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#her character development is probably gone I am in tears

hazshit-hotel-hater · 2 months

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What are your opinions on each of the songs? (you can answer with as much or as little detail as you'd like)

Big shocker that the songs from the 2 good episodes are in S and the only one that isn’t is still B tier/sar

The first 2 songs in S made me either tear up/shake violently or cry, and therefore they deserve to be up there IMO. Out for love is also just genuinely catchy and had actual build up to it. Also God “Ready for This” just. OOUGGGHHH IT SCRATCHES MY BRAIN SO GOOD LIKE A WARRIOR CATS MAP. I like it a lot. You cant have multiple characters sing about working together and expect me to NOT cry.

“Stayed Gone” isn’t one I listen to often but it’s so peppy and fast and full of hatred I can’t help but enjoy it. Also everytime the song starts my brain does this

I dont know anything about Welcome Home

I have. Issues. With “Loser, Baby” but aside from those the song holds a lot more weight to it than I usually give it credit for. And for as cheesy as the start if it is, the line before of Angel talking about self destructing resonates with me a lot. Also Husk lays down in a puddle of vomit and no one talks about that ever.

I think the first song in B is “Happy Day in Hell” and I’m adding it there 1. Because it is the first song 2. It gets a reprise thing 3. Charlie almost gets hit by a truck. Other than that it’s not really my favourite but I respect the impact it has.

“Hell is Forever” just fucks. End of story. Alex Brightman killed it.

“Respectless” is good I love Velvette’s VA, but the sudden start of the song and the ending are so out of left field the first time me and my friends watched this show we had to pause cause we lost our fucking minds. Could’ve been better but I’d listen to it again, yeah.

“Hell’s Greatest Dad” is silly and funny and maybe I’m biased as a violin player and jazz enjoyer but a lot of the instrumental tickles my brain so nicely. I will say though it confuses me so much because why does Alastor care about being seen as a father figure?? My mom said it could just be him wanting to show up Lucifer and that’s it but I dunno.

“More than Anything (Reprise)” AKA “Charlie and Veggie Kiss Scene - Hazbin Hotel”

This song sounds like it’s straight out of Barbie & Th Diamond Castle and I’m honestly pissed the girls in the movie didn’t kiss so I’m coping with this. ALSO THE FACT ITS A REPRISED SONG ABOUT LOVE MAKES ME A BIT CRAZY. I never noticed this was the same song Lucifer sang to Charlie SOMEHOW but that’s actually really cute.

“It Starts With Sorry” Has a big part in Sir Pentious’s character growth and just his character in general. I’ve been working on this in my Pentious rant but I never see people mention how much this song probably meant to him. Yeah it’s super corny, but he was fully expecting to be killed and had just been told to kill himself. This was definitely huge for him and I’m not gonna be convinced otherwise.

“You Didn’t Know” is really good but Lute’s part is by far the best and I pray to GOD she gets her own song in S2 her voice actor can SING. GODDAMN! I am very interested in Lute’s character development and I love seeing what people do with close-minded characters like that and hopefully Vivzie doesn’t condemn her to Vivziepop Woman Syndrome. If she isn’t important in S2 I’m going to be pissed but I dunno maybe S3 if we get one.

“More Than Anything” Wish my dad was like this! This song is incredibly sweet and I appreciate it a lot. Honestly might go way higher on the list if I keep thinking about it.

“Whatever It Takes” Sorry you will never be Imagine Dragons. Vaggie doesn’t sound anything like herself cause her VA is making her voice so much more gruff for her character, which is fine! I like her voice (the voice direction is not very good but I digress) it’s just her voice is so high in this I can’t even tell it’s Vaggie.

“Welcome to Heaven” is boring, but we got a Molly cameo!

“Poison”. Read this and this and this. -10/10. I’d rather make out violently with Elon Musk.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #raimble #hazbin hotel song #hazbin songs #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel spoilers

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carter-is-a-disaster · 5 months

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I am literally so insane about last night's Doctor Who episode, I loved it so much. I feel like the three 60th anniversary episodes will be incredible. Honestly I can't believe we get to watch David Tennant be the Doctor again after so long. And him reuniting with Donna!!

Now I did find the scene where Donna and Rose say to the Doctor he "would never understand" since he is male presenting now, a little bit cringe and it didn't really make sense since bro was a woman a day ago and timelords don't really follow the human rules of gender anyway. But what can you do, boomer humour I guess.

BUT ANYWAY the episode was so good I loved it so much, i loved the Doctor and Donna being back together again, their friendship is so brilliant to watch, their energy is amazing. The scene in the meep spaceship nearly brought me to tears and when they enter to new tardis??? oh the happiness, THE JOY i felt! I'd honestly love to run around the tardis like the Doctor did.

And btw I'm still not over Donna's daughter being called Rose and the Doctor's reaction when he realised. The fact that she probably chose that name for herself because of the metacrisis being passed to her through Donna and the memory of Rose and the love the Doctor has for her. Ah i could cry

Also i absolutely adore that we see the character development the Doctor has gone through since he was 10. He is still the Doctor. He still has the same qualities and characteristics 10 had, that we all love about him so much, but we can still see that he's been 11, 12 and 13. Love to see that.

David Tennant and Catherine Tate were fantastic and i can't wait to see more!

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #doctor who 60th anniversary #the star beast #fourteenth doctor #tenth doctor #donna noble #the doctordonna

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konoa-t · 8 months

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For unique character development questions, do the following numbers for Yumi, Reuben, and Dawn:

5, 16, 42, 54, 66, 89,

Ty for this!

There's quite a bit of text, so Ill put the answers behind a cut!

[TW: BLOOD, DEATH, VIOLENCE, IMPLIED ABUSE, CLAUSTROPHOBIA}

Yumi

#5: Small blurbs of conversations or even some swear words would come out LOL

#16: It was like the whole world had stopped moving. All the war cries of Yumi's brothers and sisters in arms - as well as the deafening booms of artillery and sharp clangs of clashing swords - had been replaced with a muffled silence. The only noise that could be perceived was that of her own racing heart. A bloodied Oron rests in front of Yumi, looking up at her with dull eyes. She kneels down, propping the man up. His consciousness seemed to be fading more with every second. No matter how hard she pressed, blood would endlessly gush from the wound in his side. He opens his mouth and mutters something to her, but she cannot perceive it; Yumi's thoughts have ceased, and her mind is blank. He suddenly goes limp, and a sudden numbness washes over her. Even the world around her fades out of focus; it is only her and Oron's lifeless body in this moment. She stares, unable to come to terms with the sight in front of her. Slowly, her vision becomes clouded and blurry with tears. Emotions almost forcefully push themselves to the front of her mind, demanding to let their presence be known. As she struggles to breathe, Yumi's mouth unconsciously opens itself, letting out an inaudible wail. Her now bloodied hands claw at her face and skull in a desperate attempt to process it. The torrent of emotions seizes her and tears through her heart, shelling it out. It was a familiar pain. One she had felt a long time ago...

~~~

A sharp, prickling sensation coursed up her spine, forcefully puling her from the depths of sleep. Yumi sluggishly sits up, rubbing her eyes. Her cheeks were wet. Sighing, she checks the alarm clock on her side table. 4:45 AM. Of course it was. Irritated, she lays back down, trying to forget the details of her recent nightmare. If only she could forget about that day...

#42: Hmmmm, for Yumi, she usually just hides herself away somewhere. Though, out of those options, she would most likely clean.

#54: She doesn’t watch TV, but I could see her binging shows like AHS

#66: Yumi hasn’t gotten sick in a while… The last time was probably a few years ago. Reuben was the one to treat her!

#89: The dumbest way Yumi has been injured is when she got distracted for a moment and slipped out of a tree. She broke her arm. Needless to say, she learned her lesson and hasn’t let that happen again haha

Reuben

#5: Small giggles and maybe little phrases like “awww thank you!” Could be heard.

#16: Reuben was gleefully having a picnic in a forest. He poured tea and chatted with the forest's inhabitants, asking them of their day and what they normally get up to at this hour. They would happily respond, returning the same question to him. Reuben was always happy to have little get-togethers like this; it brought him much joy to see everyone so lively. He noticed he was out of water for tea, so he excused himself to get some more from a stream nearby. He quickly scoops up the water into a small thermos before returning back to the now empty picnic blanket. Huh? Where has everyone gone? He desperately looked around, calling out for his new friends, but no one responded to his calls. He looks around for a few more moments before returning to the blanket. Did they have to go somewhere? Reuben sat down, confused. He thought they were having such a good time, why did they leave? As he pondered, something slowly crept its way towards him. A small snap of a twig snapped Reuben out of his thoughts.

"W-who's there?" He timidly calls out.

Reuben slowly turns to face what was behind him. It was a horrid beast, one with piecing eyes and sharp claws. It towered over the poor waddle dee, an unmistakable bloodlust in its gaze. Terror gripped Reuben's senses, paralyzing him. Eyes wide with fear, he continues staring at the giant creature. It reaches out to him hastily, and almost instinctively, Reuben jerks backward. He swiftly turns around, fleeing from the monster that seemed so keen on capturing him. He ran for what felt like an eternity, tripping over branches and overgrown roots. He could feel the loud stomps of the monster's footsteps behind him; it was gaining on him. Sooner than he had hoped, Reuben's body began to become fatigued and sluggish. His legs could no longer carry the weight that was on top of them, and so he collapsed. He turns around, only for his heart to jump into his throat. The monster had been right behind him the entire time. It would seem that, no matter how fast he ran, it was always just a step away from killing him. The monster approaches him, reaching one of its claws out. Reuben squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the worst to happen. But by the time he opened them again, he was no longer in the forest. He was in his own bed, staring up at the ceiling of his house. Phew, it was just a nightmare...

#42: He would most likely bake when he gets stressed!

#54: I think he would enjoy binging reality TV or gameshows! Yknow, shows like family feud or something haha!

#66: He got sick a few months ago, but was able to recover fully! Yumi was there for support but he mostly just treated himself.

#89: The dumbest way Reuben has been injured is when he interfered with a battle between Mort and some other guy (probably a pirate or somethin). Reuben was trying to stop the fight when he got donked over the head by the pirate. He suffered a bad bruise, but thankfully he didn’t get a concussion.

Dawn

#5: Sometimes complaints, sometimes nothing at all. Dawn cries in her sleep as well :(

#16: 182 lines mark the wall. That's what signifies how many days she's been trapped in this damn room. Dawn counted every hour and every minute of each passing day; and it all totaled up to 182 days that her coven sisters wouldn't allow her out of the closet-sized space she called her bedroom. She had done something they deemed "bad," and now she was paying for it by having to live in such a small space. Dawn didn't regret what she did; rescuing that poor, injured bird is what anyone would have done, after all... She didn't understand what she did wrong, which made her punishment all the more unfair and unpleasant. But what the elder witches say, goes. And for some reason, they thought that it was fine to do something like this. Dawn wallowed in her thoughts and emotions for a while, staring at the empty walls of her room. She wasn't even allowed to have posters or other decorations up. Suddenly, the walls of the room began to bend and cave in, almost as if it was actively trying to crush her. Panicked, Dawn raises her hands, trying to use her magic to pry the walls apart. But it was of no use; they caved in regardless. A sharp feeling of panic and dread courses through Dawn. She would certainly die if she stayed in this room any longer. Fingers prickling with anxiety, she tries to remove the bars on her window to escape. However, during her struggles, the walls just got closer. And closer, until eventually, despite all of her struggles, the walls pinned her against the window she was trying to pry open. She felt every part of her body begin to collapse under the intense pressure. Letting out a pained shriek, Dawn makes one last feeble attempt to free herself. That is when suddenly, she felt a hand graze her cheek. Though it was gloved, it felt soft. A voice calls out to her. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know who it was. Slowly, she feels the pressure of the walls fade, and she looks over to the source of the sound. It was Jamie. She had woken up due to Dawn's stirring. It was common for her to cry or thrash about in her sleep, and nightmares were a common occurrence for her, but Jamie was always there to help comfort her afterwards. Upon seeing her face, a huge wave of relief washed over Dawn. She leaned into her, complaining of her latest nightmare. Jamie listened attentively, offering words of encouragement and comfort while they gently drifted back off to sleep. Dawn sure was glad to have someone like her girlfriend.

#42: She would probably stress shop! When Dawn gets stressed she can be rather impulsive in her attempt to distract herself.

#54: She would like drama shows! I can’t think of any particular one at this moment, but that would be the genre she binges.

#66: Dawn hasn’t been sick for a few months, but when she does get sick, Jamie is there to care for her.

#89: The dumbest injury for Dawn would be when she accidentally dropped a book on her head while practicing psychokinesis. Nothing too bad as you can see, but it still hurt.

#FINALLY OUT!!! Sorry for the waittt #And sorry if the writing is bad #I haven't done it in a while #I was also very tired HAGHShasg #Konoa answers #Freelancer Yumi #Reuben waddle dee #DE Witches #Ouughhhh angst

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ruiniel · 10 months

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Fandom: Castlevania Series (2017-2021)

Rating: M

Characters: Alucard, Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades

Relationships: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades

Additional Tags: Post-Castlevania Season 2, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Trephacard, Grief/Mourning, Mental Anguish, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Developing relationship, Polyamory, More Tags to Be Added

Chapter I

Also on AO3.

IX.

A stir, an overflow of warmth.

Trevor turns on his side through the fading numbness of slumber, eyes opening to a chamber that is gray in the predawn silence. He recalls where he is and who he is with, even as he’s met with an unfamiliar sight: Alucard, lying across from him, asleep on his back, body slack and features smooth with the merciful oblivion of rest. One finely veined hand is splayed leisurely over his chest, the other probably around Sypha, snoring lightly on his other side. His head is turned towards Trevor, and he seems more at peace than one had ever seen Alucard in his waking hours; his chest rises and falls in time with Trevor’s silent breaths. Unburdened, unaware. Vulnerable.

Trevor stares at the tumble of fair hair, the slight peek of fang from between pale lips, the soft flutter of pulse at Alucard’s throat like restless butterflies trapped beneath; no simmer of power, no awareness of a legacy coiled around his neck, trapping him like a man sentenced.

It’s too early, though. Too early in the day to think about all of this overmuch, about them, about last night. Trevor closes his eyes, nosing at the pillow that smells faintly of lavender and old linen, and Alucard.

When next he awakens and tries to move, he — can’t?

There’s a heaviness on him, and the soft brush of warm air fanning his ear. It feels like Sypha, smells like Sypha, and of course, as his body sees fit to announce before his brain catches up, it is Sypha.

Alucard is gone, apparently, and her bare leg is slung over Trevor; she’d likely removed her leggings before sleep, leaving her in that thin shift, and the warmth of her inner thigh seeps through his clothes.

Oh-crap. Trevor shifts his hips slightly away, his body too awake of a sudden; Sypha stirs, mumbling something and pressing more into him, which is… which is… nice , his instinct finds, melting here with the late morning sun on his face and her arm draped over his chest, her breath on his neck.

But.

They’ve all slept in close quarters before when forced by circumstance, and yet… this, now, in its cocoon-like intimacy… feels so, so different.

He should probably wake her? “Sypha,” he whispers.

“Mm…”

“It’s late,” Trevor says, running his hand up and down her back.

“So?...”

Trevor gives up and lies there with her, watching the dust floating and shimmering amid slanted beams of sunlight.

When he’s close to falling asleep, Sypha moves, yawning and rubbing at her eyes. She gives him a languid smile as she turns and stretches in bed, arching her back and bringing her arms above her head.

“Alucard?” Trevor asks drowsily, unable to tear his eyes away from the smooth coil and shape of her.

“He awoke some time earlier,” she says, then covers her mouth for another yawn. “Said something about breakfast.” She tilts on her side, facing him.

“Did he, now,” Trevor says. “Can’t wait to see that.”

“I, for one, am famished,” she rises, glancing around the chamber for a while. She eventually looks down at Trevor, reaches for his hand. “It helped, you know. You, being here,” she adds at his questioning gaze. “It helps him.”

Trevor presses back into her touch, eyes on their joined hands, but the warmth settling in him grows cold when he thinks of the look Alucard gave him the previous evening, the despondency and guilt of a bereaved son. He releases her hand and rises to sit at the edge of the bed, bare feet touching the floor. “You said you’d hold me to it, yeah? Just doing my part.”

“Admirably so,” Sypha says, and he can guess the smile in her tone, knows it’s one of those moments where he could try to speak to her and she would listen, where she’s silently inviting him to share if he can, free of judgment or rejection.

And Trevor wants to, wants to get his damn head out of his ass and speak plainly for once, so she… so they both understand. He sighs. “I mean, it’s not as if I’m completely selfless in this,” he shrugs, biting on his lip.

Sypha glides over and wraps an arm around him from behind, then the other, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“I know, Trevor. I know.”

A sweet, fragrant smell hits his nose when they reach the kitchen, pleasant enough that his stomach sees fit to rumble. Trevor glances at Alucard, standing before the long counter and wiping his hands.

“Good… morning?” he greets, catching Alucard’s eye, who smiles at Sypha as she goes around him to get herself a cup of water.

“Closer to noon, rather,” Alucard deadpans archly, a tone that used to annoy the hunter to no end, but now he’s too busy noticing the way Alucard carries himself, the shadows under his eyes, any remnant of the past night in his bearing.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know we were bound for anything momentous today,” he throws it back, easing into their cycle of barbs, finding it oddly comforting now(still wonders when that happened). Trevor steps towards a cabinet and retrieves a mug, then gazes at the steaming food Alucard sets on the table.

“What, is that?”

“These, are pancakes, Trevor,” Alucard crosses his arms at his chest. “There’s berries, and honey,” he points at a large jar. “What is so amusing?” he asks at Trevor’s snicker.

Trevor shrugs helplessly, shaking his head as Sypha takes a seat opposite him close to Alucard, already helping herself to the fare. “Sorry, sorry, I’m only getting used to Alucard of Wallachia making me pancakes.”

Alucard’s face remains impassive. “Don’t get used to it.”

Trevor taps fingers against the wooden surface. “Perish the thought.”

“Speak for yourself, Trevor,” Sypha says, already drizzling honey over one pancake and reaching for the berries. “Mmm, you used cinnamon,” her eyes close in satisfaction, and Trevor doesn’t miss the soft, caring glance Alucard gives her as she licks her fingers.

Trevor can’t take his eyes off them, feels like a piece of shit for the jealous weeding growing in his gut but he smothers it down because, this… is better than any human interaction he’s had in months—no, years: the soft glow of a fresh day, the sweet smell of actual, cooked food, and companionship. One should be so lucky, he can’t but think, though it feels paltry to attribute what they have here to mere luck.

“I thought we might check the grounds today,” Trevor then announces lazily, looking at both of them in turn.

“Oh?” Alucard rests his cheek in his palm; Sypha chews on a pancake, and glancing at either of them feels like something peeling off his heart, leaving it tender and sore — what if this, like many other things lost before in life, could also be taken away?

He’s being a selfish prick again.“Yeah,” he says, “there was a priory not too far off the road leading to the old house, back in the day. Thought it’d be good to see what became of it, since, you know,” he gestures all around them, and they understand: having the Church in close proximity to Dracula’s castle where dwell a dhampir, a Speaker and an excommunicated heretic, is like a barrel of oil needing but a spark to catch a devouring flame.

Alucard watches him, thoughtful. Sypha stabs another pancake with her fork. “I agree. We might as well get this over with sooner than later.”

“As you wish, then,” Alucard says, looking between the two of them. He acts as though yesterday never happened, and Trevor, during one of those anchoring moments of clarity, decides against tilting this precarious balance by asking about it.

The hunter nods. “Settled.”

They reach the forest path by midday, passing the old split oak tree which Trevor makes sure to mention used to be his tree, his playground and refuge, an oasis of peace during the many turbulent arguments with his siblings. He bites down the memories gurgling to the surface as Sypha hums a tune in her lilting voice. Alucard walks alongside them, sword at his hip, glancing all around at regular intervals, while talking to Sypha about yet another sleep-inducing, long dead scholar.

“Anything to worry about?” asks Trevor as they follow the road which bends on another path, leading to their destination.

“Not as far as I’m aware,” says Alucard.

“... as for my people,” Sypha carries on an idle conversation begun from banter, “... in our tribes we are free to do what we like — whether it's two, three, or however many people choose to build a life together, or for however long they wish."

For however long. Trevor remembers clearly his own encounter with the Speakers, days after the loss of his family. He was flat with exhaustion and pain, a festering wound on his face. They were kind, and as close-knit as his own family ever were.

“Vampire culture, for the most part, does not adhere to monogamy as some human societies do, either — particularly in this part of the world,” adds Alucard, lowering his head to avoid a hanging branch.

“But your…” Trevor stops himself before saying parents.

“What happened between my mother and father was…” he hesitates, “unique.”

“You can say that again,” Trevor can't help himself, meeting Sypha's glare with a sheepish shrug.

“Ah, it's fine,” the soft lull of Alucard’s voice is accented by a smile; one Trevor wants to see more of, so this is actually a win. “My parents chose each other, but staying together and being exclusive was… unusual to my father’s people. Even as a child, I heard gossip at court — many were unsure as to what abilities I’d inherited, if any, from my father. Enhanced hearing was one of them, the first to show.”

“And let me guess, none dared speak up about their lord's personal affairs."

Alucard nods once, looking away as they reach a treeless patch of grass overlooking a vale, where a silvery river snakes away amid stones and forests, towards the horizon.

It’s doubly peculiar, hearing about Dracula as a family man and as a father, but seeing the being he’d brought into the world, the kind of person Alucard is, makes the idea less outrageous and more attached to reality by the day.

The three of them pause, gazing into the distance. Sypha is between them, pebbles crunching beneath her sandals. “What is that, down ahead?”

Not too far off, sheltered by crowns of trees, is a long structure, blackened with years and covered in crawling ivy.

Trevor follows the direction of her finger, rubbing at his stubble. “We’ve arrived, that is the priory settled on the estate. While I was a child, before… everything, a few monks still lived there, tending to their gardens and their beer. It’s, uh…” he smiles, and the memory is stubborn enough that he speaks of it aloud. “It’s honestly where I had my first sip of ale, and then promptly fell asleep in the grass not far from the house, for fear Mother would chastise me when she’d feel the smell.”

“Well, then,” Alucard says, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, refrain, if you please.” Trevor ponders for another moment. “Come on then, might as well see what became of it.”

Sypha nods, taking her place at his right. Alucard steps to his left. “Lead the way, lord Belmont.”

Trevor nearly trips over his own legs. “... never call me that, ever, again.”

“I kind of like it,” Sypha snickers, and Trevor looks to Alucard’s smug expression that smoothens the shadowed grief on his face.

Relief takes hold, mellowing in his chest. Better. Much, much better.

#castlevania netflix #castlevania fanfiction #trephacard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #trevor belmont #ruiniel:fanfiction #castlevania fic #adrian tepes #polyamory

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tojikai · 2 years

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Ooh boy, where do I go with this?

*crack knuckles

*open word

Firstly,… KAI! IS THIS HOW EVERY CHAPTER GONNA END UNTIL THE FINAL ONE? I mean, of course, this will be how you end it. How else are you gonna get your reader looking forward to the next one? It works on me tbh, but still… I swear every cliffhanger in PM always makes me rip my hair offLMAOSADKASKDASDK

Why don’t we start from the top to the bottom?

But when her sweet breaths lull his tired form to sleep and all consciousness and control leave his body, he again hears your name in the sound of his own voice, unaware of how he's crushing another soul beside him.

I just… like… *insert that gif of a woman trying to hold on to her laughter

I’m sick in the head bc I giggled sm at this part. You thought, bitch, you thought! Like at least, Satoru emotionally cheated on Y/N in secret, but this man just straight up slept talk her name while sleeping next to you like that? The yearning is REAL. And like, the “side hoe” part is actually true at this point. What goes around comes around, am I right? :))

Was the man sleeping beside her simply dreaming of his past, or is this his subconscious speaking out his heart's untold and disregarded yet truest desires?

*remember the near end of this chapter

Yeahhhhhh…… about that…… LMAO

Going on with his day, Satoru remembered the events that happened after he got home from the hospital. He considers it one of the major challenges in their relationship, and he could still remember how his thoughts were all over the place at that time.

*fast forward

If he takes it, then it's over between the two of you. If he takes it, then he'll never get the chance to earn you back. If he takes it, then you'll forever be gone from his life.

He won't take the necklace, so he took your hand and pulled you to him, kissing your lips fervently and braving the slam of your fists against his body and chest, drowning you with the over.

He cradled your head as he kissed your cheek. "I'm ending things with Rie. I'm coming home to you, Y/N." flowing emotions that you bring out of him.

“One of the major challenges in their relationship” Yeah, that and the day you broke up with Rie LMAO. Like he thought there would be more if their relationship lasted that long, but like, the moment he realized that he’s going to lose Y/N for real, all these relationship things with Rie went out of the fucking window. He just jumped back right in Y/N without a second thought. No hesitation whatsoever.

All I could do was shake my head at this. This shit feels like it’s mirrored chapter 1. He didn’t think twice about leaving Y/N and now Rie is on the receiving end. THIS ASSHOLE DOESN’T CHANGE AT ALL. HE NEEDS THAT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT JUICE ASAP IF GOJO AND Y/N DO GET BACK TOGETHER. No one wants this manchild. He changes his mind faster than he changes his clothes.

Also, this chapter is probably the first in PM that makes me want to read it over and over again. Because it’s where Satoru finally makes up his damn mind about what he truly feels. It gives me so much peace. Like, you get it, Satoru… you get it… And since you understand now, will you fuck off for real? (we know he won’t) LASLDKASDKAAS;LDAS IM STILL SO MAD AT HIM OKAY?

She started out sobbing before it gradually increased to full-on wailing and crying.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, keeping eye contact, but his stare was glazed as he placed a hand on her waist.

"Satoru, I'm sorry." His disinterest didn't go unnoticed by Rie as she tried to catch his vacant stare.

Oh man, oh man, oh man! Anon strikes again!! Satoru just didn’t care or was afraid of Rie’s tears. AT ALL. You thought he would care more, like how he impulsively lashed out at Y/N at the party, but the indifference is kinda real here. He just didn’t bother hiding it anymore.

"The girl's really nice, Ma'am. I think her name's Y/N."

Satoru really believed that it was all slowly, steadily getting better. He thought that he was finally learning to completely detach himself from all the happenings surrounding you and him, just like how you must be doing every passing day too. But it was proven wrong when he found his heart punching against his chest, beseeching to be set free with just a couple of words. He really thought he was over it all, that he was keeping his promise to never see you anymore.

He really thought that he was over you.

I love how you gave Satoru a moment of false peace and allowed him to be lost in his dream world just to hit it again with the truck of reality. It’s so cruel yet so delicious. I imagine this moment as everything went slow-motion in Satoru’s POV when he heard her name and then *ting* a moment of realization. A realization that no matter how hard he tries to distract or lie to himself that everything will be fine, it’s really not, not until he acknowledges his true desire or that shit will eat him up for the rest of his life. LOVE IT.

He didn't think that his best friend would really go for you after only a few months of your break up with him. He shouldn't be the one to talk, but he felt betrayed.

This makes me want to use him as a sandbag and start going to town on him. The medicine sure is bitter now, huh, Hoejo?

"It's none of your fucking business-" Satoru could tell that Suguru's clenched fist was about to rise, ready to shake him out of his mind, but he saw you rushing beside him, hugging his arm before he could even prepare for the punch.

Okay, the Suguru and Satoru brawl almost happened here. It wasn’t a lie when I said I want to see them dug it out lol, but I like the way things turned out to be bc there’s no way Y/N or Rie would let it happen in their presence. Those boys can only do that in private tbh.

"Suguru, it's not worth the trouble." You shook your head to Suguru before looking back at Satoru with nothing but indifference in your eyes.

You weren't crying this time, but your hand was obviously trembling.

There was an anxious yet determined look in your eyes, and Suguru could tell that you were really trying your best and braving your way through this.

And so many more moments after this…..

IM SO PROUD OF Y/N IN THIS CHAPTER (of course that doesn’t mean it’s the same with a certain action of her). She does have the strength and the calmness to face Satoru. Yes, the wound is still fresh, but she’s trying. She’s trying so hard. AND I LOVE TO SEE IT. I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME. I also love how it doesn’t matter if the people she cares about hurt or love her, she doesn’t make a decision concerning them out of spite but genuinely takes their feelings into consideration. Like with the way she understands why Satoru would feel betrayed and emphasizes how it will affect his friendship with Suguru overall more than their relationship. Her love for others always feels so pure to me, whether it’s platonic or romantic.

She had Satoru wrapped around her pretty, dainty fingers with just one kiss. Yet you couldn't even make him stay with your five years of devotion.

Kai, this part almost killed me dead and made me wail like a bitch. Stupid Satoru. Why are you like this? Why??? *beat him with a stick like a piñata

Even if she wasn't pleased about how Satoru had been acting, she couldn't help but think that maybe this could be the closure that the two of you need. Maybe this talk can finally set the two of you free. Perhaps this little event is the key to the peaceful, normal, and stable relationship that he wants with Satoru.

Or the thing that breaks it. Yikes. Girl, did you forget the way your man act just by listening to his ex’s name and how he stormed to his best friend’s house? And OMG, when Y/n suggested that she and Satoru talk at her place, is it also mirrored to that night Satoru brought Rie home? WHAT IN THE PARALLEL???ADSKDLAKDALDALKDAS Except unlike that time, instead of a make-out session, he FUCKED Y/N in their old place. I know I should feel bad and I am, of course, disapproved of both Satoru’s and Y/N’s actions, but the irony in this makes me cackling like crazy. Serve you right, bitch!

And once again, there’s also a parallel with the way both Y/N and Rie react to Satoru after his respective cheating. Rie felt bad for being the catalyst of their breakup, but she accepted Satoru’s advances anyway while Y/N does everything she can to block him out of her life and just move on.

"Call me if something happens," Suguru whispered down to you, kissing your forehead before letting you go.

At this point, Sugu x Y/N or not, I just adore the way he treats Y/N. It’s no doubt filled with love and actual care yet it’s still so respectful. The casual affection, the way they’re so considerate to each other’s feelings makes my heart melts. He’s a whole king I swear. I don’t think this ship is sunk yet, but I don’t mind if they stay friends. Y/N deserves to have someone like him in her life.

He wished this would be over soon so that you could finally be free from them all.

Unfortunately, God (Kai) doesn’t want the angst to stop just yet lol. I’m so sorry baby Suguru, but keep praying and maybe your wish will come true. (1/3)

i actually feel like the cliffhangers are aggravating some readers now 😭 im really sorry but dw these cliffhangers have a following event to them, i promise LMAO

the first point from the story, gosh. i would literally bawl my eyes out if my partner calls out their ex's name in sleep 😭 like that hurts a lot. definitely yearning for the ex :')) and yeah, something really changed after that party. probably bc he finally saw yn break down and he realized that he's truly weak for her but just wouldn't admit it. the slow-motion moment when he heard yn's name definitely happened. man was blind for a couple of minutes as he ran to his car 😭 he was beyond surprised when he heard it. AND the piñata beating is sending me LMAOO 💀 im glad that you caught on to the parallels tho 👀i wanted to make it happen in the car as well but that would be too obvious so i said, lets just go inside the flat😂

AND OHMYGOD that suguru x yn interaction before she left is just 😩💕I HAD TO TAKE A PAUSE FROM WRITING and i read it over and over again as i imagined it LMAO he's so sweet~ but that was like a moment before disaster LMAO

@my-arietta it's this one 😭IM SORRY i got multiple windows open LMAO

#🍭—kaitalks #f: permanent mark

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kaylawritesfics · 2 years

Note

Hot take, (ok honestly probably not that controversial I've seen numerous agree) but Mike and Eleven shouldn't be together. This isn't about Byler at all, Mike and El are just toxic for each other. Mike told El what she wanted to hear, that she loves him, and they're STILL having relationship problems. They are way too dependent on each other, and El is just not ready for a romantic relationship imo. El still needs to work on herself, she needs to work past her traumas and PTSD. As other Anon said, Mike has been reduced to El's boyfriend since S3, and Mike also needs to work on himself. He's emotionally distant, and he tries to forget his trauma, but that's not his fault it's the way he was raised. Finn is such an amazing actor, Mike could be an awesome character and its sad to see the Duffers basically throw that away.

Unrelated side note, seeing Mike and Hopper hug at the end of ep 9 was heartwarming, they wanted to choke each other during S3 so it's nice to see them get along. Kinda hoping to see those two team up for s5

STRANGER THINGS VOL 2 SPOILERS

this is a take that i also mildly agree with. i am the biggest byler shipper and i would love to see them together (even though will is lowkey too good for mike). this is gonna be a long one buckle up pals.

eleven was like what, maybe 12 (?) when she met mike. she was young and vulnerable and had just gone through the worst things you could imagine. she could literally barely speak coherent sentences. there was absolutely no reason for her to be in such an intense relationship that young. she needed time to process and grieve for herself but instead, she was thrown into a very heavily dependent relationship with a boy that she barely even knew. they were cute, yes, but as they got older, their relationship just became so confusing.

mike, on the other hand, needs to grow up a little away from eleven. i think that the time apart really did good for mike because he was much more bearable this season than he was last season, at least in my opinion. i really want him to develop as a character and develop relationships outside of eleven. i feel like he may have hardcore abandonment issues and separation anxiety, which creates a really difficult dynamic when it comes to mileven.

anyway, i was never a hardcore mileven shipper. they have cute moments but i will not lie to you guys, when max was introduced, i liked the idea of her and mike together. obviously, i’m glad that her and lucas got together but that scene with max and mike in the gym while she’s skateboarding had little me blushing and kicking my feet.

also i absolutely teared up at the hug between hopper and mike i hope we get more positive interactions with them. mike needs a father figure desperately his dad sucks ass

#*kaylatalkstoomuch

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rhaenyras · 8 months

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Who are some of your favourite writers for specific things and feelings ? So like who does character the best, who does story/narrative best, whose writing is the most beautiful, who does romantic love, humour or tenderness or anything you like best ? Who made you cry the first time you read them ? Who do you return to when you need comfort ? (you can answer any or none of these or add your own, I just thought I’d be more specific than who’s your favourite lol).

oh, such a saucy imaginative question!! i love it. i am sorry to say I don't particularly fixate on the writers too much, though. i tend to remember the art, not the artist. so there are specific books i read and appreciated at different times in my life, for different reasons, and i got a different kind of thrill out of each of them, but I can't say i often went back to the same writer in the hopes of recreating that same feeling i previously felt while reading one of their other books. not even i am that nostalgic!!! but I'll try extra to answer your question at the best of my capabilities

taylor jenkins reid: from her i read the seven husbands of evelyn hugo (in two single sittings), malibu rising and daisy jones and the six, in that order.... and the way she handles narrative is so catchy and engaging. i can truly trust her books to capture and keep my attention till the end. + her bittersweet endings always manage to snatch a tear or two out of me

gillian flynn: LOVE the female characters she writes. i only read gone girl and sharp objects from her, to be fair, but the viciousness, murky nature and sheer commanding presence of her female characters are undeniable

mikhail bulgakov: only read his "heart of a dog" and "master and margarita" but it was enough to make this writer my absolute favourite when it comes to humor and political satire. his witty writing belonging to the subgroup of magical realism aka my favourite literary aesthetic from the xx century permanently saved him a spot in my heart

agatha christie: probably my go-to comfort writer. whenever i feel sad, overwhelmed and just wanna ignore the world for a while, I'll dive into one of her murder mysteries, knowing that i can never go wrong. from her works i have read "the murder of roger ackroyd" and "the seven dial mystery". will probably start a new one after posting this!!

then there's of course virginia woolf, elsa morante, elena ferrante, toni morrison, jean rhys, isabel allende, madeline miller, margaret atwood, george martin, catherynne m. valente ... they've all been pivotal in my coming of age years when i was trying to develop my own writing style and ideas.

but i cannot stress this enough....most of my favourite books/works/essays weren't even covered in this list because I barely singled out the writer's style or personality when i was reading their work, as i was entirely engulfed in the book itself (a foolproof sign that a book is truly good imo), and i never went back to read more stuff from that same author for one reason or the other (a few notable examples of this are "dracula" by bram stoker, "lolita" by nabokov, "cain" by jose saramago, "my dark vanessa" by kate e. russell, "house of names" by colm toiblin etc. etc.)

#hope that makes sense!!!! im such a girlfailure even as a girlreader smh #ask #anon #anonymous

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randoimago · 1 year

Note

Same anon as before, but could you also do Danganronpa for your ask game?

Fandom Ask Game

Oh Danganronpa... This is a mix of all the games (the anime is mentioned, but I don't really use any of the characters in this)

Also the favorite characters are hard so I chose one from each game (I didn't do favorite from Despair Girls just because there's not as many characters to choose from, but Toko is my favorite in those games specifically)

my favorite female character -

Chihiro Sakura, She's super cool and is doing her best to keep everyone safe despite things. I definitely cheered when I saw her little easter egg in the 2nd game.

Chiaki, I mean Ultimate Gamer already drew me in, but once I learned about her and as the game kept going I just wanted to adopt her. She's amazing and needs a nice, long nap.

God Kaede's introduction was so interesting and then the switch up?? (I mean V3 had a lot of switch up's, but you know). I love her so much especially getting to do the dumb board game thing after the game and seeing her interactions with others.

my favorite male character -

🥰 Chihiro 🥰he's just doing his best and I love him for it. He's so strong and a child I will protect (and he deserves a hug).

Komaeda. He is just so freaking interesting and I don't defend or condone his actions at all, but he's such an interesting character.

Kaito. I am so surprised by the lack of Kaito content I've seen. Like I love Shuichi and Kokichi too, but where is my boy Kaito at? He just wants to be an astronaut.

my favorite book/season/etc -

I think the 2nd game is my favorite tbh. I love pretty much all the characters (Hiyoko is on thin fucking ice) and it's such an interesting twist (the anime also really made me really love these babes).

my favorite cast member -

This is another game where choosing a favorite voice actor is so difficult because they all do fantastic. I'll have to go with Bryce Papenbrook though because the switch he makes from Makoto to Komaeda is so good.

my favorite ship -

This is so hard because there are so many cute relationships that happen. Probably Chiaki/Hajime. It's just so bittersweet, especially when watching the anime after knowing what happens.

a character I’d die defending -

Nagisa, my poor child. He's gone through so much and then having to deal with Monaca. He's just a baby and I

a character I just can’t sympathize with -

There's quite a few characters tbh. It really is, they have great aesthetics but I just can't stand the characters 😅

But I have to go with Junko. I really don't like her character. Again, her design is fantastic, but god do I want to tear her to pieces (again)

a character I grew to love -

Maki. I usually end up being so over the antisocial, threatening types. But I really enjoyed her character development and the whole relationship she developed with Kaito.

my anti otp -

Junko with anyone. I've seen some stuff with her and Makoto or her and Tsumiki and it's not for me.

#mod kat speaks #ask game answers

0 notes

txemrn · 1 year

Note

For the year end asks...

3, 11, 15, 19, and 23

Hey, fran!

Truth be told... I probably enjoy that series a little too much (for obvious reasons LOL)! Thank you so much for sending in these Asks! Let's have some fun, shall we?

3-- Favorite Line/Scene you wrote this year

One of the most memorable scenes for me comes from Chapter 4 from Pour Two Glasses, when Riley asks Drake if he believes in God and the afterlife.

“I lift my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?” Drake smirks, opening his eyes to stare at the ornate cross on the wall. “My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” He falls silent again, chewing on his mouth, Riley’s full attention on him. He nervously looks down at his mindless hand-wringing as he takes another deep breath. “As kids, anytime we had a problem, Moma would say, ‘Fix those eyes to the hills. The Lord promises to help you.’” He becomes quiet again, his eyes rapidly blinking as he sucks in his bottom lip. “Then Dad died.”

Riley endearingly pats his shoulder, tears slowly cascading down her cheeks.

“And–” Drake sarcastically chuckles, forcing away his own sobs, “I looked. I looked, and I fucking kept looking to the hills because ‘he promises to help you.’” He blows out a breath, wiping at his lower eyelids. “Dad was gone… and God was no where to be found.” His jaw becomes rigid, his words cutting like a blade. “The Crown cut the funds almost immediately after Dad died, leaving us stranded. I looked, but there was no help from… from God. And then Moma left us…” He sniffles, his hands casually balling into fists. “She just… left us. And I looked–I fucking begged for God’s help. If not for me, then at least for Savannah. But… ” He shakes his head.

Riley remains silent, taking in Drake’s painful memory.

“But,” his voice lightens, more hopeful, “I still keep looking–as fucking stupid as that sounds,” he laces his fingers together, “I have to believe and look for him–for God.”

“Why?”

“Because the thought of being alone–completely alone in this world with no one to turn to?” He peers intently into Riley’s eyes, his voice softening into a small whisper. “That terrifies me… but the thought that my dad is really gone? That–that I can’t talk to him in heaven–?” Drake chokes up. “And now Liam? And–and soon my… my Moma?” He runs his hands down his face. “I have to believe, Ri. I just… have to.”

11-- The fandom you enjoyed writing for the most this year

You're going to get me in trouble. I will say, I have thoroughly enjoyed writing for Open Heart this year, mainly because of 3 things: 1) I got to spend my time, developing a character and her relationship. As you know, Tatum is an OC, so I literally was making up everything, and trying to mix her life with the convoluted story of OPH. 2) Getting to insert little tidbits of my true passion into my writing has been so much fun. Not that I haven't done this with TNA or TRR (or even my little soiree with WTD--remember Covid vaccines? lol), but it's been a lot of fun writing for a couple of doctors! 3) I got to meet some incredible writers and readers that otherwise, I would've never would've interacted with.

15-- Something you learned this year

So. Many. Lessons... but this one sticks out. Sometimes the higher road is quiet and lonely, but it's the most loving thing you can do.

19-- Any New fics to start next year?

Yes! I have 2 that I am personally obsessed with that I'm hoping to start releasing after the new year (The TNA one I'm hoping to release for TNA AW!).

Like Ships in the Night Open Heart; it's a "series" built of mini-stories of when Ethan and Tatum missed seeing each other during their 15 years apart. If you read OPH, you will notice some popular plot points...

Never Really Over The Nanny Affair; this is a sequel to Once... Always... It takes place 10 years after the end of TNA; Sam and Brynn have recently divorced after she found him having an affair with their nanny. But just because they broke up doesn't mean they stopped loving each other. Desperate to get her back, Brynn gives in, agreeing to give Sam one more chance... on one condition: abstaining for 30 days.

23-- Fics you wanted to write, but didn't

BAHAHAHA! Girl... you already know all of my lightbulb moments, but then I realize I don't have time. LOL You know about my Drake RomCom fics (where I leave our precious Bean alone!). I think I've shared with you my 2 Open Heart Mini-Series Knotted and Bumped. I have to finished Ricochet, though before I can even dive into those because I've got some twists to throw out there.

Thanks again for sending these to me, sweet friend! 🖤

#end of the year asks #texemrn #hey queue

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rafaelblackbird15 · 3 years

Text

Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 2: Steter

It took me quite awhile to gather all these together, so please enjoy discovering more parts to the incredible world of Teen Wolf, provided to you by the wonderful writers of our fandom.

Leave comments and kudos for these writers if you can, they really deserve it, they're wonderful. And it's my honour to try and share their creations with tumblr.

These are Steter, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale fanfictions. Read them at your will. Check the tags on the actual fics for warnings and such.

I have included links to authors that write a lot of Steter as well, and some of their fics for examples. I'm sorry this post got so long, haha, but enjoy the stories, they're worth it.

If any of the links don't work, just comment and I'll fix it.

Check out my other Sterek fic recs [Part 3] and [Part 4] and Steter fic recs [Part 1]

*********

Broken Bones and Broken Bonds by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 20148

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles kind of wished that he’d at least tried weed before this.

Or something, you know? Maybe taken up a graffiti hobby, or even just skateboarded in front of City Hall often enough to get a citation.

He wished he’d done something to be deserving of the looks people gave him now, rather than just being the recipient of his dead father’s unused power.

**********

Stigmata by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1661

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He feels so hollow that he almost wonders if he's been turned inside out. This emptiness he feels; is it the vastness of the entire world?

How do you fill a world? With people, he supposes. But his people no longer want him.

He needs people.

*********

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 14565

Chapters: 7/7

Summary:

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

"Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them."

What the f—

**********

Steter Week 2019 by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Works: 4

Complete: No

Summary:

There isn't a summary listed so I've included the first fic underneath:

Marvelous Miss and Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Words: 3346

Chapters: 1/1

also Part 1 of the Magnificent Mischief series

Summary:

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

********

Author: twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

This author has a lot of wonderful Steter fics, and their writing of the pairing is really worth having a good look through.

*******

Blood Runs Cold by Smalls2233 on Archive of Our Own

Words: 111408

Chapters: 22/22

Summary:

“So then why are we letting Scott and Derek search for it if you know it's useless?”

Peter looked down at Stiles and cocked his head with a grin. “Because I think seeing my nephew and your best friend run around like headless chickens while I think up a plan is hysterical.”

“And the plan is…?”

----

Trusting Peter Hale is something that Stiles had repeatedly told himself to never do. He had seen first hand the results of Peter's plans and schemes, but when a shadow began tormenting Beacon Hills, he found that sometimes he'd have to to play along with Peter's games.

This story does include a dose of Chris&Stiles interaction about midway and carries on throughout, and then Chris/Peter towards the midend, which also carries on. And it kind of dissolves into Chris/Peter/Stiles. If that's not your taste, that's fine, because the majority of the story is Stiles/Peter, and that majority is really really good Steter.

**********

No One Listening Tonight by Smalls2233

Words: 6985

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That left… well it left Peter and only Peter. Relying on Peter for help was only slightly better than stabbing himself through the eye with a hot poker. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Of course, there was always the option of packing up and letting whatever was trying to destroy the town succeed this time. Stiles snorted under his breath as he thought about how that would probably leave him with fewer injuries than dealing with Peter would. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Stiles knew he needed to head downtown to Peter’s apartment and pray the man was willing to work with him.

----

Stiles stumbles into a magical trap forged by a wannabe warlock.

*********

Author: Smalls2233

*********

Blue by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3179

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

*********

The Long Way Around by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 15569

Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

When Peter leaves Beacon Hills for good, he expects that to be it for the broken bonds of the last remaining members of the Hale pack. Fate and Stiles Stilinski aren’t of the same opinion.

**********

Prowl by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3454

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Laura's body is never found, but instead of continuing with his murder spree, Peter gets distracted by the scent of his mate. Stiles gets very distracted by the huge wolf that starts showing up at his house all the time.

**********

Author: Wynnebat

This author writes some really interesting, deep stories about Steter that are really beautiful.

**********

your last white lie (everything is not alright) by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4023

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles says yes, and things go downhill from there.

**********

reflect by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 569

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

(previously posted to tumblr)

When he dreams, he can sometimes still hear his mother’s voice, explaining it to him: Reflections are the price we pay for what we are.

*********

sentire by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1027

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

[to feel]

Stiles hears the whisper of death before it strikes.

**********

Author:

snowdarkred

This author writes some really intense, interesting stories about Peter and Stiles. Not as long as some fics are, but they're really good adaptions of Steter with a lot of feeling.

**********

The Striking Complication by aurevell on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27235

Chapters: 4/15

Summary:

The smile slips off Stiles’s face. “Hey, um. Why am I here?” he asks, voice unsteady. “I’m—I have this weird feeling like I shouldn’t leave you. I’ve felt all day like...” He can’t finish the thought.

Peter looks as surprised as Stiles feels. A strange expression passes over his face, there and gone before Stiles can decipher it.

Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move.

Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

*******

Author: aurevell

This author has 11 Teen Wolf fics under their belt. 5 Sterek and 6 Steter. Happy rummaging!

**********

the teeth right down to the blood by sazzafraz on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2133

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

‘We’re pretty fucked right now.’ Scott says. Stiles doesn’t speak but there’s something singing in his bones that says Scott got the message anyway. (In which both are bit and things are gruesome.)

This has a sprinkling of Scott/Stiles, Scott/Stiles/Peter, and Scott/Allison as well as Steter, but it's worth the read, a good story with an interesting concept.

*********

Author: sazzafraz

This author doesn't have that many Steter stories, although they do have a few. Although they do have some pretty lengthy Teen Wolf fics about other characters of the show.

***********

Everything goes (wow) by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8215

Chapters: 5/5

Part 1 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

It was supposed to go like this:

1. Peter summons demon to the circle.

2. Demon remains in said circle until Peter outlines their contract.

3. Demon agrees to elegantly crafted contract, becoming loyally bound to Peter and Peter alone.

Instead, the creature steps casually out of the circle, tosses its things onto the leather sofa, and starts immediately meddling in Peter’s immaculate space, touching all of Peter’s very expensive things.

*********

It's only by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2905

Chapters: 3/5

Part 2 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

“Darling, please don’t pout.”

“You’re pouting.” Stiles pouts, from the upper corner of the library, everything from his hip bones down an angry mass of hissing fangs and venomous chelicerae. “Why would we ever go back to that garbage town? Everyone there is the worst, the only good thing is the very rad and awesome curse I laid.”

*********

You are a memory by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 900

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the Little glimpse series

Summary:

If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

********

Author: midmorning_bomb

This author has 16 Steter fics. A little unfriendly to some of the other characters, but it's only kind of obvious because it's not subtle about it, and not exactly underserved. Has some really interesting ideas as well as some kind, well developed Steter. Definitely have a read through.

***********

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Full Service {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! this idea was rolling around in my brain for a while, but it took a bit for me to get it just right. so, here’s the final finished product!

**I used a translation app for all of the Italian in this story, so I apologize for any mistakes or grammatical errors. all Italian will be in italics, with the translations following the dialogue in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. maurizio calling reader “tesoro”™️. a tiny bit of fluff at the very end. maid/boss roleplay (lowkey?? except reader’s actually a maid lol). oral. no aftercare. dirty talk and name-calling/degradation, but in italian ;)

(possible) tw’s: indifelity/extramarital affair. implied age gap (reader is over 21, no more than 10 years difference).

word count: 2.7k

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname).

You’d just begun cleaning the marbled kitchen when Mr. Gucci arrives home. You turn around and offer him a small smile, which he ignores, shrugging the briefcase off his shoulder.

He immediately walks into his office and shuts the door without a single word or glance, and you probably wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the evening. That’s usually how it went. Patrizia wasn’t home yet, a surprise considering she’s usually home all day when you come to clean.

You’ve developed quite the crush for Mr. Gucci as of late, although you’d never admit it aloud. He was a bit older than you, not to mention married. But, you couldn’t help it, he was unbelievably handsome, successful, and quick-witted when he wanted to be. Usually after a drink or two.

But, he was a man very dedicated to his work, which often left him with a stern demeanor and a harsh tone of voice. He barely paid you mind, especially not when work was waiting for him in his office.

You continued to clean for another hour or so; it was a mansion, after all, and the kitchen was at least three times the size of your bedroom. Plus, the extensive marble surfaces and stainless steel appliances require your full service. You were so immersed in your work that you didn’t even notice Mr. Gucci’s presence behind you.

Only when you turned around did you realize not only him, but the close proximity between your bodies. You gasp, backing up against the cabinetry.

“Oh! Signore Gucci, mi scuso. Non sapevo che ci fossi.” (Oh! Mr. Gucci, my apologies. I didn’t know you were there.)

His eyes look you up and down for a brief moment before returning to meet yours, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“Va bene, piccoletto. Non volevo farti da parte.” (It’s alright, little one. I didn’t mean to startle you.)

He sighs, looking away.

“Volevo informarvi che Patrizia non tornera stasera. Ha deciso di restare la notte in una casa di amici.” (I wanted to inform you that Patrizia won’t be coming back this evening. She’s decided to stay the night at a friends house.)

You could sense that there was something else going on, but you didn’t prod further, deciding that it was none of your business. You nod up at him, a bit confused as to why he’s telling you this. And why he has to be standing so damn close to tell you.

“Grazie per avermi informato, signore. Ho quasi finito di pulire la giornata, quindi saro via tra un’ora circa.” (Thank you for letting me know, sir. I am almost done cleaning for the day, so I’ll be gone in an hour or so.)

Maurizio reaches his hand up to hold the side of your face, thumb swiping across your bottom lip. You freeze, tensing beneath his touch.

“Da quando hai iniziato a lavorare qui, ho trovato sempre piu difficile concentrarsi sul mio lavoro. Sai perche, piccoletto?” (You know, ever since you began working here, I’ve found it more and more difficult to focus on my work. Do you know why that is, little one?)

“No, signore, non lo so.” (No, sir, I don’t know.)

He runs a single finger down from my lips, tracing a straight line over my throat before it toys with the collar of my uniform.

“La tua uniforme...mi sta distrando.” (Your uniform is...distracting for me.)

The breath hitches in your throat as his fingers rub the material of the smoothed-down collar. His gaze flicks down to where his thumb and forefinger are.

“Quando ti vedo,” (Whenever I see you,)

He begins, leaning in a little closer.

“Trovo che i miei pantaloni cominciino a sentirsi stretti, il che e strano perche ho sistemato tutto il mio costume.” (I find that my pants begin to feel tight, which is strange because I have all of my suits custom fitted.)

You nearly choke on your breath as his hand travels down the curves of your body, traversing the scoop of your hip before resting just above the hem of your uniform dress.

“E strano, sig. Gucci.” (That is odd, Mr. Gucci.)

His hand begins massaging the side of your thigh gently, and he leans down just a bit further, mouth now right in front of your ear. His hot breath sends a chill down your spine.

“Sta succedendo adesso, in effetti. Pensi di potermi aiutare con questo problema, Y/N?” (It’s happening right now, in fact. Do you think you could help me with this problem, Y/N?)

He presses you up against the cabinets, bodies flush together. A small groan escapes his lips when his obvious erection slides on your lower stomach.

You’ve never been as perplexed and aroused as you are in this moment. The burn between your thighs is nearly unbearable, and as much as you hate to admit it, you wanted this.

“Sono al suo servizio, signore.” (I am at your service, sir.)

Maurizio smirks, hooking a finger under the hem and pulling the stretchable fabric of your uniform dress out, then releasing it, allowing it to snap back into place on your outer thigh.

“In ginocchio, piccoletto.” (On your knees then, little one.)

Without hesitation, you slide down onto your knees, mouth watering as you look up at him, awaiting his next command. He cups your cheek, gently swiping his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Bellissima e obbediente, capisco. Bene, bene.” (Beautiful and obedient, I see. Good, good.)

You bite your lip as he pats your cheek, then runs a hand over the bulge in his pants, sighing softly at the contact. His fingers curl up underneath, cupping and squeezing his balls while his thumb presses down on the head, rubbing it. He groans, letting out a shaky breath afterwards.

“Vedi cosa mi fai fare, Y/N? Devo scendere e massaggiarmi cosi, togliendo tempo di lavoro prezioso.” (Do you see what you make me do, Y/N? I have to reach down and rub myself like this, taking away precious work time.)

You’re soaked already, clit throbbing, begging for attention. You whine softly, chewing your lip as you resist the urge to lunge forward and run your face over his clothed length.

He smirks.

“Questo ti eccita, piccolo? Ti piace immaginarmi di toccarmi cosi nel mio ufficio?” (Does that thought excite you, little one? Do you like imagining me touching myself like this in my office?)

Your eager nod only spurs him on, hips pushing forward into his palm. He quickly takes his hand away, taking a small step closer so that the bulge is mere centimeters from your lips. Your jaw slacks and your breath becomes hot and heavy, mouth eager to worship him.

His large hand gently wraps around the back of your head, pushing your head forward, encouraging you to touch him. You don’t require any further invitation, mouthing at his length while your nose drags against it.

He widens his stance, spreading his legs apart as his hips start to grind against your mouth.

“Oh, e cosi entusiasta. Mi piace, merda.” (Oh, she’s so eager. I love it, shit.)

The back of your head begins to hurt as it’s pressed further and further against the cabinet handles, but you don’t care, reaching around to grab his ass to pull him further into you. Even he seems surprised by this, asscheeks clenching as he suddenly thrusts forward with a low grunt.

Maurizio wraps his hands in your hair, keeping you still as he pulls back, chest heaving slightly. His pupils are blown wide and he grabs your chin, thumb pressing down into the flesh.

“Apri bene.” (Open wide.)

He says, grinning down at you as he begins pulling his belt buckle loose.

Soon, he undoes his pants and pulls himself out from beneath the restrictive material, humming in satisfaction as his length bobs in front of you. His hands rest on either side of your head as he guides his weeping head towards your mouth. You open for him, and he leans forward, pushing into your mouth.

You immediately begin choking and gagging, but he just keeps going, pushing inch after inch inside. His abdomen tenses and his back curls when he’s shoved all of himself in your mouth, letting out a shaky exhale.

“Cosi, oh bella ragazza, e cosi bella la bocca.” (That’s it, oh good girl, such a good mouth.)

You’re forced to remain still as your throat constricts, head pinned against the cabinets with his hands on either side. Once you adjust to the new intrusion, Maurizio pulls back before thrusting forward again, growling under his breath.

“Cazzo, e una cosa buona per me.” (Fuck, that’s good, so good for me.)

All you can do is moan as your boss begins fucking your mouth, eyelids brimming with tears at the constant touch of his tip on your uvula. He bends over, supporting himself on the counter with an arm while his hand tightens in your hair, thrusts getting faster.

“Guarda questa bocca che mi allunga per il cazzo. Che brava ragazza, prendendo il cazzo dei capi come se fosse troia.” (Look at this little mouth stretching out for my cock. What a good girl, taking her bosses cock like the slut she is.)

You moan loudly, hand swiftly snaking down between your legs, fingertips pressing on the throbbing nub to provide relief. When he sees you do this, it only seems to encourage him further, one foot scooting forward so that he’s now almost completely bent over you.

His hips are becoming desperate, now, losing their rhythm as his inevitable release builds.

“Ah, sapevo che avresti avuto una bella bocca, Y/N. Ho sempre saputo che saresti ansioso di prendere il mio uccello, disposto a lasciarti usare cosi.” (Ah, I knew you’d have a good little mouth, Y/N. I always knew you’d be eager to take my cock, willing to let me use you like this.)

You’re sobbing around him now, tears streaming down your cheeks at the sheer intensity of the arousal you’re experiencing. He looked so good like this: hair a mess, glasses fogged, panting and grunting with each thrust, all while he slams his cock into your mouth without relent.

Suddenly, he pulls out and stumbles back, hands gripping the edge of the countertop as he catches his breath. He stares down at you with a look of pure hunger, of carnal lust, and it makes you shudder.

“Alzati e piegati al bancone. Subito.” (Stand up and bend yourself over the counter. Now.)

He strokes himself rapidly as you stand up on shaky legs and bend over, spreading your legs. He’s quick to come up behind you, grabbing your hips to pull you back a bit so that your hips were off the edge.

You gasp when he yanks the skirt up over your hips, revealing your creamy globes and the red lace thong nestled between them. He growls, making quick work of your panties, shoving them down off your hips before running his fingers along your folds delicately, just barely brushing them.

Maurizio smirks when your hips try to grind down on him, seeking the friction you so desperately needed. He smacks your ass promptly, causing a choked cry to leave your throat.

“Stai fermo, Y/N.” (Stay still, Y/N.)

Two of his digits suddenly breach your soaked entrance, pushing up into you. You gasp softly, hips jerking slightly as he begins fucking his thick fingers up into you. His hand spreads across your lower back, keeping you still as he curls his digits up to rub and tease that spongy spot on your walls.

“C-Cazzo, sig. Gucci, ti prego. Scopami, la voglio cosi male.” (F-Fuck, Mr. Gucci, please. Please fuck me, I want it so badly.)

He grins, giving your g-spot a few more rubs before pulling his fingers out, smearing the slick over your lips.

“Succhiali, piccoletto. Assaggiati sulle dita.” (Suck them, little one. Taste yourself on my fingers.)

You open your mouth and moan around his digits as you suck them clean, tongue swirling around them before he takes them out. His tip pokes at your entrance and he runs himself over your folds to collect some lubricant before positioning himself behind you.

“Pronta?” (Ready?)

You don’t even have time to respond before he shoves his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you. Your eyes almost bug out of your skull before squeezing shut, a loud gasp coming from your lips. He isn’t necessarily hung, but he’s certainly the biggest and thickest you’ve ever taken.

His fingers dig into your hips as he remains still, allowing you to adjust to his size. After a moment, he draws back before thrusting forward again, building a steady rhythm with his hips. Small noises come from his lips as he fucks you into the countertop.

“Si, cazzo. Cosi stretto e piccolo, sapevi di sentirti bene circondato dal mio uccello.” (Yes, fuck yes. So tight and little, knew you’d feel good wrapped around my cock.)

Your insides clench at his whispered words.

“Quante volte ci ha pensato, signore?” (How many times have you thought of this, sir?)

“Troppi per contare.” (Too many to count.)

He growls, hips suddenly bucking forward out-of-rhythm.

“Ogni volta che mi sono toccata, ho pensato a te, a questa stronzetta. Mi chiedevo se fossi stretto e ho pensato che sarebbe bello dividerla a meta con il mio cazzo.” (Every time I touched myself, I thought of you, of this little cunt. I wondered if you’d be tight, and I thought of how good it’d feel to split you in half with my cock.)

Maurizio puts his hand under your thigh and puts it up on the counter, bending down so his chin rests on your shoulder.

“Te lo sei immaginato anche questo, piccolo? Hai pensato a me quando ti sei toccata?” (Did you imagine this too, little one? Did you think about me when you touched yourself?)

You nod.

“Si, signore. Ti pensavo cosi, immaginavo che fossero le tue dita dentro di mi invece che le mie.” (I did, sir. I thought of you like this, imagined it was your fingers inside me instead of my own.)

“Ragazza sporca.” (Dirty girl.)

He snarls, pounding into you harder, hips spurred on by your words.

You’re close, now, walls beginning to pulse around him. He feels this, one hand wrapping around your throat while the other trails down around your front, fingers seeking your clit.

His hand tightens around your neck, fingers gripping your jaw.

“Lo sento, tu sei vicino, piccolo. Forze, sborra intorno al mio uccello. Copri il tuo capo nella sporca fiaca e mostragli che porchetta sei.” (I can feel it, you’re close, little one. Come on, cum around my cock. Cover your boss in your filthy slick, show him what a little slut you are.)

With only a few circles over your erect clit, coupled with his cock stroking your walls rapidly and the dirty manner in which he was speaking to you, your release comes within seconds. You moan hoarsely, lungs depleted of some oxygen as his hand tightens around your throat.

“Cazzo, arrivo!” (Fuck, I’m cumming!)

He ruts desperately into you, chasing his climax as he fucks you through yours. At the last minute, he pulls out, furiously jerking his cock before thick hot ropes of cum shoot from his tip, painting your bare ass. He grunts and groans through the whole thing, stroking himself through it before squeezing the head, letting the final drop land on your skin.

Both of you take a moment to catch your breaths and re-center yourselves in reality. Maurizio tucks himself back into his pants before walking over to grab a paper towel, wetting it slightly. He wipes all the drying seed off of your skin for you, bending down to pull your panties back up and your dress back down.

Your legs are shaky as you stand back up, smoothing out the front of your uniform. Much to your surprise, Mr. Gucci didn’t leave right away, instead turning you around and bending down for a kiss.

The kiss was gentle and tender, a stark contrast to everything that's happened up until this point. His large hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ran along your cheekbone before he pulled away, offering you a small smile.

“Grazie, piccolo.” (Thank you, little one.)

You return the smile.

“Certo, signore.” (Of course, sir.)

Turns out, the marble and stainless steel weren’t the only things that required your full service today.

#adamdriverwriter #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #house of gucci #maurizio gucci #maurizio gucci smut #maurizio gucci x reader #maurizio gucci x you #maurizio gucci x reader smut #tw: extramarital affair #tw: infidelity

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football-writing · 3 years

Text

Mason Mount - Always

Prompt: I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there's a life after that, I'll love you then

Summary: Mason and Y/N have been in love forever. It takes a graduation dinner for him to finally come clean about his feelings.

Warnings: friends to lovers aye, mentions of graduation, some tears were shed but it's all good! Also very little dialogue bc i wanted to try something different :)

If someone asked him how long he's been in love with her, he wouldn't know what to tell them. It had developed gradually, really.

First they were friends, meeting for the first time as she got transferred to his school. She'd been quite the character. On the frist day she was there, she'd asked the boys if she could play football with them. They said no girls were allowed, so she stole the ball from one of Mason's friends, dribbled around two other boys and kicked the ball right between the legs of the goalie. He'd admired her then, her cheekiness bringing a boyish grin to his face, and they easily hit it off. She would never allow him to go easy on her, although she would sometimes get in a mood when he'd win for the twentieth time that day. He'd cheer her up and ask her to play at his house, playing boardgames and watching cartoons as they chatted amongst themselves every schoolday.

She'd slowly grown out of playing football with him; clearly they were on different levels entirely nowadays. Still, they remained close friends. He'd gone off to London, then, and it was hard at first. But they would call all the time (he hated phonecalls, but she said she preferred hearing his voice, and so he called her almost daily) and she would come to his home games to cheer him on. He had given her a Chelsea shirt with his name on it, and she'd joked that people would think they were together. The words left his mouth before he could register that he was talking: 'Would that be such a bad thing?' She had remained silent, but the blush that adorned her cheeks must've meant something, right?

It was a silly thing he said back then, though he often lets his mind wander back to that day. Perhaps he was just being ballsy, or joking around, gauging her reaction to a topic that she brought up. But somewhere after those words, the lines had blurred. Their goodbye hugs lingered a little longer, the gazes between them seeming to be softer - a little too soft for two people to just call themselves friends. He would take notice of the way she twirled her hair around her fingers when she was nervous, how her locks would shine in the sunlight. Her scent - sweet and faintly resembling the smell of spring - edged into his memory.

She had felt it, too. It started with missing him more than she used to when he was away for his job. She'd resorted to sleeping in one of his hoodies, just to miss him a little less. Then, she'd set one of their selfies together as her lockscreen, Mason pulling a silly face as she kissed his cheek. A smile would edge onto her face anytime she opened her phone. And when he'd lost a game and got all upset, biting his fingernails to hide his anxiousness, her heart would break for him too. She would do anything to cheer him up. Though, mostly she just wanted to hear his beautiful laugh ringing in her ears - the one that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes crease at the corners.

It wasn't something they spoke about, or ever acknowledged. But the pair was awfully aware of how much the line had blurred since that day on the playground.

But if asked about the moment he knew she was it for him? He'd tell them it was this very moment. Some would say it was cliché, that it was something straight out of a movie. And maybe it was. But he'd seen enough romcoms (he wished he could say it was courtesy of her, but really, he loved those films) to know that the movies hadn't described it well enough.

Because his breath did catch in his throat. His cheeks flushed as he saw her, heart beating louder than it would when he'd been running on the pitch. As she was walking down the stairs, floorlength dress accentuating her figure, her hair falling loosely and her make-up complementing the colour of her eyes perfectly. Her heels were still in her hands, and he fought the urge to smile. He knew how much she hated heels, and how her clumsy self would've probably fallen down the stairs if she'd put them on already. God he felt it all over his body - the hairs on his arms rose as the tingly feeling in his stomach spread through his body. He was so utterly and completely in love with her.

"Y/N. You look- I mean- I-." He tried to start, stammering over his words as his cheeks burned.

"D'you know what? I'll take that as a compliment, Mase." She laughed as she put her heels on.

"You should. Can't even find the words to describe how beautiful you look." He admitted as he groaned mockingly, holding his arm out for her to take so they could walk the short distance to the restaurant.

"Well that doesn't happen often, does it?"

The both of them joked some more as they walked together, before arriving at their destination.

It was her graduation diner. All her family and relatives were there, which to her included Mason. It was a good night, laughing and reminiscing on the past years, wondering about what the future holds as they not-so-subtly stole food from each other's plates.

That was, until her family started speeching. Some of her family members had prepared something, and she'd held Mason's hand tight;y in hers as she listened to all the encouraging words.

"Mason, son. Would you like to say something too?" Her dad asked.

"Uhh, well. I didn't really prepare anything, actually."

"I'm sure you can think of something. Stand up, son." He cursed himself for being so close to her dad. But he was right, he had something to say.

And so he begrudgingly scraped his chair back and stood up. Suddenly all eyes were on him, and although he should be used to that by now, he felt vulnerable. He cleared his throat and looked at her next to him, only to find her kind eyes already on him, an encouraging smile send his way enough to make him start speaking.

"Well. Y/N and I have known each other for years. She was always joking around, roughhousing with me and the boys, never giving a care in the world as long as she, and the people around her, are happy. She'll do anything her way, even if it's the wrong way, because she's too stubborn to admit her mistakes." Some of the guests chuckled, and he took a moment to smile before he continued on.

"That's just what she's like. And I admire that in her - in you." He directed his attention towards her now, as she looked up at him with large eyes. "You're not one to admit when you're upset or stressed, or when you need help. And I know these past few years have been hard on you, but I am so proud to see how you've handled everything. How you persevered through your struggles while still being true to yourself. I admire that in you, and it gives me strength, too. Maybe you're a bit of an inspiration of mine. And-" He had to swallow hard, then, and he glanced at her to gauge her reaction as he did. Tears were brimming in her eyes, and she would no doubt get mad at him later for ruining her make up. He had to swallow again.

"I guess what I'm saying is- It's been an honour to have been by your side through your highs and your lows. Seeing you grow from that little know-it-all girl into the strong woman you are now. And I can't wait to be by your side for everything else you're going to achieve." He sniffled then, wiping a sleeve underneath his own eyes to keep himself from crying in front of - quite literally- her entire family.

That sentiment had gone out the window for her, though, because she'd let the tears stream freely over her cheeks. Worry overtook him as the faintest of sobs left her lips, and so he quickly reached down to her. He held her face in his hands, thumbs wiping her cheeks dry as she let out a teary laugh.

"God, I'm so embarassing." She laughed as she took his hands from his face, resting them on her lap as she played with his fingers - something she had a habit of doing to calm herself down. "You could always become a speech writer if the football thing doesn't work out, though." She added, laughing slightly at her own joke as she tried to lighten the mood. She really hated feeling so vulnerable.

"You're not." He whispered back.

If there was any moment to tell her, this was it. So he mustered up all the courage he could find in himself to just tell her.

"And I'll support you through everything else. All the highs and lows and victories and defeats, I'll be there for you whenever you need me. Because- Because I love you."

Gasps were heard from around the table, but the only reaction he cared for was hers.

"You do?" Her voice was timid, questioning the extent of his words as she was still sniffling.

"I do. I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there's a life after that, I'll love you then."

"I- Mason."

She wasn't sure what to respond, so overwhelmed with emotions that she couldn't contain her tears overflowing her eyes for the second time that day. He was crying now too, though, albeit silently. The whirlwind of emotions she felt - that he so clearly reciprocated - were enough to confess her love for him too. Something she now felt they should've done much sooner.

"I love you too, Mason. Always and always and always." She repeated as she let her face fall in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as he held her inexplicably close to him, arms tight around her waist as they took in the moment. Their moment.

The other guests applauded, sniffled as they tried to hide their tears at the heartfelt moment, even cheered for the two of them.

But all of it went unheard.

Because who cares about what others think when you've got that kind of love right in front of you?

#Someone needs to teach me to keep things short because what the hell #i wanted to write something short and sweet #but the words start coming and they dont stop coming *to the all star - smash mouth tune*#And here we are lmao #but hope you enjoy it anyway!#Mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount oneshot #mason mount x reader

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vintagerain · 3 years

Text

Let’s talk about Genshin 2.1 ✨

Right! I did make a Post earlier about 2.0 regarding the Archon Quests and Mihoyo’s Godly writing team that involves the Traveler’s development.

But honestly I am so overwhelmed and in Shock by what I just witnessed right now that I’m sure what I’m about to say is even coherent. Whoever’s working on the story needs a raise, honestly.

Let’s talk about The Traveler.

The Traveler Is someone who genuinely cares about people and despite their fighting ability is certainly not violent. But the Fatui pushed them WAY too Far this time. The Traveler snapped. Teppei genuinely didn’t deserve what happened to him.

Rest In Peace Teppei✨

BUT WHAT I did not expect was the Signora Boss fight. I knew we would fight her but I didn’t think that’s how it would play out. I didn’t expect the Traveler to duel her in front of the Shogun. The Traveler has heard Kazuha’s story so she would fully understand that the loser was going to die. In that moment, I can’t help but think that the Traveler wanted Signora to die. Which is interesting because they’ve never really been murderous. This is also probably what led to the cutscene afterwards.

But anyway, I love Venti sooooo…

But I do have Questions. Is Signora really dead? I just find it hard to believe I guess?

Did Scaramouche set her up? At that point he’s probably had the Gnosis for a day or two so why did Signora continue to meet with the Shogun?

Also was Sara unconscious or dead? Because she definitely stopped moving… and I completed Baal’s story quest and she wasn’t mentioned despite being a part of the Kujou clan? Because if she is dead then that means playable characters aren’t immune to death. Also how the Harbingers making use of their Delusions of it’s so dangerous?

The part involving Kazuha was insane. As a Kazuha main, I am a little upset that we didn’t see him or Gorou more in the story. But his scene was truly heartbreaking especially when he left the vision shell behind at the grave in the last cutscene. But I’m also incredibly proud of him✨ But at the same time he gave me a heart attack running at her with Goddamn Fillet Blade.

I’m confused as to what made the vision reawaken though? Was it possibly his ambition to save his friend. Was this the same ambition that gave his friend his vision? I’m confused and on tears.

In any case, I will now be actively looking for that location with Kazuha. I hope we’re allowed to leave Flowers 🌻

In terms of Baal. In my personal opinion, I’m definitely more attached to Venti and Zhongli and honestly I don’t really have anything else to say about her.

In Terms of Scaramouche’s background!!

Now This was very interesting. I figured that he was related to Inazuma somehow but that was unexpected. I am genuinely curious to see how he plays out in the future. However, it is said that Ei began making the puppet centuries ago but definitely after Khaenriah which means that Scaramouche is roughly 500 years old. And immortal.

So that’s fun.

Do I like him? He’s not exactly in my good graces but I am so genuinely curious about him that I can’t say I dislike him either. Im definitely looking forward to seeing him again especially since Signora is gone. I’ll make a clearer judgment on him when I know what’s going through his head.

About the Gnoses.

The Gnoses has genuinely baffled me because up until this point it almost seems like not a single Archon actually cares about Celestia. They’re literally just handing them away. Yes, Signora did aggressively take it away from Venti but afterwards he was just like “sooo anyway….”

Like do you not care??

Although the Gnosis does give them an increase in power it seems as though it’s main function is to connect them to Celestia. But the Archons do not seem phased about losing said attachment as well as most of their power.

Venti was notorious for not using his Gnosis anyway and honestly he doesn’t seem all that eager to get it back. Zhongli handed his away, as he only kept it because he wanted to continue to look after Liyue. And Baal just gave it to her friend who traded it with ease. Yae Miko didn’t even know what it was.

On top of that. We now have confirmation that they are indeed modeled to look like chess pieces. I do now have a theory that they were all being controlled by their Gnoses in exchange for their power and the War with Khaenriah has made them all bitter towards the current ruler and they all wish to rebel in their own way. But THIS IS JUST A THEORY!! And it is my Own Personal Assumption so please take it with a grain of Salt!

Anywho. That’s all I have to say for now. I wish you all a Fantastic 2.1 and to those who are wishing on the Banners, May your wishes shine Gold!

Let me know what you think of The New Update and what you liked about it most. I quite like reading Comments and reblogs.😌

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slightlymore · 4 years

Text

no, thank you

part of the Pride Universe

jaemin x fem reader

others: haechan (mentioned in jaemin's thoughts but not present in the real plot)

genre: smut with plot, roommates au, mentions of university (jaemin is a med student), angst, fluff, very +18 tho

warnings: very! rough! smut! (brat taming, oral, masturbation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, denial, slight degradation, restriction, manhandling, bath tub is one of the locations), short mentions of mlm (jaemin x haechan fwb in the past), yn comes off rude in the beginning but it's necessary for character development, yn has an anxiety attack, angsty

words: 11.3K

this is kinda good if I say so myself, yall have to read 👁️ if you don't like mlm or memberxmember I promise it's just a short bit of fluff/angst connecting it to Cute~ and that's all lol, the plot is very jaeminxreader centered

Jaemin has been told that he can't say no to people. Yes, he will come to the party. Yes, he can help with the moving out. Yes, he can help you with Anatomy. Yes, that kind of anatomy as well.

The only time Jaemin would say no is when people would ask if he’s busy or tired. No, I’m fine. No, everything is alright.

"Do you ever sleep, Jaemin?" Haechan asked once.

His soft and sleepy voice made Jaemin smile. He wrapped the boy’s waist even tighter, tugging Haechan’s body against his.

“Of course I do.” Haechan chuckled. “When?” “When you’re not here”, the other whispered. “Lies. You’re studying when I’m not here. Look at what kind of service I’m doing. Fucking you so that you can just lie in bed and fall asleep.” Jaemin smiled again and ghosted Haechan’s forehead with his lips ready to place a kiss on the other’s warm skin. He stopped himself before doing so. “Yeah, thank you for your service.”

But since Haechan started to date some guy, there was no one to force him into bed and make Jaemin rest.

The boy would drift off to unconsciousness for a little while every night, head pressed into his med school books, mind full of notions and caffeine. He would stay like that for an indefinite amount of time, not enough to fully fall asleep but enough to being shaken to the core when he would wake up, batting his eyelashes as his unfocused gaze tried to make sense of his surroundings. Then he would get up slowly from his uncomfortable chair and drag his feet to the kitchen to make his nth cup of coffee for the night.

Jaemin has never had a roommate and it was probably because of Haechan. Said boy wouldn’t have cared less if someone was in the other room, listening to their moans, but Jaemin didn’t like that. Instead, he loved it when Haechan would pull up to his doorstep unannounced, eyes either wide with tears or tight with lust. Because the choice was Jaemin. It was always Jaemin. Haechan needed him and Jaemin loved it. He couldn’t have other distractions. No flatmates knocking on the door and complaining. Just him and Haechan, on his bed, on the couch, on the kitchen counters, against the entrance door, on the floor, in the shower. Jaemin didn’t know, but it wasn’t just him doing Haechan a favour, maybe quite the opposite. Because Jaemin has been also told that he doesn’t ask for help. He doesn’t let people know about his needs, or whatever. But Haechan was aware of that. It took Jaemin a little while to notice it, especially since the other was already gone, but more often than not, Haechan would just show up for no apparent reason. “Nothing happened,” he would say, “I was just horny.” But Haechan would come for him. Because that’s how Haechan was. He could see people very well and he could see Jaemin when he needed something, or when he was exhausted and needed a simple hug, or when he didn’t sleep in days or having eaten nothing more than a single cup of instant noodles. They were friends with benefits but the benefits sometimes were just lying beside each other and talk, or order in some food while watching a movie. Sometimes they would just kiss for a long time, during nights where Haechan felt weaker, and those were Jaemin’s favourite nights. “You should sleep now,” the older would whisper against his lips and Jaemin would reply with a short-breathed yeah, in a second, before letting his tongue inside the other’s mouth slowly for another hour or so. Some people might have said that Jaemin was in love, but the boy had no idea himself whether that was the case or not and he didn’t want to think about that. Jaemin didn’t like thinking at all. But he loved it when others did and he loved to think about their thoughts instead of his own. He wanted to know people’s reasons and why they behaved in a certain manner so that he could understand himself without actively trying to.

“So, what do you think?” Jaemin was standing proud in the middle of his spot-free living room, hands on his hips, like a housewife expecting compliments from her housewive friends.

“Could be better,” you mumbled, biting your nails, barely looking around.

When you found Jaemin’s pretty written paper renting a room on the university notice board, you did assume he was a girl.

“What could be better?” he smiled at you.

You stared back, sensing sarcasm but upon seeing the boy’s genuine expression you realized how naive he was.

“I don’t know. The roommate maybe?” you rolled your eyes and walked towards your assigned room, dragging your suitcase carelessly on the nice wooden floor. “I’m staying, by the way,” you yelled after closing your door with your foot with a loud bang.

____

You have been told a lot of stuff during your life. Selfish, rude, uncaring, insensitive.

It would make you angry.

You would yell back that it’s not true making people step back and add some more adjectives that you wouldn’t want to use while describing yourself in class.

You fought that back a lot, crying secretly under your covers, terrorized of being alone by yourself, afraid of being alone with such a bad person.

You fought and fought until one day you just stared back at those people.

So what? you found yourself thinking. Perhaps I am. Yeah. I am selfish and I don’t give a shit. So what about that? What are you all going to do?

And when you ignored people, they started to ignore you as well.

And slowly, everyone knew that no, you would not help them with their homework, no, you didn’t want to go to their stupid party, no, you didn’t give a shit about their new college charity event.

And you didn’t give a single fuck about Jaemin’s rules.

“So, you can actually do whatever you want, really. The only things I ask of you is-,” he tried to speak to you the first morning of you living together.

You turned your music loudly on purpose the previous night as you settled in. You wanted to see the boy come knocking on your door and finally throw away his polite mask as everyone does around you after a few minutes of knowing you. Because you’re rude and it’s better for them to just know that from the start.

The thing you hated the most was people giving you a little hope, that maybe you’re likeable and they wouldn’t turn their backs on you. Yet, you’ve quickly realized that it is impossible. Not with you. Not since you’re such a horrible person.

“Yeah, I don’t care,” you replied, one of Jaemin’s red apples between your teeth, a little juice glistening on your lips after you bit down. They were prettily on display in the middle of the kitchen island with a little vase of fresh flowers kept them company on the right.

The boy looked at your mouth for a second before locking eyes with you. “Okay,” he simply replied grabbing an apple himself. “I’m glad you like apples. I was afraid they would go to waste-,” but he didn’t complete the sentence, one hand suspended in the air, eyes wide as you let the piece of apple you were munching on fall on the ground as well as the fruit you were holding.

“These apples are actually disgusting,” you commented then you both listened to the sound the apple made as it rolled into the living room and stopped as it met the soft rug.

That was it.

It wasn’t your fault that this boy had more patience than your previous flatmates and you had to go stronger on him.

Kick me out? Are you going to kick me out now? Come on. Kick me out.

But Jaemin didn’t look mad.

After the initial confusion, he just put his apple back on top of the others and grabbed a paper towel. He knelt in front of you as you stood there with crossed arms and picked up your half munched bite of fruit and threw it away. Then he walked the few steps separating the kitchen island to the living room and picked up the apple as well, giving it the same journey towards the trash.

You scoffed.

Jaemin still didn’t say anything and grabbed a pan out of the cabinets. “I’m making pancakes,” he announced calmly. “I don’t like pancakes,” you acted like a kid but the feeling gripping at your throat was something new and you didn’t know how to behave.

This Jaemin guy made you angrier than other people.

Jaemin turned around to face you. “What do you like, Y/N?”

You stared back for a few seconds at his neutral and unbothered face, then shoulder bumped him as you walked away. Grabbing your backpack from the ground you just slammed the entrance door on your way out.

You knew you were annoying. You also hated yourself just like everyone hated you. But you couldn’t help it. It has happened before. You let yourself believe that maybe you were kind and sweet, that you had a caring heart, that people would like you. Yet, soon after, they would finally realize that you weren’t like that at all. That you were a monster trying to put on an act. So you liked the idea of people seeing the worst you could be first, so they could just leave if they couldn’t handle it.

And no one could. Yet this Jaemin dude didn't budge.

You came home late that day and you noticed the way Jaemin turned off his music as he heard you enter your room.

God, you hated him.

And the morning after he was already in the kitchen, hair wet on his forehead, a white towel around his neck.

He smiled like an angel.

"Eggs and bacon?"

You ignored him.

And the morning after again. "Fruit?" Door slam.

And another morning again. "Maybe cappuccino and croissants?" he wondered. Again.

"Porridge?" "Okay! Okay. Fuck. Okay", you finally replied.

It was the weekend and you had no excuse to dramatically leave the apartment as you did the previous days when you had to go to class. You were standing in the same spot in front of the kitchen island as the first day when you made a fool out of yourself by spitting out a piece of an apple.

"I'm fine with whatever,” you added quietly. "Toast?" Jaemin raised his eyes from underneath his fringe before his hand could throw the locks back revealing the forehead.

You shrugged.

He smiled excitedly and got busy around the cabinets, the scent of his aftershave intimidating you.

Walking around him silently you sat up on the kitchen stools, placing your hands on the marble and looked down, uneasy. It was alright if Jaemin was kind now then would start hate you afterwards. You could rest for a little bit, right? You could just put down your shield and breathe. It’s not like you would become friends if the made you breakfast.

"How did the week go? You guys have many exams?" Jaemin's voice slightly startled you.

Looking up you saw that he was already looking at you, two white plates in front of him with two pieces of hot toast. You stared back for a second then looked at the way his hands spread jam on the bread.

"It was alright," you found yourself speaking.

How was yours? You probably should have asked. But you didn't care and you were afraid to randomly engage in more than a few words long conversations.

"Here," Jaemin placed the food in front of you then he licked his thumb. Thank you, you should have said. But Jaemin didn't look bothered.

After a few moments of silence during which you couldn't bring yourself to start eating, Jaemin sighed like a British person would while slapping their knees when announcing they should go.

"Alright. I'll eat in my room. I have a lot of stuff to do,” he announced and left with the plate. You stared at his back as he lazily dragged his feet towards the corridor and when you heard his door close you finally tasted the toast.

_____

A scared cat. An angry and scared cat.

This was the first thing Jaemin thought when he saw you.

Honestly, he almost lost it on the first day but kept it in together when he saw the way your hands trembled while being confronted. Then all of his anger died.

No, I don't care, you told him yet you didn't turn up your music loudly again after the first night and you never bothered him. It was almost as if you weren't even there.

What a nicely crafted facade, Jaemin would think, hands behind his head, a pencil between his lips, an open manual on his chest, eyes directed towards an indefinite point on his ceiling.

It was very late at night. His phone buzzed once and the boy stared at the "apartment empty, wanna come?" text.

Yeah, he could use some of that.

And he would have been at his friend's place by now if a weird noise wouldn't have stopped him from putting on his shoes.

It was coming from your room, a small choked sound, barely audible that Jaemin wouldn't have heard it in other circumstances. He walked the corridor slowly until gently stopping in front of you door, a slight blush covering his cheeks. Could it be-?

But no.

Jaemin heard a fair share of whimpering girls before and you definitely weren't enjoying yourself. So he knocked, suddenly worried. "Y/N?" You didn't reply, only a little whimper being caught by Jaemin's ears. "Y/N, is everything alright?" He waited, face almost pressed on the cool wood. Another choking sound and "I'm coming in, now,” he announced and you couldn't stop him.

Sat on your bed, wet cheeks from crying and irregular breaths, you looked up like a scared deer, sliding back when Jaemin walked towards you. "Shh, it's alright," he whispered with a calm voice, hands in front of himself as he sat down in front of you.

"Don't touch me. Go away," you flinched, hiding your face from his gaze.

Jaemin had a reassuring face when he spoke again. "I won't touch you if you don’t want me to."

"Go away. Leave me alone," you repeated with a feeble voice, arms pulling your knees to your chest.

Jaemin looked at you for a few moments, your baby blue pyjama and irregular breath, then he gently sat down on the bed in front of you and crossed his legs.

"Do you take medicine?" he asked softly. You shook your head. "Okay. Then, will you look at me?" You sobbed and furtively raised your eyes to meet his for a short moment before looking away. "It's alright. You're doing great." Jaemin's voice was low, articulating every word slowly and he didn't move. "It's scary, I know. But there's no danger now. I'm protecting you." His eyes were trained on your face and you finally let yourself stare back fully.

"Imitate me," he spoke again, breathing in and out slowly. A little sob escaped your lips before you could do the same.

"Good. You're doing amazing. Slowly," he cooed and you did just that for an indeterminate amount of times, the silence engulfig you both until you looked down and saw your fingers wrapped around Jaemin's hands.

You let them go surprised but your palms liked how soothing touching another human’s skin felt.

His was soft and warm, and you concentrated on the way the heat spread to your cold hands, holding them again timidly.

Then you let yourself fall on the pillows, eyes looking up at the ceiling, the sobs getting more time between each other.

Jaemin remained still for a moment, as if unsure what to do, then he slowly moved to the side, walking on all fours until resting on the bed beside you.

A little stronger whine shook your frame again though and he slightly rolled over, rising on his elbow the other hand above your body.

"I'm-- going to touch your diaphragm. Is this alright?"

You bit your lower lip then nodded.

"Okay, breathe in again, keep it for one second, then release slowly."

You inhaled, staring at Jaemin's big eyes as if looking for approval. His hand ghosted your stomach until finally resting on your body right underneath your bust.

"That's right," he spoke softly. "Now, again.”

You repeated the exercise, feeling Jaemin's warm palm through the clothes every time your rib cage expanded.

"Again," he breathed in with you, keeping it, then releasing it.

After a while your mind felt like white, blood fully oxygenated, Jaemin’s non-invading and calming presence actually making you feel better.

Yet your heartbeat couldn't stop beating and Jaemin could feel it.

"Again," his low voice made your arms skin shiver with goosebumps, your breathing getting irregular instead of steady.

"Focus on my hand and your breath," he said but his gaze falling on your slightly open lips wasn't helping you focus at all.

He blinked and looked up into your eyes again.

It was even worse. "Jaemin, I'm fine now.”

The boy blinked a few times and retrieved his hand slowly.

Your breath calmed down and Jaemin took it for a good sign since he returned to his side of the bed.

It became silent so suddenly that you could hear Jaemin swallow.

Thank you? Thank you for being here? Or, thank you for helping me out. Sorry for slapping your hand away? Is this what you should have said, right?

“Then, I’ll be going now,” his soft voice disrupted the silence and your bed creaked in the darkness as he presumably got up.

No, wait, wait.

"Why do I become like this at night?" you whispered instead.

Jaemin’s silhouette against your dark blue windows moved around and lied on the bed again, this time on his stomach, bust raised on his elbows, eyes probably on the shadows of your face.

"It's because the front part of your brain gets quieter and gives space to the other parts of your brain where feelings are."

"Why do you always have a good answer to everything?"

You heard Jaemin's breath form a light chuckle.

"Many people told me that before."

"Okay, right."

"No, wait, I meant that- I'm not bragging, sorry--it came out very weirdly."

You smiled, the dark and sudden sleepiness making you care less about keeping up your cold image.

"You want to be a psychiatrist?" "I don't know."

You turned on your side, hands pressed under your face, knees buckled until almost touching his hips. "Why is that?"

Jaemin sighed. "I don't know if I'm good at helping people."

The laugh you let out took both of you by surprise. "Are you joking?"

The boy exhumed perplexed energy even if you couldn’t see him properly.

"You're a human matt with weird gigantic patience. You'll help people alright." "A human mat?" Jaemin raised his eyebrow at you but you still noticed the amused twinkle in his eyes. "Yeah, you have no self-esteem,” you went on. "I have self-esteem," the other protested. "If you did, you wouldn’t let people treat you like that."

Jaemin let the clock on your wall fill the silence with its ticks for a little while.

"Like what?" he whispered.

You rolled on your back, unable to look at him anymore. "Like how I treat you."

"So you're aware of that."

"So you're aware of that as well but choose to ignore it instead of fighting back?"

Jaemin rolled on his back as well, hand rising to his forehead and ruffling his fringe.

You stared at the way the strands fell back exposing his forehead then you looked at his furrowed eyebrows and finally at his lips when he opened them to speak. "What's the point in fighting back?"

A car roared outside your open window, giving you more time to collect your thoughts.

"What's the point in being stupidly kind like that?" you finally spoke up. Your voice was a little whisper as if you secretly wanted Jaemin to not hear you. But he did.

"So I can live by my principles." "And are you happy?"

Ah.

Shit.

Jaemin was at a loss of words.

"Isn't it better to just be yourself and do whatever the fuck you want?" you went on. "Like you?" he finally spoke up. "Yeah." "But you're not doing what you want.”

It was your turn to have no words to choose from.

"You're not yourself, are you?" he asked. "I am," but your voice didn't seem convincing even to your ears. "People are not going to like you more if you behave as you do," you added. "And what should I do to make people like me?" Jaemin inquired. "Nothing. Just be yourself."

Jaemin sat up slowly and briefly looked out of the window.

"Then you should follow this advice as well. Stop putting on this act."

You didn't sleep the whole night after Jaemin slowly exited your room.

_____

The next day you already left when Jaemin got up and walked to the kitchen.

He heard you leave actually. He couldn't sleep the whole night either.

Are you happy? Are you yourself?

No. After turning and rolling on his bed Jaemin got to the conclusion that he wasn't happy or himself at all.

Not all the time at least.

Because most of the times he did care about people, but he could also point out times when he did too much for no reason, getting back nothing but a bittersweet taste on his tongue.

When he came back home after class, an intense sweet fragrance welcomed him first as he stepped inside. With the back turned at him and wearing his black apron, you were frantically looking for something in the kitchen cabinets.

Jaemin indulged in looking at you for a little while, a fizzy feeling inside his chest, small happiness created by moments like finding money in an old jacket, a little surprise you didn’t need but that made your day better.

How would it feel to behave like you? Would Jaemin be able to do it?

At first, Jaemin wondered why you were like that, but after the previous night, he hit his head with an imaginary palm, feeling stupid for not realizing it earlier.

You were just like him.

Hiding something in front of people.

He cleared his throat and smiled when you jolted with a little scream. “For fuck’s sake.”

Yeah, you were hiding the little girl he saw crying on her bed and he was hiding the needy little boy that so desperately wanted to be loved.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” he let his bag fall on the floor as he sat on the kitchen stools in front of you. “Are those cookies?” he indicated the oven with his chin.

You adjusted your clothes as if suddenly realizing how embarrassing it was to wear an apron.

“Why ask obvious questions?”

Jaemin’s smile widened until showing his teeth and you felt like either fight him or run away from his eyes. What a weirdo, you thought. It was almost as if he was enjoying your moodiness.

“Are you looking for something?” he asked again. You crossed your arms on your chest and Jaemin thought that seizing you in the act of being domestic was something that highly embarrassed you.

He loved it.

“No.” The boy rested his head on one arm, tilting his head to the side, already knowing what you were trying to do before. “Shall we decorate the cookies together? I can make the icing. The colouring is in the other cabinet.”

You turned around and stared at the only place you didn’t look before. “I wasn’t trying to decorate them,” you lied.

Jaemin lifted his hands as if innocent. “Never said that,” then smiled as you rolled your eyes.

“Do you have plans tonight?” he walked around you to retrieve the decorations and you felt your breath hitch when he had to press himself on your back. “Because the cookies have to cool down first,” Jaemin explained.

You didn’t reply and untied your apron, suddenly regretting your decision to remain in the kitchen instead of hiding in your room.

“Watch a movie with me, please?”

The “no” was already on the tip of your tongue but then you heard the “please” and your eyes moved to Jaemin’s face by themselves. His hands were pressing into the isle, shoulders raised as if he was trying to lift himself, the evident nervousness in his expression making you feel at a loss of words.

You didn’t expect Jaemin to be shy. Why was he shy? To ask you to watch a movie with him? That made him shy?

“Okay.”

His eyes widened. “Okay?”

You almost laughed at how surprised he was and you had to admit that seeing him run around the kitchen to get to the living room was pretty adorable.

A little sigh, as if a warning, left your lungs when you walked towards the couch. You were probably doing a mistake, but Jaemin - God - Jaemin was so kind.

Watching his back as he was sat down on his knees in front of the tv, so eager to spend some time with you, even if it was fake, even if he didn’t really care, made your heart swell up. No one has behaved like that before. Maybe it was alright.

“Okay, but I choose the movie,” you extended the hand and Jaemin got up, placing the remote controller on your palm. His smile never left his lips as you shuffled the options. “What about this?” Jaemin read the description with squinty eyes. "Oh, I don't like happy endings." You looked at him. "Why is that?"

The boy remained quiet for a moment.

"I think it's because you relate a lot to a sad story and it describes your life so well that you get mesmerized in it. You finally feel understood. Others are going through the same struggles. But then they get a happy ending and- you don't.”

Jaemin’s fingers played with one of the threads of his shorts and you blinked at his unexpected words.

“It becomes a reminder of how your life could go if you were lucky like them. But you're not. That's when you can't relate anymore and it becomes even sadder. Instead of being a sort of relief, the happy ending is another punch in the gut, since I'll never be able to experience something like that,” he smiled after the last phrase as if he had just said that the best colour to decorate the cookies was blue.

Suddenly it felt as if the reality was altered.

Jaemin's face was a concentrated mask, trying to read other movies descriptions and you desperately wanted to touch it with your fingertips.

But you touched the back of his hand instead and Jaemin looked down at his thigh before looking up.

You didn’t know what expression you had on but the boy was so good at understanding people that you could have had a blank face and he would have known what you were feeling.

He smiled warmly at you and held your hand, squeezing it a little bit.

“I’m fine.” “It’s alright to be weak,” you almost talked on top of him. “Or to have desires.”

Jaemin opened his mouth and closed it a few times like a fish and you both jolted when the ding of the oven told that the cookies were baked.

The boy reluctantly let your hand go when you got up and walked towards the kitchen.

The smell was incredible and despite the weird saddened energy of the room, you both smiled at each other when locking eyes.

_____

Jaemin got used to your love language very quickly.

After cookies, came breakfast, and after that, it was the turn of a small gadget you found at the flea market.

“It’s so ugly that the first person I thought of was you.”

You still kept the insulting wall but Jaemin loved that part of you as well.

He ate your gratitude made of sweets and desserts, and looked at it in bed, rolling the little bald man made of wood on his palm.

A night Jaemin would think a lot about, was when you were hammered, bodies spread on the living room floor, eyes closed, soft music in the background to make the ambience less awkward. But you didn’t care about awkwardness as soon enough, the only thing your dizzy heads could think of was nothing at all.

With a wavering hand, Jaemin felt around him, searching for the bottle of “you’ve never tasted such good cognac before, I’m sure” cognac that Haechan sent him.

And the “Oh, perhaps I’m getting engaged :P”.

Jaemin stared at the note for a long time then stared at the bottle of amber liquid, his hands gripping it hard.

You took it from his hands before he could unreasonably smash it on the ground.

“Are you okay?”

The bottle was put down on the kitchen counter and Jaemin looked at it first then at your concerned eyes, as you’ve started to do more often lately.

Jaemin didn’t know what expression he had on but whatever it was, it made you take a few steps towards him when he didn’t reply.

“Yeah,” he breathed out after a little while, trying to put on his normal smile. But when you wrapped his waist with your arms he didn’t stop the tears falling silently on his cheeks.

He did not sob, nor wail. Jaemin just stood there, arms unable to hug you back. And when you dragged him by the hand, the bottle under your arm, making him sit down on the floor, he just obliged.

“Let’s drink to that.”

And Jaemin didn’t know if you meant his broken heart or Haechan’s happiness but he nodded and took a sip of the sweet drink. The bottle travelled back and forth between you until you couldn’t sit up anymore.

Lying down, the sun setting, the same few songs playing on a loop since no one had the energy to change the playlist, Jaemin couldn’t find the bottle anymore so he just grabbed your hand instead.

You didn’t say anything and intertwined your fingers with his, mind circling the spot Jaemin’s thumb was circling on your skin.

"I feel like people love me for how I make them feel.”

The boy’s voice was hoarse and it made your chest tingle.

You listened, squeezing his hand as to invite him to go on.

“I know everything about them. I know how to make them feel good. I listen and I love. I love a lot.”

“You do.”

Jaemin swallowed hard.

You didn’t have to look to know that his cheeks were wet again.

“I tried to be perfect. So I could be loved back.”

“You don’t have to do that. You just got an example of that not working very well anyway.”

A sniff.

“I know. But the little amount I still get now, would it be there if I didn’t try as hard as I’m trying right now? Would people care about me if I wasn't perfect? Would they love me if I didn't do what they need me to? Honestly, I'm terrified to find out.”

You sighed and let his hand go, rolling on your stomach and lifting your bust on our forearms to be able to look at Jaemin.

The boy opened his reddened eyes and tilted his head to the side to meet your gaze.

“If you try so hard and still get so little, you don’t need that love.”

Jaemin blinked once, listening to your soothing voice, the evening breeze lightly swooshing his hair spread around his head.

“As you said, they probably still love you for how you make them feel and not for how you are,” and Jaemin visibly flinched at the hard truth. “But,” you grabbed his hand again, not wanting to let him despair, “there are also people that love you because of who you are, even if you confuse them with those that love you for what you do. And I’m sure Haechan is one of them, it just didn’t go well.” “It didn’t have to go well. It has never been something that could go. It’s just my fault that-” but you shushed him pulling at his hand as to make him stop talking. “You can still admit that he hurt you. He didn’t do it on purpose but it’s not your fault either. And it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about you. Sometimes you can try very hard and people would still not care in the same way that you do, and it’s alright. It’s not you. It’s them.”

Jaemin kept his eyes closed as you talked, his chest rising with deep breaths and you placed a hand on it just like he did to you before.

“Do you like me?”

His question took you by surprise.

“You can say no. I’m sorry, I’m putting a lot of pressure on you right now-” “I do.”

The boy opened his eyes, staring at you from underneath his long lashes. “Why?”

You stared down at your intertwined fingers. The truth was that you also liked him for how he made you feel. He never snapped, he accepted you, he tried hard to get to you and it was something that you’ve never experienced before. But what does that also mean about him?

“Because you’re a beautiful human being.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened imperceptibly.

“You’re kind and patient and so sweet. And I know that it looks as if I’m saying only the stuff that has to do with me, like, you’re kind with me, and patient with me and sweet with me. But honestly, I would have liked you even if you were like that with other people and not with me.”

You looked up at his face and bit your lower lip. “Also, would you not like me if I understood you the way you understand others? Would that be only loving the way I make you feel? Would that be a bad thing?” “It’s a bad thing only if you were kind to me only to be loved back when in reality you’re not.” “Yeah. And you’re not doing that, are you? You think you’re not deserving of love without trying to be kind but you’re naturally like that, Jaemin. You’re just unhealthily pushing yourself sometimes. It’s not like you’d stop being kind if you stopped trying. Because you’re already kind. And people will love you the same.”

The boy didn’t add anything to that.

He pulled you by the hand until you softly landed on his chest and wrapped your body with his arms.

You could feel his quick heartbeat under your chest and he probably could feel yours. His warm breath caressed your forehead until you fell asleep.

_____

The day after, Jaemin was the usual boy.

His teeth were the first thing you saw when you woke up with a groan. “Good morning.”

You furrowed your eyebrows when your eyes focus on the background. “What the hell am I doing in your bed?”

Jaemin giggled and tugged your body against his, making you realize that he has been hugging you the whole time.

“Let me go!” you tried to escape but Jaemin didn’t budge.

“We’re just cuddling,” his muffled voice on the sweatshirt you were wearing sounded whiny and sleepy.

“Why are we cuddling? What the fuck happened last night?”

Your body stiffened when Jaemin threw a leg on your hips like a koala.

“Nothing. We got drunk and cried, then we fell asleep on the floor.”

You waited.

“And then I woke up and took ourselves on my bed where we cuddled some more until falling asleep again.”

You waited some more.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Jaemin.” The boy raised his face from your shoulder to show you his innocent puppy eyes. “Like what?” “Like why I have nothing on besides your hoodie.”

Jaemin’s face lit up in a bright smile and he hid his face into you again as if shy.

“You were thirsty and drank water from the tap.”

“And?” you were losing all of your patience while your cheeks heated up.

“And your clothes got all wet.”

“Jaemin, for fuck’s sake, talk normally. Did you undress me?”

The boy shook his head. “You took them off by yourself,” he paused. “While trying to give me a lap dance.”

You choked on air and tried to cover your face with your hands, but Jaemin’s koala arms prevented you from doing so.

What the fuck. What the actual fuck.

“But you just took your clothes off and fell on me. Nothing happened. I forced you to wear my hoodie. Then you wanted to cuddle and we fell asleep as you kept saying how pretty my eyelashes are.”

Oh my God.

“And that’s it?” you asked with a little voice.

Jaemin looked at you again and his face was so close that you felt as if on fire, the thought of being naked in front of him and doing stuff you couldn’t remember at all.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

You hit him on the forehead and as he giggled, hands pressing on the spot, you could free yourself and run away in your room.

It was something you would have never imagined, the feeling between your legs.

You breathed in and out, trying to calm yourself, but your skin still remembered where Jaemin’s hands were placed just seconds ago. And his breath on your neck. And your eyes couldn’t get rid of his sunlit chocolate eyes.

Oh, fuck.

This shouldn’t have happened.

You didn’t predict this happening at all and it made you go crazy just like the heat spreading through your body as your hand slipped down your stomach. You didn’t think. Your mind was blank and your fingers moved on their own, teeth biting your lower lip, knees buckling until your frame slipped on the door and meeting the floor. Legs open and back pressed onto the hard wood, you closed your eyes and gasped, hoping that Jaemin’s hangover ears could not hear you.

_____

Jaemin loved how things started to go between you. Bad mannered and moody, you still snapped at him but didn’t run away when he would laugh and pull you into his arms.

Perhaps Jaemin was making a mistake. The same mistake all over again.

Perhaps he was giving and giving, thinking the other party felt the same, but he didn’t care anymore. That’s how he was. He wasn’t trying. He felt like hugging you and kissing your forehead just to hear your scream, loving the little smile blooming on your lips when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He bathed into your silent affection and soon your affection became something else he wouldn’t have expected.

“I think you should stay at home.”

Jaemin adjusted his raincoat with furrowed eyebrows. You were standing near the wall of the corridor and watched him about to go out in the pouring rain.

“Jaemin. There’s a storm outside. Your friend can just call a tow truck or something.”

The boy has been in a rare bad mood for a little while that day and when he heard that his friend got a flat tire his mood didn’t get any better. And now, with you looking at him as if he was doing something wrong when his conscience was telling him it was the right choice made him unreasonable angry. Because he knew that he should probably listen to you.

“I know.”

You huffed. “Then tell him to go fuck himself and stay home.” Jaemin let his shoe fall down on the floor annoyed. “Why do you care so much suddenly?” and while saying it he was already regretting it but was unable to stop. “You’ve hated me since day one and now you care about my well-being?”

You tightened your lips. “I don’t hate you. I thought-- you understood.”

Your vulnerability made Jaemin close his eyes for a second. “Fuck, I do. I always do. I understand everyone and I hate it.”

Sudden lighting made his face spectral and you took a step back.

“Just stop being a human mat and stop doing stuff you don’t want to do. We’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

If the boy was cooling down, that phrase took it all out of the window.

“You think it’s easy? Why don’t you stop saying no to everything and start being kinder then? We’ve talked about that as well. You can’t do it either.”

“I bet I can go one day with saying yes to everything but you can’t go a day by saying no or doing what you want instead of what other people want,” you dared him.

Jaemin scoffed. “Yeah, sure. I would want to see that.”

You crossed your arms on your chest determined. “Okay. Starting from this moment I’m going to say yes. What about you? Are you going to refuse people and do what you want? I don’t think so.”

Jaemin stared at you for a split second and his expression became one you’ve never seen him wear before. With a fluid movement, he filled the space between you until your faces were a breath away from each other. “I want to fuck you. How about that?”

You almost gasped as you stared at his dark eyes, the storm outside the window giving him an even more dangerous aura.

Gulping down, your mind started to run and search for an appropriate answer, but it wasn’t necessary as your lips betrayed you by forming a quiet “okay, deal.”

Jaemin’s pupils trembled as if he was surprised himself, yet his hands were quick, stripping him of his raincoat, letting it fall to his feet.

“The safe word is,” he whispered slowly, “forest.”

You swallowed again, feeling your throat suddenly dry, then you chuckled trying to mask your nervousness.

“Okay, but forest? Really? That’s very stupid-,” but you couldn't complete your shaky sentence as you found yourself dragged towards the bedroom and knocked on the bed in a second, ass up in the air with Jaemin’s hands on it. “Stupid?” he asked irritated. “Start fucking counting.” You shivered even though your blood felt like boiling. Not in a thousand years, you would have expected Jaemin to manhandle you like that.

Spank.

A little yelp, more because of the surprise than the actual pain since your thick jeans didn’t really allow for much friction, escaped your lips. “One.” Your voice was trembling. “Good girl,” Jaemin’s voice was almost a deep whisper.

Spank.

“T-two,” you stuttered as Jaemin increased the force.

Spank.

You whined. “Three.” “God, I’ve wanted to do this the first time you left your dirty stuff in the sink and refused to clean up.”

Spank.

“F-four. So you’re actually able to feel human emotions such as anger, huh?” you chuckled breathlessly.

Spank. You moaned and your panties started to get too wet and hot for your liking.

No five could come out of your lips as Jaemin grabbed your arms and rolled you over on your back. His eyes were full of fire and you felt your core tingle as he got on the bed as well, kneeling between your open legs, resting his weight on his hands pressed on each side of your head. “I’m going to stuff you up so hard. Let’s see if you’ll be able to talk back again, princess.” You were about to chuckle, pretending that his words didn’t affect you, but you lost it at the pet name. A little gasp left your lips in the form of a single breath and Jaemin got even closer as if catching it. “Oh, you like it? You want to be called like that?” he teased you. You gulped nervously and nodded. “Then I won’t do it,” he whispered, mouths almost touching. You raised your head to connect his lips with yours but Jaemin pulled away with a laugh until you couldn’t reach him anymore. Then he got closer again when you rested your head down. “Wanna kiss me?” his voice caressed your ears just the way one of his hands started to draw little circles down your neck. You turned your head to the side, giving him more space. “Hm?” he asked while the tip of his tongue traced the outline of your ear. You shivered at the sensation. “Yeah, wanna kiss you,” you replied, remembering the dare, even though, you realized with deep shame, you would have answered positively anyways. Jaemin’s soft chuckle added to the sensation growing between your legs and you would have rubbed them together if Jaemin’s bust weren’t there, so close to your core yet so far away. “Ask me nicely,” he ordered. You bit your lower lip and looked up at him, trying to flirt back, maybe making Jaemin weak the way he was making you feel. But the boy’s smile never flattered. “Do you not want to kiss me?” you fluttered your eyelashes. Jaemin shook his head. “No.” “I want to kiss you so badly though,” you tried again. “Sounds like a you problem.” “Okay, so you’re not actually able to feel human emotions,” you dropped the sugary tone. “This is pretty human in my book,” he lowered his hips grinding on you, his hard cock making you jolt even through the layers of clothes. “I have to do what I want right? Then I want to fuck you until there’s no trace of that attitude left, but on my terms,” and you would have replied if Jaemin didn’t rise on his knees again, looking at you sprawled in front of him like a full meal and if his hands didn’t go to your waistband, unbuttoning your pants and roughly dragging them down. Your legs fell on the bed like dead weight after the jeans were thrown somewhere in the room. Jaemin got between them again but not to do what you hoped he would. Instead, he reached on the shelves behind you and you recognized the sound before seeing the object: a pair of shiny metal handcuffs. Your eyes widened at the sight and Jaemin chuckled. “You want me to tie you up?” you tried to joke, knowing damn well that they weren’t for his wrists. Jaemin ignored your useless question and handcuffed you, tugging at the chain connecting your hands, making you whine as he hooked it to a nail above your head. You looked up, blaming yourself for not noticing it sooner and shivered at the sudden realization that Jaemin had probably done it very often. A little fear of what he might do to you crept in the back of your mind but instead of spreading panic through your body, it spread a wave of pleasure, collecting itself in a single pulsating point between your legs. “Tell me the truth. It’s the first time you’re not the one tied to the bed, right?” you teased him. “No, but it does look like it’s your first time, isn’t it, love?” his eyes were sweet and kind, the usual look Jaemin would give you in the morning or before going to bed, yet it changed in a second as he calmly slipped his fingers on your hips, getting under your panties and dragging them down your thighs. He twirled them around his finger a few times, the tip of his tongue moisturizing his dry lips as he drank in the view of your spread legs. “You’re not taking off this?” you tried to drift his attention to your face instead, shimming your bust as to indicate what you were talking about, suddenly very shy of you being so exposed to him and definitely not used to the look on his face. But Jaemin didn’t budge. He still stared where he wanted, as if almost caressing you with his gaze as he replied. “It would be a shame. That’s my hoodie, isn’t it? Tell me,” he got closer, hovering over you, finally looking at you in the eyes, making you regret that he wasn’t looking away as before, “does it still have my perfume on? Were you thinking about me today just as you touched yourself that time while wearing it?” he purred and chuckled at your shocked expression. “This apartment has very thin walls, angel. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you my little secret as well, yeah?” You nodded breathlessly. “I was fucking my fist to your pretty moans as well, thinking about your sweet lips wrapped around my cock,” he rubbed his thumb on your lower lip, making you open your mouth as if about to kiss you, then smirked. “What about you? Were you thinking about this-” he let his hand fall from your face down your body until reaching between your legs, touching your wet core with two fingers, dragging them up and down slowly. You jolted, inhaling sharply at the feeling, eyes unable to stay open. “-or maybe this?” his voice was a whisper as his fingertips circled your clit, snapping a whine out of you. His shiny necklace was dangling in front of your face, then it laid on your chest as he got closer and pressed his lips on your neck, sucking your skin in, playing with it with his tongue. “Was it perhaps this?” he spoke again as he easily slipped his middle finger inside of you. The wet sounds of him pumping your pussy made you even more aroused and it probably had the same effect on Jaemin since a little low growl roared in his chest. He slipped another finger in. “Do you hear it? So wet and all for me,” his hot breath ghosted your ear. “Jaemin, please,” you mumbled, the building up sensation keeping you on the edge but not enough to grow to what your gut needed. Jaemin raised his bust and sat down on his heels with a cocky smile, looking at the way his fingers disappeared inside you, glistening with your juices. “You’re in no position to ask for anything, angel,” he reminded you calmly. “But I appreciate the please. Now, let’s learn to say thank you as well, shall we?” You whined, rocking your hips against his hand, urging him to go faster. The boy raised an eyebrow at your eagerness and let himself down on his elbows between your legs. “Do you want to feel my tongue?” “Yes, yes, please,” you replied, all of your pride out of the window. “Like this?” he licked your inner thigh. You protested and it only made Jaemin more amused. “Sorry, like this?” he drew a line on one of your lips, so close yet so far. “Jaemin, I’ll fucking make you pay,” you spoke through your teeth and Jaemin clicked his tongue as if disappointed, retrieving his fingers from you and leaving you all empty. “No, no, no,” you wailed, eyes wide staring at him. “What was that? Did I hear some-” he cupped his ear with one hand in a playful act, “-attitude?” “Shit, Jaemin, you said you’re going to fuck the attitude out of me, yet here you are, not doing anything to me.” Jaemin’s smile disappeared in a second leaving space for a dark expression. Usually, he would have continued to smile, but this Jaemin was a different person. “Oh, be careful what you wish for, angel,” he whispered and dove into your core, not leaving you a single second to breathe in properly. You moaned hard feeling his quick tongue, curling your toes and tugging at the handcuffs keeping your arms painfully above your head. “Oh oh- fuck me,” and he did it, lapping at your wetness, fingers shoved back inside of you, quick to find your sweet spot thanks to your increasing moans guiding his movements. His name on your whiny lips probably made him insane since he started to move even quicker, so quick to make you arch your back, not stopping even when you started to uncontrollably shake, coming all over his tongue. Your legs tried to get together but Jaemin didn’t agree with that, slapping your thighs away his with free hand and diving back in, sucking on your clit as if nothing happened. You cried out and mumbled something about stopping but Jaemin didn’t accept anything besides the safe word. Deaf to your protests, he ravaged you until hearing your loud whimpers again, this time shaking so hard that the bed frame moved with you, your wrists hurting as you tugged at the handcuffs again. Only then Jaemin lifted himself on his knees again, breathless, your juices wetting his lips and chin, a thin layer of sweat matting his fringe to the forehead. “How are we feeling, baby?” he grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and undressed himself, revealing one of the best bodies you’ve seen in real life. Unable to speak, still coming down from your high, you just stared at him, fucked numb, and he still didn’t even put his cock to good use yet. “Good,” Jaemin seemed satisfied as he caressed his abs, going down to the waistband of his grey sweats with a slow movement. He teased you like that for a second, loving the way your eyes were trained on his hard one. “You want it?” he asked with a smirk, palming it and outlining its form. “Yes,” you managed to say. Jaemin clicked his tongue. “You’re back to speaking now. Better do something about it,” he commented and took off his bottoms alongside his boxers. In a single movement, your legs were around his waist and the tip of his cock was tasting your entrance. Jaemin moved it up and down with his hand, spreading your abundant juices on it, making you almost whimper with expectation before finally filling you up slowly with a deep grunt. And you felt every centimetre of it, stretching you out, making the air leave your lungs in the same moment until you felt it hit far inside where no cock has possibly touched before. “Shit-” Jaemin whispered as you moaned, slowly making more space inside your tight walls by swiftly rolling his hips. He didn’t need to keep the pace low for a long time though as you quickly adjusted to his girth, high pitched pleasure whimpers leaving your rough throat instead of pained ones. Jaemin swore again, thrusting every time faster, grabbing your legs and putting them on his shoulders, hitting it from a better angle. "Louder, baby. I want to hear your moans." You bit your lower lip, the remnants of your brattiness lingering on your tongue. "Then make me moan, Jaemin-," and in that second you realized that you've fucked up. Jaemin descended in a breath, making your thighs touch your chest, one of his hands deeply pressed into the pillow, the other tightened around your throat. He was quick. Oh, he was so quick you felt like you were about to go blind. "Like this? Huh?" the creak of the bed and the slapping of the skin almost covering his teeth spoken questions. When you came you felt your eyes roll back and Jaemin finally let you inhale, oxygenating your fucked out brain. Little pleas slipped your trembling lips, imitating your shaking muscles. But Jaemin didn't stop until you felt his hot cum spurting deep inside of you, making you clench hard around him, finally hearing his choked moans as well. His hips moved and moved until you begged. “Jaemin, Jaem- I can’t, I can’t take this anymore." “You know what to say, angel. A single word and I’ll stop,” he reminded you. You bit your lower lip, staring at him in the eyes. “Oh, so you like it that much, huh? Like - a - little - slut," he accompanied each of his last four words with a deep thrust. "Your tight little pussy can’t take it anymore but you still want it, isn’t that right, princess? You like to be used like this, just as I please. You’re filled up so much that it’s dripping out, baby. Would you let me use your other pretty holes as well?” “Fuck, Jaemin, you’re driving me crazy,” you whined, a few warm tears collecting to the sides of your eyes. “Oh, my baby is crying because it’s that good? Do you love it? You want more of my cock, right?” he cooed sweetly. “Yes, yes, please,” you squirmed underneath him. “No,” he shook his head amused slipping out of your hot pussy, slapping your clit with his tip. You jolted and tugged at the handcuffs. Jaemin smiled and jerked his cock between your legs. "Oh, fuck," his voice darkened as his fingers wrapped his glistening cock, fucking himself while looking at your abused pussy. He was so hot, with strands of wet hair to hide his eyes, open red lips to let out deep grunts and his abs flinching when his thumb would press into the tip of his cock that a little whine escaped your lips. "Give it to me." Jaemin looked up at your begging face with a smirk, hand not slowing down at all. "Where do you want it?" You let your tongue out and you could visibly see the moment during which Jaemin forced a moan down his throat. In a second your arms were down and you sighed relieved as he silently unlocked the handcuffs. But you didn't live that pleasurable moment for long that your bruised wrists were grabbed again to make you stand up on your knees in front of him. Jaemin looked at your face for a short while, almost tenderly, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, before he gripped your head and forced your on all fours, his other hand keeping his cock aligned to your face. You whimpered at the sudden movement but opened your mouth, looking up at Jaemin, waiting for him to do whatever he wanted to you. And he did just that. A choked moan vibrated up his length as he thrust on your tongue, making you taste yourself and his cum at once. Jaemin hummed once then whined, stopping the air inside his nose as if choking before releasing it with through his open mouth and it was so sexy that you desired to listen to his sounds forever. And they got louder as you bobbed your head, his hands loosely gripping your face before palming your shoulders and back, going further until reaching your ass and grabbing it, kneading your soft flesh, shoving himself even further inside your throat. Overstimulated, it took him less time to cum the second time and you loved it how briefly at your mercy he was when you let his cock out, a little string of saliva connecting your tongue to his tip, jerking him off until feeling his seed paint your face. "So fucking hot, fuck-," he groaned, staring down at your expression until you milked him all up.

Both breathless you just looked at each other until a little smile broke on your lips. He followed suit and chuckled, one trembling hand searching for his t-shirt to clean you up.

"Wait," he said when you sat up, putting one finger to your cheek and sucking it clean.

"Delicious," you raised one eyebrow. "Yeah, I bet," Jaemin replied sarcastic one hand sliding on your jaw while the other cleaned up your cheeks. You closed your eyes with a smile and waited for him to be done, not expecting the little peck he places on your lips.

When you opened your eyes surprised, Jaemin continued to pat your skin as if nothing happened.

"What was that?" you inquired.

The boy blinked at you innocently. "You had something on your lips."

Your smile grew. "And it's all off now? I think there's some left. Wanna check?"

Jaemin let the t-shirt go on the side in that instant and kissed you deeply, almost making you fall on your back. It was soft and careful, yet so intense that if you wouldn't have felt so spent it would have turned you on again. And maybe you still could go on for a while because when Jaemin tilted your head to the side and circled your tongue with his, you could have sworn that the heat between your legs came back stronger than ever.

"Wait here," he whispered on your skin and got up, letting you admire the back view until he disappeared outside the room.

With a deep sigh, you let yourself fall on the bed again, stretching your sore muscles, the realization that you've just had some mad sex slowly creeping in.

When Jaemin came back you were almost drifting to sleep, lulled by the sound of the rain.

"Come." A little whine rolled out of your lips as you opened your eyes again. Jaemin smiled looking at you for a few moments before sliding his arms under your knees and waist.

"Jaemin, wait, no-," you jolted awake but not being able to do anything besides wrapping your arms around his neck. "You can't carry me-," but he shushed you and in a few moments you were already in the bathroom, the hot water still filling the bathtub.

He put you down and held your waist when you realized your legs were still wobbly and helped you step inside the soapy water. When he followed suit, placing himself behind you and pulling you towards him, you felt your cheeks on fire.

"You alright?" he whispered, hands already trained on your body, massaging your body softly.

You nodded and inhaled sharply as he traced your bust with two fingers, going down between your legs. "Jaemin-," your thighs closed around his wrist while your face pressed on his bicep to your left.

His soft chuckle brushed against your temple. "I'm not doing anything. Just cleaning you out," he had the courage to say. When you arched your back he retrieved his hand and grabbed a soft loofah. With gentle and careful strokes, he passed it on your skin starting from the chest and shoulders then going down on your torso, giving a little bit too much attention to your breasts. Too turned on but also embarrassed about him washing you up, you could just stare at the way the bubbly water dripped on your skin and when he ordered you to turn around, you couldn't bear to look at him in the eyes. Hands on our ankles, as you rested your back to the other side of the tub, he worked your legs up slowly, enjoying the view and your shy expression maybe too much.

"You're so beautiful," he commented in a low, playful tone and you felt like asking him to get you off for the nth time that night.

Perhaps it showed on your face or maybe he could read minds, but when he reached your inner thighs, he let he loofah float and touched you with his fingers, pulling you towards him until you straddled his lap.

"The bet is off now. You can insult me just like before," he smirked while his fingers made their way between your aching folds.

The breath you inhaled was shaky and you had to press your forehead against his, your hands restless on his wet shoulders.

"I wasn't like that because of the bet," you confessed and Jaemin's pupils visibly trembled while his lips curved in a little smile. "And I'm not like this now because of it either."

A low sound vibrated in Jaemin's chest before he whispered against your open mouth.

"So you saying that you're actually a good girl?"

You nodded, unable to speak as the boy's fingers picked up the pace on your clit.

"I know," he placed a peck on the corner of your mouth, "you're such a good girl," a peck on your jaw, "especially for me" a peck on your neck.

You exhaled with a whine and let your head fall back, digging your nails into his skin, finally being able to touch him as you've wanted to do before. Jaemin took the opportunity to let his lips descend to your nipples, sucking them inside the warmth of his mouth, twirling the buds with his wet tongue until it was unbearable for you to not moan his name uncontrollably.

Your body was all mush when you came again with an almost scream, pulling his head against your chest until his fingertips left your throbbing clit and traced your thigh, going around it and palming your ass. When you finally unclenched your arms from around his neck, he looked up from between the swell of your breasts with a soft giggle.

"Sorry," you mumbled but he shook his head, a kind of adoration in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"I loved it-," he started but stopped abruptly afterwards, as if not wanting to let the words aching on his tongue to roll freely.

You sat down deeper on his thighs until your eyes were at the same level.

"And?" you touched his chest slowly, fingers still trembling from the high.

He swallowed, mind running at an incredibly high speed reflected in his suddenly troubled eyes.

"And I think that-- fuck, I might love you as well."

Oh.

It made your whole body shake again.

Jaemin noticed and you wondered what kind of expression you had on to make him look so worried all of a sudden.

"Is it too much? Too soon?" he cupped your face with one hand.

You couldn't look him in the eyes. "I don't know-- I just-"

Jaemin shushed you. "It's alright. You don't have to do or say anything."

You shook your head and raised your gaze. "I just- I really want to let myself go and believe it."

The boy stayed silent for a moment as if wondering what his next words should be and you hated it. Nights and nights of talking freely with him made you understand how refreshing it was to be yourself and not walk on eggshells around people. And you knew that Jaemin felt the same. Seeing him now, delicate fingers on your skin as if afraid to break you, made your heart ache.

"You care too much, Jaemin. Don't worry about me like this. We've talked about it."

Jaemin briefly licked his lower lip. "How can I not care about you when no one has cared about you before?"

And you choked on the amount of tears that suddenly made your vision blurry.

The boy pulled you towards him and you rested your forehead on his shoulder. "I know," he talked with a shaky voice, "I know I'm too kind and all that stuff and everything you've said is true, I need to change for my own sake, but-," his arms held you even more tightly, "not when it comes to you. I want to be like that with you. And I'm going to change, yes, I'll say no and refuse to do things people ask of me if this is what you want."

His words didn't make your sobs slow down but you raised your face and touched his cheeks.

"Then I want you to care about yourself the way you care about me, Jaemin."

"I care about myself now, because you care about me."

You chuckled. "That's still doing stuff for other people." Jaemin smiled and stroked your under eye with his thumbs. "It's not for other people. It's for you. Because I love you, Y/N."

You bit your lower lip as a new tide of tears announced their way.

“I never said I care about you though,” your lower lip trembled after you let it go. “You don’t have to say it.” “I hate you.” “Yeah,” he kissed your lips. “And I don’t like cuddles and I don’t like breakfast.” “Yeah,” he kissed you again.

And again.

Until you didn’t let him go anymore and he was sure of being loved back.

#jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin one-shot #nct #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct fanfiction #na jaemin

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jockpoetry · 3 years

Note

supernatural sees women as a tool for development and strengthening of narratives/motivation and dean sees his body as a tool. is that anything?

When I saw this ask I really made the 🥴in real life. So, yeah anon, I do think there’s something to this.

Quick Disclaimer before I actually launch into my thoughts™: A lot of my read of Dean stems from my experience as both an oldest daughter and a transman. Being the oldest daughter was an experience I lived for many years, but I am also a man. I wasn’t raised as a man, I wasn’t socialized as a man, and even though once I came out upon reflection my masculinity was obviously there. Like I was a man™ before I knew I was a man. Even when I actively tied my identity to femininity for a long time! A lot of my prideful moments were based around statements like: “I was the only girl who (fill in the blank).”

So I am just putting that out there before I launch into my spiel about Dean/Gender/Tool because they all interlock for me.

I am also going to apologize in advance because I know this has fully gone off the rails and I’m not even done writing it yet. If this is incomprehensible ! Well, happens to the best of us.

First off, most importantly I guess before we discuss womanhood and Dean and the way both are utilized on the show I need to say that I personally don’t subscribe the whole Dean is female coded thing.

It’s a read I can absolutely understand. But for me..he’s not.

He’s a hypermasculine man to the point that when (and because he is written as a punchline, as the stupid™ brother, as the whore™, as the mother/father™, as daddy’s blunt instrument™, etc) Dean deviates from the pre-accepted definition of hypermasculine it’s Wrong.

It’s Instantly Feminine.

I think the internet has made the world very black and white, or blue and pink maybe. This point, I think, colors a lot of these discussions. Dean cooks, he cleans and so therefor he’s female coded. When that really just feeds back into the whole toxic masculinity loop. You can’t be masculine and cook and clean and cry. That’s for feminine people only.

I get the argument! I do, I just think that Dean’s actions are not inherently feminine, it’s just in the vacuum of Female and in the Absence of Traditional Masculinity it makes sense to assign him female coded and move on.

IN FACT the way that Dean is the action hero of the show, the Masculine™ one on the show - but he cries, and he rages, and he cooks (Again and Again) and cleans (Again and Again). The fact he’s macho and confident but he has so little self esteem. Is frankly insane to me. You have this blaze of glory character who is so depressed that they have him kill himself. Twice. In explicitly “I hate myself, I hate hearing all the things I hate about myself, I want to destroy myself” ways.

On just a regular ol’ network show that is just ungodly bad at times. They let their Male Hero cry - all the time (if I linked every example of this the essay would be...longer than it already is, but just take my word for it). Dean tears up and grieves and shows more than just Angry Horny Violent™ (he shows plenty of that, don’t get me wrong) but he’s Emotional (Again and Again and Again). In many different ways!

I mean, beyond even just tearing up, they make their Male Hero™ face sexual violence in pretty, uniquely horrifying - and queer! - ways.

Let’s make it clear, they did a lot of this unintentionally.

Or they do it as a joke.

Off of dean for a moment to say women are plot devices in this show. I could probably count on one hand female characters who have sincere depth to them that have roles outside of progressing plot, filling a filler episode, and who are still alive. Like even characters such as Charlie who are wholly developed, and interesting, are only remembered/mentioned/utilized to progress plots or fill an episode out - and then she dies. For pain™ for plot™ for no other reason than to traumatize a character.

Which let’s also make it clear Dean’s trauma is also only used as a plot device (as is Sam’s but in a different way, and Cas’ trauma is a whole other barrel of fish we’re not gonna dive into right now). Like wholesale full stop they don’t actually care about what happened to him. Unless it’s relevant in an episode.

Oh that boys home he was left at when he was 16 for months? Sure we’ll sprinkle that in in the back half of the series. Oh he was covered in bruises and said it was from a hunt (when it’s clear contextually they were from his father but saying the fantastical but true is easier than saying the uncomfortable but true). As Dean says though the story became the story, he was sixteen. He just went along with what John said.

We only see Dean ever truly rage at John, by the way, when either Dean is dead (when he’s between life and death and he rages at John, right before John “apologizes” for traumatizing him, for putting too much on Dean’s shoulders, and fucking dying) or John is dead (the Djinn episode where Dean is straight™ and John is dead™ and he goes to his grave and just yells and rages like he should have to his father in the real world).

Dean’s trauma from being both tortured and torturer in hell? Yeah, we don’t talk about that after it’s Relevant™. Even though it’s clear - especially in the demon!dean, mark of cain era, all those years later - Alastair still has his hooks inside of Dean. I stopped watching originally after s8 ended. I was fed up with the show, and with this whole renaissance I’ve been doing a rewatch and I’m into season twelve now and it really has never come up again.

Even when he had the mark of cain and he was tasked with questioning and accused of torturing it was “the mark has changed you” and not “you were victim and victimizer in hell for forty years, which is longer than you’ve been alive on earth” (and, was about as long as he wound up living. Which is desperately sad.

Because we talk about Sam’s desire for a “normal” life but, Dean wanted out too. He was tired in the first few seasons of this show, he never had a chance to taste freedom (we don’t count the boys home, because that was a different kind of regimented life, and it was a false freedom) the way that Sam did in Flagstaff with Bones or at Stanford with Jessica. Love for Dean is sacrificing, it’s putting himself/his happiness/his well-being last.

Because Dean only knows love in the context of violence (like all of these fun examples, for starters) is a phrase that I’ve said a lot both in private chats and on here, and I absolutely think it goes to him being a tool (a blunt instrument, a plot device, so both textually and metatextually) instead of a person. Which Cas sees Dean’s shame/guilt and sees that side of Dean because he touched his soul, and saw more than just the Righteous™ man, more than just the tool, he saw A good man, not a machine.

On the other side though you have how “bad guys” view Dean: Desperate, Sloppy, Needy, Dean’s hole (Again), which is again so wildly counterintuitive to the story of a Macho Man Hero™. You’re using vocabulary that is both queering him and feminizing (and I know this a meme format, but sincerely it is done in a derogatory way it is feminizing. It’s breaking him down to bare parts, to a sloppy hole).

My whole rewatch I have been absolutely fascinated by how identity and free will is utilized/conceptualized on this show. Castiel has been my main focus, but Dean and how he is framed by himself and others is...fascinating - and frustrating. The writers inconsistency lends itself not only to this unintentionally queer character, but also one that again is incredibly easily read as a non-traditionally masculine character.

As a feminine character.

This show has so few female characters that of course it had to foist the roles/behaviors/plots that a female character might have onto a male character. Which I think is part of why reading Dean as trans (either transmasc, or transfemme) is so easily done like.

Half of these are shit posts, but you can find trans allegories/textual evidence in this show again, again, again, again, and again. And this is unintentional, they don’t want you to look at Dean and see woman, former future or present. Like a lot of these I’m sure are punchlines for them, because women/queer folk are punchlines to them.

Sometimes the only women in an episode are random witnesses who get two sentences of dialogue, and then the main guest character is a man. Who flirts with Dean, and Dean is receptive to it.

They paint themselves into a corner, there are female Rabbi. So easily could Aaron have been a woman instead of a man, but they made the choice to play up the HaHa Dean & Men card.

Because, again, Dean has filled the slot of Woman™ of Female Lead™ and the flirting would’ve been straight if Dean was a woman. It’s a plot device, they needed to have the guest character be disarming, be cute, make the main character flustered.

It’s just the main character is a man, because they’re allergic to women. But they still need those female plots, tools of femininity, to move their show forward. I mean I am a big subscriber to transmasc Jo (no idea if anyone else is with me on this one, but let me explain). Jo is in love with Dean (concept) not Dean (actuality). Which, we’ve all had our eggs cracked by someone like that. We were in love with them until we realized we just wanted to be them.

He loved her like a little sister, she loved him like a lost idol. He’s a golden calf and she dies for him, because she believed in him, she was the original character dashed at the altar of the Winchesters.

I fully believe if she had lived and if this show had a crumb of actual good writing Jo could have been a deeply compelling transmasc character. But I also think she’s a fascinating inversion of Dean. Dean is a Masculine Character who subverts Toxic Masculinity, Jo is a Tomboy™ she’s not your (if you take it straight, literally and metaphorically) average female love interest. She’s angry, she’s not soft at all, all edges and corners and thorns. She isn’t helpless, she’s stubborn but not in a “you’re going to get punished for this” way. She’s right when she’s stubborn. She’s helpful, she’s a martyr.

I could do a whole other essay just on Jo (and Ellen, and Ash, what a fucking trio!) but needless to say Jo was one of the first...plot device feminine tools sacrificed to this show. She was a regular, she was unique, she was an engaging character, and she still died (to progress the plot? no. for man pain? yeah, for like three episodes maybe, and then it’s forgotten just like the rest of Dean’s trauma, as we mentioned above).

Dean and Women and Love is a very interesting tool used too because. Boy they sure try to make Dean love women and it fails in small ways, and in big, meaningless, failed het domesticity (again) ways. Not to mention whatever Lust (in the form of a woman) having no effect upon him, when they could have used that moment to assert his Masculinity and Heterosexuality. He behaved normally? And...also...whatever the fuck the Adios thing was!

Like they have these opportunities to make him Traditionally (toxically) Masculine, but make the choice to...not? To soften him. Because it’s a tool. He’s their female lead, textually he had to take on the role of mother(/father) to Sam, but...I mean this is a million miles long already. I know, but we absolutely can’t not talk about his Paternal/Maternal behaviors. (Which appear again and again again and again, outside of his relationship with Sam even/especially). He’s the mother hen, sage, safety net, beacon, home to so many side characters they meet.

I mean in many ways Jody is also a Dean comparison. Lost her family. Found a new family. She is non-traditionally feminine, but easily flustered and Silly™ (let’s just drop the entire sex talk over family dinner scene with Alex and the boys and looking to them for help, even though she was already a mother, and she’s a cop, and a hunter and this confident no nonsense individual.... She’s not). We are meant to see her as this hard ass, but she makes extra food for the boys to take back to the bunker. She’s deadly in a fight, but also still easily overwhelmed and put into damsel mode, and she cares so much even in the face of adversity.

It’s also fun to see how Jo | Jody are reflections of Dean at different points of his life. Younger, cocky | Older, settled.

Even when the text tries to tell us that he’s not.

When it reminds us that he’s violent. That he is his father, even if he says that Sam is more like John (which was reflexive, which was angry because of Adam and how Sam was behaving like Dean in that episode, and yes there are parallels to be drawn between Sam and John, the show barely dives into them). Instead we’re told that Dean is John (Again and Again and Again and Again).

So intensely that a fanfictionalized version of the Winchester Gospels makes it an entire fucking musical number.

And yet, despite the texts insistence to make Dean Macho Man Father Reborn™ We get this Dean who is silly (and directly compared/contrasted to the female character in this scene), soft, in heels, nagging, and... Sully (you know Sam’s imaginary friend who has the same Haircut Dean has, who is a softer, shorter, friendlier, campier, version of Dean who was a replacement For Dean until the real one let Sam back in? That? Sully?) it’s hard to take them seriously.

Hell, even when he was A DEMON? What did they do? They had him sing off-key drunken karaoke, they had him doing this ! Like that’s your hero, unhinged, free to be as bad as he could be, and you put him in a cowboy hat in a romance with the king of hell.

The Female Lead, everyone. Who’s biggest betrayal(s) comes at the hands of his love interest (again, a man even though it was an angel who could’ve taken any vessel! who could’ve been recast, who canonically dies admitting his love to Dean - that one), who he tries so hard to be loyal to.

The contradictions of his character are laughable. He is so emotional, but if he is engaged about his emotions? He shuts down, or he’s exasperated about being asked about them. It really is Female Lead/Only Here For The Plot disease, because everything is more important than him. How’s he doing? Doesn’t matter outside of the context of how x character is doing or that y character is dead. Or his emotions only matter if they’re done in penance.

They also really do frame him as Pretty Boy™ in a violent way, or in a derogatory manner. They’ll give us homoerotic shots like this or these and never really acknowledge how these are gay shots. Sorry the gun scene is a a straight up sex scene, the beer sip spilling out over his mouth is oral, the scene where Cas fills up Dean’s glass with whisky is also a sex scene, they do this shit on purpose but accidentally queer it up. If Dean was a woman these scenes wouldn’t even matter. They’d be passing moments, but because he is not just a man but A Man™ they’re insane to see.

Not to mention all of these scenes and all the ones I haven’t linked where Dean dresses up. He performs masculinity, but he performs femininity too. He’s a plot device that is slotted in to whatever role they need. He’s Super Straight Butch Man™ but coaches the lesbian on how to successfully flirt with a man. He’s Action Hero™ who sits through a montage with the same lesbian and yays and nays her outfits, and enjoys himself.

Fuck he loves dressing up, he feels better in these costumes because performing a character is easier than being himself. Because who is Dean? He’s a tool, both textually and metatextually. It is exactly how the women and because of the women on the show that Dean is the way that he is. If there was a more steady female presence Dean would not be half as much of a plot device or half as camp/gay/feminine/non-traditionally masculine/queer coded as he is.

In conclusion....

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn meta #spn #gender #anon #replies #messages #my writing #ANYWAYS PHEW okay anon i don't know if i even fully got to your point but i woke up at like 3:30 to this ask and i've been fixated on it #HOPE THIS IS EVEN JUST a little bit coherent #the way i meant for this to talk so much more about transness and eldest daughter syndrome and just FORGOT #oops #oh well

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