#i just need some time on my own to sort through some emotions.
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my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue
just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺
warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him
you did it without thinking.
it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.
rafe.
the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you.
this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.
you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.
but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.
except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again.
your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?
and if he isn’t?
there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already.
you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.
you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.
holy fuck.
your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.
what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago.
for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.
should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.
“i can hear you breathing.”
panic sets in.
summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there.
you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”
his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones.
“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”
you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?
“i didn’t run?”
his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”
the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?
“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“
“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.
you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.
“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”
his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.
“hey, sweetheart, this is me.” his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”
but he’s not your rafe anymore.
that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him.
a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.
"yeah..."
rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”
if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.
you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view.
you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.
"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“
rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal.
"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”
“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“
his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”
tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."
“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.
“it was! i’m a shitty person.”
his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”
“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”
the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.
he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.
you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.”
rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”
without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.
“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”
“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”
you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.
“i have a date.”
a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations.
rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”
but you only sob harder.
"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”
but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe.
"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”
but you are. at you. at him.
the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.
you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.
"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"
it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.
rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”
“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”
his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.
"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed.
you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.
"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."
but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.
"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."
you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them.
it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing.
“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”
it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.
and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.
“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”
for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say.
and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.
“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”
his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”
“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”
and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.
and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fluff#rafe angst#rafe cameron angst#rafe x reader#rafe fic#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x kook!reader#obx rafe cameron
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Pick a Card: Month Ahead #01
This was written for May 2024 but with the intention to be timeless, so even if you find it later there might be a message for your next month.
We'll look into your energy coming into the month, but also what will be the theme/area of focus and what you'll need to pay attention to, as well as the surprises that might come your way.
It's my first time doing a pick a card like this so we'll see how it turns out! I love doing those privately though.
As always, be mindful that this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not be 100% fitting for your situation, and that it's based on the energy you hold at the moment of selecting a pile that draws you to one of them.
PILE 1
Cards: Page of Cups, Queen of Wands, 9 of Cups, Ace of Swords, the Emperor, Strength, 5 of Cups, the Moon, Queen of Cups, 5 of Wands rx, Ace of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, Page of Wands
For your energy coming into the month, I see you being in a state of being in tune with your heart, opening up to the possible rise of a new romantic connection. I get the sense that you're cautiously optimistic about it, because while you feel confident within yourself and in a happy place, you're also aware that it's too early to tell. But you're not letting that deter you and you're fully embracing your own power, feeling good about yourself and where you're at while looking ahead hopefully and waiting for an opportunity to move forward. I think for you the process of the month ahead has already started a bit before the start of the new month and you're continuing the process.
When it comes to the theme of the month, I see the importance of putting your emotional fulfillment at the forefront and being actively working towards it. There is a need to bring clarity about the situation, clarity that will bring you contentment and tie loose ends. You will be determined to work through that with willpower and determination by taking the lead and stop wasting time around. I think you are seeing the path forward for this connection and you're determined to go for it and not let it escape. You got four cards here and they all represent a different element, which I interpret as the fact that harmony within and for yourself will be a big theme as well. Between your feelings, your thoughts and your actions, everything will be grounded in your authentic self.
I think these past few months have not always been great for you and you're determined to leave that behind and enter the new chapter of your life. You've learned all you had to about your old ways and now you're ready for a change. So for the goal you'll have in mind, you will be focused on not falling back into the same patterns of thoughts and behaviors and keep moving forward with determination and a sense that you can't go back to what you once where.
The challenge that will arise will come from your own psyche. I get the sense that you still have unresolved issues within yourself that may cloud this great picture, so you will have to be extra careful about not letting your fears and doubts making you spiral down and do or say something that doesn't align with your truth. You might go through times where you feel irritable or anxious and you may take that as a proof that things are going to shit again and you might want to run away, but it's an illusion. It just means that you still have some inner clutter to sort out. Be careful about not shutting yourself off from others as a reaction to your inner pain.
When it comes to a surprise coming your way, it seems there will be an event that will create a shift from a confusing and chaotic situation to one of open communication of feelings, laying out a more positive base for the future. I'm getting the sense that this is what the theme of the month was referring to, and while you seek it, you don't really know how it will unfold so it will still be a surprise when it happens. When this even happens, be as open and honest as possible in order to clear out any possible miscommunication, be kind and listen to what the other person has to say with empathy and love at heart.
What you'll have gained by the end of the month will be a stable and solid start towards the future. Things are blossoming but you'll have learned that there's no point rushing into anything and that things come when the time is right. You'll be set to build on that for the months to come. Maybe the start of a new commitment although things are in their very early stage.
As a final advice, it is important not to shut yourself off from your emotions and not to stay stuck in your old ways of remaining passive. Stay open and assertive, go after what you want and I get the strong message that you need to communicate openly about everything that isn't clear in this connection. Don't just wait around for things to fall onto your lap. Be passionate and enthusiastic and again be clear about your intentions. Also, you're learning something new and important so be gentle with yourself if you don't get everything perfectly from the get go, what matters is to do your best.
PILE 2
Cards: King of Wands, Queen of Cups, the Lovers rx, 8 of Cups rx, Queen of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Memento Mori, 10 of Swords, King of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, 2 of Wands, The Chariot, Knight of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 3 of Cups rx, 7 of Cups
For the general vibe of this pile, it feels a bit overwhelming like there is so much to pay attention to that you are somewhat disconnected from yourself as a result, because your feelings are so confusing that you get lost in them. There are A LOT of court cards, which may mean that there is a situation that brings the intervention of a lot of different people, perhaps it will be busy at work, or something involving family, creating a very messy situation where everyone has something to say and you can't hear yourself anymore. Really there is so much external influences here that I had a hard time picking up on YOU until the end of the reading.
For the energy you have coming into the month, I really think you are in a committed relationship with someone (and if not it's not your pile), but there is a big disharmony here. It seems one of you is on the way out of the relationship (represented by the King of Wands), and the fact that the Queen of Wands shows as a challenge later in the reading, I'm getting that this person already has someone in mind. It seems you are longing for the way the relationship used to be and it feels over, but you are having difficulties moving on right now. It's also possible you're just longing for the idea of Love altogether and wishing you could drop everything you have right now to run towards it. There is a choice to be made but right now at the end of the month, you are not making a move one way or another.
The theme of the month to come for you pile 2 makes a lot of sense considering what I already wrote. You will have to focus on your own clarity and get grounded in yourself, trying to find stillness in the chaos that surrounds you in order to get the answers you need, based on your own guidance. I'm also getting that you feel resistant to change and the call of life, and that you may feel a bit dead inside and numb as a result. There is a need to find excitement for the miracle of life again which has been lost due to your complex situation. ''The meaning is in the Middle'' is what's written on the card and writing down in case it speaks to anyone.
For what you'll consciously focus on this month, I'm getting just like...trying not to break down completely and at the same time keeping up with your demanding job and practical life issues. Perhaps this impending breakup is causing financial stress and you don't know how things will turn out. So your goal will be navigating that in order to stay on top of things both mentally and professionally/financially.
Okay this is where it finally clicks because I was confused whether you where the one with the third party of the one who is perhaps cheated on. With the King of Pentacles longingly looking at the Queen of Wands (the third party I mentioned before - don't take gender into account though) standing next to him, I'm getting that YOU are wondering how to welcome this new passionate connection into your busy life and how to make it fit from a practical standpoint with your current relationship. The Queen seems to be both a challenge and an opportunity, I don't necessarily get that this Queen is a bad omen, it's just a difficult situation that require a choice on your part.
For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, I'm not getting a particular event but rather, how it will change the course of what you're doing. This surprise will force you to weight your options and start pursuing what you desire, getting out of that rut you are in. There will be progress moving forward as I don't think you'll be left indecisive for too long. There is a sense of urgency here, whether it's perceived or true, you will feel it deeply and it will push you into actions. You will be surprised by how determined you suddenly feel after the indecision of the past.
What will be gained after the month ends is a newfound stability as you'll have regained your footing. From that point in the spread it's like things have cleared up a bit and there's open space. There is a new beginning on the horizon but unlike the urgency that led you to that point, there is now the need to take things slow and build strong foundations.
The advice you got was that, well, it's time to choose what you want to do with this third party. You can't keep holding things like that without making a choice. You might also need to distance yourself from bad influences around you like friends or family and again focus on yourself. The second advice is about restoring some type of balance between giving and taking. It seems someone has or will give you something and you'll have to give something in return so that not to break the flow of the relationship.
PILE 3
Cards: 4 of Swords rx, 8 of Pentacles, 4 of pentacles, 3 of Pentacles rx, 7 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 9 of Wands, Justice, 4 of Wands, King of Cups, the Moon, 9 of Swords, Temperance, 6 of Swords, the Fool
For your energy coming into the month, I see that you might have been feeling burnt out for a while now due to over-exhausting yourself with work or your studies, something you've put a lot of care and energy into in any case. You feel stagnant and somewhat demotivated and the whole thing is weighting on you. It's like you've put so much effort into working on this issue that you feel totally depleted emotionally. However, you can't seem to let go a bit in order to get things flowing again and you remain stuck, fearing everything is going to go to waste if you relax a bit.
The theme of this month will be to find your support system and reach out for help in order to get you to find new solutions to your issue. Not everything can be done alone. Furthermore, not every project can be rushed through all the time, sometimes you have to let it rest for a bit and let it grow under the surface of the soil. You will find great benefit from focusing on your own enjoyment and pleasure for a change in order to find a new perspective on your situation.
Despite that, it seems your mind will still be set on proving yourself this month. It's like, you feel burnt out and stagnant, and instead of getting the cue that you need to slow down a bit, you look at others and wonder why you can't hustle like them. Basically you're sensing there is an issue but you're trying to solve it in a toxic way by comparing yourself to others and feeling threatened by their success, triggering your self esteem issues.
The challenged you will have to face have to do with accepting to restore the balance in your life and take a break to have a bit of fun. Sounds like a false problem but it seems it's quite difficult for you to do at the moment because you're so focused on your tasks. It's a critical point though because if you don't cut off the toxic behaviors that are burying you into the ground, you will face the repercussions of your own non-action further down the line. You might have a hard time socializing because your heart is not there and you might feel left out, even though it would do you good to get a change of scenery and get out of your cave for a while.
For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, this will have to do with some type of emotional reconnection that will lead to more balance. It's very possible that it'll be uncomfortable at first as all the negative feelings you've been pushing under the rug all this time are resurfacing, but if you manage to stay afloat you will find a greater sense of mastery over them. I'm not getting anything precise as to what's gonna happen, but it will have to do with you being forced to take the blindfolds off and finally pay attention to your mental health. This might be the inner crisis you need to get back in a better shape.
What will have been gained by the end of the month has to do with leaving behind this way of doing and thinking you were holding onto at the beginning of the month. You will finally be able to get moving again, even if it will feel somewhat bitter and hard to do, remember it's for the better because you could not keep going on like you did.
The advice for you to help you navigate things is to not take everything so seriously all the time. Don't focus too much on what's not working or what you could do better or even on what you can't control, but try to find hope and the sense that a new beginning is at hand if only you open yourself up to it. Whoever is sending you this advice really encourages you to enjoy the little things and find your youthful spirit again. Things won't stay bleak forever so the best thing you can do is let yourself move along the stream.
#pick a card#pick a pile#tarot reading#divination#pac reading#pick a card reading#soaring wide#tarot#month ahead#may 2024
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HIII, I wanted to know if I could request a poly marauders x festy slytherin reader.Something of how they started or whatever you have inspiration for.I would love another part of that, if you feel up to it. Hope you are taking care of yourself <3
feisty/slytherin reader x poly!marauders is actually my favourite thing to write (followed closely by any ship with whimsical reader) so I was more than happy to whip this up for you! Thanks for requesting! 🫶
poly!marauders x feisty, fem, Slytherin!reader
CW: werewolf prejudice, making fun of possible birth defects due to Pureblood's being terribly inbred, swearing
Remus felt that generally, he was a very understanding person. And not just in a compassionate way, but also in a sense that he just understands a lot of things.
He understands Sirius’ need to defy his family whilst simultaneously looking after his brother as if his life depended on it.
He understands James’ need to make sure everyone around him feels as loved as humanly possible, even if it’s at his own expense.
He understands that Gryffindor’s hate Slytherin’s, but he also understands that not all Slytherin’s are horrible, prejudiced racists.
He understands everyone makes fun of Hufflepuffs for being soft and emotional, but he also understands that Hufflepuffs can be some of the most heartless, ruthless friends you can have.
What Remus has had a hard time understanding, however, was his boyfriends’ sudden interest in you.
Remus could admit that you were quite attractive, but you were also sort of…terrifying?
“What have you boys done?” Lily murmured in quiet horror (quiet awe if you asked James).
“We pranked Slytherin!” Sirius said jovially, as if Lily had somehow missed that key piece of information.
“I can see that, Sirius.” She said like one might speak to a small child who was quite dumb. “But on portrait day?”
Sirius smiled smugly as he watched Slytherin’s enter the Great Hall for their school portraits. As they passed through the door, they were unknowingly walking under a charmed mistletoe (which was very difficult to find this time of year, thanks James very much) which turned their green and silver robes and ties to a beautiful red and gold.
The best part is some students still hadn’t noticed yet, and another amazing part was that those who had noticed couldn’t figure out how to turn it back.
“Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew, and Mr. Lupin. I suppose the four of you have no idea who may be behind this prank?” Professor McGonagall challenged as she looked down her nose at them sitting at the Gryffindor table.
Sirius smirked as he responded “Why, not a clue Minnie. But I’ll keep my eye out and let you know if I see any mischief makers.”
McGonagall let out a long suffering sigh as she took five points from Gryffindor for improper address of a professor.
“You rotten dugbogs.” Remus heard you screech before he saw you. He had the good sense to cringe as you stormed up to their table whilst Sirius and James grinned enthusiastically.
“Why hello Y/N, my beautiful angel.” James greeted as Sirius let out a sultry “Don’t you just look smashing in red.” Accompanied by a wink.
“I don’t know what you sods have done, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the rest of them; but you will fix this.” You spat angrily gesturing to your faux Gryffindor uniform.
“But that would be such a crime, dollface.” Sirius lamented.
“You can’t expect us to mess with perfection.” James added.
You shot your hand out and grabbed James’ collar, pulling his face to yours until your noses were nearly touching.
“I swear to Salazar himself, Potter, if you do not change my robes back, I will cut your dick off and charm it to your forehead so you walk around looking like a limp-dick unicorn. Change. It. Back.”
Your voice was low and threatening, and Peter actually gulped as he hid behind Remus. But looking at James’ face pressed up to yours, you would have thought you had just serenaded him with the greatest love song known to man.
“You have such beautiful eyes.” He murmured in awe. Remus was certain he could see steam forming behind said beautiful eyes, but before it could shoot out of your ears, Sirius came to your rescue.
“Very right, Prongs. She does have beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, I believe her usual green does compliment them better than the red.” Sirius said lasciviously as he cast the counter charm to return your robes to their rightful colour.
You looked down at your form before looking back at the boys skeptically. You seemed only then to realize you were still holding onto James’ collar like a vice and dropped it. Remus almost chuckled at the look of loss that crossed James’ face.
“Right.” You said and cleared your throat, backing away from them as if you weren't fully trusting what just happened. “Thank you.”
Sirius’ head actually reared back in surprise at your thanks and James beamed.
“Anytime angel, truly.”
James’ pet name seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you’d been in as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Terribly sorry, my love.” He relented.
You groaned in exasperation and carried on towards the Slytherin table.
“Isn’t she lovely?” James whispered in awe, eyes still glued to your form as you bodily shoved Evan Rosier out of what Remus could only assume you had dubbed as your seat at the Slytherin table and sat down.
“Try bloody terrifying.” Peter shivered in horror as he finally extricated himself from behind Remus.
“Oi! Don’t talk about our future missus that way, Wormy.” Sirius squawked and swatted at the poor sod with his copy of the Daily Prophet.
“Is he wrong, though?” Remus asked as he let out his own breath of relief.
“Don ‘t worry moons,” James murmured into Remus’ cheek as he pressed his nose into the werewolf’s hair line. “She’ll win you over soon.”
Remus wasn’t so sure.
You were the only Slytherin photographed in proper uniform that day.
A few weeks later found Remus sitting horrifyingly uncomfortable in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they moved on to the unit featuring Werewolves.
James sat on his right, and though the shaking of his knee under the table gave away his nerves, he spent the entire class rubbing soothing circles along the back of Remus’ hand with his thumb.
Sirius, sitting on Remus’ left, was incredibly stiff and clearly poised to fight if given the chance which did nothing to ease Remus’ discomfort. It also didn’t help that they shared this period with the 6th and 7th year Slytherin’s.
He just wanted this day to be over.
“Why are we even talking about this?” Mulciber sneered, interrupting the professor as they discussed elements of the Wolfsbane potion.
“What is your question, Mr. Mulciber?” The professor drawled out in a bored tone.
“Why bother discussing werewolves? The lot of them should be culled anyway; euthanize them on site for all I care.” He spat, earning snickers from Avery, Goyle, and Snape.
Sirius sucked in a breath in preparation of a verbal (and possibly physical, should he be so lucky) spar when Remus dug his nails into Sirius’ thigh. “Please, Pads.” He begged quietly; voice taught with emotions.
Sirius let out a pained sigh and leaned back further into his chair.
“Funny, Mulciber.” A bored tone commented, “I was just thinking the same about you and your lot.”
Remus, James, and Sirius all turned to see the majority of the eyes in the room already on you, though you never bothered lifting your head from your textbook.
“Care to repeat that, L/N?” Mulciber sneered, sitting up in his chair as if ready to lunge at you if necessary.
You lifted your bored gaze from your book and stared at him head on. “Do I need to repeat myself, Mulciber? Mummy and daddy kept it too close in the family tree, huh?” You murmured in faux sympathy. “I was just thinking, most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight ought to be culled. That would save the wizarding world a whole lot of trouble.”
“How dare you compare me to some filthy half-breed. My family is royalty compared to those disgusting creatures.” Avery shouted.
“The only one acting like a disgusting creature here is the likes of you tossers.” You shouted back.
“Alright.” The professor tried (not very hard, albeit) to quell the quickly spiralling discussion.
“I could hardly look at myself in a mirror if I’d been tainted with a curse like lycanthropy.” Snape sneered, pointedly facing the Marauders across the room. Sirius burned with shame and protectiveness, being the reason Snape knew Remus’ secret and the overwhelming need to defend his lover. Remus took that moment to dig his nails into Sirius' thigh again, pinning him to his seat.
“Are you sure, Snape? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live a life with lycanthropy than have to look at that mug of yours in the mirror every day.” You drawled.
“You insolent little bitch.”
“Hey!” James finally shouted from across the room, far more stern than Remus can ever remember seeing the boy. But you carried on, completely undeterred.
“I’d bet ten thousand galleons that not one werewolf ever asked to be a werewolf, yet you wake up each and every morning actively choosing to be the ugliest, most hateful, vile, disgusting beasts known to mankind. That is what is despicable. That is what should be euthanized on site.” Your voice grew louder and louder with each word until you were standing behind your desk and punctuating each word with a slam of your fist against the table in front of you.
“Alright, that’s enough.” The professor finally called; tone booming across the lecture hall intoning no nonsense.
“Mr. Mulciber, Mr. Snape, and Miss. L/N. Detention with me this evening.”
The Slytherin boys all scoffed and cursed under their breath whilst you offered a bored shrug of your shoulders, returning to your textbook as though this was just a run of the mill day for you.
The boys had been absolutely right; you just won over the affections of one Remus John Lupin.
#ask elle#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#marauders era#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#james potter#remus lupin#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly marauders x you#poly marauders x reader#poly marauders#poly!marauders#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#slytherin!reader#ellecdc fics
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🔮 OPPOSITES ATTRACT
synopsis. a quiet slytherin and a loud gryffindor find themselves on a chilly evening, which results in something unexpected — at least for people around them. the oldest weasley’s daughter finds herself infatuated with nott’s only child and vice versa, even if their worlds seem so different, being apart just doesn’t feel right.
notes. theodore nott x weasley!reader. slightly sunshine x grumpy (pretend you’re a ginger if ur not). part 2 containing the date, thoughts?
theodore nott never thought he would be given a chance to love and be loved, upon all the terrible mistakes he has made. and maybe it seemed silly for a sixteen years old to say, but with an upcoming war, he wasn’t so sure if he could live through it.
theodore nott never thought he would have someone to call his own, someone to help him, when times get tough or someone who would understand him wordlessly. to be fair, theodore nott never thought he deserved anything like that, so the surprise on his face, when he found someone who was involuntarily willing to be his person was enormous.
he was walking around the crowded streets of the city, the dim lighting allowing him to see muggles running around with different expression on every other face he has passed — some of them were happy, cheering the slowly creeping holiday on them, some of them were exhausted and/or angry, probably from trying to find a perfect gift for someone and failing. just watching them gave him some sort of comfort, he had never had to look for gifts too much, his father wasn’t keen on being all festive and christmas was just any other day. the exception itself was looking for presents for his friends, which never had troubled him so much he looked exhausted.
he was in his thoughts, when he felt like he collided with someone. his eyebrows were squinted as he looked down on the red-haired girl, whose face was all red, either from cold or embarrassment. though, there was something so familiar about the girl that made him study her face for a brief second, the tea stain on his unzipped jacket didn’t seem to bother him at all, not as much as the familiarity of the girl.
“oh my god, i am so sorry, sir.” she let out ashamed that she didn’t look where she was going and that she probably ruined someone’s evening with her no sugar, lemon tea. it was then, when the familiar girl finally gave up and looked at the person she rudely bumped into.
“nott?” her words weren’t coated with layers of disgust and regret that out of all the people in london that night, she bumped into theodore nott. her words had surprised and confused undertones, almost as if she didn’t mind seeing him there. now, he obviously recognized his attacker — y/n weasley, a girl he sits behind in history of magic, a twin sister of potter’s best friend, someone who should hate him with burning passion.
“are you alright?” redhead’s question took him off guard.
theo was expecting something else, like a mockery of the fact that he was walking amongst muggles without hexing them all. though to be honest, theodore never hated muggles, well, yeah, he said some stupid shit, when he was younger and he was far from proud, but it was the need to appease his father. he definitely didn’t expect to see the worried manner in her, her brows scrunched as she tried to read his emotions, while standing in front of him in silence.
“theo…?” repeated y/n. he wasn’t alright and he didn’t know if he should show it. for merlin’s sake, he really wanted to get so much things out of his system, but venting to a weasley? he knew better than that — she would probably go around, and spread out the word about everything she heard from him.
nott was about to mumble something in response, when her eyes flickered with concern, demolishing all his justification why shouldn’t he talk to her for longer than needed. she was genuine, not caring that ron and harry weren’t on a good terms with him, she wanted to know, and help if possible.
so, theo simply gave up the act. “uh, no. not really.” he confessed, confirming all the suspicions she got to gather from observing him for a few minutes, when he thought of an answer. her expression changed from concerned to slightly sad, even.
before the boy could realize, he was sat in one of the small coffee shops beside her, a half empty, steamy cup of hot chocolate in his hands as they talked. something was so incredibly off about the way they conversed, first time in a while, he never wanted to conversation to end, just like when he was talking to his friends. his body itched at the thought that soon both of them would have to come to their respective houses and the talk would be just a memory that never happened again.
he had to admit that y/n’s presence was soothing. it was like the smell of a freshly printed new book, a cigarette on a foggy morning, a sensation of someone’s nails gently scratching the inside of his palm. the last one was a habit his mom developed to calm him down before she died, leaving him with an aching need for someone to find out about his perk and do it when he needs.
her muffled laughter filled his ears as he watched the girl cover her lips with a palm, he couldn’t help but smile. the gloomy atmosphere that he brought with his tiny vent was long gone, since she declared it her mission to make him feel better. so, since he wasn’t a big talker himself, she let him listen to all the stories from when she was growing up. even though he never experienced a family like hers, a family that cared for each other, it was comforting.
his eyes darted to the clock hung up on a wall, followed by hers and a long sigh that left his lips. his fingers ran through his curls as he parted his lips to bid goodbyes, though y/n was faster. “we could meet up here some other time, if you want.” she gave him a shy smile, the one he never thought he would see on her face.
y/n weasley wasn’t the shy type of girl, she was a big talker, a smart-ass with witty comebacks and a obnoxiously loud aura coating her small frame, though right now, upon his gaze that wandered around her face for quite some time now, she grew shyer.
“uh.” stuttered theo. “yeah, i guess it’s a good idea.” his reply made her smile go bigger, and in the back of his head, it felt like a reward for the decision he just made, some kind of reassurance that he did something good.
“perfect.” she grinned, taking the two of their cups and taking them to the shop’s kitchen, revealing that either she works there, or she’s just insanely crazy for barging into someone’s workplace as an unwanted stranger. “there’s a fireplace in the back.” weasley added, taking his hand in hers before he could even refuse (he wouldn’t though).
the tips of her long nails gently grazed his palm, when she led him the back, greeting a few of her coworkers. her touch on his skin ached, almost burnt, although if that’s what the insides of a normal, fireplace without floo powder felt like, he could grow to like it, only if a part of her body was pressed against his. few minutes later theo’s hand felt empty as he watched her disappear in green flames, having bid their goodbyes.
***
theo hated that feeling. this warm, strange feeling that coated his heart whenever he thought about the obnoxious gryffindor, who he met at those muggle streets. nevertheless, he found himself unable to think about someone else. he was replying to a letter pansy has sent him, and the only thing he had on his mind was y/n, he wondered if ginny told her about her little getaways with theo’s best friend, if all her brothers got back to their house, and — if she thought about him.
his hands throbbed. his fingers wrapped tightly around the quill, before putting it down on his deck. why on earth would he text her? it was one accidental meeting at some crowded street, one conversation that shouldn’t mean anything to them.
nott squeezed his eyes, the muscles on his face tensed as he focused on the paper in front of him, scribbling down a few words in his neat handwriting. a long sigh has left his lips, his eyes tracing the sentence he wrote for her. shit, why would he even do that? if any of his friends knew, he’d have been doomed — one weasley hanging around their friend group was enough, but he didn’t want to push draco nor blaise’s limits.
on a christmas’ eve, he went out for another walk, slightly hoping in the back of his mind that he’d accidentally bump into her again. this time, theodore would make sure to hear her laugh more often, to see her teeth, when she smiles or to watch as she gets shyer upon his gaze on her face.
his feet got him into a familiar looking café, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion — he couldn’t pinpoint from where he knew the place — and looked around. then, he heard it.
“theo!” a female voice rang in his ears. the boy turned his face, a smile slipping onto his lips as he realized where he was. the god damned café y/n was working at. “what can i get you?” a grin spread across her face, visibly delighted to see him there, almost as if she hoped for it.
her forearms laid on the counter as her body leaned a little closer, her hair pinned up in a ponytail that probably got ruined during her shift from running around the place, having a chat with each customer every now and then, a pinkish tint on her cheeks, maybe from the heat in the back or maybe, because he was there.
it took him a second to realize that he was staring with his mouth slightly parted. “uh—” he stuttered, getting a small, barely audiable giggle in response. “i just came to see you.” he blurted out. thank god his ears were covered by the beanie, because just by saying those six words got him all flustered.
“theo.” his name sounded so well coming from her. theodore wanted to hear it again, again, and again. it was melodic, like most beautiful song he’s ever heared. how could he get so whipped after one hangout?
“i hoped you’d come by.” she confessed shyly. “i have something for you in the back, could you give me five minutes? i gotta tell the manager i’m taking a break.” she beamed at him sweetly, rushing off to the back, taking off the green apron that hung on her waist in the meantime.
when she came back, she was still wearing the café’s shirt with a small, green logo, black jeans, and was carefully walking towards his table with a neatly wrapped package and on a top of that a plate with a big piece of some sort of chocolate cake, two drinks (the same as last time), and a cookie. her hair wasn’t in a ponytail anymore, ginger strands falling into her shoulders as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.
“you– you got me something?” a question left theo’s mouth, leaving him all surprised — the strange feeling warming him up from the inside. he took a big sip of the hot chocolate in front of him, hardly minding that he burnt his tongue, he didn’t want to say anything stupid. “y/n, we talked once and you… got me something?” he asked once again, not believing his own eyes.
the girl just smiled wider, passing the box towards him. “uh. yeah.” she answered, shrugging. “last time, you said that you never really celebrated christmas the right way, so… please open it.” she tried explaing herself, but gave up at the end, pushing the box further with her fingertips. “please?”
shit.
if she didn’t ask, if she didn’t give him those eyes and that smile. maybe he would be able to refuse, think of some lame excuse that wouldn’t hurt her feelings and give her the box back. but y/n was so sweet, and thought of him hard enough to prepare him a gift.
for half a second, theodore could see something flicker in her eyes, when his lean fingers gently pulled the green ribbon, ripping the gift paper afterwards. the gift turned out to be a sweater, a hand-made one that made the feeling come back to him.
the sweater was dark green, in the similar shade of his tie or the snake symbol on his robes, it had a large, dark blue letter T with a silver outline. his eyes scanned the piece of clothing, the corner of his lips going slightly upwards. “you got me your mom’s iconic sweater?” asked theo.
his mind was filled with different thoughts and emotions right now. he could never call y/n weasley a sweet girl, not because it wasn’t true, but because it would be an understatement — she was the sweetest, or at least somewhere in that range. his cheeks almost hurt from smiling at her, and never in his life nott had felt it.
“actually…” her cheeks started getting a little more pinkish than usual. “it’s based on my mom’s sweaters, i did it on my own. it might not be perfect—" y/n started rambling in nervousness, afraid that the boy won’t be happy about getting a meaningless piece of fabric from her.
“y/n, i love it.” theodore’s words were like honey to y/n’s ears, she gave him a small smile, not really expecting him to gently grab her hand out of sudden. the reason behind it? even theo didn’t know (probably to ease her nerves).
when he realized what he did, he wanted to take his hand back and mutter a quiet apology, the crime scene awkward as much as only possible. although, from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the pink on her face intensified, few more minutes of skin-to-skin contact, and she would turn into a tomato, so his hand stayed on hers, taking the chance and intertwining their fingers together.
“would you– uh,” the redhead started, stumbling over her own words, easily losing focus, each time his thumb stroked her hand, a tiny smirk hovering over his lips. “like to, uh, come here once in a while, you know… until the break’s over? keep me company, maybe?”
and he did. how couldn’t he? this girl was constantly on his mind ever since she bumped into him on the streets and spent literal hours at the café.
although, beside just keeping her company during the winter break — but also at school. he grew so fond of her (and believe me, it worked both ways) that cutting their fresh friendship short was something he couldn’t let happen. so… even though her younger sister was already swaying her way into theodore’s friend group, y/n seemed like a different topic.
theodore nott liked sharing. as unbelievable as it sounds, he really did. whenever he had something he enjoyed, he was willing to share, he was the type of person to give away his last cigarette to one of his friends, but the thought of sharing y/n weasley never crossed his mind. he wanted her all to himself, so… their hangouts always contained just the two of them.
small study dates in the library, late night walks around the courtyard, meet-ups in the room of requirement, picnics in the astronomy tower, while smoking some pot and cigarettes together.
back then, it felt strictly platonic. even if they called it their little dates, nott had a feeling they weren’t moving past the friendship line, while his emotions towards the girl were getting more and more serious. nevertheless, theodore was confident, but not confident enough to ask her out — to confess his silly crush without the fear creeping up on him that y/n would reject him and turn his dreams into nightmares.
***
the weather outside was getting better with each day until spending time inside the castle was unbearable. it was around the time, theo decided to finally push his luck and ask the girl of his dream out. ever since he woke up, he was nervously fidgeting with everything that got to his hands and when then classes were to start, it only got worse.
“you alright, theo?” a whisper left y/n’s mouth as she stood next to him in potions, her elbow nudging him lightly, trying to catch his attention.
merlin. the way his name sounded so wonderful on her tongue. if it wasn’t for the small attention-grabber, he would definitely accidentally ignore the question to daydream about how sweetly her voice is.
“no, i mean– yes, yes i am.” he stuttered. “i just– can i ask you a question?” she nodded, making his stomach turn around. “would you, uh– like to go out to hogsmeade with me? like on a date?” the question left his lips.
his throat went dry as he waited years for an answer (which was actually just about two seconds, theo’s brain just got really dramatic from stress), legs giving up, so he had to lean his palms on the table.
“f’course.” weasley grinned, not minding the blush that spread all over her face, just from the ask. “i thought you’d never ask, really.” she giggled, turning her eyes away for a second, before flashing him another beam of hers.
nott’s face was now bright pink. “i– what?” he was struggling to form a logical sentence. “you wanted me to–?” the boy was supposed to finish his thought, though it didn’t really sit well with snape who interrupted their little talk, postponing it until the evening.
the two of them were walking somewhere outside, laughing about something so insignificant, when the situation from classes popped into his mind. “so… about that date. you really want to?” asked nott.
he expected any kind of answer — yes, no, maybe, you should guess, nah — whatever was only possible. however, the feeling of her lips on his wouldn’t cross his mind. she kissed him. y/n has kissed him, leaving him breathless, when she pulled away.
“does that answer your question?” redhead chuckled, her fingers still curled up against the collar of his white shirt. he shook his head, still mind-blown. “yes, theodore faustus nott, i was dying to hear you ask me out on a date. whatever we have between us, i wanted it to move forward and go on a date with you.”
she laughed. “you really think i’d spend hours crotcheting a sweater for a guy i met few days earlier if i didn’t feel something? theo, i almost passed out when you touched my hand months ago.” another laugh left her lips that were now so close to his, clouding his mind with one certain thing.
upon hearing all those words, the boy couldn’t stop himself anymore, he pressed his mouth against hers, savouring the moment. cherishing the fact that she wanted him like he wanted her.
“the date is still a thing, yeah?” y/n smiled as her nose brushed his.
“you’re gonna love it.” he answered, grinning.
#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#pansy parkinson x ginny weasley#harry potter fic#harry potter fanfiction#theodore nott fic#theo nott x you#theo nott fic#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys fic#theo nott rec
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Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 3)
Part one
Part two
There's SO MUCH excellent meta out there right now, and I'm going to try not to reinvent the wheel too much, but I want to keep going with tying the episodes/ elements up together because on first watch it wasn't entirely clear how everything fit. I also strongly recommend a rewatch, no matter what you felt about the ending... if you need to stop it 10 minutes early, do that, but you pick up so much more the second time around.
So: Maggie and Nina. I spent most of my first watch wondering why we were bothering with them, honestly. Later in the season Nina, and then Maggie and Nina, gave Crowley some insightful advice, but their actual relationship didn't progress despite all the meddling, and the amount of emotional investment BOTH Aziraphale and Crowley had in making them get together was frankly strange.
I started thinking in terms of mirror couples, since that was such a big deal in S1 and that's clearly what they were set up to be, but I made the mistake that all of us made on first watch: that Nina was Crowley and Maggie was Aziraphale. It still wasn't really coming together.
Then I put the psych hat back on and started to think about displacement. Displacement is a defense mechanism, and it consists of satisfying an impulse (usually an unconscious one) with a substitute object. At the beginning of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't really in a good place, and I think on some level they know that. Aziraphale is trying to SHOW Crowley that he wants to take the next step through all the casual touches and phone calls and inviting him in, and feeling frustrated because Crowley doesn't seem to be taking the bait. (I absolutely think that Aziraphale tried to get Crowley to stay with him at the bookshop instead of living in his CAR, and Crowley said no. That's a whole other meta.) Meanwhile, Crowley, I think, is waiting for a Grand Gesture. Where did he go, as soon as Aziraphale brought up trying to get two humans to fall in love? Romantic tropes. Getting caught in the rain under an awning. A dramatic kiss that opens someone's eyes. That's the sort of thing he's always done, right? Big rescues, impassioned pleas on the street, fancy dinners, "give you a lift anywhere you want to go". He's defensive and guarded and unlikely to let someone in unless he's CERTAIN he won't be rejected, and Aziraphale's approaches are just too... quiet. No one's fault, they just don't speak the same language.
Then, they're handed the opportunity to make two humans fall in love, and they're both All In immediately. Look at Crowley's face when he summons the rainstorm. This is HUGE for him. Why? Because of displacement. Look at Aziraphale arranging the ball and being borderline deranged about it. They're both desperate to demonstrate what they think it takes for two people to move past their misunderstandings and fall in love. They can't do it for each other because the stakes are too high, and if either of them shows their cards unequivocally the vulnerability feels life-shattering. They're codependent and terrified of rejection and also, importantly, have no idea what they're doing when it comes to love. "Saw it in a film", Crowley says. Aziraphale's read about it in books. But they have zero practical experience.
Instead of learning to communicate, they try to say what they want to say through the medium of Maggie and Nina, up to and including the questionable moral decision to exert control over people's actions and thoughts during the ball. If I can just make this come out right, they both think, then things between us will be alright too. It HAS to come out right. They're attempting to gain some control over their own lives, over something that feels so overwhelming and shattering they can't look directly at it.
It doesn't come out right. Nina's relationship falls apart, but that doesn't mean she's in love with Maggie. While Crowley's stress-cleaning the bookshop to the music that played when Aziraphale got his books back in 1941 (just fuck me up David Arnold), they come in and tell him so. "I don't understand", says Crowley. Because it should have worked. Why didn't it work?
They tell him, of course. "You need to talk to each other. Say what you're really thinking." But here's the thing about communication: you have to learn it. You need to get the hang of expressing your feelings without blaming your partner, and separating intent from impact, and staying away from getting defensive and lashing out. No one has ever taught Aziraphale and Crowley how to do this. It's like Maggie and Nina put Crowley in front of a loom and asked him to recreate the Bayeux Tapestry. He doesn't have the skills; he's always going to get it wrong, even if he tries his hardest.
And he does try. But that's where Maggie and Nina the mirror couple, rather than Maggie and Nina the displacement relationship or Maggie and Nina the Greek chorus, come in. Aziraphale, as Nina, has just ended an incredibly toxic, invasive relationship with Heaven. A relationship that invaded every facet of his life, isolated him, and prevented him from being close to anyone else. "Rebound mess," Nina says. Aziraphale is a rebound mess. He's transferred the responsibility for his emotional wellness to Crowley. Crowley is the person he calls when he's in trouble, or (and this is key) when he wants to report a clever/ good thing he's done, or when he's bored. (At no point did Crowley reference Aziraphale calling him for a solicitous reason-- another problem.) Crowley is meant to take care of him. He forgets, I think, that Crowley is a person with his own wants and needs, just like Maggie and Nina are people with their own wants and needs who don't appreciate being messed with. (I think things would have been much different had Aziraphale BEEN THERE for Maggie and Nina's talk with Crowley, but he wasn't.)
And Maggie-as-Crowley? Lonely. Behind on rent, at risk of being evicted (it's important to note that Aziraphale saves Maggie from losing her record shop, as he couldn't save Crowley from losing his flat). Pining. Awkward. Revolving around Nina like a planet, to the extent that we don't get much of an impression of her otherwise. They realize, there at the end, that they both need to round themselves out before jumping into a relationship. Aziraphale and Crowley need that too. They need to take time apart and learn to be healthy on their own. Unfortunately they don't have the skills to get to that conclusion in a healthy way, so it all explodes in their faces and everything falls apart.
Aziraphale tries to teach Nina and Maggie to dance as a substitute for communication. Nina and Maggie try to teach Crowley communication as a substitute for the dance they've been doing around each other. That's the reason they're a part of the plot: they exist to demonstrate the way Aziraphale and Crowley might have succeeded in forging a better dynamic. Sadly, the boys' dance is too practiced and they got sucked right back into it.
It's okay, I think, that Nina and Maggie's storyline never really went anywhere. It wasn't supposed to. It's an allegory, not something that needs to stand alone.
#good omens#good omens meta#good omens analysis#good omens season 2#gos2#good omens season two#crowley#aziraphale#maggie#nina#defense mechanisms#the psychology of good omens#everything is meant#ineffable husbands
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The vagueness of Astarion sleeping mechanics drives me mad sometimes
So, the game says that elves don't sleep - to the point where it's ironically stated that the only way for them to experience sleeping is to either drink a potion of Angelic Slumber or "get hit really hard with a chair".
Instead, they enter a semi-aware meditative state (Revery) where they experience memories from their past lives (usually most positive and emotional parts). Or they just sorting through their current memories.
Now, we've seen Astarion meditating if his way of lying on a bedroll is anything to go by. He is also immune to sleeping spells. We could also see him sleeping (in a Durge run). I know that devs technically recycle the same sleeping pose for all romanced companions, but still. Also, Astarion has nightmares, which is not typical for elves.
Of course, when I was going through the lore, I scratched the surface, but from what I understood, Revery is supposed to be a controlled state, and nightmares aren't exactly controlled.
But, I've found a very interesting bit that (so far) is still considered part of the official canon:
Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one’s primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moonbow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams."
From: Mordenkainrn's Tome Of Foes, Chapter 2: Elves
And not only does this little bit explain a lot, but it also provides some food for your fic writing purposes.
Now, I'm entering the headcanon territory, so be warned.
Astarion's access to Revery got horribly fucked up after he had been Turned. Not only does he no longer have access to his previous lives since he is technically dead and plucked from the cycle, but he also can't even have his happy or good memories before he became a spawn. Even if they are still there, somewhere in the memory palace, getting to them requires going through the catalog of traumatic and painful memories he acquired after being enslaved by Cazador. It's like running through a burning house trying to rescue your family photo - and the hall gets longer each time. So, entering a trance means confronting the worst memories of his life over and over because there is nothing else there.
Due to this Astarion may resort to sleeping, which elves don't usually do. Elves don't like dreams because dreams are subconscious, and they can't be controlled, which scares them. For Astarion, however, it means there is a chance of him subconsciously dreaming of something nice or just being blissfully empty. However, it doesn't safeguard him from nightmares which (because they are the product of his unconsciousness) get even more twisted than simple memories.
Additionally, there can be a possibility that after becoming a spawn he got cut off from meditation and trances completely, relying on sleeping only: at least, the cut spawn epilogue by Withers mentions how while Astarion needs to sleep again, he doesn't sleep alone. While we don't know what that means exactly (and whether it will ever be implemented in the game), I assume that the tadpole gave him the ability to meditate back, but it was a small improvement because his memory headspace no longer holds happy memories capable of offering solace or refuge.
So, my personal headcanon is that he switches between meditating and sleeping depending on how aware he needs to be, and whatever option feels less torturous at the moment.
For instance, in his Origin run, when he remembers the moment of Cazador carving scars into him, he is in a trance. Which is why the memory is so horribly vivid, as if he is reliving it anew.
However, when he has a nightmare where Cazador finds him, he is sleeping and experiencing a memory affected by his subconsciousness. Which is why he jolts himself awake and desperate to know the limits of his freedom.
So, yes, the man literally can't catch a break.
On a happier note (and for your hurt/comfort fanfiction purposes), once Astarion starts traveling with Tav and the group, his memory bank gets updated with memories that are actually fun and nice, so he has something to linger upon when he is meditating. Sleeping gradually becomes a bit more pleasant experience because his subconsciousness got more material to work with, so the quality of his non-controlled dreams has to gradually improve.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#astarion#astarion brainrot#dnd elves are strange#feel free to correct me if i goofed up#because it's quite likely i goofed up
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some facts about astarion that i find very cute/meaningful :)
i wanted to share this so more people can learn about him and appreciate who he is deep down, behind the mask he wears. before cazador turned him, he was just like any other person; he had hobbies, passions and emotions. those things are still there, but they’re just hidden amidst all the darkness. he was so young when he first turned that he barely had a chance to enjoy life or figure himself out. so many people miss out on the complexity of his character due to only focusing on his physical appearance or labelling him as a cruel villain, but in order to see that he’s so much more than that and he’s capable of growing as a person, all you need to do is show him a bit of love!
- he loves embroidery and poetry
- he approves when you pet the owlbear cub because most people view it as a monster (the same way people have always viewed him). it’s like he finds comfort in the fact that you can love and care for something that most people are afraid of, and it gives him hope that you may feel the same way about him too
- if you put a flower on his grave, he smiles and says "cute"
- he comes up to you in camp just to thank you and tell you how grateful he is that you allowed him to make his own decision (after you defend him and don't force him to drink the drow's blood) because he is so used to being told what to do and he was forced to use his body for so many years
- in that same scene, he will hold your hand whether you choose to stay in a romance with him or be friends instead, because he loves and appreciates you no matter what, and any sort of relationship with you is so important and meaningful to him
- if you try to romance karlach and astarion at the same time, he tells you to choose karlach over him, even if he loves you and it hurts him to do so, because he can see that karlach loves you too. he says that normally an arrangement would work for him, but after everything karlach has been through and how fragile her heart is already, he doesn’t want to get in the way or see her hurt
- if you try to romance halsin and astarion at the same time, he just wants you to do what makes you happy, even though you can tell it hurts him if you choose halsin. he’s also worried that you’re unhappy because he hasn’t slept with you (he should never have to worry about that ☹️), so he doesn’t want to stop you from enjoying yourself. in this situation and the one with karlach, you can see that there are moments where he puts others before himself and thinks about their feelings more than his own
- if you’re playing as the dark urge and you’re trying to resist it, he is so incredibly comforting and tries to give you strength and encouragement. one of my favourite astarion lines is this: “you’re not alone in this, none of us are.”
some more lines that i love:
“i don’t hate you. because this is not you. but whatever it is, you’ll get through it. and i’ll be here to make sure you do.”
“whatever it is that’s controlling you, we can fight it. i know that better than anyone.”
“this thing won’t have you. it won’t win.”
“easy now, darling. you’ve got this. and i’ve got you.”
- when you try to break up with him because you’re transforming into a mindflayer and you tell him you’re becoming something horrible, he gets so upset that you would even think that way and tells you that you’re wonderful and he doesn’t care about what you look like. then he says he would get more stares walking down a street than you to try and make you feel better
- if you love and care for him and remind him that there is still good out there, he genuinely wants to grow, be a better person and break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago
- he approves when you help people that are considered outcasts or "freaks" because he has felt that way too
- he risked his life and got punished for letting a man go instead of luring him back to cazador because it’s implied he cared about him in some way and he couldn't hurt him (not entirely sure about this one, this is just how i interpreted it based on his voice and mannerisms when he was talking about him)
- he approves when you give an orphaned child food (act 3)
- he becomes vulnerable, honest and more gentle with you once you start treating him like a person, because for the first time in his life, he actually feels safe with someone
- he's extremely insecure despite the mask he wears at the beginning of the game and he doesn't believe he is capable of being genuinely loved for who he is as a person. when you get close to him and tell him you care for him and give him a hug, he is taken aback at first, but then he believes you and hugs you back. also, when you're playing as the dark urge, you get this line: "you like him for more than his looks, but he will never believe that." this is proof that astarion is so used to being reduced to his physical appearance after what he was forced to do for so many years, and he thinks that's the only reason why people like him. he struggles with intimacy and forming strong emotional bonds, so that's why it makes your relationship with him even more meaningful when he realises that you truly do love him for who he is, not just for his looks and body
- when the drow you met at moonrise shows up in act 3 and tries to make you drink something, astarion tells you to say no, because the only thing she's offering is pain and he doesn't want to see you hurt
- if you romance him, stop him from doing the ritual and help him defeat cazador, he tells you that you are the only person he's ever truly cared for
- if you defeat cazador without him and tell him you just wanted to protect him, he gets upset at first because you left him behind without telling him and he wanted to take revenge himself, but then he becomes understanding and says “maybe this is what’s best? the kind of power that ritual offered could ruin a person. even me.” this shows how much he’s grown and matured as a person and he’s aware of the consequences of too much power. the scene also ends with him telling you that he’s grateful for something that you did to help him (again).
- he becomes more self-aware, straightforward and honest over time and he doesn’t pretend like he’s perfect. he tells you that you were by his side through all the bloodlust and pain and misery, despite all of his flaws and mistakes. you remained patient with him and trusted him even though it was an objectively stupid thing to do, but he is so grateful for it because you believed he could become a better person (and he did)
- this is sad but he remembers some of the names of the people he had to lure back to cazador and even the memories he shared with them. you can see this during the scene with sebastian, and it’s clear that he actually cared about him (not sure how many situations were like this, but there was definitely more than one)
- if you say “i’m sorry we couldn’t save the other vampire spawn”, he says:
“we could have tried. we could have given them the same chance i had. i was able to go out into the world and make better choices. to go against my nature and become more than a blood-sucking monster. maybe they would have done the same. or maybe not - but did we have the right to take that choice away from them?”
this scene shows how much astarion has grown and how compassionate and empathetic he can be towards others. he understood what it felt like to have his own freedom taken away while cazador made all his decisions for him, so he didn’t want to put the other vampire spawn through that too (especially because he still feels so guilty for luring them there in the first place)
- if you romance him and he stays as a vampire spawn and you choose to help him look for a cure so he can stand in the sun again, this is revealed during the epilogue scene:
“one night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”
he’s finally truly happy and free, and the short time he’s spent with you is already so incredibly powerful and important to him. being with you has positively impacted his life in such a massive way that it makes all those centuries of pain and misery feel so much smaller
- another sweet line from astarion during the epilogue scene after he tells you to go catch up with your other friends and see how they’re doing:
“i’ll be here when you’re ready. i’ll always be here, my love.”
THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND GROWTH 😭🫶🏼 he’s become so kind, loving, respectful, genuine and sincere. i’m so proud of him 🥹
#astarion#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#absolutely nobody asked for this but i just thought it would be cute to share some positive stuff about him :’)#ALSO#shoutout to the wonderful neil newbon for bringing this character to life with his incredible voice acting#astarion wouldn’t be astarion without him :)#bg3 spoilers#character analysis#meta#kinda idk what to tag this as lol#my posts
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Megumi falling in love for the first time?
Attempts at Friendship are Unappreciated
Synopsis: Megumi doesn’t have a need for friends, let alone a lover. But upon getting his first crush, he learns some new things about himself, like maybe he cares more than he thinks.
pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x GN!Reader
content warning: SFW, potential friends to lovers, Megumi sorting out his feelings sort of stuff because cynical, overthinker Megumi is my favorite Megumi.
If you were to ask Megumi, he didn’t have any need for friends. And he has been asked before by people like Gojo and his sister. The answer was always the same. He prefers being alone. People were too complicated. Too selfish. Too good. Too everything, really. And he was, well, himself.
Even after arriving at Jujutsu High, it’s still unnerving to him to have someone talk to him so earnestly, like his eyes weren’t permanently fixed with irritation, like he wasn’t constantly avoiding others, like he didn’t wear indifference like a new fur coat in the height of winter.
Itadori was an unexpected exception. An outburst of emotion intravenously linked him to the other boy, the golden strings of their destinies twined and knotted together on Fate’s spinning wheel.
You, on the other hand, have no reason to befriend him. He’s never had anything to offer others in return for their company, which never bothered him until he met you.
Megumi questioned what it was about you that allows you to get so close. So, he lets you talk, chattering his ear off in the covered walkway hosting the vending machines.
He studies you inch by inch, searching for something in the bright expression on your face and the crinkle of your eyes when you smile; he still doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for. Your motive – the reason for wanting to talk to someone like him?
“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.
“I don’t have one.”
It may sound like a rude dismissal of your question but it's the truth, the painfully boring truth. He’s never put much thought into trivial things like that. The fact settles heavily in his stomach and rings hollow in his chest like when his sister said he’d never learn to make friends if he didn’t put himself out there.
Back then, Megumi pretended not to have heard her. In truth, it bothered him when she said it, only for the feeling to quickly fade away before he even left school that day. That strange void he felt back then always seems to resurface at the worst of times.
“Would you say that you like black or silver better? How about blue?”
Megumi looks down and plays with the tab on his orange juice can, avoiding the thing about you that makes him want to hear you talk. Megumi has no need for friends. Attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.
“They’re all fine,” he grumbles out. It’s the maximum he allows.
Megumi doesn’t have a type. It’s another one of those trivial things he’s never bothered to think about until his head was literally cracked through the pavement.
He knows all about types though, and he knows as much as he cares about romance from the bad to the good. Sweaty palms, blushing faces, pounding hearts were all reoccuring themes in his books.
Megumi never thought he’d have romantic feelings for anyone, no matter how fleeting. He reckons he isn’t capable of it. He just isn’t wired that way.
It’s comforting in a sense. It means he didn’t have to worry about attachments. Sure, he loves his sister, and Gojo, well, he cares for his benefactor, but he’s never considered the older man someone he felt okay investing all his feelings into. People his own age were complicated enough; adults were worse, his father was worse; the little he remembers anyway.
When he thinks about the way he met Gojo who too conveniently saved him from the Zen’in clan in exchange for becoming his student, it’s hard for him to let his trust flow purely even after all this time; even when Gojo took it upon himself to do Megumi favors like putting Itadori's room right next door (another thing Megumi didn't appreciate).
Megumi blames his long-seated resentment for the reason his heart starts to work overtime the day you present friendship bracelets to everyone. They’re fancy; many steps above the cheap kind that you’d find at some discount convenience store with plastic alphabets and random beads and symbols. He assumes a couple of the pieces might be real.
Kugisaki’s is green, shining on her wrist like emeralds. Megumi thinks it suits someone like Kugisaki, who would undoubtedly love to be covered in jewels. Itadori has a similar one, rotating with a pattern of red and opaque white pieces.
Standing in that hall, drowning out the conversation between Kugisaki and Itadori about who has the prettier bracelet, Megumi realizes he’s next.
It starts when you step in front of him; there’s a cautious tone to your voice when you say his name because you already know: attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.
It's with a roll of anxiousness, the one that always comes with the mystery of whether his exchange with someone will be positive or negative and the skeptic thought in his head that reminds him most people always want something in return, that makes him throw up a wall.
“These probably aren’t your thing but I made one for you too,” you preface. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t really sure what to put on it so I made some guesses.”
You’re right. Friendship bracelets aren’t his thing; needing a token like a bracelet to prove your relationship to someone is asinine. It’s against what is supposed to make a friendship special. Strong friendships should need no words, right?
Most importantly, he doesn’t need it, and there’s no reason for you to give him one.
“You keep it,” he starts. However, it’s already too late as you grab his arm and slide the trinket over his hand.
“I don’t—” he starts again; there’s a bit of surprise in the way you look at him, the way everyone stops and looks at him actually. This quickly becomes one of those times where it’d be easier to go with the flow than to fight the current. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “Only because you already made it,” he explains more fully, stifling the embarrassment that wants to bubble from his chest with so much attention.
Like before, he finds himself too focused on watching you, the way your eyes soften from surprise and rejection to shining stars. He thinks this must be how the protagonists in those books feel when heat creeps up their neck. Those books also left him sorely unprepared that it would go past neck to his face and ears.
He breaks away from the situation, finding a way to retreat into the background to shield himself from the gooey feeling permeating the air. He drops his gaze to his arm, focusing on the bracelet with his name accompanied by a repetition of blue and silver, connecting the two—four—of you together.
Megumi fixes his sleeve over the bracelet, but he can’t hide how painfully aware he is of the charms rolling against his skin.
It was both a pleasant feeling and completely alien.
It broke.
Megumi was a bit reckless against a low-level curse, and it broke. He didn’t even realize it until after the battle was over and one of the silver charms were rolling under his foot.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was bound to happen eventually considering this line of work. Yet, he still picked up the few pieces he could separate from the gravel, and the entire ride home his wrist feels unreasonably bare.
Thinking about how he messed up makes him annoyed at himself, especially when he wonders what you’d think if you noticed he wasn’t wearing it. You’d probably think he tossed it somewhere; that he didn’t like it. He liked it. The same way he likes to listen to you talk on car rides home after missions or when you ask him to hang out with you and the others or when you read all the books he recommends with the protagonists that are quickly becoming too relatable with every skipped heartbeat and tongue-tied word. He’s frustrated to acknowledge why that’s the case.
It’s only been three months since the start of the school year, he thinks. It took only three months for his thoughts to start drifting to his classmates, with you almost always center stage in them.
When he arrives back at the school, he finds your room and knocks on your door. He shows you what little remains of the gift you gave him, as if he needs to immediately absolve himself of any wrongdoing.
“Do you want me to make you another one?” you ask cautiously.
Megumi can guess why you’re hesitant considering he only accepted your gift because of peer pressure. He still believes gifts like this are silly and unnecessary.
But…
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
He wants it.
So, he goes into your room where he watches you begin the process of making him another bracelet. You ask him which accessories he would prefer, and like always he doesn’t have much preference other than what you think is best. As long as it isn’t too silly, of course.
He gives his undivided attention to how your fingertips pour over your work kit and the many square boxes filled with different miniature shapes before you carefully pick out one with a little dog face.
“I think this one is good,” you whisper to yourself before continuing your search for another complementing bead.
You smile as you work. It’s nice. Cute even as you bite down on your lip in concentration; and right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with that information other than note the way it makes his palms feel clammy especially when he notices your eyes lift back up to his.
Megumi notices a lot about you actually. He notices how you always go out your way to get his, well, everyone’s opinion on everything. He notices that whenever you share your snacks with everyone that you always save ginger for him. He notices how your gaze lingers on him when you ask if everyone is in one piece after difficult missions. He also notices how your finger stops over a silver square, one with a little black heart carved in each side. He wonders, perhaps too hopefully, if the charm is just one you think he’d like or if it means more than that.
“Why do you always keep trying to talk to me?” he asks, fighting the urge to beg you to stop getting stuck in his mind so much.
Your head snaps up from what you’re doing.
“What do you mean? We’re teammates,” you answer simply.
“Aren’t missions enough? We don’t need to interact aside from that.”
You pinch your eyebrows at him, and there’s a frown on your face. “Sure we do.”
“There’s no reason.”
It’s not like he ever saved your life, not like Itadori. It’s not like he has a somewhat familial relationship with you, like Gojo. You’re not his sibling or his parent; he’s not the friendlist either so there’s no reason to try to get closer any more than necessary, and there’s no reason for him to be feeling so nervous right now.
“How about because I like talking to you? I think you’re pretty funny, and you’re a kind person.” You shake your head, laughing. “I don’t know. I just like being friends with you.”
Megumi doesn’t know what he was expecting. Some deep explanation why you keep trying to get close to him? Some selfish excuse from you that he could use to warrant pushing you away. A reason to justify why he likes you so much? A reason to hope you like him just as much?
Maybe.
There doesn’t need to be some special reason for you wanting to be his friend, which means he doesn’t really need a reason either.
“I see.”
“Finished,” you say, holding out his newly made bracelet to him. “I poured some of my cursed energy into it, so it won’t break so easily next time.”
Megumi feels calm once again when he feels the weight and roll of the beads on his skin again; the aura of your curse energy humming through it makes the connection back to you much more noticeable.
“What about me?” you ask, drawing his attention. “Do you like being friends with me?”
Megumi can’t answer that, not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because he feels like his tongue weighs more than lead as you lean closer into him.
His eyes find your lips, soft and parted. This is the first time he’s gotten the urge to kiss someone. It makes his stomach whirlwind, and he quickly finds a way to answer you without having to look at you as he picks at one of the charms.
“Can I make you one?”
The next morning, Megumi decides to go out with you and the others for breakfast, which in hindsight was a mistake as Itadori points out the new accesory you’re wearing on your wrist.
“Hey, you got one too now.”
You smile, holding it up proudly. “Megumi made it for me!”
“Megumi?!” Itadori blurts out.
“Made it for you?” Nobara asks with raised eyebrows and a hand on her hip.
“He did a really good job.”
It’s like the time before when you first gave them their gifts, and everyone is looking at him again. “I didn’t do anything special; a monkey could do it,” he mumbles out.
Itadori is the first to crack a laugh followed by Kugisaki. Then, the two of them start muttering and teasing him in unison.
“He’s so modest,” Itadori points out.
“Loverboy,” Kugisaki whispers.
“Can we call you Megumi too?” Itadori asks.
Megumi doesn’t have the patience to consider whether the other boy is being genuine or not as he grits his teeth and growls out a quick “shut up” before konking Itadori on the head to prove his point. It’s enough to make them leave him alone for now as Itadori accidentally trips into Kugisaki from the force.
“That was completely unnecessary, Fushiguro,” Kugisaki grumbles as she pushes Itadori off and stands back to her feet.
Megumi sighs.
This is why he doesn’t want friends.
“Did you just sigh at me!”
“If that’s what you heard,” he tells her.
“You better sleep with both eyes open!”
“I’ll be sure to do that.”
Yet if it’s those two then he guesses having friends isn’t completely unbareable.
Suddenly, Megumi loses focus at the timbre of your laugh.
“You guys are starting early today.”
You’re still laughing at them, harder now actually, and it’s precious. He throws his gaze to the wall as if he’s ignoring Kugisaki and not trying to hide the heat blooming on his cheeks when you glance at him, making him aware that he’s the reason for your laughter.
Megumi shoves his hands in his pockets and rolls his thumb over the bracelet and the heart you left behind there.
Friendship is something he’s coming around to. Having a crush for the first time, well, he still needs work on figuring that out.
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Eight Strategies for Improving Dialogue in Your Writing
Well, hi! Oh my… wow! It’s been a long time since I’ve posted! I’ve been very busy and I am genuinely sorry to all my followers, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about this account, but here is one final post for the year!
Hopefully next year I become consistent with it again!
Let’s begin!
One of the best ways to help a reader connect with your writing is by crafting excellent dialogue. Use these tips to learn how to write dialogue that showcases character development, defines your characters’ voices, and hooks readers.
Why Use Dialogue?
Good dialogue performs all sorts of functions in fiction writing. It defines your characters’ voices, establishes their speech patterns, exposes the inner emotions, and showcases their character development. Beyond mere characterization, effective dialogue can also establish the setting and time period of your story and reveal information in a way that doesn’t feel overly expository.
Authors use lines of dialogue to reveal a character’s personality and express their point of view. For instance, an archetypal football coach might speak in short, terse sentences peppered with exclamation points and quotations from famous war generals. By contrast, a nebbish lover with a broken heart might drone on endlessly to his therapist or best friend, speaking in run-on sentences that circle around his true motivations. When an author can reveal character traits through dialogue, it cuts down on exposition and makes a story flow briskly.
Eight Writing Tips for Improving Dialogue
The first time you write dialogue, you may find it quite difficult to replicate the patterns of normal speech. This can be compounded by the concurrent challenges of finding your own voice and telling a great story overall. Even bestselling authors can get stuck on how a particular character says a particular line of dialogue. With practice and hard work, however, lackluster dialogue can be elevated to great dialogue.
Here are some strategies for improving the dialogue in your own work:
Mimic the voices of people in your own life. Perhaps you’ve created a physician character with the same vocal inflections as your mother. Perhaps your hero soldier talks just like your old volleyball coach. If you want to ensure that your dialogue sounds the way real people speak, there’s no better resource than the real life people in your everyday world.
Mix dialogue with narration. Long runs of dialogue can dislodge a reader from the action of a scene. As your characters talk, interpolate some descriptions of their physical postures or other activity taking place in the room. This mimics the real-world experience of listening to someone speaking while simultaneously taking in visual and olfactory stimuli.
Give your main character a secret. Sometimes a line of dialogue is most notable for what it withholds. Even if your audience doesn’t realize it, you can build dynamic three-dimensionality by having your character withhold a key bit of information from their speech. For instance, you may draft a scene in which a museum curator speaks to an artist about how she wants her work displayed—but what the curator isn’t saying out loud is that she’s in love with the artist. You can use that secret to embed layers of tension into the character’s spoken phrases.
Use a layperson character to clarify technical language. When you need dialogue to convey technical information in approachable terms, split the conversation between two people. Have one character be an expert and one character be uninformed. The expert character can speak at a technical level, and the uninformed one can stop them, asking questions for clarification. Your readers will appreciate it.
Use authentic shorthand. Does your character call a gun a “piece” or a “Glock”? Whatever it is, be authentic and consistent in how your characters speak. If they all sound the same, your dialogue needs another pass.
Look to great examples of dialogue for inspiration. If you're looking for a dialogue example in the realm of novels or short stories, consider reading the great books written by Mark Twain, Judy Blume, or Toni Morrison. Within the world of screenwriting, Aaron Sorkin is renowned for his use of dialogue.
Ensure that you’re punctuating your dialogue properly. Remember that question marks and exclamation points go inside quotation marks. Enclose dialogue in double quotation marks and use single quotation marks when a character quotes another character within their dialogue. Knowing how to punctuate dialogue properly can ensure that your reader stays immersed in the story.
Use dialogue tags that are evocative. Repeating the word “said” over and over can make for dull writing and miss out on opportunities for added expressiveness. Consider replacing the word “said” with a more descriptive verb.
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Blood Moon
🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “You know,” Cheol’s lips are feverish against your skin, and he kisses from your collarbone to your breasts, his hot breath driving you wild, “in some cultures, the blood moon is a sign that the moon needs to be worshiped.” His hand moves between your legs, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties while he lets out another groan of need. “Werewolves worship the moon,” he continues. “It’s what makes us who we are, but after I met you…” his other hand tears the front of your dress down, and his teeth graze by your nipple, “let’s just say, you’re all that matters to me now. And I’m going to worship you as if you were the moon.”
tw/cw. blood/claim biting, a/b/o, alpha cheol, big dick cheol, pussy worship, pussy eating, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, sex where his pack can hear it, praise, multiple positions, breeding kink, size kink, overstim, slight dacryphilia, sex on a car & the ground & under the blood moon, wet pussy kink, knotting, rough sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) alpha.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5k
🍭 aus.a/b/o, alpha!Cheol, omega!reader, jealousy, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. when I tell you I need this man to ruin me
Seungcheol’s never been the type of alpha to question his subordinates, but on blood moons, his control goes out the window. When he’d announced during the formation of his pack that he’d be taking on two lesser alphas, and their preexisting betas, some elder wolves had called him crazy. They’d said it was just a matter of time till Jihoon or Soonyoung made an act to overthrow him, but in the eight years since then, Seungcheol’s never truly had any cause to suspect insurrection of any sort.
However this year, things are different. This year, he’s made another risky move that’s been questioned by wolves in and outside of his own pack.
This year, he’d fallen for a human, someone outside any of the strong wolf bloodlines, and he’d taken you as his own. His bite had transformed you into the beta you are now, and he can tell, as you approach him with eyes following your every move, that some of his pack members are still not very happy about it.
Soonyoung, in particular, makes no move to hide his gaze. He looks you up and down, and Seungcheol can even see a flash of his tongue darting out to wet his lips, a hungry spark in his eyes.
“You look upset,” you note, finally making it to your alpha’s side by the bonfire, its flames licking the night sky and casting pretty shadows across your features.
“Is it that obvious?” Seungcheol groans, wrapping an arm around your body while he adjusts the red solo cup in his hand.
“You always wear your heart on your sleeve, Cheol,” you muse, leaning closer to him. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
The alpha lets out a sigh, giving one last warning look to Soonyoung before his gaze dips to focus on you. “Can I tell you something about blood moons?”
“Please,” you nod. “I'd love to hear more, especially from you.”
He’s always enjoyed how eager you are to learn about the ways of the wolves, it’s one of the things that had drawn him to you, and he loves teaching you his culture even more.
“Ancient peoples believed the blood moon was a sort of omen, something that predicted the death or overthrow of a king.”
“I see,” you smile, leaning up to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. “You’re worried someone might have a stupid idea tonight about taking you on as alpha.”
“Others thought that blood moons were a time to explore your dark side. To dive deeper into hidden emotions like rage,” he explains further. “I think we both know that some members of my pack are still harbouring a grudge against me for my actions this year.”
“They’ll get over it,” you assure him. “And if they don’t, what’s anyone going to do about it? No one here can best you, they’d be stupid to try.”
Seungcheol knows that. Aside from being a force to be reckoned with all by himself, Seungcheol’s inner circle includes Mingyu, one of the biggest wolves he’s ever seen. Even if Soonyoung was to pick a fight with Seungcheol, backed up by Minghao, Dino and Jun, they’d never be able to overtake both him and Mingyu.
Regardless of these facts, your calming words do nothing on his restless mind. Blood moons have always been a time of heightened emotional energy, especially for the wolves so connected to the lunar force.
Instead of saying anything else, Cheol simply pulls you closer, hoping that your presence in his arms is enough to stop him from doing anything rash.
When you realize Seungcheol’s cup is empty, you break away from his side, giving the alpha a kiss that lingers before you head off to get more liquor. You’ve been feeling how tense your mate is all night, and you hope that another drink might soothe what you’re unable to.
As you walk up the beach, you notice the sound of someone following you. While you’re still getting used to heightened wolf senses, you’re conscious enough to note that the footfalls are lighter than your lumbering alphas, and you don’t dare look behind you to check who your new shadow is.
You’re safe enough on this beach with the pack around you, and despite Seungcheol’s obvious agitation and paranoia, you’d meant it when you’d told him people would be stupid to try anything tonight.
When you reach the camping table housing all the booze, you move calmly, reaching for the aged bottle of bourbon that Seungcheol loves. Your shadow takes the opportunity to make himself known, stepping next to you and reaching for his own can of beer.
“You look good tonight,” Soonyoung says, opening his drink and turning to look at you.
“Thank you,” you smile, trying to be respectful to the alpha. “I know it’s a blood moon, but it still felt fitting to wear white, besides, Seungcheol loves this dress.”
“I can see why.” Soonyoung’s eyes move down and then back up, focusing on your breasts for a few seconds while you continue to prepare your mate’s bourbon. “You know, when we heard Cheol had found himself a human to dote on, lots of us wondered why he didn’t just go for some juicy omega. But, seeing you tonight, I can see you might be even tastier than the other girls that used to fawn over him.”
You take a breath, screwing the lid back onto the bottle of bourbon before setting it down and turning to look at Soonyoung. You know he’s trying to get a rise out of you, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.
“Do you have something else to say to me, Soonyoung?”
“Just that…” he licks his lips, leaning closer to you. “I know you don’t come from our world, so it’s not like you had your pick of alphas, and I just figured, maybe there might be a better match for you than him.”
“A better match,” you repeat his words. “Like you?”
Soonyoung shrugs, flashing a grin. “You’d never know till you give me a chance to prove myself.”
“All things considered, I think you’re pretty lucky I was born human.”
“Really?” His grin widens. “And why’s that, gorgeous?”
“Because if I was an omega, I’d run off and tell Cheol about this and he’d kill you tonight.”
The smirk drops from Soonyoung’s face, and he stares you down. “Cheol wouldn’t choose you over me.”
You sigh. “If you’re willing to bet your life on that, I can always go ask him right now.” Soonyoung stays quiet and you nod. “That’s what I thought. I’d say it’s been nice talking with you, but we both know that would be a lie. Have a good night, Soonyoung.”
You pick up your drink and walk away.
This time, the alpha doesn’t follow.
No matter how safe you feel amongst the pack, it’s still something of a relief when you make it to Seungcheol’s side again.
He looks at you with concern, taking the cup from your hands so he can wrap a protective arm around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “You were gone a while,” he notes. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod. It’s a small white lie, but you truly believe Seungcheol would tear Soonyoung in two if you tell him what just took place, so you avoid disclosure. What Seungcheol doesn’t know can’t hurt him… or Soonyoung. “I was just thinking…” you continue, tracing a finger up the front of your mate’s black v-neck, “I know I’m not generally someone who’s too fond of public displays of aggression and ownership, but… if there was ever a night to prove I belong to you, it would be tonight.”
Seungcheol blinks at you, swallowing thickly while he considers your proposition. His gaze dips to where your breasts are pressed against his chest, and you can feel his cock beginning to harden where it’s trapped in his pants between your bodies. “So you want me to take you right here?” he asks. “On the beach? In front of everyone?”
“Cheol,” you laugh, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “that’s a bit much. I was thinking… we could go to the parking lot where your car is. It’s close enough that people will be able to hear, but far enough that I’d still be comfortable. After all, if I’m yours and only yours, my body should be for your eyes only.”
“I’m not sure where this came from,” Seungcheol admits. “But you know I could never say no to you. Let’s get out of here, princess, because if we don’t, I am going to fuck you on this beach where everyone can see.”
You tug out of his embrace, flashing him a mischievous smile. “Okay alpha, then you better chase me.”
You turn on your heel in the sand, bolting towards the grassy parking lot while other members of his pack watch you. It feels like freedom to be running through the cool night air under the blood moon, and you can hear your alpha’s footfalls as he chases you.
He could catch you in a second, you both know that, but he’s purposefully moving slower than you, letting you be exhilarated by the idea of a chase. You know it turns him on as much as you, and you giggle to yourself at the naughtiness of it all.
Cheol has always brought out your wild side, even when you were human, and now, you get to revel in the primal attraction, the push and pull with the alpha that’s shown you the world, and now, the blood moon.
You marvel at the new strength of your body, the way you can make it to the parking lot, which is a couple hundred meters down the beach, without even being very winded.
The moment you reach the vehicle, Seungcheol’s hot body is pressing against your back, boxing you against his large, black truck with both hands on either side of you. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he groans, rubbing his cock against your ass.
“I could say the same about you,” you gasp, turning so you can face him. “My big sexy alpha-”
He’s kissing you the moment the words leave you, and you tangle your hands through his dark hair tugging him closer while his mouth works against your own. He tastes like bourbon, and something about it turns you on even more. Your mate’s teeth drag across your lower lip and you let out a groan, lifting your thigh to wrap around his waist.
“Cheol,” you whimper, taking a breather as he moves his mouth to your neck, finding your sweet spot and making you moan again. “I need you-”
With a growl, the alpha picks you up, fingers digging into your ass as he moves around to the back of his truck. You begin to kiss his throat as he gets the front panel open, and then he hoists you up to rest you on it.
His hands find your thighs, pushing your white dress up and grabbing at your flesh.
“Just fuck me-” you plead, knowing your panties are already soaked. Cheol just does things to you, and you wish he’d do more.
“You know,” Cheol’s lips are feverish against your skin, and he kisses from your collar bone to your breasts, his hot breath driving you wild, “in some cultures, the blood moon is a sign that the moon needs to be worshiped.”
His hand moves between your legs, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties while he lets out another groan of need.
“Werewolves worship the moon,” he continues. “It’s what makes us who we are, but after I met you…” his other hand tears the front of your dress down, and his teeth graze by your nipple, “let’s just say, you’re all that matters to me now. And I’m going to worship you as if you were the moon.”
“Fuck, alpha-” you whimper, throwing your head back while he begins to suck on your nipple, applying more pressure to your clit with the hands you adore so much.
“That’s right,” Cheol growls, “I’m your alpha. Your only alpha. And I’m going to take care of you, like you deserve.”
“Please, I need it-”
“You need it?” His hair brushes by your chest, and then he pulls back just enough to look up at you, pushing your panties to the side so two of his large fingers can slip into your soaked core. “Tell me what you need, princess, alpha will give it to you.”
“You know what I need,” you whine.
“I want to hear you say it.”
You let out a sound of frustration, tangling your hands in Seungcheol’s hair. Then you push his head down, and your mate begins to laugh at you, his fingers picking up speed as they work to open your core.
“I said use your words,” he tuts, “not push me around.”
“I need you to worship me,” you tell him, “the way only you can.”
“That’s more like it,” he hums, satisfied as his hot kisses begin to move down your body.
He pulls his fingers out of your pussy and you whine loudly at the loss, but he needs his hands to push your dress up. He uses his teeth to tear your panties down, and you whimper at the feeling of him, watching him while unmatched lust burns through you.
“I’m going to keep these for myself,” he says, pocketing your panties before he spreads your legs, forcing you to fall backward against the bed of his truck, your elbows cushioning your fall and propping you up.
“Alpha,” you moan, a shiver running through you when he begins to kiss your thigh, working closer and closer to where you need him most.
“Fuck,” he groans, placing a kiss on your pussy that has you squealing with delight. “I love the sounds you make.” Your mate looks up at you with dark, dilated pupils. “You really do want everyone to hear this, don’t you, princess?”
The thought excites you more than it ever has before, and Seungcheol grins while watching you. “That’s what I thought. Who’s my dirty girl?”
“I am,” you gasp when his thumb comes up to play with your clit.
“You’re dripping, princess,” Cheol notes. “Just the way I like it.”
He’s forcing his head between your thighs a moment later, tongue lapping the length of your pussy and making you cry out into the night air. Your hands fly down to grab onto his hair, and your alpha growls, the vibration running through your clit and causing you to pant while his tongue invades your wet hole.
“Oh my god-” you whimper, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get more-
His palm lands on your lower abdomen and he forces you down. It’s crazy how much strength he has in just one hand, and you find yourself completely pinned to the bed of his truck while he eats you out like he’s a starving man.
The sounds coming from between your legs are absolutely lewd, not only can you hear your soaked pussy and his wet tongue, but he’s moaning loudly, thoroughly enjoying working you up the way only he knows how.
“Alpha,” you whimper desperately, already aching from how close you are.
Cheol lets out another groan, the vibrations making your legs twitch as you teeter on the edge of pleasure. “I’m gonna cum-” you gasp, tightening your grip on his hair so he can’t pull away.
But Seungcheol has no intention of pulling away. In fact, he presses his face even deeper into your pussy, lapping at you and licking- then his lips suction around your clit and you’re a complete gonner.
A scream leaves your mouth, your eyes clenching shut as your orgasm overtakes you.
Seungcheol has given you great orgasms before, mind altering, earth shattering orgasms- but nothing has ever been like this. Your brain goes completely blank as the feeling of absolute ecstasy overwhelms your body, bringing tears to your eyes while he continues to worship your core with an expert tongue.
“Alpha,” you whimper, overstimulated by his mouth alone.
Cheol finally lets up, pulling away from your pussy and taking a deep breath. You can feel him exhale against you, and it causes you to twitch from stimulation. You go to close your legs while Seungcheol straightens and looks down at you, but his hands are quick to pry them open.
“You think I’m done with you?” he laughs. “Nice try princess, but I’m not anywhere near being done yet.”
His thumb finds your clit again and your whole body jolts at the contact, your thighs threatening to close-
Seungcheol pushes them open again, letting out a growl. “You better keep these legs wide for me, princess, and take what your alpha is giving you.”
You mewl in response, whimpering when two of his digits enter your core again. “I had you on my tongue, and now I’m going to give you my fingers before I split you open with my cock. How does that sound?”
“Like heaven,” you whisper, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his large fingers moving in and out of you slowly.
“That’s my girl,” Seungcheol grins, eyes focusing between your legs. “You have no fucking clue how sexy you are.”
You groan at the praise. You’ve always loved how Seungcheol takes his time with you, verbalizing his attraction and always making you feel like the only girl in the entire universe.
When you’d been a part of the human world, you’d heard stories about alpha wolves with harems of girls, omegas, that are even shared amongst packs. Cheol had changed your entire perception of his kind, and he’d even talked you into joining him, although… it hadn’t taken much persuasion on his part.
“Look at you, clenching on my fingers when I talk nice,” Cheol lets out a laugh. “You really are my little praise princess, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yes, alpha,” you nod, moaning as his fingers pick up their pace inside of you.
“I want to watch you cum again,” he tells you. “I love watching you lose control.”
“Then make me cum,” you whisper. “Make me scream.”
Seungcheol grins. “You’ve got it, princess.”
He strokes his fingers up, finding the spot inside of you that always makes your toes curl. His other hand finds your lower abdomen, pinning you down, and you know exactly what he’s going to do next.
Your alpha mate has always had a thing for making your pussy soaked, and he’s an expert at getting you there with his fingers. No man has ever made you squirt like Seungcheol has, and no man ever will again.
“Alpha,” you whimper as his digits begin to apply more pressure to your g-spot, and you grab at the strong forearm of the hand pinned to your abdomen, needing an anchor, any anchor, so you don’t simply fly away off the bed of his truck to float through cloud nine.
“That’s it,” Seungcheol groans. “Listen to how wet your pretty pussy is.”
You love how you can hear yourself, love how you can already feel wetness between your legs as Seungcheol’s fingers work their magic. You’re a moaning mess now, and when your mate commands, “rub your clit for me,” you can hardly refuse.
Your shaky digits find your most sensitive spot, and now you can feel even more fluid gushing out of you as pleasure erupts through your form.
“Just like that, pretty girl,” Seungcheol praises you. “You’re always so fucking good for me.”
Squirting isn’t like regular orgasms, it’s a slow pressure in the pit of your stomach that builds as his fingers continue roughly inside of you, until you’re twitching and gasping and crying out. You can’t carry on with your clit, all you can do is grab at Cheol’s forearm again, taking what he gives you until he’s satisfied.
“Look at you fucking cum,” Seungcheol groans, watching you writhe on the bed of his truck while you gush around his fingers.
You’re crying again, and you can feel wet hot tears rolling down your cheeks, but you’d never tell him to stop. Not when you know you’ll be rewarded as soon as he’s had enough, as soon as he loses his own control and has to fuck you.
“Shit, princess,” Seungcheol growls, pulling his digits out of your core. “My turn.”
He grabs you with both hands, and you can feel your wetness on your skin from the fingers that had just been inside of you. In one rough motion, he pulls you off the bed of the truck, and a small scream or surprise escapes you.
Your legs feel like jelly, but your mate is quick to turn you around, forcing your upper body to lay over the front panel and bed of his truck. You hear the clink of his belt as he undoes it with expert fingers, and then he lifts up your dress. In one solid motion, he slides his whole cock into you, taking your breath away as you gasp and claw your hands against the cool metal truck frame.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Seungcheol groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds still for a moment, letting you feel his massive cock stretching you out. “So wet and perfect.”
At this point, you can hardly think, let alone respond with words. The most you can do is moan loudly, pushing your ass back in an attempt to get him deeper-
“That’s right, princess,” the alpha laughs. “You’re so desperate to be fucked, aren’t you?”
“Yes, alpha-”
“Then I guess I better deliver.” He pulls almost all the way out of you before slamming back in, his hips making an audible slap against your ass while your whine of pleasure rings through the night.
“Alpha?” you whimper, a dirty, sinful, wonderful thought popping into your mind.
“Yes, princess?” He ruts into you harder, finding a brutal pace that has the entire truck rocking with each powerful thrust.
“Do you-” you choke back a moan, “Do you think… if you bred me during a blood moon… do you think it would make our pups strong alphas like you?”
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans loudly, fingers digging harder against your hips as his motions get even wilder. “You want me to breed you, princess?”
“God, yes!” you cry, pussy fluttering at the mere idea of it.
Your mate lets out a growl, fucking you so hard and deep you can feel him everywhere. He’s all consuming. You’ve practically forgotten that he’s fucking you on a car with his pack so closeby- all that matters is him right now, and what he can give you.
“Want me to fill you up until you’re practically bursting with my cum?”
“Yes, alpha-” you moan desperately, closing your eyes as you press your cheek against the cool metal truck bed.
“Want me to knot you? Spread you open so you’re ruined for anyone else?”
You’re already ruined for anyone else, and you both know it. Although you’ve been with Seungcheol for five months, you’ve never helped him through a rut, as having babies has never been something either of you particularly wanted-
But now? Now you want him, you want his knot. You want it so desperately you feel the need from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes.
“God, yes, please- make me yours forever,” you cry. “I’m yours alpha, forever yours-”
“Fuck, princess,” Seungcheol groans. “I need to see you.”
He pulls his cock from your aching core and you whine at the loss, only for him to grab you and throw you on the grassy ground next to the truck. He’s never been this rough before, and you’re slightly winded, but then he’s on top of you, sliding back into your core while his lips find yours.
You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders and your legs around his hips, anchoring him to you while he fucks you into the ground.
You don’t care about the grass, or even the bits of sand you feel against your back. You’re so completely focused on Cheol-
“I’m going to mark you again,” Seungcheol tells you, voice low as his lips move to your neck.
The first time he’d bitten you, claimed you as his own, and turned you into a wolf like him, it had been a euphoric sensation, and your toes curl in anticipation. He’d marked you on your left side, but tonight, he goes for the right, and you realize he’s intent on there being no mistake who you belong to. That you’re taken.
“Fuck, you want me to bite you, don’t you, princess?” He groans, breath hot against your skin. “You’re squeezing me like a fucking vice-”
“Alpha, please-” you whimper, needing him more than you’ve ever needed anything in your entire life.
You don’t have to beg again, because you feel his sharp teeth grazing your throat a moment later. You hold tightly onto his broad shoulders, bracing yourself for the pleasured pain that shoots through you as he digs his fangs into your flesh.
“Alpha-” you cry desperately, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he bites deeper, ensuring a scar that will last a lifetime.
You can feel the base of his cock swelling inside of you, and the feeling is foreign, wonderful. It’s a new kind of stretch, and it leaves you gasping, opening your eyes to look up at the blood moon.
This is right. You know that.
“Alpha, I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, holding him tightly as your orgasm builds and builds, spurred on by the teeth still digging into your skin. It’s a perfect kind of pain, a pain only he can provide, and it leaves you breathless as you tip over the edge.
Your aching core clamps down on Seungcheol’s length, and you cry out at the feeling of his knot now fully grown inside of you-
Your mate lets out a growl, and a moment later you feel his cum coating your insides, filling you up like you’ve never been filled before. He can hardly thrust anymore, his knot too big to move inside of you, but you don’t mind. You think if he fucks you any longer, you might truly pass out from the pleasure.
Seungcheol releases your throat, pulling back to look down at you. You can see your blood on his mouth. When you’d been human, blood had been something scary, something dirty, but now that you’re a wolf, it’s inviting, and you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to your own.
He groans, tongue dancing across yours while the metallic taste of your own blood washes over you.
With him buried balls deep in your pussy in the grass next to his truck with his pack nearby, his knot keeping him locked inside of you, and the taste of your own blood on his tongue- you think this might be the dirtiest, most sinful thing the two of you have ever done, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
There’s no shame, only acceptance, and an understanding in the back of your mind that you’ve reached your most primal peak. That this is how things are meant to be for wolves, and you are now truly a part of that.
You feel certain that after tonight, no one will ever question you as his mate again, and the thought fills you with an indescribable warmth.
“Cheol,” you whisper, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. “I love you, so, so much.”
Your mate laughs softly, pushing some hair out of your face while he looks down at you. “I love you too, princess. More than you can even imagine.”
The two of you catch your breath, holding each other close like the young lovers you are, and you slowly feel the knot inside of you begin to die down.
When Cheol is finally able to pull out of you, he sits up on his knees, tucking his cock back into his jeans before running a hand through his hair.
He’s silhouetted against the night sky and the moon, and you think it’s possible he’s never been sexier.
“As much as I want to keep these panties,” he says, pulling them out of his pocket, “I also want to make sure my cum stays in you longer. You don’t mind if I put these back on you, do you, princess?”
You shake your head, smiling at him as he gently lifts your foot, then the other, pressing a kiss to your calf as he slides your panties back on.
“I bit you pretty bad,” your mate confesses. “Let me get you up, get you seated on my truck, and I’ll grab the first aid kid to bandage your neck.”
There’s not one word of protest from you, and you marvel at how easy it is for him to lift you off the ground, setting you on the front panel.
“Wait here,” he says softly, giving you one last chaste kiss before he heads to fumble in the front cabin. He comes back a minute later holding a red first aid kit, and you watch him in a daze as he gets out the gauze and bandages.
“You might be a beta,” Seungcheol tells you, as he begins to gently wrap your neck, “but you have the sex drive of an omega, don’t you, princess?”
“Only for you, alpha.” You flash him a dopey smile, completely brain-dead after the best sex of your life. “Only for you.”
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Alpha cheol has me in an entire brain rot- I'll never be the same after him - Mingyu now has a part in this series too, read more about the Blood Moon pack here
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🔮 preview. Seungcheol releases your hip, and he reaches down to grab your torso, wrapping one hand around your breast as he hauls you to your knees, your back now pressed firmly to his chest. “Look around,” he says in your ear, and you force your lids open to gaze out at the dark treeline. You notice multiple eyes staring back at you, lit by the reflection of the moon. You can’t see which members of the pack are watching, can’t make out any faces, but your pussy throbs knowing they’re all focused on you. Seungcheol’s free hand slips down to rub at your clit, and you whimper, wiggling in his grasp. He holds you tighter against his strong torso, licking your throat. “I can’t believe how much this turns you on. Filthy little princess.”
cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, fucking outside in a field, voyeurism, his pack watching you get fucked, blow job, deep throating, hand job, unprotected sex, dirty talk, overstim, multiple positions/orgasms, praise, semi public nudity, possessive cheol, size kink, big dick cheol, breast worship, sex marks, choking/neck grabbing, rough sex, primal doggy style, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) alpha.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 300
🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!reader
bonus
Seungcheol wakes up as the sunlight begins to creep through the blinds and illuminate your room. He lets out a groan, instinctively reaching out to grab you, pulling you tight to his body.
“Morning, alpha,” you whisper, fingers threading through his hair and massaging his scalp.
He’d woken up with a stiffie, and the feeling of your hands has him releasing a moan of pleasure, his cock throbbing in the confines of his breifs.
He takes a deep breath, wanting to be engulfed by you, by your scent-
And that’s when he notices a sweeter note to your usual smell.
His eyes open, and he blinks at you, the fogginess of sleep slowly dissipating as he gets his bearings.
“What?” you question, having picked up on the shift in his energy. “Is something wrong?”
“You just-” he swallows thickly, “you smell so good.”
“Really?”
“More than normal,” he confirms, sitting up suddenly to look at you. His eyes take in your body, and he moves the covers to get a better view of your form. His fingers reach out to trace your skin, smoothing over your collarbone and down to your breasts. When he reaches your belly button, he circles it, and you let out a giggle.
Seungcheol can’t help but smile, gaze flashing to meet yours. He has his suspicions about why your scent may have changed, he’s heard stories about this, but he’s never experienced it for himself-
“I think the blood moon blessed us, princess.”
“Hmm?” Your brows furrow in confusion, and you reach down to guide his hand lower-
His fingers find your core through your panties, and he lets out a groan at how wet you already are. As he moves lower, shimmying down the bed to get between your thighs, the smell grows, confirming his suspicions.
“You’re pregnant,” he says softly. “I can smell it on you.”
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#seungcheol#choi seungcheol#svthub#seungcheol smut#choi seungcheol smut#s.coups#s.coups smut#a/b/o svt#svt#svt smut#seventeen smut#werewolf seungcheol#alpha seungcheol#a/b/o seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#s.coups x reader#a/b/o seventeen#svt s.coups#werewolf svt
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I can just imagine the first time König meets his darling goes a little like; he steps on one of her flowers and out of nowhere this woman appears and starts giving him the dressing down of his life for being "such a clumsy, unobservant oaf," but the whole time he's just starting at her with heart eyes.
She could also keep the name Bee, because she's buzzing about the flowers all day. Though, perhaps she's a bit more like a hornet with that fiery personality she has.
Yeah that's pretty much how it happens.
König has never cared much for plants, he walks through the garden with advisors in tow, grumbling and growling until he finally rounds on them to leave him the hell alone for two goddamn minutes. Christ he didn't become king so he could deal with all this mundanity, he became king because his father was weak and the kingdom was going to shit. Corruption was a hydra, each head he chopped off just sprouted three more. He needed people he could trust, not power hungry nobles that only sought to elevate their own status by joining his cabinet. He may have to look outside the kingdom for that.
König stops at the edge of a wide flower bed, well tended, but in his way. The garden is full of winding paths, ones meant to draw people in to the scenery and inspire admiration in whatever flora is blooming. As previously stated, König has never cared much for plants. He steps off the path and into the bed, not so carefully trampling over the blooms and delicate stems that live there. He's king, these are his gardens, he can destroy what he wishes. Actually it's sort of nice to destroy something after a long day of signing laws and reviewing tax nonsense. He steps more purposefully onto a rose bush, eyes wide and pleased at the way the thorns drag against his clothes and attempt to prick him. Good, he hopes they draw a little blood for the trouble it's causing to walk through them. He even hears them yelp.
Oh no, that was a human. He stops grinding his boot into the woody stems and glances back at you. You look horrified. You look mad. Oh you look mad. He feels the emotion sink down his spin like warm honey, your eyes are furious as you pick your way through the trampled flowers. Actually you stop and gasp in horror at one of the bushes he'd destroyed crouching to fret over the stems and cup the delicate petals. König takes that as his sign to continue his walk. He doesn't expect you to stand in front of him or push your hands against his chest to yell at him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You ask him, fury edging your voice, his eyes dart between yours enjoying the fire in them, "Do you have any idea the work I've had to put in to make the hydrangeas that color? The soil has to be exactly right or they won't be red enough and look at what you're doing to my roses!" You push at him again, he tips his head to properly stare down at you.
"Move." He commands, and you push him again. Something shakes in his eyes, makes the world feel like it's trembling on the edge of insanity.
"You are supposed to stay on the path," You insist, "You move!"
"I am your king," König threatens, "Move or I will move you."
It hardly seems to make you do more than glare. He'd think you were stupid if he hadn't decided you were crazy. You point at the path he's made for himself. "This is my garden, and my flowers, and you-" You jab a finger against his chest, "-are going to apologize for ruining it."
König grabs your wrist and drags you, kicking, the rest of the way across the flower bed. You do your best, but he's sure to make you trample some of your precious flowers same as him. He tosses you onto the path and, though you stumble, you manage to keep yourself upright, glaring as he steps over the stone edging and back onto the path. You clench your hands into fists, and he hopes maybe you'll cry. He likes when that happens, it's fun seeing the waterworks. Instead you slap him, and all his anger and annoyance fall into the pit of his stomach as the chainmail mask stings both his cheek and your hand.
You seem to realize you've just struck the king almost as quickly as König realizes it. Though your reaction and his are miles apart. You freeze and he, decidedly doesn't. König grabs your arms and squeezes you, leaning in close to look you in the eye. You can smell the metal of his mask, see the almost reddish color of his irises. The mad dog that killed his father rather than wait for a throne that was already his. He's going to kill me, you think to yourself, watching the heave of his shoulders as he breathes.
"Do it again," He squeezes you tighter and your fear flips to confusion, "mein Herz, mein liebe, do it again Liebling."
Who are you to deny an order from your king?
#könig x reader#könig cod#könig mw2#könig call of duty#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#medieval au#oc: liebling#König x oc#konig mw2#they're freaks but that's fine#König finds out about Liebling's poison garden and asks to marry her#she turns him down immediately#I think König is a masochist#but in the way the hayao miyazaki is a masochist#he just assumes everyone enjoys pain like he does lol
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*ੈ✩ LAST WORDS OF A SHOOTING STAR
pair. itadori yuji x reader
synopsis. in the 3 days following the shibuya incident, itadori yuji emerges as a husk of his former self. with his immediate execution resumed, you both grapple with the feelings you have for each other and come to terms with his impending death.
content. hurt/comfort (lots of comfort, thank art because i was gonna be mean about this and they convinced me not to), slightly canon divergent (taking place between shibuya and the culling games), fluff and minor angst, yuta is the best wingman
wc. ~4.4k
NOVEMBER 1 2018
You imagine that your face was rather ghastly when you received the news.
"Execution?" You repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. No, that was the wrong description. It tasted of death—like iron and the depths of Hell filling your mouth until you were gurgling on it.
Unlike the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo, you had been ordered to stay back with Shoko in case of an emergency. You remember your exile from battle had left a similar rotten flavour in your mouth.
You vanished off the face of the earth after the incident was over. Most probably presumed you died in the aftermath. Devoured by a curse, they would say and shake their heads. You were always troublesome. And then they would move on with the rest of the world, all the same.
Lives were only temporary in the world of curses. Focus on who you can save, not who is already gone. They'll only end up a curse in your sleep. What a horrible notion to have.
The truth is that you'd been whisked away with Yuta, who seemed to be scheming a plan of his own. Perhaps as a middle finger to the higher ups he hated so much, or perhaps just for his own selfish reasons. You wouldn't know until he was finished carrying it through—he's too good at keeping secrets.
He wanted your reverse cursed technique, you knew that much for sure, even though he could do it himself. You were useful by his side, fitting into his plot in a way you could not in Shibuya. Feeling some sort of obligation and satisfaction, you followed him like a lost puppy.
And now here you are, seated by a dimming fire in the abandoned part of the city. Yuta was too clever for his own good. You suppose Gojo taught him some things well. This was their plan after all.
Yuji was safe, if only for this moment in time.
"Now with Gojo gone, it would have been easy for the higher ups to send assassins your way."
Ruthless and truthful, you flinch, but Yuji does not. He remains perfectly still in your hold, with your hands rotating his face around to get a better look at his wounds. You pour your cursed energy into him, hoping to breathe life back into his eyes, but they stay dull and empty.
"We'll find a way to stop this," you assure, reaching over to take a sanitizing wipe to clean an open cut. Yuta was too rough on him, but it was at least believable that Yuji was dead. He doesn't even recoil from the alcohol stinging his flesh, too engrossed in his own thoughts.
"Why?" He asks weakly. You gawk at him, but then it melts away into a softness that finally makes him blink up at you. "I'm evil."
"You're not evil, Yuji."
"I am. I killed those people. I did." His voice comes flat and defeated, nothing like the one you used to listen to over dinner while he reenacted shitty western films.
You never realize what you'll miss until it's gone. It's hollow, the ache in your heart.
"You don't understand. How could you? All this blood on my hands—"
"It was Sukuna," you quickly refute.
"And Sukuna only lives because I do!"
His voice raises at you, causing the flames behind you to flicker and crack. It's enough for Yuta to step in, acting as a barrier between your tense bodies. Yuji seems to shrink at this, realizing his emotions have run amok and that he has yelled at you.
You only stare back at him in bewilderment, like a frightened animal. Your upperclassman shakes his head.
"Enough of this. We need to start making plans."
You lay awake that night, alone and anxious. Yuta has taken the first shift of watching and patrolling while the two of you rest, though hesitant to leave you alone. He told you it’s another reason he dragged you along: having three people to rotate shifts instead of just two would be easier on your bodies and minds. The city is not what it used to be, now overrun with curses of all grades.
You reassured him it would be fine, that you would fall asleep quickly and so would Yuji—his body has to run out of steam eventually, right? Oh, what a fool you were.
The tension is so heavy that it's awkward, even though you're sleeping on opposite ends of the tunnel.
"Sleep," you demand as if you were Inumaki, like you have the power to curse him.
His eyes flutter open. Even in the firelight, you don't see any shine in them, seeming as if they had been extinguished of life. "Why don't you?"
"I can't until you do."
"That's stupid," he tells you.
It's not the first time you've argued like this. Back when the world felt right, you would sneak in through his dorm window well into the hours of the night. Platonic, you had convinced yourself. You snuck into his bed seeking companionship as a friend. That's the lie you gorged on.
A piece of you knew, and you're sure he did too, that the way your hands explored his arms was unnatural for two friends, and that friends wouldn't sneak into each other's rooms like this with such severe punishment on the line.
It was safe in his arms, with the dull hum of his television running an old horror film in the background. You didn't have to think about much other than his warmth when you sat between his legs with your back to his chest. Or when his arm was draped over your shoulder and you were pressed into his side—actually, you think you preferred this one though you felt sorry for his sore arm.
You would bicker about dumb, pointless things. Which movie is better, or which character deserved to be mutilated more. It would go on for so long that Megumi would bang his fist on their shared wall to get the two of you to shut up.
There was no curse strong enough to change time itself, so you keep your thoughts and memories to yourself when you respond.
"You'll be too tired to function on your shift," you reason.
"You both will be fine without me." Better off without me, you know he means. You've gotten good at reading between his lines.
You slowly sit up in your sleeping bag, eyes never leaving Yuji. He seems so frail right now, even though he looks more adult than he ever has before.
"Human Earthworm 4 was better than 2," you suddenly say. His eyes peer open again in confusion.
"Huh? 2 was way better."
"I liked the love story in 4," you argue, slowly getting out of your bag to shuffle to his side of the concrete tunnel. He looks at you as if you've said something outlandish, too preoccupied with his thoughts to wonder why you've come so close.
"2 had the best special effects though."
Your body shifts under his blanket.
"But 4 had a happier ending." (As far as 'happy' goes in the Human Earthworm series, at least.)
His arm falls around your waist as it has a hundred times, pulling you into his chest.
"Whatever," he huffs. The next topic comes fast and you're thrown into a full blown conversation with him. If you concentrate enough, you can imagine your bodies being tangled together in his bed, safe and sound.
Concrete and fire and the stench of curses melt away until he's all you can focus on.
"You have weird taste in movies," he concludes with his eyes drifting shut.
NOVEMBER 2 2018
You think you know how to fix broken people until you find that they are more than skin and bones.
You learn one thing after the Shibuya Incident: there are wounds residing within Yuji just as much as there are marking his flesh.
Yuta, you realize, had left the two of you alone to sleep and has protected you all night. You'll make it up to him, you reason. Yuji deserved to sleep.
When you wake up to his sleeping face, you think his cuts are healing nicely. But then his expression twists up in terror—a nightmare, if he even had enough energy left in him to conjure up dreams. He murmurs in his sleep, shakes his head a few times and thrashes around so much you're surprised you slept through the night by his side.
"Sukuna," he's whispering. Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna. King of Curses. The second voice tormenting him that lives in his own brain like a parasite. You bury yourself into his chest and hold him as tight as you can. He relaxes, body releasing its rigid form, but the murmurs continue.
He is shattered beyond repair. No amount of cursed energy could fix that, even if you tried.
You had once watched Yuji electrocute himself trying to set up the janky old television in his dorm room.
He fell back onto the floor with a loud crash, head hitting the wood so hard you thought he might have a concussion. It caused such a racket that Megumi came running into the room asking what happened, demon dog ready behind him in case of an ambush.
You rushed to the floor, discarding all the food you had settled in your lap and crumbled beside him to scoop him into your arms.
"Yuji!" You called him. People rarely used his first name. You felt special, like you knew him better than others did and for some reason that was a privilege. "Are you okay?"
He laughed in your arms, seeming unfazed by the fact that electricity had run through every vein in his body. "I'm fine, see? My finger just slipped."
You and Megumi both sighed in relief, though you always thought it was strange when you reflected on it. Yuji was a funny guy, yes. He was equal parts humour and destruction but not a klutz. Mistakes happen, so you let it slide until now, but some part of you was nagging to ask.
"That day," you start while rolling up your sleeping bag. "You electrocuted yourself. Remember?"
He looks at you funny over his shoulder. Yuta has already started cracking open cans of food for breakfast, embers of your dead fire cracking.
"Hmm, yeah. I remember. Why?"
"I just thought..." you trail off. "Well, Sukuna makes you tough to a lot of things. I'm surprised small electric shocks aren't one of them."
Sukuna. A name you'd been avoiding since this morning. Sickening silence settles between you. It's so heavy that you pause in your cleaning to look at him, brow raised.
"Yeah," he coughs. "Well, maybe I exaggerated."
"Huh?" You sound annoyed now. "You scared us half to death!"
Yuji only falters in his own chores. When he looks at you again, there's a longing in his gaze that you don't know how you could have missed. Or perhaps it was never there until now.
"It was nice to have you fawning over me," he admits.
The day goes on and all you feel is a terrible grief.
You become painfully aware of each millimeter the sun glides across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Time slips through your fingers fast as sand.
Horrifically, you can't find anything to talk about to fill the emptiness—Nobara and Megumi feel off the table considering the extent of their injuries. You don't even dare to breathe Gojo's name, let alone speak of him so boldly as Yuta is.
You're afraid that Yuji will spiral again, confused and unwilling to cooperate with his judgement clouded by loss. It's not your fault, you would say. It is, he would argue. It would do neither of you good, so you idle around while he and Yuta devise plans to tiptoe around the higher ups.
A part of you knows that if either of you told him to submit and die, he would. He's already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.
On the outside, he seems perfectly indifferent. Gaze steady, face stone and unchanging as he speaks. He's doomed, ill-fated, someone full of misfortune. He looks so lonely that the air itself parts for him where he stands.
To shoulder so much responsibility, so much death, maybe he truly is alone. Some fraction of him, at least—a piece of himself only he would ever understand.
Your hand snakes into his without a second thought. You don't know why you did it, nor do you have any reasoning that he doesn't yank away from you. His hand trembles, and it's then that you realize his whole body is wracked with tremors that don't match his distant disposition.
The second thing you learn is this: when Yuji self-destructs, he does it from the inside-out.
Itadori Yuji loves chocolate cake.
He loves all food, really, acting like your friend group's personal food dumpster whenever any of you were full. But chocolate cake you knew he had a sweet tooth for.
You used to bring it with you to his dorm, stopping by the convenience stores on the way home to grab a pre-packaged slice from the fridge for him to eat.
"You're making a mess," you would tell him with a frown, using your thumb to wipe up frosting from the corner of his mouth. You would lick the pad of your finger clean after that, and he would watch almost in a trance.
It's the reason why you stop on one of your patrols, poking through the fridge section of a convenience store. The power has been out for a long time in this part of the city, all the food is already room temperature, but you figure this is fine as long as it smells okay.
The way Yuji's face lights up when he sees you is all it takes for the worry to go away.
It briefly feels as though nothing has ever gone wrong—that after this slice of cake the two of you will tumble back onto his mattress and turn on another showing of Titanic. (He groaned about it once, saying he got KO'd too many times during this film. You only laughed in confusion.)
At the end of the day, you know those days will never come back to you, lost forever in the wind.
Fire dances before you and you watch, enchanted by the flames. You remember last night, how not even the firelight could make Yuji look the same as he did before. You turn your head to look at him, to see if it's any different tonight, just for your cheek to be caught in his palm.
His thumb traces your lip, the way you used to do to him. You recognize the pull of his finger against your flesh, the swipe of it to get frosting off, but he still seems dissatisfied.
"What?" You ask.
"It didn't come off," he mutters, leaning in dangerously close to observe. Heat rises all the way to your cheeks and makes your hairs stand on end. His touch is like molten lava. You wonder if it has something to do with the monster living inside of him.
"I can't see it," you whine without a mirror.
He draws a little closer, until he's inches from your face. "Let me..."
You've suddenly been dropped into cold, unknown waters. This is all unfamiliar. He's rushing this, as if making up for all the time the two of you lost pretending you were only friends. As if he can cram all the things he's wanted to tell you into one night.
Recoiling away, you find yourself hesitating. If he kisses you, this all becomes too real. It's an acknowledgment of his impending death. That the thread of his life is finer and further stretched than yours is.
An unpleasant thought rings through your mind. What if I become a curse on him?
"This only ends badly for us," you whisper, but the conviction is missing from your voice.
He doesn't care. At least, it doesn't look like he does. Who knows what he's thinking right now?
"Who cares?" He says. "We're Jujutsu Sorcerers. Everything bad happens to us no matter what."
You don't have any rebuttal to that, no argument that forms in your mind that could challenge his words. He was right. Only disaster befalls Sorcerers. Disaster and grief.
For a while you had forgotten, living these idyllic months watching the days pass by. You feel like you wasted that precious time worrying about stupid things, like what to have for breakfast or what kind of snacks you should pick up for movie night.
(It ended up being popcorn every time. He liked to piss off Sukuna with it, saying the King of Curses would never get to experience the pleasure of picking out kernels from his teeth. You scoffed but bought it anyway.)
Another thought crosses your mind: Yuji is more fit to be in a rom-com, or a television series where the good guys always win. Not this tragedy. Not this massacre.
You wonder if he's ever felt the same way. If he ever wished he could reach into the sky and turn the sun back to a time before he even knew what a curse was.
If you’d met each other under different circumstances, would this have been a different story? The thought makes your heart ache, a part of you so deep that even if you reached into your chest and plucked it, you'd still wail.
"Can I?" He asks you, eager but quiet. Had this been a few months ago, you imagine that he would have had this spark in his eye. That his lips would be crashing into yours with no inhibition.
But Yuji has always been selfless, you think he always will be. He doesn't want to drag you down if you don't want to—an out, they call it. An escape route just before he careens into a ditch.
Hope has drained from every inch of his expression. This is his loneliness talking.
Despite the dread that licks up your spine, you cup his face. You swear he jolts slightly beneath your touch, as if you've reached out to strike him down. A retribution he believes he deserves.
He kisses you like it's his last day on earth.
You learn one last thing: Itadori Yuji tastes familiarly of death.
Yuta decides to leave you alone for a second night in a row. His presence is so crushing that you know he's alive, but he stalks off somewhere else, leaving just you and Yuji huddled by the pitiful fire you've built.
He once claimed himself jokingly to be a love expert, and then ran off to Kenya for so long that you lost track of how much time passed. You wish you'd asked him before he left what he meant, but at the time it seemed irrelevant. Insignificant. The name Itadori Yuji had not yet been impressed into your heart like a seal.
You're busy setting up the sleeping bags, this time pushing them flush together. They're so close you can barely see the seam between them. Yuji stands on the other side of the fire, watching.
It reminds him of all the times you'd ever scolded him for not making his bed in the morning. I'm gonna crawl back in tonight anyway, he said. Who cares if it's messy?
Idiot, you would call him. But there was no malice behind it. He treated it like a pet name, a badge of honour to be your idiot.
Life felt so simple back then. He was full of determination and life and stuck to his morals as best he could. When he wavered he would text you to come over so you could fall asleep on his chest and suffocate any other thoughts out of his head.
"I've never felt so powerful before," he admits quietly. You turn to look at him, curious. "Like I could do anything in the world."
There's a negative connotation to that, you know. He could do anything. The world would crumble at his feet and there he would stand, laughing at it all. It isn't his will, not even slightly, but the demon taking refuge in his body would love to see the blood pool.
"Like I could just... reach out and—"
"Yuji!" You hiss, lurching forward to take his hand into yours and retreat from the flame. The skin is already pink and blistering, scorched by the embers. You twist his wrist around, observing where the fire licked the deepest, and pour your energy into him.
When you look up to see if he's crying, or at least grimacing in pain, you find only his smiling face—warm and adoring. For a second it feels like the world isn't burning around you.
It was nice to have you fawning over me.
You wipe that stupid smirk off his face, leaning in to smear a kiss along the scar on his lip.
"Idiot," you say, and he laughs for the first time in so long that it sounds foreign in your ears.
(He doesn't fall asleep that night. He would rather savour the sound of your soft snores, memorize the form of your body in his hold, and try his hardest to burn this into his brain.
So be it if you come to curse him one day. He would welcome you with open arms.)
NOVEMBER 3 2018
The day comes when Megumi sneaks into your hideout, asking for help.
His sister, he explains. He needs help saving Tsumiki. For some reason, resentment boils in your stomach, but then it's snuffed just as fast.
Two days and two nights you've spent pretending Japan isn't collapsing, content with sitting idly by as curses overran Tokyo. You're sure Megumi thought you to be cowards, that you were all hiding under this bridge to wait out the hellstorm that was raining down on your homes.
It was true to some extent. Once Yuji stepped out into battle again, that was that. You're not sure things would ever be the same again, though you suppose you lost the privilege of routine days ago.
"Let me come too," you urge. Three pairs of eyes land on you.
"No," Yuji pushes. "It's dangerous."
"I can fight!"
"You can't," he pauses, then corrects himself, "You won't."
Awkward silence settles over your encampment. Yuta stirs, standing to hold you steady by the shoulders.
"If we need help... if one of us is hurt, we'll need you unharmed. Do you understand?"
Ah, ever so wise, your upperclassman. So easy to persuade you. There's a reason why he's the chosen one only second to Gojo.
You swallow the bile that fights up your throat. "What if you don't come back?"
Yuji steps in this time, knocking away Yuta to hold you by the face. Get a grip, this means. Pull yourself together, don't you dare fall apart in front of me.
"We will."
You once considered telling him how you felt, letting it eat away at you until Nobara groaned in disgust.
“If Itadori starts dating before I do, I’ll puke.”
You remember that you laughed, thinking she was so dramatic. You loved that about her. “I think you would do worse.”
She glared at you, foot lightly kicking at your shin under the table. Still, she made sure to push equal amounts of rice to your side of the plate. “I might burn a village down,” she huffed, placing her chin on her palm.
“You’re fine. Even if I told him how I feel, I don’t think he’d accept.”
“Huh?” Nobara sounded genuinely confused, raising a brow at you. “What makes you think that?”
You didn't know how to answer that. Maybe you were just afraid that you had misinterpreted everything, that the way he held you was protective in a familial manner and that he would slam his door in your face when you tried.
Looking back on it, you can imagine him in the next room ranting about the same things to Megumi.
“He still has posters of Jennifer Lawrence on his wall,” you argued weakly while shoveling rice into your spoon. She watched you take your bite with her lips parted in disbelief.
You wish you had told him, then. Not that it would have changed where you both ended up.
You watch as they pack up their things.
Megumi's demon dog keeps you quiet company, tail thrashing against the ground as you slick back its fur. They talk around the dying flames, devising plan after plan. None seem safe. None would be.
Yuta and Megumi leave first, taking the lead in front of the pack. His dog melts into the shadows and disappears, leaving you sitting alone.
"I want to take you back, but..." Yuji glances over his shoulder toward his death sentence. "Will you make it okay on your own?"
You get up slowly, as if to draw out the time he stands before you. A thousand questions run through your head: what if you never see him again? What if this kills him, not by body, but by his already damaged soul?
He must sense the racing of your mind, so he leans in to engulf you in his arms. In an instant, memories of those days spent lounging in his bed, shoveling your food onto his plate, and purposefully talking louder to tease Megumi come flooding.
A year you would never forget. You're sure it'll become a curse if you dwell, so you tell him: "I'll make it. You go on, they need you."
I need you, too. Stay. If only it were so simple.
He smiles at you, warm like the sun that's hidden behind the barrier. Itadori Yuji looks like a ghost of his former self, battle-worn and covered in scars where his skin used to be smooth. He kisses you again for good measure, making sure he remembers the way you sigh into his mouth.
When he pulls away, there's life gleaming in his eyes.
"Let's watch Human Earthworm 5 when I come back."
Your thumb brushes the corner of his lip. You open your mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth after all this time. You'd rather not die regretting you never said it, after all.
But you stop.
"I prefer Titanic," you confess. He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. Then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.
You'll make up for lost time one day. It won’t be today. You can tell him all about your feelings when he comes back to you.
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
#— whispers in the wind ✧#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x gn!reader#yuji itadori#jjk yuuji#yuuji x reader#yuji x reader#itadori yuuji#itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuji x you#itadori yuji x y/n#jjk itadori#yuji itadori x reader
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your talents
hi! today's pac is all about your talents! as people we are so diverse so not all of your talents may be in this reading. however i hope this helps you discover yourself more!
take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3
🥀paid readings🥀
Disclaimer: My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.
pick a pile
piles 1-2
3-4
i do not own these pictures
pile 1
You are great at giving people honest and genuine advice. You make people see parts of themselves that they may have not seen before, good or bad.
You may be great with finances. Or have the potential to be, if you learned more about it. You could study finances or economics. Don't have to, but you may still learn a bit about this topic. I think this will benefit you. (I am not a financial advisor or professional, this is just what cards are telling me!)
Being some sort of a teacher/advisor may suit you well too. Economics professor just came through but you could also be a dance teacher, therapist etc. Just something where you help people broaden their visions.
You are great with new beginnings. You know how to make something blossom. You are also great with endings.
What I am seeing is you can materialize any interest of yours. Like maybe you want to learn guitar or learn how to cook, you can become quite good at them(to be more specific anything you want). Also this applies to material gains. The world is your oyster, I heard your guides say.
Some of you may be talented at fashion. Whether it is designing or just making great outfits in daily life.
You are also great at thinking ahead and planning.
You are probably at peace with your shadow self or you are on the way to be.
You have an earthy vibe to you. Your self confidence and calmness makes you a great manifestor. You could also be great at meditation, yoga etc. Anything that makes you connect with the universe and yourself more.
Messages from spirit:
You still have full autonomy regarding ‘it’. “Nothing is yet set in stone.” You have a lot of potential.
You may need to release something. What is it? Think about this if you don’t know. Because deep down you know it.
thank you for reading <3
pile 2
I see a strong emphasis on your beauty. You could be / have the potential to be a model. Regardless, you are attractive and you may use this to your advantage. I am not saying you inherently have bad intentions. You are just good at charming people and getting what you want. You also probably would do great at things that require you to be in the spotlight.
You are great at saving money.
You are a great fighter and a diligent person. You are persistent with what you want. Even if the situation seems hopeless. You find a way to make it work. And this usually gets you where you want to be (or even better places) in life.
You know how to balance things in life. It just comes naturally to you. You know sometimes life does not evolve the way we want. And you trust the universe even in these times. You know you can get your ideas to real life even in the darkest times.
Your words are powerful. You could use words to manifest. You could also be a writer of some sort (book writer, lyrics writer etc.).
You may be great with plants, flowers or you may be good at biology.
The numbers 8 and 6 might be significant.
You are good at dealing with emotions. You are an emotionally intelligent person.
You have natural talents to share your wisdom and your talents. You could benefit from being some sort of a teacher or a performer. Someone people watch.
You have a great understanding of life. The occult and history might be suitable fields of search for you. (I’m especially getting Egyptian mythology.)
Messages from spirit:
You might be holding onto something out of pride. For most of you this is something from the past that you cannot let go of.
Look at your situation from a different perspective. People who you deem wrong may be right.
thank you for reading <3
pile 3
You have a natural ability to lead and gather people. Whether for a cause or a project. In your work field or in a hobby that you do, you may pave the way for some sort of thing. For example you may start a new way of doing things, or you may be the first to do something in your hometown etc.
You may have a talent for singing and/or public speaking. This also ties in with leadership because a good leader should also be good at speaking. Even if you lead a small group of people, good communication is key in my opinion.
You are also good at ending conflicts and finding the middle ground.
You are also great at comforting people. You can transmute people’s worries. And you are also a great friend. You friends value you a lot.
You can tackle a lot at once. For example you can do modeling, studying, working at a part-time job all at once. Or if it’s just one job you can do different elements of it. Like youtubers; they film, edit and advertise their videos on their own. As a continuation of this, I see that you are a multi-talented person.
I see you handling fast-paced life well. And this is because after all this running around you know how to come back to yourself and sit still. Maybe you do yoga, meditation, or any type of mindful activity.
When you love something, you also have a GREAT passion for it. This makes you also stand out at what you love. You can do the hard work for what you want.
By harnessing all of these talents of yours, you can achieve great success (whatever success is to you).
You have great spiritual protection around you. From your guides.
Messages from spirit:
You may meet a soulmate(platonic or romantic) or a romantic partner of yours soon. Or you may enter a phase of your life in which you’ll meet your romantic soulmate. For most of you it's the latter. And for this, spirit wants you to hold on to your visions.
thank you for reading <3
pile 4
You have a youthful energy to you. You spread happiness to those around you. You give them energy. While you have youthful energy, I see you as a wise person. You have an immense intellect. You could have gone through some hardships but you got to the other side with great strength and important lessons. Despite this you protected your child-like spirit. Your inner-child feels safe and heard with you.
You have a great imagination. Your dream world is probably pretty big. I get neptune-ish vibes from you. I heard that you may be a poet, if not I suggest you give it a shot. If you do not like poems, you can do other things that get you to use your imagination and emotions. Because I see a great potential in you.
Some of you may be life path 22 or 7. Even if not, your life path is important for you.
You probably have a close bond with spirit. You are a great manifester. Despite your lighthearted energy, I see that you may have an interest in the occult.
You have a talent for dancing.
You could also do well in areas where you need to have a quick wit. I hear politics for some of you. The term “crazy like a fox” applies to you.
Despite appearing playful, you are pretty grounded. Even some of you may not realize this. You just need to work on it a bit more maybe.
You are graceful in the things you do.
Messages from spirit:
The thing you are asking for is within your reach! However while working towards it, you need both spiritual and practical effort for it. (Spiritual effort may be visualizing it for 5 minutes every day, etc.)
thank you for reading <3
#tarot#tarot reading#pac#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#intuitive reading#intuitive readings#divination
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“Confession”
Summary: Sanji tries to confess your love to you... many times.
pairing: Sanji x fem!reader
genre: romance with a small hint of comedy.
author's note: for some reason, I think canon Sanji is someone who is quite oblivious when it comes to women who ACTUALLY like him. Like bro notices when men adore him but can't tell a girl has the hots for him?? Anyways, out of frustration I wrote this but just roles reversed. Enjoy, hehe
His tenderness and kindness drops like honey from his fingertips, this is quite evident when he carefully strokes your skin with the back of his hand, gently brushing off your hair when your head rests on his lap, his lips touch your shut-closed eyes, reciting you poetry about them every morning and every evening.
Oh, how he admires and yet envies the light of the sun landing on your skin, the cool breeze that gets to caress your hair and the blessed land you walk upon where flowers seem to bloom with each one of your steps.
How can a man express a love so grand? What words could Sanji ever use to depict his own feelings, or to come even close to explaining them? Among all of these questions, there is a specific one that has grown roots on his head for a while now:
How do I confess?
Imagine the agony of seeing the person you love every day, emotions building up inside of you so much so that even a glance of them towards your direction shakes your whole soul. Ok, now that you have imagined what it feels like, multiply that feeling with x100; that’s what a hopeless romantic such as Sanji has endured ever since the day he fell for you (but that’s a story for another time). Now, let me introduce to you 3 attempts Sanji tried to confess his love:
1. A pretty flower for an even prettier flower
It’s Spring, around 4 months ago. You are rotting in the girl’s dorm, still recovering from some heavy injured back you had to deal with after a tough fight. There are sounds of laughter outside, so loud that you could hardly listen to the sound of waves or anything like that. From what you could hear, you had reached an island which seemed to make the crew enthusiastic for some reason you could not really tell from the darkness and loneliness of your surroundings.
“Damn it, I can’t even stand up on my own” - you try to lift yourself up but quickly surrender due to the immense pain in your back. A loud sigh escapes your mouth as you cover your face with a hand, rubbing your temple and holding yourself back from shedding any tears that could reflect that your need to be useful is now under attack, and you feel more useless than ever.
“Can I come in?” - a knock or two are heard at the door. You’re caught completely off guard but yet manage to blur out with a cracked voice: “Please do.”
Goodness, you had to cover your eyes from the light that shone through the room when the door opened, almost blinding you. Thus, you can’t really tell who just came in but a feeling of some sort was telling you that it was alright, that it was safe.
“We landed on a new island. - the voice approaches and comes closer, becoming clearer. - It’s quite beautiful.”
A touch of your hand makes you immediately realise that it was Sanji who is now sat beside you, caressing your hand. Your vision gets back to normal and you gaze happily at the blond chef. He looked so pretty: a nice pink shirt with a flower pattern, shorts and sunglasses he’s wearing.
“Why aren’t you exploring then?” - you ask, caressing his hand back.
“Oh, I did my exploring. It’s just that all that beauty that I saw…- Sanji reveals his hand hidden behind his back. There was a bouquet of flowers he was holding, landing them to you. Goodness, the way your eyes sparkled in joy caught Sanji off guard. His gaze softens. - …all that beauty that I saw reminded me of you.”
You take the flowers and sniff them, the aroma captivating your senses as your dopamine reaches high levels that were not reached for months.
“Thank you, Sanji. This… - you gaze lovingly at the flowers and then at him. - …this means a lot.”
“Don’t thank me. I’d do anything for you.” - he grabs your chin and pinches it gently, giving you a reassuring smile.
“Actually, I came to see you because I wanted to-
“You wanted to make sure I was fine, right? Don’t worry, I do feel better now. Promise!” - you interrupt him, thinking that he was still worrying himself over your condition. However, the expression on his face made you doubt that that was the real reason he came.
“Oh, is it because you want to ask me what I want for dinner?”- you try again, trying to guess the reason of his visit, which he did often.
“Uhm right, I did want to ask you that…” - Sanji smiles awkwardly as he strokes the back of his neck. Guess he couldn’t really say what he wanted now, instead he just smiles and listens to your wishes regarding dinner.
“How about we have dinner together, just the two of us, when you get better of course?” - he suggests and you widen your eyes.
Just the two of you? Why is he asking that?
For some reason that gave you a weird feeling in your stomach, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Well, it would be my pleasure, chef.” - you tease, pinching his nose jokingly as the cook gives a blushing smile.
2. What’s mine is yours
The dinner table was decorated beautifully by Sanji, the colors, the texture of the fabrics and all the details up to the crystal clear utensils would make every woman in the world happy. He is now sat patiently, waiting for you to come down and dine with him.
Once you go out the door you notice the setting your favourite cook has done for you. With a quick glance you fasten your step to go down the stairs, giving a small cough to make him notice you.
How foolish, you think he didn’t notice you?
Sanji saw you from afar, and that man is already weak in the knees from seeing you all dressed up with a chic black dress, a nice golden necklace resting on your neck, complemented gracefully with your long dark flocks falling off your bare shoulders.
“You came.” - Sanji reaches for you hand, kissing the back of it whilst looking deep into your eyes.
“For you, always.” - a wink at him before you go and sit down makes the blond crazily happy. He immediately pulls the chair back for you and rushes to serving some delicious hot meals.
“I love that we are doing this outside.” - you claim, finally feeling a bit of fresh air coming in your lungs.
“I thought you would. - Sanji lights up a candle placed in the middle of the table. - I know you’re a romantic at heart as well.”
You chuckle, not disagreeing with his statement.
“Thank you for the food.” - you say and start digging in. Ah, he never fails when it comes to cooking. You could live 109 more lives and never get to try Sanji’s food anywhere else.
“Perfect.” - you whisper, letting out a small moan from the satisfying taste. Little do you know that even such small details never go unnoticed by Sanji. He keeps staring at you, your dress, hair, your eyes that sparkle with light every time you look at him.
“Here, try some of this.” - Sanji picks up with his chopsticks a piece from his plate and offers it to you.
Of course you want to try it so you open your mouth and eat it, closing your eyes shut for a bit.
“Ahhh, Sanji it’s just so good!” - you exclaim, grabbing the table cloth.
Alright, you might be someone who overacts at times but now come on! look what you’re doing to the poor guy. You moan his name in a sentence like that and expect him to remain his full composure?
Bro had to keep it in him not to tell you that he fucks as good as he cooks for the hundredth time.
These thoughts are quickly shaken off when he notices your body trembling a bit. He immediately gets up, strips his jacket off.
Now, you’re caught off guard. His sleeves are rolled up and his forearms give a nice impression of a good physique. Moreover, his visible biceps and wide shoulders... Did he always have a waist that small?
“Here, I’d rather die that let you catch a cold.” - his sentence interrupts a train of not so holy thoughts for which you were confused of where they came from.
You shake your head and say a small ‘thank you’ to Sanji before going back to eating. However, now his cologne is evident, coming from the jacket placed on your shoulders. Alluring and strong, just like him.
“Are you listening?” - he asks and you widen your eyes, asking him a very polite ‘sorry, what?’
“Never mind. Nothing important.” - there it is again, that awkward smile. What is it that he has to say but doesn’t tell me?
The rest of the dinner goes fairly well. Around midnight you both find yourself and the doorstep of the girl’s dorm.
“Thank you for joining me.” - he kisses your hand, caressing it with his thumb, not letting go just yet.
“Thank you for having me, Sanji.” - you smile, a weird rush of adrenaline conquering your body. Not understanding what it really is, you rush inside and wave a final ‘bye’ to the cook, closing the door behind you. Who knows what would have happened if you kept your hand in his for any longer; his warmth and the comfort he radiates with only the touch of his hands made you think how good he would f- NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE!
3. The horizon knows about us
It’s a lonely sunset - that’s how you call it when there is no one to share the view with. Nevertheless, it does not stop you from admiring it, eyes filling with light coming from a colorful sky that resembles a drunk painting.
The admirer has an admirer which is watching from behind, slowly approaching.
“I thought you didn’t like lonely sunsets?” - Sanji approaches, taking his hands off his pockets and resting his arms on the wooden plateau.
“Well, - you smile, tilting your head towards him. - we have to stop and appreciate what burns for us, and the sun has been burning for way too long.”
You say those words and Sanji is fully immersed, captivated, staring at your profile like he would keep burning if it means his eyes would get the blessing of seeing you everyday, his light would keep shining on you, setting himself a blaze to let you be warm, always.
“You know, I'm sure it's a pleasure for the sun to burn for you. - he takes a deep breath before continuing, mastering the courage to look at you in the eyes. - And just like it, I too have been burning for a while.”
Your eyes widen at his statement, face immediately turning to him.
“Why so?” - your voice comes out so soft and caring that Sanji’s lip trembles.
“There are words I want to say, feelings I want to express, verses of my own that I want to recite that are stuck on my throat, making me unable to breath, suffocating me.” - Sanji starts explaining, grabbing your hands together and resting them on his chest.
“It’s all in here. - he says. - please tell me that you feel it too.”
You have stopped blinking for a while now, trying to take in as much as possible from the situation. The sun keeps setting as so do your feelings. They become more evident, a sudden epiphany hitting the depths of your very soul. Your heart recognizes, understands what Sanji is talking about cause you feel it, you have felt it many times.
“Sanji… - you call his name, tightening the grip on his hands. - I’m listening this time. More than ever I’m not only listening to you but also to my own heart. - you gulp hard, approaching him closer. - I need you to tell me first.”
Sanji smiles, putting your hands in front of his lips, hiding the blush of his cheeks whilst not breaking eye contact.
“I confess to you, the sun and the horizon that I have inevitably fallen in love with you.” - his voice does not tremble, nor does his body shake. However, both of your hearts are going crazy as the heat between you becomes more and more evident. After an intense prolonged eye contact, you cup his cheek, glancing at the sky for a second whilst noticing the darkness setting in, a darkness that you do not loath anymore.
“Let me then confess to you, the moon and the stars that I have fallen in love with you too.” - you smile cheekily, making Sanji mirror your genuine smile, this time not awkwardly but wholeheartedly, as he grabs your waist swiftly, bringing you close to his embrace.
The sun is completely set and the sky has fully darkened. There is now the moon who watches over along with the little stars that dance happily over lovers. No matter what time, the horizon had witnessed two lovers uniting, giving them all the colors that it could present for such a memorable moment.
Thus, it did take him a while, but now Sanji and you have found peace in each other, a comfort that only love can provide. And a fairytale have you become for people who gather the courage to express what lies deep inside them, taming the fire so that it could warm your lover but never burn you.
#one piece#one piece sanji#op sanji#sanji#black leg sanji#opla sanji#sanji imagine#onepiece anime#one piece x you#one piece x y/n#one piece x reader#sanji x y/n#sanji x reader#sanji x you#sanji oneshot#sanji one piece#one piece men#one piece oneshots#sanji fanfic#sanji simp
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SORRY, AMOUR
request: where he teases the reader playfully (like usual) but without realising she's already had a bad day, so that sort of backfires and she almost cries lol and he starts to panic making it up to her
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧── ∘₊✧
"Amour, you've been lying on that bed forever. Don't you think you've had enough rest?" Charles teased as he stood in the doorway of your room, a smirk playing on his lips. You didn't turn your head to face him, but you were sure he had that playful expression. "I couldn't sleep last night. I just need a few more hours, Charles," you replied with your eyes closed, trying to fall asleep for over an hour by then. Your mind had been wandering about everything since yesterday night, from your schoolwork and exams to your and Charles's dog's illness. Despite Charles's stress about Ferrari and races, you didn't want to burden him with your own life problems. You felt they were insignificant compared to the weight he was carrying with his team's strategies.
"Why is that, chéri? Was I snoring?" Charles asked with a joking tone. While you were glad he was in a good mood after his podium in SPA, you weren't in the mood for small talk. You just hummed in response, an uneasy and almost angry reply. It was clear that you wanted him to leave you alone, as it wasn't the right time for teasing. Charles, noticing something was amiss and sensing your uneasiness, decided to take a different approach. He swiftly entered the room that you had shared for a year now and slowly sat on his side of the bed before starting to talk.
"I thought we were going to grab breakfast, chéri?" he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. However, his attempt didn't go as planned, and you reached your limit. Your priority that morning wasn't grabbing breakfast. The immense anxiety on your chest and the heavy feeling throughout your body were overwhelming.
"I don't think so. I don't feel like it. Actually, I just want to lay here and cry for a while," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion as tears began to well up in your eyes.
Charles's playful demeanor disappeared as he realized the seriousness of the situation. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you gently into his comforting embrace. He softly stroked your hair and whispered reassuring words, "It's okay, my love. You can take all the time you need. Let it out, and I'm here for you."
You couldn't help but let the tears flow as you clung to Charles, feeling his warmth and support. Gradually, he encouraged you to talk about what was bothering you. You opened up about the overwhelming pressure of schoolwork and exams, the worries about your dog's illness, and the constant thoughts that had kept you up all night.
Listening attentively, Charles assured you that everything would turn out alright, that he was there to help and support you through it all. He reminded you that you were not alone in facing life's challenges and that you could lean on him whenever you needed to.
As the weight on your chest began to lift, Charles noticed your mood improving slightly. He knew that sometimes all it took to bring a smile back to your face was a bit of distraction and comfort. So, he decided to do just that.
"Hey, how about we take a break from everything for a moment?" Charles suggested with a gentle smile. "I got something to cheer you up." He reached over to grab some coloring books and art supplies, knowing that you enjoyed expressing yourself through art.
He also brought out a playlist of your favorite music, hoping that the familiar tunes would help lift your spirits. As the music played softly in the background, Charles joined you in coloring, creating a relaxing and fun atmosphere.
"Je t'aime, Charles," you said, suddenly burning with the urge to reciprocate the love you felt for him.
“Je t'aime, mon amour," he whispered, Charles kissed you tenderly, his lips conveying a sense of comfort and belonging. The worries and anxieties seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of serenity in his presence
#f1 x you#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 x y/n#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#f1 fiction#f1 au#charles leclerc au#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#charles leclerc imagine#carlos sainz x reader#daniel ricciardo#f1 fanart#carlos sainz f1
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oliver talking his partner through it and calling him d**** god your brain is so huge my stomach hurts thinking about this. he’ll never tell you he loves you to your face and tries to fuck you more like he hates you because he doesn’t want to get too attached but as you’re getting close he’s all in your face and your neck, teasing you, biting your ear and softly begging you to tell him how you feel, how it’ll be better for him if you tell d**** just how close you are and how much you need him. takes you over the crest so sweetly, and continues rolling into you, chasing his own. his kisses are nonstop and so overwhelming, and he knows they are but he just really needs to connect with you like this. never the first to say “i love you” but unfortunately (in his opinion) he expresses it in so many other ways. sorry.
but i crumble completely when you cry | a. oliver
✮ tags ; DADDY KINK, afab + fem!reader, situationship!oliver, hooking up, unresolved romantic tension, p in v, praise, soft sex, it gets emotionally strange, riding, creampies, unprotected sex, under-negotiated kink in a sense though oliver is very careful
✮ wc ; 2.2k (i dont want to talk about it)
✮ a/n ; anon im going to haunt your dreams for putting this absurd image into my head when i dont even go here im crying screaming throwing up ive been thinking about it for hours. hours of my life wasted on this guys dick. upsetting!!!!!
also i do not write this often and do not plan too again any time soon so if ur seeing this and thinking about following me for content like it i would not recommend!!!
✮ synopsis ; you don't trust oliver with your heart or your feelings. nor do you expect anything from him.
but it's hard not to lean into him when he decides to cradle you so gently.
Your relationship with Oliver is both very ambiguous and very clear.
There's a line drawn, and you both steer clear of crossing it in your interactions. Oliver is fun. He's attractive and charming, a massive flirt but just genuine enough to be interesting.
It helps that he's hot. Physically, he's got an unreal build.
He's an athlete, so he's big. Wide chest and strong arms, thick thighs and the height to top it off. He's 6'3, and he's sexy (and his dick is huge) - and you sleep with him because of that. You don't date him explicitly because he's a womanizer. If you'd met when you were a little younger, a little more naive - you might've tried to dog-train him into being your boyfriend.
Because on top of the immaculate dick, he's fun to be around. He's funny, he drinks well, he's not a scumbag in the ways that turn you off.
You're old enough to know better. You have a career. You're too busy, and too jaded about love to try and fix whatever weird shit he has going on. So even if the two of you harbor some sort of emotional or romantic feelings for each other, you're smart enough to not get invested in those feelings and smart enough to have no expectations.
Oliver is your fun. He's your sneaky link, your weekend off. You come to him to blow off steam. You have rough, fast sex and it's good. Sometimes you chill afterwards, and you'll indulge each other in some physical affection but other times you take your shower and leave. It's a good time, and you know well enough not to ever ask him for any of your emotional needs. You have your therapist and girl friends for that.
Normally, when you're having a rough week - it's prime time to go to him. He'll fuck you a little harder than usual, and sometimes he's nice enough to kiss it better. But it's still, very distinctly, never crossing that boundary.
But some weeks, like this week - shit is bad. Not just stressful bad, but everything in the fucking world that could go wrong, is going wrong bad. It's not the kind of thing you can get over by compartmentalizing and even when you try to do your usual thing it doesn't really work.
You're trying right now - to get over the fucked up week you had. And you're turned on, but somehow - it's still not enough to get you completely out of it.
Oliver pauses mid stroke, in missionary - hetero-chromatic eyes staring you down as your thoughts are somewhere else completely. You don't notice the first time he stops, or the first time he calls you.
And he only gets your attention by cupping your face and making you look at him. You startle as you cast your glance his way.
"What's with you?" He asks, though he's not pissed or anything "Not feelin' it? Want me to stop?"
"No, you don't have too."
"Not what I asked," He chastises, letting go of your face "Not having your full attention is making me go soft,"
This makes you laugh, and Oliver cracks a smile seeing the tension melt off your face if only slightly.
"I'm cool with stopping." He assures. You let your hand reach up to his shoulder.
"It's not like I want to stop, necessarily? Like I wanna do something to get my mind off it and sex feels like the best option, but you know how it goes sometimes," You say, trying your best to avoid the emotional baggage of your words "We can stop though. I'll pay you for your wasted time," You tack the joke on at the end to ease the tension.
You're expecting him to pull out and stop, or maybe challenge himself into fucking you so good that you forget. Something more quintessentially Oliver than what he does do.
He gives you a blank look first, than a laugh that is a touch too sincere for you to be comfortable "That bad of a week?"
You're suddenly in dangerous territory. Somehow, this strange intimacy makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You swallow thickly, the emotions coming over you so quick you end up looking away.
"Yeah. You know. It's fine, but you know."
"Mm," He says. He leans into your space. His breath is warm and his stubble tickles your skin as he whispers in your ear. You feel your breath hitch. And the air feels heavy "Wanna try somethin' else?"
"Like what?"
"A surprise," He says first, and find your stomach tightening. A hollowness in your nerves "Gotta trust me."
"You're scaring me." You joke.
"I'm a sex expert, you know?" Oliver says, humming against your skin "If I can't remedy your little problem with my dick, it's bad for my street cred. My yelp reviews will tank."
"You're such a dumbass."
"Do you trust me?"
You don't know how to answer. Yes, for the most part. Not with everything, but with your pleasure at least. Whatever this is, it doesn't feel the same. But you say yes, anyways. Oliver kisses your jaw in reply, then he pulls out.
He flips position easily. He ends up on his back, then he grabs you to rest on top of him. You're not sure what you're expecting. He holds you by your hips as your sex hovers over his cock. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin as he sinks you down slowly onto him.
You only stare at him, mouth opening as you feel him stretch you open for a second time.
You're more aware of it this way. He's so thick, and so intrusive - and normally, you're feeling that in hard strokes. Fast and rough, like something knocking into your cervix. But like this, he's hitting a deep angle. You can feel every curve, every inch, as you come down slowly.
He keeps you there. For longer than you'd expect. Just keeps you, settles you, holds you gently. You stare at him as he grabs your hand, locking your fingers. Your first instinct is to panic, or crack a joke - but there's an intense look in his eye that shuts you up.
Uncharacteristically gentle, you find yourself frightened. Oliver's hands reach for you again. They hold your waist and slide up the planes of your body. He holds your tits in his palms and squeezes.
He does this a lot, but there's not usually this much touching. This much foreplay. It's grabby, a deeper pressure. He doesn't...feel you, in the way he is now. You stare at him, and he looks back at you so fondly you feel a strange urge to pretend it never happened.
"Play with your clit," He says, though there's no urgency in his voice.
Deep and smooth, the timbre in it has you shaking. You listen, on auto-pilot as you play with yourself clumsily and build a slow pressure. He just watches.
"C'mere, baby. And don't stop touching yourself."
Another pause. It's not the first time he's called you that. He likes to call you all sorts of things when you're fucking, and baby is one of the few. But not like that. Not like this. He gives you a lazy, self satisfied smile and encourages you by placing a hand on where he can reach on your low back.
You lean down, and Oliver tucks you into his chest. He's warm, and strong - and smells so good, like musk and cologne. Your free hand is on his chest, as he grips your hips and fucks up into you.
"That's it," His voice is pleasant to your ears. It feels funny to you "Just gotta listen to me."
He starts fucking you slowly. It's a familiar feeling, a pleasant stretch that dulls into a euphoric fullness. But it's never been this slow before. Each thrust is slow, and punctual, and so deep you feel yourself gasping. It's not enough to push you over the edge, but it's enough to make your mind feel a little numb.
You think he's going to keep at you like this, maybe edge you to take you out of it. But he doesn't. He keeps his pace.
"Had a hard time this week, didn't you, tough girl?" He mumbles, so low it doesn't feel real. You feel your heart start to race. You feel your throat start to close around something, choking "Did a good job and came to me. Gonna let me take care of it?"
You stumble. You aren't sure what to say, you nod and hope he feels it. He laughs a little. You can't be sure if you're fucking Oliver or not.
You know it's him but he's never been like this. Not once. Not ever.
"Gonna let daddy take care of you?" He says, though it's tentative. Your breath hitches. Something strange overwhelms your senses "Tell me, baby."
"Uhm," Your first reaction is a sense of resistance, an immediate pull away. Not that you hate it but you aren't sure how to adjust. You squirm, but you don't tell him no. You feel like you can't in this state "Uh-uh,"
He keeps surprising you, pressing his lips to yours where you hover over him, tender as he ups the pace of his thrusts.
"That's what I like to hear," He almost sounds proud "You'll hurt your head if you think too much. And I'd be a bad daddy, letting that happen, yeah?"
A vulnerable, foreign sensation drives you to speak "You're not bad in that way."
He laughs "Just in other ways, right?"
You giggle "Uh-huh."
"But not in this one," He repeats, very carefully. He fucks into you harder now, pays extra special attention to you. It's all for you, is what he's saying in a language completely foreign yet somehow so known. One only the two of you will ever know fully, confined in the four walls of this room "Daddy is good at taking care of you like this, so you should let him do just that. Tough girls always need their daddies, hm?"
It's what ends up tipping you up over the edge. You cling to him, succumbing to whatever weird space the two of you have fallen into you. Suspended in this odd sense of comfort that Oliver has thrust you in unannounced.
You don't trust Oliver with a lot, and this is more than what you should ever find yourself giving. In the back of your head you think you should pull away.
But he's comforting. It feels good, and strangely feels safe - and even for all the ways he's awful, you trust he'd never do anything bad to you. Even if it's a blip in the timeline, for now it's what you need. A blurry cross into your emotional needs that translate into your physical ones. Too much and so overwhelming, you hug closer to him and take a deep breath.
"Mm," You let yourself lean into him. Just this once, you promise yourself. "I wanna cum."
"Want it a little harder?"
"Mhm,"
"Then Daddy will give it to you a little harder, yeah? Anything for you." He says, and you try not to think to deeply on what that really means. Because even in this state you know it's not nothing, but you should never pry "Daddy can give you anything you want."
"Yeah?"
He chuckles a little as he fucks into you hard. Fucks into you how you need. You're wet enough, and wondering if you were always so into being doted on. Or if it's just the fact that it's Oliver. Another thing you decide to overlook as you zero in on the sensation of being pistoned from underneath. You're soaking. The room noisy with the sticky noise of Olivers cock penetrating you over and over, skin hitting skin as his hips press against your ass. His grip is bruising but not intentionally, his chest huffed in pleasure.
He's just as close as you are, you know all of his cues. You play with your clit faster, sensitive bud throbbing hard as all the blood rushes south. Your mouth has fallen open as the slow, thick desire coiling and culminating into something cosmic. Something big and heavy, but not too fast. Not a crash landing like you're used to.
But a single weight, the force of a star dropping to Earth. You figure Oliver is the gravity in your universe, holding you down so you don't float too far. You want to cling onto him for much longer.
And somehow, you're inclined to think he would let you.
"Oliver," You say his name as it builds, then decide on something else "Daddy,"
"I'm here, baby," He says back, like it's all he has to say for everything to make sense when nothing about this does "I'm right here. Let go."
So you do. You cum hard, and it comes in long never ending waves. Too much. It makes you collapse in Olivers arms, both arms coming around his neck as he continues to fuck you through the aftermath.
"Gonna," He voices, rasping as his thrusts become sloppy "Shit. Cumming, shit."
He cums with you, cums deep inside like usual and you mewl at the feeling of being filled with hot, sticky seed.
When it's over, you're almost afraid to look at him. When the tensions settled, and his chest goes back to it's steady breaths - you wonder whats going to happen next.
"Wanna stay like this for a while?"
You nod.
"Mm. Sleepy."
"Stay like this, then. I'll wake you in a little."
"So you can kick me out?" You joke, trying to pretend nothing is different. He pauses.
"Just to shower," He whispers, hand resting on your lower back "Sleep."
There's too much to think about. Tomorrow will be strange. You let yourself succumb to your own exhaustion.
"Okay."
#return to sender#daddy kink cw#oliver x reader#oliver aiku x reader#oliver aiku smut#bllk x reader#bllk smut#writing tag#this wouldve become a 10k fic if i was not so fucking careful
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