you happy” he’s literally frowning and tears are forming in his eyes so you have no choice but to hug him
• you kiss him all over as a thank you
• (and yes, you attach it to him. sorta poorly but because he’s smart he suggests using electricity to really make sure it’s on there and give it…. feeling again? your sister has a faulty tanning bed so….you give it a try! it works ;)
• he’s so gentle with you. cuddling is his #1 favourite activity to do with you. always follows you everywhere with his arm around your waist. clingy bf <33
• if you’re cooking something he’ll just latch onto you like a little baby kitten and rest his head on your shoulder.
• his favourite places to kiss you are your neck and lips. he loves to leave hickeys on you and then watch you get all flustered and blushy when you discover them later
• you’re not bothered to cover them though so if you’re going somewhere that day… oh well! <3
• and he loves to kiss your lips because he gets to taste you. a messy kisser for sure but it’s really hot.
• sometimes, you play the Chapstick Guessing Game where you put on all your different chapsticks and make him guess each flavour. he totally abuses the game and guesses the wrong answer on purpose :| it always ends in a make out session anyways so you let it slide
• you always tell him about your day before you go to bed, and he’ll hmmph and grpph back to you. when he’s feeling really energised, he’ll write what happened to him during the day so you can read it :D
• snuggles up to you realllyyy close and plays with your hair. hums is favourite songs (both classical and rock) to you. he actually has a lovely voice, albeit a little croaky.
• he loves tracing your features. they’re just so gorgeous and his absolute favourite thing to look at; plus it relaxes you. double win!
• kisses your forehead before turning off the lights (will steal a long, passionate kiss or two in the dark…maybe more if you’re okay with it).
• you tell him everything. he tells you everything. he feels so safe with you. you’re his home. and he makes you feel real and not crazy and he doesn’t look at you like some puzzle to figure out. he sees you as a person. and a person he wants to spend eternity with at that <3
#hope you enjoy!!! <333#vivi’s library ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#bonedo! ᡣ𐭩⋆.˚#taesan 🐈⬛ ♡#boynextdoor headcanons#bonedo headcanons#bnd headcanons#boynextdoor x reader#han taesan#han taesan x reader#taesan#taesan x reader#taesan x reader headcanons#taesan boynextdoor#boynextdoor taesan#bnd taesan#han dongmin#han dongmin x reader#dongmin x reader#han dongmin headcanons
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hola! Do you have any advice an Wars’s characterisation? For example, how you feel he reacts to stress or his go to methods of connecting with people?
felt like you were the guy to ask :)
I FEEL SO HONORED IM BEING ASKED RN ALKJSLKSJS OH MY GOD
so this is all for how I personally characterize him, this is just my take on him feel free to do your own thing :)
For me, he has different levels of stress. For more minor things he’s able to just force it aside and push through whatever he’s doing, but for bigger things he gets quieter and snappier. Like ‘normal’ level of stress where he’s trying to figure out a battle plan for the chain but maybe it’s too loud and it’s hard for him to focus? He’s going to grit his teeth and power through, he’s not happy about it but he’s going to get it done. War of Eras battle planning? Late at night? He’s still trying to power through but maybe this time there are silent tears. Twilight is laying there dying and Time is preoccupied so watching out for all the others is up to him? Shockingly he’s keeping it together despite this being terrifying and extremely stressful, because in life or death situations he forces himself to be the rock for everyone else. It’s only once the real ‘stress’ is actually over that he allows himself to feel it, and with large events like that he’s quiet. He doesn’t speak as much, he looks more exhausted than he normally allows himself to appear, and when he does speak it’s very flat or a bit snappier than usual, which of course he does feel bad about, but at the time he can’t control
Either way, he doesn’t want his own stress to stop him from doing what needs to get done so he doesn’t deal with it in a healthy way. He’s suppressing it both cases, but in one he successfully files it away for later (it will of course come to bite him in the ass later down the line), and in the other case it’s overwhelming after the actual event has passed, and it’s very noticeable in his behavior (this excludes how i think he’d react in more trauma related situations)
For connecting with others, I think he struggles with it a bit. He’s definitely an extrovert, for me he’s loved talking with people his whole life, but due to everything he’s been through he cannot stop himself from mentally marking down peoples flaws and weaknesses and he feels bad about it, because here’s this person he’s trying to get closer to and his brain is like “here’s how to defeat them if they try to attack you”. He does not trust easily, and he definitely acts and presents himself a certain way towards people he doesn’t know/doesn’t know very well that is VERY different from how he presents himself around friends. I think he really connects with the others through shared experiences where the others do something kind for him they didn’t have to do, or do something to protect him. Like protecting him in a battle, or tossing him an extra fruit, or including him in little activities they’re doing, or even standing up for him in a bar. It helps him feel like maybe he can trust them. He is a kind person and he does nice things for the others in return, but he really connects with them when they’re doing something for him, because it makes him feel like he can allow himself to be closer to them
His trust cannot be earned with words, it must be earned through action and time
I also write him as a person who grew up very used to friendly, safe touch, and whose love language used to be giving hugs to show affection and care. He’s not the best with his words, and hugs used to be easier for him but because of trauma he can’t do that anymore. He has a very complicated relationship with physical touch now, and there are times where he really needs it but can’t actually handle it so he’ll sit away by himself. Over the years he’s gotten better with being able to allow himself to give out hugs or accept them, but that’s not an easy way for him to connect with people any more, so he connects with them and shows he cares through little acts. Wind ripped a hole in his tunic again? It’s fixed by morning, and Wind always just catches Warriors putting his needle and thread away. Wild’s scars are aching and he ran out of lotion somehow? There’s magically more in the bottom of his bag, and Warriors is seen walking away from it. Legend woke up from a nightmare and can’t fall asleep? Warriors will start reading his book aloud if he’s the one up on watch, and while Legend will probably never verbally thank him for it, it’s the fact that he’s able to go back to sleep within fifteen-thirty minutes that lets Warriors know it works and Legend is grateful for it
I headcanon sometimes it’s hard for him to physically connect with the others, but he shows his support and love in other little ways and connects with them that way :)
anyways sorry this took me so long to type out, I really hope it’s coherent and helpful :) and again, this is just how I personally characterize him this isn’t like, the only way to characterize him by any means, feel free to do whatever you’d like !!
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Auntie and Uncle Duties
Too Young Masterlist
Summary: Louis and YN look after Olive.
Based on this request and this request.
Phoebe🩵:
Hey Sis! I’ve got a last minute meeting this afternoon, will you and Louis look after Olive for me please?😘xxx
YN let out an excited ‘agh’ as she read the message from Phoebe. There was no hesitation, they would be absolutely thrilled to spend the day with their niece. Plus, YN saw it as a way of her and Louis getting into practice of looking after a newborn again, considering it had been 9 years since Arthur was born.
“Lou! Lou!”. YN shouted with urgency trying to get his attention from the next room. “Louis!”.
Louis feet came to a halt as his sock covered feet ran into the kitchen. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”. His voice was rushed as he tried to catch his breath again.
“We’re looking after Olive today!”. YN smile filled her face, as she broke the news to Louis. “Isn’t that exciting?”.
He couldn’t help but stare at YN in disbelief, at how she had shouted his name with such urgency. “Yeah it’s fookin’ great…but next time less of the shouting…I thought there was something wrong”.
YN only rolled her eyes at his words. “Don’t be so dramatic…I’m thrilled that Phoebe has asked us”. The large grin on her face told Louis that this really meant a lot to her.
“Pheebs thinks the world of you…all me sisters do…so of course they’d trust you with their babies.”. Louis reached around so his arms wrapped around her waist, his hands landing on her lower back.
“Makes me more excited for our little bean!”. YN looked down at the small bump that sat between them.
Louis smiled down as he thought about in a few months time, their family would have an extra little person. “Who would have thought ey? If it wasn’t for my blue eyes that night maybe we wouldn’t even be here”.
“It wasn’t just your eyes…I thought you were hot way before that night”. YN confessed as they were still wrapped up in each others arms.
Louis wore his famous smirk, enjoying the new information he was hearing. “Oh really? It was the striped T-shirt and braces wasn’t it?”.
“Definitely…just gave you that bad boy edge!”. YN teased before reaching up to meet his lips.
---
The moment Phoebe dropped Olive off at YN and Louis’ to go to her meeting in London, YN’s smile has not left her face. Louis loved many things about YN but watching her being a mother and auntie was something special. She was a natural and her caring side really showed.
“And how about me, you and uncle Louis go for a walk?”. YN spoke to Olive as she gently put her pink coat on her. “And then we can pick Arthur up from school…he’ll be so excited to see you…yes he will”. YN cooed as Olive looked up at her, the mini Phoebe taking everything in.
“Your auntie YN doesn’t stop talking does she?”. Louis gently took Olive from YN’s arms, rocking her gently in his as he looked down at his niece. “It’s the Styles in her…always chatting!”.
YN knew he was teasing but she couldn’t help but form a ‘O’ with her mouth at his words. “You’re cheeky….you know I’m the quieter Styles!”.
“if you say so babe…but Gemma has won that title fair and square…you and Harry don’t stop when you’re together!”. Louis defended his words as he placed Olive into her pram and placing a blanket over her to stop the wind from making her cold.
“Oh shush and let’s take our beautiful niece for a walk!”.
---
The couple had slowly walked to their local park, Louis pushing the pram as Olive slept constantly inside. YN couldn’t help but let her mother’s instincts take over and kept checking on Olive every few minutes to check she was okay.
Enjoying the calmness, they continued to walk through the park, over the small bridge and around the lake before deciding to head to a cafe for them to get something to drink and to be able to feed Olive.
Walking into the small cafe, they were lucky to spot a table towards the back of the shop and quickly claimed it as their own. Whilst Louis ordered them both cups of tea, YN carefully picked Olive up from her pram as she started to stir. Louis was quick to make a bottle of milk up, using everything Phoebe had given them. As Olive gulped down her milk, eager for her lips to meet the bottle, Louis and YN sat in silence watching in awe at the little baby.
“OH! Is that Louis?”. The excited voice caught both their ears, meaning they started at each other wondering how the interaction would go.
Louis quickly brought his mug up to his lips to take a sip, a way to distract himself as he noticed the two fans approaching them. “Uh hi!”.
“Hey…you alright?”. Louis was always polite to his fans, he was eternally grateful for all their love and support. But when he was in public with his family, he always felt the urge to be protective.
“Yeah…we just wanted to say hi and that we’re really big fans”. The older girl spoke, as she looked between Louis and YN.
“Oh well thank you love…I appreciate all your support”. Louis wore a grin on his face, as he looked between the two fans.
“Is this Olive?”. The younger of the two noticed the baby lying in YN’s arms, still drinking her milk.
“Yeah…we’re on uncle and auntie duty today”. YN joked as she gently rubbed Olive cheek with her finger.
“She’s so cute!”. They cooed over the newborn. After taking a quick photo with Louis, the fans were eager to leave couple to enjoy their time.
Wanting to let YN drink her tea before it got cold, Louis carefully took Olive into his arms as the little one began to fuss. He gently stood on his feet with Olive tucked up to his neck as he swayed her gently to help soothe her. The science in front of her made YN glad she was already pregnant because the sight of Louis holding Olive in his arms, caused her ovaries to dance. Wanting to cherish the moment, she quickly snapped a photo of the precious moment between Louis and Olive because it really was something special.
ynstyles
liked by lottietomlinson, thephoebetomlinson, and 971,045 others
ynstyles my heart can’t cope🥹🫶🏼🤍
View all 3,671 comments
lottietomlinson ❤️
annetwist absolutely beautiful ❤️❤️
the.daisytomlinson My heart🤍
thephoebetomlinson Olive loved her day with uncle Lou and auntie YN! Love you both🥰❤️
pillowpersonpp This is too sweet!
j_corden Waw! This is a special photo x
louisfan4 LOUIS🥹🥹🥹
1dfan7 I CAN’T COPE!!!
louisfan9 can’t believe we actually get to see louis holding his own baby soon!!
harryfan6 YN tell Harry we miss him❤️
Taglist
:@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly
#louis tomlinson#louis tomlinson fic#louistomlinson#louis tomlinson writing#louis tomlinson x reader#louis tomlinson fanfic#louis tomlinson fanfiction#louis tomlinson x y/n#louis tomlinson x oc#louis tomlinson x you#louis tomlinson series#louis tomlinson x styles!reader#louis tomlinson x yn!styles#louis tomlinson x harry's sister#louis x you#louis x reader#louis x yn#louis x y/n
27 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
