Tumgik
#so it pushes his feelings into a much more grounded if no less complicated place
lucy-moderatz · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You have to ask Daphne out again.
11 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
helloooo, i have a request if its possible♡
since we got figure skater! Sirius..... Do you think we could get hockey player! James x figure skater! reader? Maybe they go to the same place but the place where they practice its kinda shitty so its literally kinda like an across the hallway situation where the hockey practice happens on one ice rink and when you leave you can walk thru the ice rink of the figure skaters that its on another section of the place IDK I'M NOT AN ARCHITECT SORRY
BUT THE POINT ITS, that one day James leaves practice later than usual and he's walking to get out but he heards his favorite song playing and he goes to see whats up because its his favorite song ever! and goes to the other ice rink and sees the reader practicing and inmediatly he has the biggest crush ever and its almost dreaming about a house and three kids with that cute girl
idk i think i explained myself like sht but hope you like the idea! cause i think it would be soo cute
Hi lovely, you explained yourself perfectly! Thanks for being so patient with me, I hope this is alright <3
hockey player!James x figure skater!reader ♡ 718 words
James’ entire body is pleasantly sore, and he’s very much looking forward to going home to a nice, hot shower. 
“Do you and Moony want to go get breakfast tomorrow morning?” he asks Sirius as they leave the locker room. The two of them had taken longer than usual changing out of their gear, Sirius filling him in on the absolute hell week Remus had at his new job. To hear Sirius talk about it, all the other professors are simply jealous of Remus. James is sure that’s partly true, but he’d bet they need less reason than that. Somehow, James had thought leaving school would mean emerging into a more mature world, but adults seem just as petty as teenagers. Maybe pancakes and a good, uplifting chat would do something to take the sting out of Remus’ first week and help prepare him for the next. 
Sirius cuts James a sideways look, gray eyes narrowed. “Breakfast at what time?” 
“I was thinking six, six thirty.” Sirius scoffs, and James grins. “Only joking. How’s eleven?” 
“Still too early,” Sirius grumbles, “but we’ll go.” 
James bobs his head, pleased to have a course of action for helping his friend. “Ask Moons where he feels like going, and just…” He hears a faint, familiar melody. “...just let me know.” 
“Sounds good.” Sirius pushes open the door, but James has stopped. He’s looking back towards the rink, intrigued. “Coming?” 
James waves him off. “In a bit. See you tomorrow.” 
Sirius makes an amused sound, not unused to James’ diversions, and goes. 
James follows the sound of his favorite song, unabashed about bopping his head to the beat as he approaches the rink. He knows figure skaters sometimes use the rink after his hockey practice has wrapped up, and he absolutely has to see who’s choreographed a routine to this. He comes to a stop near the edge of the bleachers, and watches through the tempered glass as one lone skater launches into a turn. 
This wouldn’t be the track James would have thought of for a figure skating routine, but frankly, you’re doing it justice. Your movements are springy and nimble as you glance across the ice, one complicated-looking move to the next to the next. It seems like both skates are never touching the ground for more than half a second. There’s a lot to be said, probably, about your skill, your technique, but James is a philistine. All he can think about is how pretty you look. 
You’re gorgeous. Stunning. Graceful in your movements and seraphim in your countenance. A wisp of hair has freed itself from the confines of the rest and whips about your face, but you don’t seem to notice it, your gaze steady and lips just slightly pursed in concentration. 
James would never tell his friends because they’d mock him to hell and back, but he does believe in love at first sight. Only under particular circumstances, though. The sight has to be good enough—meaning, he has to see some aspect of who that person is behind a pretty face. You certainly do have a pretty face, and you’re dancing to his favorite song, and James doesn’t understand how he could ever be expected to not be totally enamored with you after this one spectacular look. He worries that if you glance over, you’ll see him with giant cartoon hearts boinging out of his eyes on springs. 
The song ends, and you spin to a stop. James’ breathing stops, too, as your gaze lands on a point not ten feet to his right. He wonders if he’s being creepy. It’s not like this is a private rink, and James wouldn’t be weirded out if he spotted someone watching him running drills or something (actually, if it were you he’d be over the moon about it), but he’s been told not everyone feels like he does about that stuff. And though he hardly thinks of himself as intimidating, James is also a big guy. He wants to woo you, not spook you.
You skate to the edge of the rink to restart your music, and James slips out. He hears it blaring softly behind him, and he probably looks like a total idiot when he grins and dances out the front door. An idiot in love.
578 notes · View notes
astrophileous · 8 months
Text
Love Bugs (Pt. 07)
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader
Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?
Warning(s): cursing, mentions and/or depictions of death, near death experience, usage of guns, mentions of injuries resulted from physical violence, mentions of strangulation, pregnancy, somewhat religious undertones (very minor), I think that's all?? Pls inform me if I missed any
Word Count: 3200-ish
Tag(s): @marvelousgoldroses @jay-2s-world @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cat-or-kitten @littleshadow17 @itzz-me-duh @geeksareunique @paisleebubbles @whateverrrrrrrrs @crazyunsexycool @bruher @spiderlillie00 @f1lov3r @louderfortheback @wifeyofeveryone
Author's Note: HI!! I can't believe we're finally at the end of Love Bugs OMG!!! Thank you so much for everyone who has stuck by this series through its ups and downs. I was initially planning to write an additional chapter to close off this story, but I realized that this is the right part to end it. With that said, I am open to taking requests of blurbs/headcannons for Love Bugs if any of you would like to see more from these two. Just send me an ask and I'll make sure to check it out! This story is my very first derek and criminal minds fic altogether, so it's pretty emotional to be saying goodbye to it. Again, thank you so much for reading Love Bugs and I hope you'll be around for any derek/other criminal minds fics I might have in the future ❤️ Don't forget to LIKE+REBLOG+COMMENT 🌹
Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
Tumblr media
Derek knew that letting Hotch take the wheel was a mistake.
He was already marching towards the driver's side back at the HQ's parking lot when the older man had stopped Derek before he could get in.
"Your head is not in the right place right now. The last thing we need is to get into a car accident when (Y/N) desperately needs our help," Hotch had reasoned.
Derek obviously couldn't argue with that.
But Lord, did he wish that he had actually argued with that. He kept internally cursing his boss for not going fast enough. Never mind if the speedometer was teetering towards 60 miles per hour, it still just wasn't fast enough.
A phone call from Spencer and JJ came in around 5 minutes before Derek and Hotch were supposed to reach their destination.
"His new office is empty," Spencer had said. "She's not here."
That new piece of information meant that you were being held either at the UnSub's home--where Emily and Rossi were heading to right at that moment--or the old office building that, according to Garcia, had once belonged to the UnSub's father.
Derek wished that the office was exactly where the UnSub had been holding you all this time. Not because Derek wished to be the one to find you first--of course not, he couldn't care less about that--but just because Derek would prefer it more if he was the one to face the UnSub and point the barrel of his gun at your abductor's head, watching as the fired bullet penetrated his skull before the scumbag dropped dead onto the ground.
As soon as the SVU pulled up to the driveway of the office building, followed by two police cars, Derek wasted no time climbing off his seat and out of the car. His steps were tenacious as he stomped towards the entrance, purposefully ignoring Hotch's frantic calls of his name.
"Hey, wait a minute, Morgan. Slow down."
Derek pushed past a frowning Hotch, fully intent on closing the twenty feet distance between him and the front doors. But Hotch's hand on his shoulder faltered his steps once more, and Derek couldn't rein his anger when he finally decided to face Hotch.
"What the fuck do you want, man?!"
"You can't just barge in there. We need a plan."
"A plan?" Derek scoffed. "She could be dead by the time we draw up your stupid plan."
"Morgan," Hotch's voice came with a warning. "You're not thinking straight--"
"Hell yeah I'm not! (Y/N) could be inside right now, fighting for her life, and you wanna talk plans?" Derek took a step forward, leveling his burning gaze with Hotch's eyes. "You're the one who caused us this mess, Hotch. Do you really want her blood on your hands, too?"
In the many years of him knowing Derek Morgan, Hotch never witnessed such fury in the man's eyes. These were the eyes of a man who had nothing to lose. A man who was ready to sacrifice everything because his whole world was at stake.
"You're staying behind me," Hotch said at last. "Don't do anything rash, or I'll be forced to have you sit this one out."
As much as Derek wasn't satisfied by those conditions, he knew that it was the best option he could have, so he relented.
Under Hotch's command, the group of six split into three pairs as soon as they stepped inside the treshold. They checked every room in the two story building, but they all came up empty. Once they were back outside, Hotch received a phone call from Emily and Rossi.
"There's no sign of them in the house as well," Hotch said, repeating the exact words that Emily had informed him over the phone.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Maybe he's taken her some place else. I'll call Garcia and see if she can pull up any other potential location."
As Hotch waited for the tech-analyst to answer, Derek began darting his eyes over the entire building once more. None of it made any sense. He knew that it was impossible, but something told him that you were close. You were nearby. Just a sliver away from his reach.
It felt like he had been staring at the building for an eternity when it finally dawned on him.
"Hotch," Derek called out, feet already moving again towards the front door, "this building has a basement."
Derek didn't wait for a response as he barged inside.
Behind him, the other five people scrambled to catch up with his pace. Derek went to recheck all of the rooms in that building, banging on suspicious looking panels on the wall and testing the integrity of the floor beneath him.
A clanking sound in the distance eventually tore his attention away. The mysterious noise was soon followed by a shout from one of the uniformed officers.
"We found this," the officer reported as soon as Hotch and Derek stepped into the furthest room in the building.
On the ground, a rusty metal bookcase lied haphazardly. Right behind it, a wooden panel on the wall was gaping. Derek locked eyes with Hotch, a silent confirmation, before Hotch nudged the panel wider with his shoulder.
The hidden room led to a flight of stairs leading them down towards a dingy basement. Hotch motioned for everyone to follow him as he stealthily moved towards a metal door on the far side of one of the walls. As Hotch grabbed its handle, Derek tightened the hold he had on his gun.
Everything else had transpired in a blur.
Derek only recalled seeing that horrific scene playing out in front of him for less than a split second--the image of that bastard putting his filthy hands on you--before his instinct kicked in. Two bullets from his gun; one to the shoulder and one more to the neck.
Derek barely even registered the gurgling sounds the UnSub was making as he rushed towards you.
Derek's heart was glass as he knelt by the chair, each piece shattering against his insides with every mark, cut, and bruise that he could see littering your skin. He still remembered the feeling of your naked skin under his fingertips. Soft and tender, like frosting on a cake. But now?
Now, it looked dull and lifeless.
With heart in his throat, Derek moved to touch your limp form. "Bug?"
No answer.
"Hey, (Y/N)? It's me. I'm here, Bug, please open your eyes," he pleaded. "Wake up, sweetheart."
The pressure in Derek's chest inflated. His palm felt ice on your face. His fingers around your wrist scrambled for any sign of life he could find, but there was none.
"Hotch! Hotch, she's not breathing!" Derek called out, a sentence made out of nightmares. "Help me get this off!"
It felt like an eternity until Hotch was able to hand Derek the metal cutter, which they then used to free you of your restrains. Your body slumped instantly into Derek's arms the moment they cut off the last metal cuff, and Derek tried not to dwell over the fact that you felt stiff and cold against him.
"You're okay, sweetheart," he murmured as he laid you down on the ground. "Come on, you're okay."
Those words kept repeating themselves over and over again as he started doing compressions on your chest. Prayers towards a God he hadn't spoken to for a while also slipped past his lips. Prayers for a miracle. Prayers for the heavens to allow Derek to take your place instead. Prayers for the universe to please, let him have more time with you, please, please, please.
"Morgan." Hotch's hand fell on his shoulder, but Derek never faltered. He kept on pumping your chest, willing for your heart--his heart--to start beating once more. "Morgan, the paramedics are here."
Reluctantly, Derek let himself be dragged away from you, giving room for the first responders to do their job. As he looked down upon his hands, Derek noticed that they had been shaking. Violently.
"Please be careful," Hotch spoke up. "She's pregnant."
"Clear," one of the paramedics announced before another one pressed the shock button on the defibrillator.
Derek stared helplessly at the flat line shown on the heart monitor.
"Again. Clear."
Every second that passed by was an inch of blade through his chest. Every second you teetered closer towards death was also his life undoing right in front of his eyes.
Derek thought it was over. His world was crumbling to ash all around him, stripping down the colors until all he could see was gray. He was standing on the brink of its wreckage when suddenly, he heard one of the paramedics yell, "We got a pulse!"
And just like that, Derek's knees gave out underneath him.
"Morgan!" Hotch caught Derek's shoulders, keeping him up before the younger man could collapse completely on the floor. "Hey, she's okay. She's gonna be okay."
Derek could only nod his head in response. Words tasted like lead on his tongue as he struggled to catch his breath. Tears streamed down his face like a burst dam after a rainstorm.
For a second there, Derek thought his world was ending.
But as he stared feebly at the paramedics wheeling your body away, Derek couldn't stop thanking the universe for giving him another chance. One more chance to be with you. One more chance to make things right.
This time, Derek was not going to let it go to waste.
Tumblr media
Darkness was peaceful.
In the darkness, you were nothing.
But you had always wanted to be something.
With a heavy heart, you made the decision to say goodbye, to come back to the life that had been your constant for the past decades. To a world that, beneath all of the bad things you had witnessed in it, still had some good worth mentioning, too.
Like Derek Morgan, for example.
Despite everything that happened, you could never deny that Derek was a rare example of good in the world. And he was exactly the person who occupied your mind when you gradually regained your consciousness, letting yourself amble further from the promises you had rejected from the darkness.
When you finally opened your eyes, it felt like your body had been dragged through much more than mere mud.
Fluorescent lights blinded you almost instantly. You turned your head in order to escape the onslaught, but the pain radiating through your entire body made you whimper instead.
"(Y/N)." A gentle hand landed on your shoulder. "Hey, you're awake."
You blinked away the fog that had gathered in your vision, trying to make out the silhouette in front of you until it morphed into a recognizable face.
"JJ?"
"Yeah, it's me." She smiled. "How're you feeling?"
"Not particularly great."
JJ breathed out a laugh. "I figured."
You groaned quietly as you shifted yourself to a new position, JJ jumping in to help even before you asked her to.
"What happened, J?" you questioned once you had settled comfortably.
"I think that's a talk for later, (Y/N). For now, you need to rest."
"Please--" you grabbed onto JJ's wrist, "--I want to know. The last thing I remember was... was..."
Being strangled.
That was the last thing you remembered before everything went dark.
JJ's eyes flashed with understanding. "You were barely alive when help arrived. It was a miracle that Hotch and Derek got there when they did."
"Derek?"
The smile JJ gave you was full of hidden meanings. She gestured with her head towards the other end of the room, towards the direction you hadn't even once inspected since you woke up. A worn down couch stood against the wall, and on top of it, cramping himself into a position that was surely not comfortable, was the person you had been hoping to see since you opened your eyes in that dingy basement.
Derek.
He was sleeping with his arm draped over his eyes. He must have been tired, you thought. Or otherwise, he wouldn't have been sleeping so soundly in such an awkward position.
"How long was I out?"
"About two days." You couldn't hide your shock when you looked at JJ. "He never left, (Y/N). He refused to leave your side."
JJ's revelation compelled your eyes to stray towards Derek once more. You missed him. You were still missing him even when he was there, in the same room as you were, safe and sound.
As if she could dissect the content of your head, JJ spoke up again, "Do you want me to wake him up?"
"No, please. He needs the rest."
"Pretty sure he needs to see you more than he needs his sleep, (Y/N)."
Ignoring your protests, JJ circled the bed and approached the run-down couch in the corner. You watched with a drum in your chest as JJ gently shook Derek awake, smiling to yourself when you see him open his eyes blearily.
"Someone wants to see you," JJ informed, nodding her head in your direction.
It was as though a switch had been flipped somewhere inside of him. The moment Derek saw your eyes looking at him, any trace of exhaustion he was previously feeling automatically dissolved in a heartbeat.
"I'll better step outside," JJ announced, already retreating towards the exit. "The others would want to know you're awake."
With JJ's departure, the atmosphere in the room instantly shifted.
Before you could process what was happening, Derek had seemingly transported to your side. Now up close, you finally saw the lines of fatigue etching on his face. His muscular shoulders drooped slightly as if the weight of the universe was forcing him to forfeit his energy little by little.
Sitting by the bed, Derek looked hesitant as his hand hovered over your own. You eventually took matters into your own hand, tangling your fingers around his until there was no room for escape.
"I've missed you," you confessed.
A watery laugh rumbled past his chest. In his eyes, a cloud of tears had begun to build. He stared at you with such fervent. The person who owned his heart, the one he thought would take it away from him to the grave.
"You scared me," Derek confessed as well. "I thought you were gone for good."
"It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me," you tried to joke, which, judging by the expression on Derek's face, was not something he appreciated very much. "Wait. Derek, the baby--"
"Is fine," he cut you off, preventing you from spiraling any further. "The doctor said they need to monitor both of your conditions for a few days. But for now, the baby is fine. So are you."
You released an appeased breath before dropping your head back on the pillow.
"How long have you known?" Derek suddenly asked.
The question was inevitable. You knew sooner or later it would come up, but that didn't mean you were not still taken back when it did.
"A couple of weeks," you replied. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"I understand why you didn't." Derek smiled ruefully. "After everything I said to you--"
"We both said or did something we regret."
"Yeah. Me more than anyone."
"Derek--"
"No, Bug. You gotta hear me out." Derek took a deep breath, the frown between his eyebrows deepening as he stared straight into your soul. "I want you to know. I want to make sure that you understand how sorry I am for everything. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I'm sorry I said all of those horrible things back in Iowa. But most importantly, I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to tell you the truth.
"The truth?"
"I love you, Bug."
Your heart skipped a beat.
"I love you," he emphasized. "I don't know when it started, if it was before or after our arrangement began. I just know that I do. These past few days have been hell for me, Bug. I've watched all kinds of nightmares imaginable in the years I spent on this job, but none of them compare to what I felt when you were gone."
A stray tear escaped from Derek's eye, constricting your chest even further than ever.
It was the first time you had ever seen him cry.
"I understand if you want nothing to do with me after this. But whatever you want, I promise that I'll be there. For both of you." Derek's palm landed on your belly, right on top of the small bump that had just started to grow. "In any capacity you allow me."
Your whole body erupted in goosebumps following Derek's admission. His sincerity rendered you speechless. It seemed like hours later when you could finally find your voice again.
"Did you mean all of that?"
"Every word."
"Good. Because I love you, too."
Derek's expression faltered ever so slightly.
"I want every capacity you have, Derek. I want every part of you, every part you're willing to give because I need you. We both do."
Derek's smile, despite the tear streaks on his face, was the definition of relief and joy. He kissed your knuckles a million little times before leaning forward to claim your lips. It was a breath of fresh air to have his lips on yours after such a long time apart. Even then, Derek was still familiar. He tasted of home.
Hours later, the rest of the team stopped by to check on your condition and to congratulate the two of you over the little life that was soon to become the newest member of the BAU family. Once the crowd had dispersed, your hospital room fell quiet once again.
In the midst of that comfortable silence, you persistently tried to convince Derek to go to sleep in his own bed for the night.
"I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."
"Derek--"
"Do you really think after what happened, I'm just gonna let you out of my sight? Hell no. I'm sleeping here. End of discussion."
"It's just one night, Derek. I'll be fine," you assured him. "You can't possibly be comfortable on that tiny couch. You should go home and get some decent sleep."
"The only way I can get a decent sleep is by making sure you're safe, Bug. So, please--" he tugged the blanket higher around your body, "--stop your yapping and get some rest."
You eventually yielded into Derek's incessant commands and allowed yourself to relax, not before giving him a very defiant pout that earned you one sweet kiss from the man.
It didn't take long for sleep to take over your body. But even once you had fallen into a very deserved slumber, Derek couldn't find it in himself to close his eyes. After the tornado that these past few days had been, a love confession from you was the best reprieve that someone like him could ever dream of. It still seemed so surreal that a part of him feared going to sleep just for the tiniest bit of chance that everything had, in fact, been a dream.
So, for one night, Derek figured that sleep could definitely wait.
For one night, Derek would spend his time thanking whatever higher power had listened to his prayers and sent you safely back into his arms.
The love of his life. The center of his universe.
His Pretty Bug.
Along with the Little Bug that was still growing life inside of your belly.
506 notes · View notes
kyamo18 · 3 months
Text
Well, yes, I wanted to draw this as a short story.... Maybe I will do that in the future, but with different events.
On the planet Cybertron, in the darkest point, an isolated laboratory where a genius scientist was standing, alone in front of his computer screens, observing.
(Keyboard pressing sounds followed by tired sighs)
“The world has reviewed its experiments with the Thousand-Year Cybertronian State over and over again and over again...”
The fate of all geniuses is solitude with their research and work... Focus Shockwave "The world is talking to itself"
Shockwave : If I use the golden square formula instead of the golden triangle...
“Someone is watching from afar and quietly approaching.”
Shockwave : No no no this won't work maybe I should use more amgaspark
"Shockwave was at his peak until someone placed his hand on his large metal chest."
Shockwave : Aahhhh.... What!?
*He looks behind him and sees his work companion, an intelligence officer*
Shockwave : Soundwave?... what are you doing here?
Soundwave : I got some free time from our leader
Shockwave : This is not the answer to my question! Why are your hands pressing on my chest?
Soundwave : I just feel cold... Your chest emits so much heat that it is suitable as a heating source
Shockwave : illogical! You have indoor heating and you haven't told me why you're here yet
Soundwave : It's broken... *moves his hands away from his chest shockwave* Does it bother you that I'm here?
Shockwave : *turns around and speaks to him face to face* If that's the case, I can fix you...and no, it doesn't bother me that you're here.
Soundwave : Negative....shockwave You don't look well...Did I harass you?
Shockwave : *He walks away to pick up his work tools* No... it's not you that's bothering me
Soundwave : Do you want to talk about it?....humans here call it "heart talk"
Shockwave : It doesn't make sense. We don't have hearts. *Ends preparing his tools*
Soundwave : Positive... You're right, but we have sparks
Shockwave : This doesn't change anything soundwave... You have to stop likening our complex lives to the simple lives of humans
*Soundwave pushes Shockwave to the ground and becomes on top of him*
Shockwave : uuuhhhh.... Soundwave?
Soundwave : Who told you that human life is simple? Or is it less complicated than our lives?
Shockwave : Oh, didn't you like my opinion? *speaks arrogantly*
Soundwave : Negative... shockwave, you are not well. It is not your habit to say things without support by a scientific experiment
Shockwave : And what do you know about me *looks to the other side*
Soundwave : *comes closer to Shockwave's face* You know I can read your thoughts
Shockwave : Well... good luck finding something inside my head full of equations
soundwave: I admit it's not easy when you think about numbers... but I can tell you feel lonely
"Shockwave finally looks at Soundwave's face which was very close to him"
Shockwave : soundwave....you're so close
Soundwave : Positive...you feel lonely then! So you needs attention *comes closer and presses his body against Shockwave's*
Shockwave : What you're doing is illogical...
Soundwave : But it works *hand caresses shockwave*
Shockwave : soundwave... /////
Soundwave : Your body reacts perfectly. You love this
24 notes · View notes
anincompletelist · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
2023 year in review :D
THANK YOU @kiwiana-writes for always including me <3 I adore you and it was so much fun to see all that you've accomplished this year!
Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. There are no rules!
Tumblr media
233, 369 words published to ao3 (+ like another 80k depending on when bridesmaids is posted hehe)
2 published fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue (book), One Direction (soldouthaz)
most recent work: this guy, the prequel to this dude <3
longest published fic: (for rwrb) praying our bridges don't make waves (82k)
longest published oneshot: Sure As the Stars in the Sky (20k)
Tumblr media
bridesmaids is currently at 75k
hitman au is currently at 15k
speak easy / poet henry is currently at 20k
diabetic alex au is currently at 7k
part two of this fic (dom!alex) is currently at 5k
+ about another 60k of random drabbles and unfinished snippets
Tumblr media
but if you could see us from a distance, you'd know I've always been so close to you (E, 10k, 743 kudos)
Objectively, standing half-soaked from rainwater with a stitch in his side and an uncomfortable, raging hard-on outside his worst enemy’s door is not Henry’s finest moment. It’s not even on the list. [or, henry is afflicted with a curse-gone-wrong that stipulates that only his sworn enemy, alex claremont-diaz, can touch him.]
praying our bridges don't make waves (E, 82k, 642 kudos)
When June gets sick, Alex knows he'll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets the care that she needs. Even if that means convincing his nemesis/sexuality-crisis-inducing/clandestine hook-up partner/somewhat of an actual friend to pretend to be his soulmate in order to pull it off. It's both more and less complicated than it sounds.
I'll bet it all on me and you, I'll bet it all you're bulletproof (M, 11k, 527 kudos)
“Let’s do this,” he says. “Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.” This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common senseskills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate. They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.
Tumblr media
total kudos: 4,495
total comment threads: 449
total bookmarks: 1,922
total subscriptions: 292
total word count: 223, 369.
total hits: 53, 676
Tumblr media
firstprince first kisses (6 works, 57k, incomplete/ongoing)
the place lightning hits ground (1 work, 12k, incomplete)
everybody needs someone (2 works, 24k, completed)
Tumblr media
current wips that have word counts:
bridesmaids au
hitman alex
poet henry
diabetic alex au
truman show au
boxer alex au
soft dom henry for this series
part 2 of soft dom alex for this series too
current wips that are on the to-do list:
happiest season au
rival wineries au
alex is medusa, henry is midas
museum guide henry / substitute teacher alex
+ sooooo many little unrelated one shot and drabble ideas and more for this series
Tumblr media
I just posted this fic earlier today:
take my hand if you can take me as i am (E, 14k)
It would hurt less, Alex guesses, if he wasn’t head over heels for the guy he’s supposed to be fucking through an ancient one-sided sex curse with that was partially — a lot, actually — his own fault. But. It’s not like there’s a fucking handbook. Alex has looked.
and bridesmaids is in the final stretch and will most likely begin posting early january, if not the end of this month!
Tumblr media
my ao3
my spotify
tags:
general fic recs + reblogs
my rec lists
fic rec fridays
my wips + updates/snippets
my edits
Tumblr media
oh boy okay first off PLEASE DO NOT FEEL OBLIGATED TO DO THIS but also I would LOVE to give all of ya'll a chance to brag on yourselves if you're up for it!
so consider this an OPEN TAG but also @affectionatelyrs @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @happiness-of-the-pursuit @raysletters @heybuddy-drabbles @rockyroadkylers @sparklepocalypse @zwiazdziarka @littlemisskittentoes @getmehighonmagic @magicandarchery and anyone else who would like to do this! pls tag me so I can come scream at you (affectionately!)
I'm so ridiculously grateful for you guys and for this space to create and connect in, and I can't wait to take all of this lovely energy into next year as well. I'm so excited for everything we all have coming! :D
I hope you guys are all doing well!
-sarah / anincompletelist
xx
21 notes · View notes
snelbz · 1 year
Text
‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Seventeen}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab.
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
A/N: The moment you’ve all been waiting for. Enjoy. 😏
Tumblr media
This chapter is 18+.
Elide —
The calls with Yrene have been happening less frequently as time goes on, but today, I’m sitting in front of my laptop, waiting for her to pop up. It’s me and Lorcan’s one month anniversary. I woke up this morning to a table full of breakfast. There was so much food that there was no way we could have finished it, but it was beautiful. He had flowers in the middle of the table and mimosas made to perfection. It was such a sweet gesture and by the end of breakfast I was stuffed silly and a little tipsy, which I found to be a combination that I liked.
Now, Yrene’s picture pops up on the screen and I waste no time as I accept the call.
She’s smiling, like always. “Good afternoon, Elide.”
“Good afternoon,” I smile, and fidget with my hands in my lap. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” She laughs quietly. “The better question is, how are you?”
“Good,” I say, and mean it. “Great, actually.”
“I hope you’re referring both to yourself individually and with your husband,” she says.
I nod. “Things have been going really, really well. There’s definitely an attraction between us now. Things seem to be getting easier and easier by the day.”
Yrene remains quiet for a moment, like she’s waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, her head cocks to the side. “But?”
Hesitating, I blink. “How do you know there’s a but?”
Yrene’s soft laughter is genuine and makes me feel comfortable around her. “Elide, in our chats, there is always a but.”
She has me there. Although things between Lorcan and me have been going great, I do always seem to have a but. It’s in my DNA. My brain is always searching for the con. 
“I don’t know.” I sigh. “I don’t know exactly how he feels about me and it’s frustrating. Sometimes I get a feel for his emotions, but most of the time I’m just guessing what’s going on inside of his brain. Men are complicated…especially when they’re incapable of sharing their emotions.”
Yrene nods thoughtfully. “So, am I correct in assuming you have yet to have sex?”
After nibbling on my lip for a moment, I shake my head. “No, we haven’t.”
“Because you’re not sure how he feels about you?” she pushes.
“Exactly. I mean, I want to. I’ve been at that place for a little while now, wanting to have sex with him, but I just want it to be the right time.” It was the first time I’m saying it out loud and I realize how much I really do want him, especially after last week. “I want us both to have more intimate feelings, I want it to mean something.”
“And you’re telling me that you already have those feelings?” she asks, voice kind. “That you’re ready?”
“Yes,” I admit, and I’m confident in it. Even though I’m not so confident in exactly what it is that Lorcan’s feeling. “It’s not that Lorcan isn’t good to me. He’s so good to me. In fact, I’ve been surprised at what a good man he is. I just… I don’t know. I almost feel like, sometimes, he just wants the physical from me but he wants to avoid the emotional. You know? The physical stuff…he’s good at that. But I need more of the emotional from him. I want a deep, emotional connection.” 
Yrene processes what I’m saying, taking a few notes,  before she meets my eye again. “It seems that you two have different love languages. However, they’re not so different that they cannot coincide. It all has to do with how you convey your emotions.”
I frown. “I’m not following.”
“I can’t tell you what Lorcan and I talk about, but I can tell you that he may be expressing how he feels, he simply isn’t doing it the same way that you do, so you may be missing it.” I’m having a hard time making sense of what she’s saying and when I say nothing, she continues. “You two need to learn each other’s love languages and work on finding a common ground.” When I hesitate, she laughs quietly and puts it into simpler terms. “There are a lot of things you could be doing, intimately, without having actual intercourse, Elide.” My cheeks heat as I think about what he did for me in the bath last week, but I don’t say anything. “Maybe that's what he needs. He could possibly, just maybe, be assuming you don't have feelings for him because you're not giving him the type of attention he requires. Just like you feel he's not giving you what you need.”
I nod slowly. “I guess you could be right.”
She laughs and her smile is genuine. “This is what I do, after all… I think you both need to give a little, specifically you need to let your walls down some. You are married, after all, and intimacy is important in a marriage. While I completely respect you trying to guard your heart and body, I have a feeling that making love with him is only going to bring you closer together. And if what you’re telling me is true, whether you sleep with him or not, if things don’t end well, it sounds like you’re going to have your heart broken anyways. It would be unfortunate if you had to question things afterward, that maybe things didn't go as well as they should have because you both left this huge, important part out of your marriage. The whole idea of this experiment is to put yourself into it one hundred percent.”
Reluctantly, I nod, and I swear, I can see a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Okay. I see what you mean. If this was over tomorrow, and he decided he didn’t want to stay married, I wouldn’t blame him. But I would miss him and I’d be pretty pissed at myself for ruining what we had. The last thing I want is to push him away.”
“Then I think you need to try to spice things up a little, see how it goes. Try to remember you both answered a lot of intimate, personal questions in your written interviews, and we had our reasons when we put you together. I know it might not seem obvious to you right now, but try to trust us, okay?”
“You’re right.” I sigh and pick at a hangnail. “I'm sorry if we’ve been difficult.”
She waves her hand at me. “Don't you dare apologize. That’s what this is all about. You two are by far our most unique couple in the experiment, and you both have been incredibly honest in your chats. So, thank you for that. I know it can get uncomfortable for you at times.”
That was an understatement.
She asks a few more questions, making sure I’ve still been writing in my journal like I’m supposed to before we hang up.
I hadn’t thought about Lorcan needing to be loved differently than I do. While I need him to tell me how he feels, he seems to be more of a show, not tell kind of person. I have no idea how to go about confirming that.
A personality quiz?
I consider the simplicity of the idea, sure that I could find something online, as I head down to the basement to move the laundry over to the dryer. I’ve got a few orders I need to fill, so I head for the stairs, but I notice the door to Lorcan’s workout room is open.
And so is his journal, sitting on one of the benches.
I freeze and a full-on internal war is raging in my head. I know I shouldn’t look, Yrene just told me in our video chat that she couldn’t tell me anything he’d told her.
But it’s right there, and there are things I’ve written in my journal that I definitely haven’t told Yrene about.
I enter the gym, pushing the door the rest of the way open. I cringe when the hinges squeak, even though I know he’s at Vaughn’s getting work done on a new tattoo. He shouldn’t be home for a couple hours at least.
I pick up the soft, leather journal, loving that we both opted to go the handwritten route, rather than just the notes app on our phones or something impersonal like that. The page I’m looking at is blank, but I can tell there’s something written on the one before.
Taking a deep breath, I decide I’ll just read the most recent page. That’s it.
I don't know how to break through the walls she has up. I know she's still scared. I know I've done things to fuck up and my past is shitty. But I've tried to make up for the stuff I've done. I'm not good at talking about my feelings. I try to show them, but I'm not sure it's working. It's like she's clueless about how much she already means to me. I wish she would do something, anything, to show me that she actually wants me. I did this to feel wanted and loved for who I am and what I can give, but fuck, I'm lost. I know she cares about me, but I'm struggling with getting closer to her. I've never been the touchy-feely type, but somehow she's got me doing that stuff. But I want more. Maybe I'm a dick, but sex is important to me. It's just important in a different way with her. I have no idea what I'm even saying anymore. I'm afraid the longer this goes on, we're never going to be more than roommates that tease each other sometimes. I'm not sure where my wife is in all this or how to get her to come out.
My hands are shaking as I put the journal back, just like I found it. My eyes blur with tears as I hurry from the room and back upstairs, laundry king forgotten.
And here I thought he just wanted my body. He wants more, just like I do.
This proves we have a long way to go in our marriage. We have some serious communication issues that we’ll have to work through, and I think that’s why we’re both so confused. I don’t like talking about my feelings and he doesn’t know how.
Forget the online quizzes, forget love languages.
I know exactly what will show Lorcan how I feel.
Lorcan —
Fuck, that feels good.
It’s a little after one in the morning when I’m woken up, or so the clock in the dresser across the room tells me. I’m a pretty light sleeper and it’s not unusual for me to constantly be waking up in the middle of the night, especially when I’m sharing a bed with Elide who moves around nonstop in her sleep, but usually I’m not woken up like this.
What I initially think is another damned sex dream is reality. My body shifts as I groggily open my eyes to my dick hard and satisfied.
There’s not many feelings greater than having a beautiful woman sucking your cock.
Fuck.
The realization has me wide awake and looking down, where Elide is settled between my legs, her mouth taking in the length of me. I can see her perfectly clear, even with the lights off. At first, I think I’m still dreaming but I really fucking hope I’m not.
Even though I’ve had this dream multiple times and it always ends so damn good.
“Elide.” My voice is low and gravelly, rough from sleep. She looks up at me through dark lashes and grabs my base as her lips move up my cock.
“Shit,” I hiss, and I’m almost frozen in place out of both shock and excitement. I don’t want to jinx it, whether it’s a dream or not. Her free hand grips my thigh and her nails dig into my skin as her mouth comes free of me.
Looking me dead in the eye, she smiles and it’s something between sultry and shy that sets my whole body on fire. Her tongue slowly glides over the swollen head and I curse again. 
My head falls back against my pillow as she takes my cock back in her mouth and starts bobbing her head. It’s warm and wet and every so often, her teeth graze my shaft. It’s exactly what I fucking like and I’ve never even told her.
My mind races back to this evening and the time before we went to bed. We ordered in and I picked it up on my way in from Vaughn’s. We watched a movie and made out a little, but I didn’t even so much as try to touch her boobs. And then we went to bed, and she fell asleep on my chest, just like she does every night. What did I do or say to entice her to finally touch me on her own? I come up blank.
I don’t fucking care what it was, not as her tongue swirls around the tip, feeling like wet velvet. I fist a handful of hair, getting it out of her face so I can watch as she goes down on me, mesmerized as I watch my cock disappear in her sweet mouth. She sucks me like she does everything else, soft and sweet at first, teasing me. As she works up to taking more of me, her free hand squeezes the base at the same time her teeth hit me again.
I hiss, my hold on her hair tightening, and her eyes fall closed as she moans. That sexy moan vibrates around my dick and I damn near blow my load right there, but I manage to hold it off, cupping the side of her face.
With her eyes still shut, Elide starts taking me deeper and deeper with each pass. When I feel the head of my dick bump the back of her throat, I’m powerless to stop the groan that tumbles from my lips. “Fuck, baby.”
My murmured praise spurs her on, which I fucking love. She doesn’t try to swallow my cock again, though I’m willing to let her try whenever she wants to give it a shot. Instead, she grasps the base, wrapping her hand around me and moving it up and down in perfect unison with her mouth, creating a long, wet tunnel for me to slide in and out of.
Her eyes meet mine and it’s almost as if I can read her mind.
Go ahead.
My other hand finds the other side of her head and I lift my hips, thrusting up into her waiting mouth.
I nearly lose control as her eyes roll back in her head. Every time I have imagined what this would look like, it hadn’t even come close to this, the real thing. She’s absolutely gorgeous with my cock in her mouth.
I thrust up again, and her tongue is going wild. I know I can’t hold on too much longer. My heart is about to explode from the anticipation. I set a steady pace, careful not to be too rough. I know my full strength and don’t want to scare her away, not just after she decides she finally wants to have her way with me.
I feel myself reaching that point the more I thrust myself in and out of her mouth. My calm, steady pace grows a little quicker and she moans again and again. I practically growl, every curse I can think of falling from my mouth as she grabs my balls and squeezes.
“I’m gonna cum,” I say, in case she wants to pull her mouth away.
She doesn’t.
Thank the fucking gods.
I shoot off into her mouth and she takes it all in with pride. A drip falls out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin as I work out my release. I can’t even speak, can hardly breathe.
When I’m done, her lips leave my dick and she swallows.
If I wasn’t already married to her, I would have asked her right then and there.
She catches the drip running down her chin with a finger and when she licks it clean, I grab her shoulders and haul her up my body, crashing my mouth against hers.
That was the best surprise, middle of the night blow job I’ve ever had, and believe it or not, I’ve had a few.
Hell, that might have been the best blow job I’ve ever had, period.
My hands cup her ass as I devour her mouth, my tongue brushing along hers. She bites my bottom lip and tugs, making me groan.
“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe when her teeth release my lip and she rests her forehead against mine. “That was…”
“Good?” She asks, biting her own lip now. She looks shy and sweet and sexy all at the same time.
“Beyond good,” I murmur, rolling us until she’s under me, my hips nestled between hers. My cock is still out, growing harder again by the second, despite my orgasm not even sixty seconds ago. There’s nothing between us but the little, cotton boyshort panties she wore to bed. “Beyond great even. Amazing.”
Her eyes are shimmering and it almost looks like she’s about to cry when she leans up and captures my mouth in a bruising kiss.
Elide has never kissed me like this. She’s kissed me softly and sweetly, she’s teased me with her kisses. I’ve even had her needy, horny kisses. But this…
She’s kissing me with a purpose.
And I don’t want to get my hopes up.
I’m aching to rip off her t-shirt and panties and get in that tight, little body, but I stop myself, not wanting to screw up whatever headway we’ve suddenly made. She just took a huge step out of her comfort zone to give me the best blow job of my life, so I don’t want to push my luck. Instead, while we kiss, I let my hands explore, touching, grabbing, squeezing, until Elide spreads her legs a little wider of her own accord.
I feel the heat of her through her panties the same second she feels me grinding my hard on against her. We both freeze, staring at each other, panting.
I have never wanted someone as badly as I want Elide. I want her mind, body, and soul. One part isn’t enough for me, I need all of her.
She puts a hand on my chest and I pause, thinking she’s pushing me away. But she says, “Lorcan, you’re shaking.”
Shit, I guess I am. “Yeah.”
She’s blinking up at me, framing my face in her hands. “Are you okay, what’s wrong?”
The words tumble out before I can stop. “I want to be the man you need, the man you want. I’m trying, it’s just…hard. This is such a different life than I’ve ever had, but it’s exactly what I wanted. What I needed. I just want to deserve you. I keep waiting to fuck something else up.”
“Lor, you haven’t fucked anything up.” Her arms wrap around my neck tugging me down so my body is flush with hers, almost completely covering it. It feels so right. “We didn’t have the best beginning to our marriage, but that’s the past. What matters is where we go from here.”
I nod and she kisses me, ensuring I believe her words. She starts to move beneath me, rubbing against my cock which is almost painfully hard again at this point. My hips start to grind in a slow, seductive circle against her as I run my hand down the length of her body, hooking my finger in the edge of her panties and tugging them down a few inches.
Her eyes flare in the darkness and her arms around my shoulders tighten. I tug them down a little bit more until I glimpse what lies beneath. I have to see it, I’ve waited long enough with only my imagination to hold me over.
My imagination did not do it justice.
I push myself back on my knees and Elide remains perfectly still against our pillows as I slip her panties down until they’re no longer a barrier. She opens her legs for me and I swallow. Her pretty, pink pussy greets me, and I can’t help but notice how smooth it is, as if she knew I’d be seeing it tonight.
She’s perfect.
I want to touch it.
I want to taste it, taste her.
I can hardly form a thought as I settle myself between her thighs and it looks even more beautiful up close. I take my thumbs and part her folds, memorizing every inch of all she has to offer. Above me, I don’t think Elide is breathing but I look up to find her watching me, cheeks flushed and lips parted. Another day I’ll have my fucking feast, I’ll lay her down and devour her, but right now…I have to be inside of her. My cock needs its release. It needs her.
I have to have just a taste, though. I can’t help it. I run my tongue between her folds as she gasps, then take her clit between my teeth and she whimpers. These little sounds of hers will be my undoing, my salvation. I suck it in for just a second and play with her with my tongue, and she’s so fucking wet that I can feel it on my chin. To no surprise, she tastes sweet as hell. Just as her hips begin to shift, as they begin to grind into my mouth, I’m back up on my knees.
I push my sweatpants down the rest of the way and her breathing hitches as she watches me become completely nude. It’s a silent request that she grants me as she sits up and lifts her arms.
With gentle hands, I take the hem of her t-shirt and pull it up over her head before tossing it aside, not giving a fuck where it goes. 
I don’t move any closer.
I stare at the masterpiece before me.
Her entire body is perfection. I’ve seen glimpses here and there, especially in that bikini in the cabin, and seeing it is a dream come true.
But those tits.
Those fucking tits.
If the research team got one thing right from my application, it was this.
I’ve done nothing but dream of them since the day I met her. And it turns out my imagination is shit, because my wife’s breasts are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I don’t ask, I don’t say anything, I just lean down, taking one of her peaked rosy nipples into my mouth, my fingers finding the other. It’s heavy in my hand and I have the sudden image of my cock sliding between them.
Someday, maybe, but not tonight.
Elide whimpers as my mouth moves to her other breast, my teeth gently tugging on the sensitive nub. Her hand slips into my hair, tugging me up until her mouth is fused with mine. 
After a minute of kissing, my restraint is hanging by a thread. I break the kiss.
“Elide…” I breathe, my voice desperate for her, my lips lingering on hers. I want her so badly.
“Yes,” she whispers, answering my unasked questions. “Lor, I want you, please.”
Restraint? Snapped.
Our bodies somehow get closer, melding together as soon as the words have left her lips. I press my cock against her warm folds and kiss her lips hungrily. “You're sure?” I whisper between kisses. “Please be sure…”
She reaches down between our bodies and palms my cock, rubbing the head against her wet entrance. I grab her hand from between us and pin it above her head, entwining her fingers with mine. My mouth claims hers again as I slowly push my cock into her, causing her to gasp against my lips.
I’m aware of my size. I’m also aware of hers. Although I have no doubt she can take me, I start out slow, gentle. There’s something intimate about it, that gentleness. I’ve never taken my time with a woman before. Now, I’m kissing Elide, trying my best to ease any discomfort while I hold her hand in mine as I slowly inch my way inside of her. I don’t ease in all the way, just enough for her to get used to me, and then I’m pulling my way back out and repeating the motion. With each pass, I go a little bit faster, a little bit deeper, until I set a slow, steady pace. Everytime I push my way inside of her, she gasps, but her lips never leave mine.
My free hand grabs her knee and drapes her leg over my ass. Her body moves with mine, perfectly in sync. 
I don’t know what I’ve been doing for the last decade. There has never been a time that I’ve been with a woman and it’s felt like this. With Elide, there’s something deeper going on. It actually means something to be here with her, wrapped in my arms as I take my time fucking her. I know it when she looks at me and an unspoken conversation flows between us. I can feel everything she’s feeling, can sense everything she has to say, and I mirror every word, every emotion. 
Sliding my hand up her curves, I palm her breast as I kiss her again. My tongue finds hers and she moans into my mouth. It sets me off. With a snap of my hips, I’m in her to the hilt, my cock unable to go any further. Her moan is louder this time, seductive and proud. I love that she’s vocal in bed. It makes me want to see just how loud I can make her. Next time, I won’t hold back.
This time, our first time, I just want it to be something that she’ll remember. I want her to know that I care, that this isn’t just about sex for me.
This connection between us, this has nothing to do with actual sex and everything to do with us tearing down our walls and finally becoming one. A truce, of sorts, of throwing our hearts in the air and hoping the other doesn’t miss it, letting it shatter to the ground.
I push her hair back off her face, wanting to see everything she feels. Her eyes are bright, her mouth open, lips parted in ecstasy. I look down, between our bodies, where we’re joined. The way my cock disappears inside of her in the most erotic thing over ever seen. She feels like heaven wrapped around me.
Her hips start to slowly move with me, her fingers of her free hand digging into the muscles of my ass and hips as small moans and sighs tumble from her lips. I let her set the pace and depth, wanting her to find her own release. Next time, I’ll make her cum so many times, she won’t remember her own name. She won’t remember any name but mine, but tonight, I want her to find that sweet spot and let go. And when she does, her walls contract fiercely around me and she hugs me tighter to her, whispering my name as I cum right alongside her.
My mouth finds hers in a slow, sleepy kiss, our tongues lazily stroking each other, as our breathing calms and settles, despite my cock still being buried inside her. I don’t know how long we stay like that, but when we pull apart, my lips are on her throat, her jaw, her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead—the need to make her feel cherished and to know that that wasn’t just sex for me. That it was more. I need to make sure she doesn’t regret what we’d just done, that she doesn’t regret finally tearing down her walls and letting me in. I’m guilty of not really being a gentle or sweet lover, especially when it comes to aftercare, but she makes me want to be.
We lie in silence afterward. Neither of us speaks and there’s no playful teasing like there usually is. The air feels charged between us, like something raw is there, something new. Her hands moving slowly over my body while I kiss her say way more than words ever could. She tucks her head against my chest, beneath my chin, and wraps her arms tightly around me like she's afraid I might disappear once she falls asleep.
Not a fucking chance.
I listen as her breathing evens out, as her body becomes a weight on mine, and I know she’s asleep. My hand rests on the curve of her ass and I drift off to sleep staring down into her gorgeous face. 
I’m not exactly sure when it happened but slowly, everything in my life has become about her. It scares the shit out of me, but that’s what this study was about, right? Opening yourself to someone new, giving yourself to them completely.
I might as well change my name to Lorcan Lochan at this point.
Because I belong to her.
122 notes · View notes
konigsrose · 3 months
Text
Pt3 of König’s Rose… 🌹 we love protective König 😍
Things did not improve for Rose. The current political situation had resulted in some issues accessing certain literature she needed for her thesis. There was a time when a brief trip over to Russia - admittedly with several complicated documents to give permission - would have made it possible to see these documents in their originals, or at least decent copies of them. Now this was entirely impossible, and Rose feared she may have to begin an entirely new thesis after seven months of painstaking but ultimately fruitless work. Rose was very much aware that compared to the horrors being faced by those involved in the war, this was nothing… But knowing that didn’t make her own life any easier. She wouldn’t lose her position on the course, she was trapped in a contract for at least three years anyway, but it had seriously dampened her enthusiasm.
It didn’t help that she had other, less academic issues at the university too. The President of the university had a son in the second year, Markus; Rose was supposed to be one of his tutors. Unfortunately Markus was an absolute dolt with no respect for women, who had decided Rose wasn’t worthy to be teaching him. In fact, Markus was outright harassing Rose now, making disgusting comments whenever they happened to be out of earshot of others, and on a few occasions when he knew they were in a camera blind spot actually trying to touch her. He tried to play it all off as compliments, that he just wanted a chance to be with her, but Rose had made her feelings on the matter very clear. She had no real friends in Berlin to talk to about this, and knew that given her thesis’ already shaky ground, going after the President’s son for harassment probably wouldn’t end well. If he’d got into his second year without anyone doing anything about his sleazy, sexist behaviour, what was the point in Rose reporting him?
She had had a run-in with Markus as she was leaving the library today. There were no cameras in the stairwell, and of course, when she left the stacks he had followed. His usual litany of “compliments” followed her down the stairs, and he had tried to put an arm around her waist. Rose had pushed him off her, and he’d made a joke about her playing hard to get, but she had seen the momentary flash of rage on his face. Rose didn’t know how many times she would have to tell him she wasn’t playing hard to get, she really wasn’t interested, but it didn’t seem like it would ever go through his thick skull. She had cried on the way home, unable to help herself. Everything was going wrong, she was exhausted, she was broke, she was hungry, and she had never felt so miserable and so trapped. When Rose saw König by the lift as she arrived back at the building, she knew she was a mess, and tried to bow her head so he wouldn’t notice her puffy red eyes and tear stained face. She did not speak to him. He glanced at her, but did not say anything either, at least, not right away.
“What’s wrong, little Rose, had a fight with your boyfriend or something?” He waited until they were in the lift to speak, and König tried to keep his voice light, hoping a joke might diffuse the tension that the little metal box of the lift seemed filled with.
“Maybe if I had a fucking boyfriend that might solve one of my problems at least.” She spat, irritated by the comment. Did König really think she was that pathetic? At least if she did have one, he could put Markus in his place; he’d probably take no for an answer if it came from another man.
“I assume you are not crying because you do not have a boyfriend, then?”
“No, König, that’s not why I’ve been crying, I’m not that pathetic. Actually, I probably am that pathetic, but right now being single is the least of my worries.” Rose was about to cry again, she couldn’t help it, and bit her bottom lip hard in an attempt to stop a sob escaping. König was silent. Rose made him feel more nervous than he felt out in the field sometimes, just forming words around her was difficult. When the lift arrived on their floor, he turned right, rather than left, and walked with her to her door, still in silence.
“Do you…” he hesitated, nervously. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Seriously? Why would you want to listen to me crying and wailing about my own stupid choices ruining my life?” Another tear had escaped, though Rose desperately tried to blink it back.
“I do not want to leave you alone like this. It is not right for a crying girl to be left to cry alone.” Rose looked into König’s face above her, and saw nothing but earnest concern. She hesitated; but she needed a friend, and he was the closest thing she had right now. She nodded, opened the door, and he followed her in.
“Tell me.” He said, simply, sitting on the loveseat against the wall, his huge, thick thighs taking up most of the space on it. Rose’s already wobbling resolve broke, and she allowed the words to spill from her as she collapsed into the little space next to him.
“It took me 4 years of study and then 3 more working to save enough money and be accepted on this fucking PhD, I’ve given up a decent job, a flat where I actually had nice things, my family, my friends, all for this SHIT! I spend all day doing other people’s fucking work, the war means I can’t even access what I need for my thesis, I get harassed by some untouchable dickhead constantly, I can’t afford to fucking eat most days, and I’m still years away from completing my stupid doctorate. I can’t go home, because if I go home I’ve wasted the last 7 years of my pathetic worthless life for nothing!” Rose’s wild ranting dissolved into sobs, face buried in her hands, as her whole body shook. König sat there, completely at a loss for what to do. He did not do social situations in general, and this was a particular social interaction he was wholly unprepared for. When he saw crying women it was usually in the line of duty; comforting them was not a part of his job. He placed a massive hand on Rose’s shoulder, and awkwardly patted it.
“Little Rose… I… do not know what to say.” He thought for a moment about each of the things she had listed. Most of them he had no help for, but the part about being harassed; well, that he could deal with, at least. Part of him wondered if hugging her would help, and he longed to let her cry on him, to hold her tight in his arms until she had calmed but… He didn’t have the courage to do that, fearing that given she was already being harassed by one man, the arms of a relative stranger may not be what she needed. “Who is he? Has he hurt you? Why is the dickhead untouchable?”
Rose let out a dark laugh at that last question, for some reason the phrasing of it amused her in her hysterical state.
“He hasn’t hurt me but he says things, disgusting things, and tries to touch me. I’ve told him a hundred times to leave me alone but… He’s the son of the university President, he can do what he wants. He knows where all the cameras are, and even if he got caught they’d probably just pack me off back to England anyway.” König’s fist was clenched on his knee, and the hand on her shoulder seemed to tighten painfully.
“I could… talk to him. Once I have spoken to him, it will not happen again, I am sure.”
“No, König. I appreciate the offer but… I don’t think that would be a good idea. I don’t want you to get in trouble. He’ll get bored eventually.” Rose, even through her tears and tumbling emotions couldn’t quite believe he had just offered that. He barely knew her, they had only spoken a few times, why on earth would he be offering to do such a thing for a woman he had only just begun talking to? Maybe this was another one of those soldier things, protecting the innocent or something like that, like it was his duty to look after her?
The confusion had at least distracted Rose from her tears, and she wiped her face with her hands, looking up into König’s pitying expression. Mein Gott, he thought, she was pretty even when her green eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying. He wished he could find something else to say, something to fix it for her. She said she couldn’t afford to eat… Maybe he should offer to buy her dinner? But that would mean he would have to take her to dinner, and make more conversation, find other things to say to her - the thought of it made his lungs feel like stone, unable to breathe. Sheiße, why couldn’t he just talk to her like a normal person, without his stupid brain disconnecting from his even stupider mouth. She looked so small, so soft compared with his massive muscular bulk, and he was beginning to feel even more anxious with the way she was looking so intently at him.
“Thank you, though. For the offer. And for letting me vent.” Her hand reached out to the one on his knee, and wrapped around it, tiny compared with his. It was warm, and soft, compared with his calloused and scarred skin. König’s heart began to pound in his chest, his mouth going dry, as she continued to stare up into his eyes with that sweet, desperate, sad look on her face. He needed to get out of here, needed to get away, before his panic took over completely. He pulled his one hand quickly from her shoulder, the other from under her soft fingers, and stood up, eyes darting around for an escape. Rose jerked back in shock, afraid she had done something wrong.
“Sorry, I, um…” She stammered, eyes full of fear.
“I hope you will feel better little Rose. I will leave you, now.” He managed to mutter, before leaving the flat without so much as a glance behind him. Rose’s heart sank as the door closed. She finally had an opportunity to make a friend, and a really kind, chivalrous, gorgeous one, and had scared him off already.
König returned to his own apartment and sat on the floor, his back to the cold wall for a minute or two to try and let his heart return to a normal pace, desperately trying to even his breathing. He hated that he felt like this over something so simple as a conversation with a pretty girl, when he could put a bullet through a target’s eye from hundreds of metres away without so much as a blink. He knew he had never been good with people, it was why he preferred to stay silent most of the time, why when he wasn’t at work he preferred to be in the gym or in his apartment alone. What was he thinking, when he had followed Rose to her apartment? Did he really think he could make her feel better? He had probably only made her feel more awkward, Verdammt! Well, there was one thing he could do, even if she had asked him not to get involved… That little Arschloch would never touch her again.
It was not hard for König to find the name of the man harassing Rose. The University she was working and studying at was fairly obvious, given the location of their apartment building, and it didn’t take much work to find the name of the President, and then the name of his son, especially with König’s military connections. He knew Rose had warned him against seeking out this stupid little man, but he also knew if he did things right, she would never need to know he had anything to do with it. A drunken accident, perhaps, was in order; nothing too severe, maybe just make sure his hands would not be reaching for Rose again. The last thing Markus heard, before the pain took over, was a deep male voice speaking in German.
“You will not lay a hand on my little Rose again.” It was not a request.
When Rose next saw Markus, he had a black eye, and two broken wrists. Apparently he had fallen down some stairs and broken both of his wrists at once. This seemed like a rather odd injury, and the details were hazy even in the rumours… How would he also have ended up with a black eye if his wrists had taken the brunt of the fall? But he was a hard drinker and definitely partied hard; maybe the reason it was all being kept so secret was that he was high or drunk when it had happened. Rose wouldn’t put it past his family to want to hush that up, given his father’s position. She had the tiniest little hint of suspicion that maybe, just maybe, König may have had something to do with it… But she brushed that aside quickly, sure that there was no way König cared enough to get involved, especially after the way he had abruptly left her flat. Either way, Markus’ injuries seemed to have knocked the arrogance out of him. Still, the thought of König’s words rang in her ears.
“Once I have spoken to him, it will not happen again, I am sure.”
4 notes · View notes
gardenerian · 1 year
Note
Do you have any headcannons on Ian and religion? Like do you think he believes in any god or is it just when he's manic? It seems like it might have a lot to do with fear. When he had yevgeny he was asking the cops if Jesus sent them to take his baby. I find that interesting
oh boy howdy wow wow wow hello! what a Q, what a Q. and do i have an A? i... don't know. but i sure do have some THOUGHTS.
getting my charlie kelly on under the cut:
okay. so.
ian is someone who does not do well with uncertainty, right? so much of his story is pushing and reaching and grasping for answers. in his relationships, with his sense of self, for his future.
i think he does look to things bigger or grander than himself for order and meaning, but it's not god (at first). it's things like the allegiance to serve, or the oath he takes as an EMT.
we don't seen much religion in early shameless, except for the odd (sarcastic) reference to irish catholicism or to stealing from/scamming their church. they have some (if minor) relationship with the place, and i do have a headcanon that they may have spent some time there pre-series as a place to get food/stay warm.
so when ian gets to his s5 manic episode, i think that's where the foundation of that delusion would lie, or at least, the vocabulary for what he's afraid is happening? jesus, gabriel, and demons stealing yevgeny is such a specific vision, i would think he had some religious grounding to come to that conclusion.
religious delusions are incredibly common in mania, even if a person is not particularly religious. and i totally agree with you that ian's is triggered by fear. the last thread kind of snaps in that moment. his paranoia is ramped up until it reaches the only end it really can - crashing down.
and we don't see religion for ian again until monica dies. ian turns to his job as an EMT and his relationships to help him make sense of the world. but losing mickey and monica all at once... he's lost at the start of s8. and i think the mania and religion are a little more closely intertwined in this episode. it appears far before the breaking point, and they kind of go hand in hand.
ian spends half the season looking for something to help him feel better and when he finds it, he locks in. trevor, the kids he helps, the shelter, the pastor, the religious movement - it all becomes this warped mission for ian. and it's both way bigger than him and largely self-serving. he's actively reading the bible and finding a calling that he believes is his alone.
the delusion here is less about paranoia and terror, and more about righteousness, grandeur, and sensing a calling - it's filling a void and lifting him higher than he can handle. but i will still argue there is still fear laced in it. fear is a powerful motivator for ian, it always has been.
and i think the s8 episode had a long, difficult recovery. one thing i'm always wishing we had was the mourning period - there is a grief that follows losing a delusion like that. we see it just a bit, with ian still looking for shim back at home. to have such strong conviction, only to suddenly face the reality that it was, in fact, a symptom of mental illness... that hurts. and to go to prison for it? yikes.
so i do wonder how ian let go of religion. does he purposefully not mention it again, or is this episode another victim of the show's goldfish memory? how does he explain it all to mickey? is the shame compounded by this religious aspect?
it doesn't play a role in their wedding, or ian's sense of right and wrong, it doesn't guide him after prison. so in canon.... you can say it's just gone. maybe it recedes until the energy returns? i don't know.
in my head, though... it's more complicated than that. i don't know if i think that ian actively believes in abrahamic religion. but i think there is certainly part of him that wrestles with the big questions and might find the idea of god (in whatever form) comforting at times.
i think they all grew up too cynical to think that someone is specifically listening to their prayers but... i don't know. in my head, ian at least remains sensitive to the idea of god, and won't bring himself to write it off entirely, even if he's not actively praying or searching for it.
i have rambled enough! what do you think?
14 notes · View notes
driftward · 2 years
Text
Title: FFXIV Write 2022 - 2. Bolt Characters: Thancred Waters Rating: Teen Summary: Thancred knows exactly what to do with feelings Notes: None
Thancred slid carefully into a place between places in lower Limsa Lominsa. It was important for a wharf rat such as himself to have boltholes where he could hide himself away, places where he could store a few things of his own, and places he could escape to when trouble came.
Though in this case, the trouble was less of the usual promises of violence or attentions of Yellowjackets, and more the troubles of heart.
He'd been offered an opportunity.
The opportunity of a lifetime, really.
So why was he so afraid?
And so he had come here, for what may well have been the last time. He settled into the small space, almost a literal bolt hole for literal wharf rats, a gap in one of Limsa Lominsa's many walls.
He took a few deep breaths, and settled his nerves, and curled in up on himself, and wondered what the decisions he made tonight would mean for him on the morrow.
He fell asleep there like that, troubled.
-*-
A political stunt turned wrong, and now there was a little girl orphaned, and trouble in Ul'dah.
Thancred was now an Archon, however, and a member of the Circle of Knowing.
That meant that this trouble was his trouble.
He had many mixed and complicated feelings about it. Anger, to be sure, but also sadness at the tragedy, and worry about the future, and it should have been too much for a young man to bear.
But then he remembered how a moment of kindness a lifetime alone had changed his life forever. How a man had reached out to an orphan, and provided him a future.
This young child would need the same.
So he tucked his feelings away, and locked them under bolt and key, and put on his best smile and his bravest face.
He would do what he could for her and more.
-*-
He remembered ... something. It wasn't coming to mind. Every time he tried to turn his mind to it, it fell away, slippery as an eel and as insubstantial as the sea breeze.
He remembered praying, he knew that much. He remembered the anger of the red moon Dalamud in the sky as it slowly lowered itself over an unready populace. He remembered Louisoix, setting out for Carteneau, along with...
And there, it slipped away again.
He had not felt this small and helpless in the face of the world in a long time. He had thought he had learned to overcome life's many challenges, to bear its many burdens.
But this one he had failed to bear, somehow, and he knew it, even as he could not feel the shape of it, even if he could not put name to it.
He had failed, somehow, and now Louisoix was gone, and so was -
It slipped away again, on the edge of his consciousness.
He ground his teeth in frustration.
Well, no matter. If he could not face it, he would hide it away. He did not know what it was that eluded him so badly, but he knew that his fellows would need him in the coming days.
All the better if they did not have to carry him in turn, he decided. Whatever, whoever it was that was slipping from his mind, his comrades would need him.
Especially with Louisoix gone, they would need a new foundation to bolt themselves to.
And so he resolved to be part of that, and pushed what he could not remember away.
Did he once know one of the Warriors of Light?
Did he once -
No, he decided, and he pushed it away.
-*-
So much had gone so very wrong so very fast, and he had failed again.
The new charge had gone in on what should have been part of a reasonably routine mission, with plenty of backup, to show them the ropes. Deal with some zealots, save the locals from further predation by said zealots, and build rapport with the local forces. An easy win, that should have seen a path to bolstering their confidence, seeing their mettle, and providing them with the groundwork for their future growth.
Instead it had turned into disaster. His charge had been captured, and by all rights should have died. That they did not was fortuitous and spoke well of them, but that their life had been in such dire risk at all spoke poorly of him.
How could he look them in the face squarely after that? How could he face any of them, after such failure?
And so he had bolted at the nearest opportunity, eager to prove himself once more, and to make amends for his mistake. He took to his work with the enthusiasm that could only have come for desperation.
He would make it up to them. He would.
-*-
It would be much later until he had fully realised where he had gone wrong, the depths of his error, and how he had compounded misstep after misstep.
It was a tapestry of mistakes, woven into a fine bolt of failure, which he had then clothed himself in fully before practically delivering himself to the Ascian on a plate.
He had been used against his friends, and it had almost spelled the doom of the realm.
Almost, except for the Warrior of Light.
He heard his comrades tell the tale of how they stepped up in the wake of his mistakes and shouldered the burden of carrying the mission. How they had fought and bled, of the sacrifices they had borne, but also of the friendships and connections they had made.
And how, in the end, despite being at a point where discretion may have been the better part of valor, they had stood and delivered a victory for the alliance forces, struck down first the Empire's terrible machine, and then struck down the Ascian that had worn Thancred's face for too long.
They had succeeded where he had failed.
But despite that, they never made a point of that. Indeed, they seemed to do exactly the opposite in the days after. They had checked in on him, they had tended to him, they had helped him find his feet again.
All while still doing the work the realm demanded of them.
Thancred wondered how he would return the favor one day.
-*-
The answer came rather sooner than he had cared for.
It was supposed to be a celebration for the hero of the realm, and Thancred, for his part, was glad of it. They deserved all this and more, and so he and his fellow Scions went to Ul'dah, to a celebratory banquet.
And when the Warrior of Light was called to the Sultana's chambers for a friendly but private meeting, he gave it not another thought. Of course they would have such friends, and of course they deserved them, and anyway, it was a nice night for pleasant conversation.
And then disaster had struck, like a bolt from the blue. The Warrior of Light, accessed of regicide. His comrades, accused of using witchcraft and sorcery to manipulate the minds of the realm's leaders.
He himself, accused of - well. That one was perhaps almost too accurate, given his recent past, and stung a bit.
But still, they had escaped their pursuers. Papalymo and Yda had stayed behind to hold the line, and now he was in the tunnels beneath Ul'dah. Him and Y'shtola, Minfilia and the Warrior of Light, and he knew it would not be enough. He could hear their pursuers closing in behind them.
He could not fail Minfilia or the Warrior of Light again.
He would not.
And so when Y'shtola proposed a risky plan, he was quick to jump to its support, to place his life on the line, and perhaps to even the scales of the failures of his life.
He and Y'shtola made his last stand, each nodding to each other just once as they threw their lives into the kiln, and made the necessary sacrifice to ensure the future.
-*-
His life had not been his own for a few moments. Y'shtola had done something, and had delivered him halfway across the continent, his very spirit loosed like a crossbow bolt and fired across the firmament.
He did not know what to make of these strange new circumstances, but he made the best of it as best as he could. The first matter to solve was one of survival, and the very first matter of survival was that of clothing, as he had arrived naked as a jaybird and with only a nutkin for company.
It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but it was mere sennights before he found himself not only clothed, but armed and armored once more.
He wanted to say he had survived worse, but even in Limsa Lominsa he at least had the comfort of the city walls when he had been left naked and to his own devices on more than one occasion.
Still, he survived. That's what he did. He was a survivor.
And when at last he had managed to catch up once again with his comrades, he was hale and hearty enough, and ready to resume his duties.
Even as they fought the Warriors of Darkness.
Even as they sought out what had happened to the rest of his comrades on that disastrous night in Ul'dah.
Even as he found out the fate of his dear Minfilia.
He would keep doing the work, for that was what was demanded of him, even as it always seemed to seek to break him.
-*-
The First was a strange realm, and it grew strange fruit. It was familiar in many ways, so familiar, and in many places, it felt almost like home.
Which made it all the stranger in the ways it was different. It felt uncomfortable, and he was not certain it was just the ever-present Light. And that he was now a world away from so many of his comrades was almost too much to bear.
He was glad for the distraction when the Crystal Exarch sent him out to investigate the rumors swirling and surrounding the Oracle of Light, and when he had said her name - Minfilia - he felt hope sprout and bolt anew in him.
Perhaps this could be the opportunity he had been seeking to redress his mistakes and balance his ledger.
When he found her, however, he realised that this was not the woman who he had helped raise, the lost daughter he had seen into a woman grown, but altogether a different girl, far too young for the burdens she was being asked to bear.
And certainly not fit to be stole away in a locked room, away from the world.
He rescued her, of course. This was no fate he would allow anyone. That it was the beginning of a whole new fresh set of troubles was no matter to him. He had once more found a duty to perform, and he would do so, with gusto.
He hardly noticed how he held her at arm's length. He did not realize how distant he was being with her.
He only wanted to get it right this time. To give her space to find her own destiny, and not impose upon her a destiny of his own thinking, of his own mind.
It would turn out okay this time, he resolved.
-*-
The Warrior of Light had arrived in the first, and Thancred found himself looking to them, not just as a comrade in arms, but as something more.
He began to wonder, to marvel, at this person.
What bolthole had produced such a stalwart soul? What could have? They had weathered much and more, and they had done so always with determination and compassion.
And compassion, true, genuine compassion. Thancred put his feelings, his real feelings, firmly bolted away under lock and key, but the Warrior approached others with such authenticity and vulnerability that Thancred could not help but notice how others opened themselves up to them, himself included.
They were a firmament, not just for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, but seeming for the star itself. The star and now at least one of its reflections. The Warrior of Light was a foundation upon which the history of the future could be bolted to, and be secure in its assurance.
And as challenges came their way, no matter how great, they did not bolt from them, but instead stood and faced them. First against primals, then against the Empire's terrible machinations, and now even in a realm they did not well understand they stood against its monsters, to deliver a night to a world drowned in seemingly limitless light.
Their many attributes formed a bolt of the finest material, in which they clad not only themselves but all who would hew close to them. Compassion woven with care, endurance woven with strength, truth woven with their very soul, they wore their heart as shield and succor both, and thus clad, they journeyed out into a world that often tore into them, but thus clothed, they did not despair, but instead prevailed.
The truth came to Thancred, the snap of a bolt of lightning through his very soul. The Warrior succeeded not in spite of their compassion, their kindness, not in spite of their vulnerability and the truth of who they were, but because of it. Because of it. Thancred had hid so much of himself away for so long, he was only half in the world, but the Warrior was always completely here, present and ready and willing and able.
Even as the Warrior was loosed across the realm, a wayward bolt fired from Hydaelyn's own hand, in their wake followed the fruits of their labor as they did the work.
And from the seeds they planted bolted up hope.
Thancred looked to the Warrior now, and for the first time that he could remember, he felt that he saw something for himself. Not long self-loathing and recrimination, not guilt over matters that, if he were completely honest, he could not control fully.
He saw in the Warrior a different path for himself.
All he needed was to be brave enough to step upon it, step out of his self-imposed bolthole, and maybe begin anew.
27 notes · View notes
thingstomiss · 1 year
Text
I am convinced that 4x09 of Succession is the first thing they ever wrote and then they built an entire show around leading us here.
Honestly, for 3 seasons, I have been swinging between the siblings, rooting for each one to “win it all” at separate times. By the end of season 3, we see the siblings start to form an alliance but there’s not much weight to it. It’s like, they’ve got nothing left so why not? But in season 4, after Logan passes, that passive sentiment becomes so bleak and true that the siblings are forced to really see each other for the first time since childhood probably. And they’re only looking because they each so desperately want it for themselves.
Anyway, it’s been really interesting in this final season to see everyone drop their bullshit (except for Greg who seems to relish in it more now) because they…. Have no other choice? There are moments that feel so……. What’s the point? And I think Shiv is finding herself in those moments more and more.
It was so heavy to hear her eulogy of Logan, with a close up of Gerri and Carolina - after watching all of the past wives and mistresses of Logan unionize in the front pew at the funeral. “It was hard to be his daughter […] He couldn’t fit a whole woman in his head.”
I have instinctually wanted to root for Shiv but the things she did, they way she was at times… I’ve never fully understood her. I’m realizing now that was extremely intentional. The writers gave us glimpses of Shiv—her ferocity, sharpness, desperation. We’ve seen her ambition and her embarrassments. This season emphasized her playful approach to power. But often, her motivation is unclear. Or it shifts at a moments notice. We can’t root for her because we’re not sure what we’re rooting for.
She’s always pushing the line, but she knows the line—sees it clearly (even when others are oblivious to it). When the line is crossed, all facades drop and suddenly Shiv is human again. She reacts and the pulse of the entire episode falters for a moment. Like motion-sickness, viewers are suddenly disoriented - how did we get here? And then, whoever has betrayed her moves us all along and we write her reaction off easily.
Shiv is tired of playing. But everyone else is still in that place and trying to win. Maybe she should try to get back there too? I think this is part of the reason why Shiv didn’t fight Roman and Kendall when they essentially booted her off the top. She just took it. At one point, when things got tense, she pleads with them—“Doesn’t this feel good?” (In reference to their desperate “family first” approach).
In season 4, we’re confronted with the complicated love between siblings. Connor, the stand in father, always discarded but still persistent. Kendall, a narcissistic bullshitter, only genuine with his siblings and protective of them. Roman, complicated vulnerable Roman. The most abused and the most loving. Even if detrimentally ashamed—the most loving. And then there’s Shiv. Wanting to be seen, considered, and ruthlessly fighting for that opportunity. Usually the first to ground them all.
I wanted to believe, in the beginning of season 4, we’d see a cycle break. “Church and State” reminded us all of reality. Kendall will go on to take it all, his father’s selfish shadow. Roman will self-destruct, will seek out harm, will hurt and numb and hurt and hurt. But Connor and Shiv? Connor has only ever loved them and will only ever want to remind them all of that.
Shiv’s fate is separate but just as fitting. She’ll stay in her fucked marriage and she’ll be a prickly distant mother and she won’t be powerful so she’ll start to dull. She’ll fight the fading but she’ll inevitably fade. She’s been fighting, she’s already fading. And she said it out loud at her father’s funeral.
I’m not sure when I stopped picking one to root for—but I did. I hope, in our final episode, we just get some sort of reassurance that the siblings will keep this new alliance. Less about the upper hand, more about survival and recognition. They are all The Worst and they all deserve each other - fondly. They have to admit now that their father never loved any of them no matter how badly they begged for it. They have to admit it’s always just been them.
I worry that even though they have to, they won’t. The love they hold for each other will implode to total destruction and the show will end.
4 notes · View notes
Text
Help Him Out!
The next day was definitely different. I awoke to see everything was just as it was when I laid down, it was almost too perfect. For a moment, I truly believed what happened was a dream. But it couldn’t have been, right? It had to have been real, all of it. The villain, the building almost collapsing, the superheroes, Chat Noir, too. I decided to continue on tentatively, taking everything for what it was until I found evidence to prove myself wrong.
My day continued on as casual as usual. Get up, get ready, eat, head to school. The second day was less intense, people weren’t ogling me as much and I could breathe. Everything seemed to be okay, and classes were flowing smoothly. Though I do have to admit, I dislike science class. The teacher is mean, and her work is very complicated for no reason! It’s fine, though, I manage to survive and the bell rings for dismissal of the school day.
Somewhere inside I feel something akin to disappointment. What happened last night? Was it all real? I worry that it wasn’t, that I’ll never taste anything as exciting as that again. But, I see that— thankfully— I am wrong. The ground shakes and another villain has appeared! I cannot se them, but I can hear the shrill voice that calls out to those superheroes from last night. Ladybug and Chat Noir. I know the latter, but yet to acknowledge the former. Perhaps it was their ability that fixed everything, the magic ladybugs? Whatever it was, it was exciting.
However I do not put myself into the direct line of danger, I’m not a fool. Instead, I find a safer place to hide and wait out until it’s over. It’s taking a while, but I don’t want to get hurt. I find himself huddled against a locker in the far corner with my knees drawn to my chest and my hair in front of my eyes. It’s risky to even move, and I decide to sit there until I see those magical Ladybugs again.
In the mean time, I check the news and notice that this villain, a monster with a sword-hand, is rampaging. There I also find articles linking back to something called Ladyblog. I continue to scroll, occasionally wincing at the damage I can hear, and find more information. Though most of it is centered around this Ladybug superhero, there is some information about Chat Noir. I learn that he works alongside Ladybug to protect the world from this villain named Hawkmoth. Who are these people? why are they doing this? The curiosity plagues me, yet the answers allude me.
Finally, after what seems like hours, the ladybugs flutter around and clean up the mess. Any damages that were once visible to me no longer exist, just as new, just like last night. The thought festers before I stand to leave, heading home.
I nearly bump into a few people, and I know I’m not really watching where I’m going, but I can’t help it! This Ladyblog is so full of information, and good information at that. I’m so curious! What is a miraculous? A lucky charm? A cataclysm? Just as I almost run face-first into the 4th person today, I pocket my phone and decide to no longer obstruct my vision.
I find myself standing at the corner of a crosswalk, waiting to pass. The numbers are ticking down before the cars go, and I decide to not risk it and stay. However I see an older man still walking as the numbers count own. Concern brews but I believe he can make it. Then, time runs out and the hand tells us to stop, but he’s still there, walking, slowly. That is, until an impatient car swerves around him to get to wherever they need to go. The sudden movement startles him, and he falls!
Something pushes me to help the man, and so I do! Without a thought of self-concern, i throw myself forward and help cushion the man’s fall by preventing his head from hitting the pavement harshly. He seems a bit shocked but overall okay. A scowl makes itself onto my face as I eye the license plate of the car driving away. Despite mentally noting the plate, i know nothing will come of it. I sigh and redirect my attention. A stray horn honking brings me back to reality where I help the man up— as slow as i please, those cars can wait— and assist him across the crosswalk. Once on the other side, I let out a few anxiety-ridden breaths.
“Are you okay?” I start with some wound up tension in my voice, that driver was so reckless.
“I am, thank you, young man.” The old man smiles up at me, and I smile in return, “Young man” cools the fire broiling in my chest. What a kind stranger. “The world needs more people like you,” He brushes himself off.
“Ah, how kind. We need to be better people to one another.” I bow formally in response, brushing off the indirect compliment with a humble manner. “Please be well, sir! It was a pleasure meeting you,”
The man smiles and nods. “Likewise,” then, he turns and leaves.
I follow suit and begin heading back home, the chaos from earlier pushed to the back of my mind. I find myself worrying if people are so inconsiderate on a daily basis, is it really that common? I hope that such a sweet man would be treated better than that. If not, let him in specific be treated well.
Soon I make it home, greeting my host parents kindly before taking a snack from the kitchen and heading upstairs to my room. My bag feels a bit heavier than before, but I pay no mind to it. Instead, I grab my laptop to begin homework. I’ve got work to do!
0 notes
mochamamii · 3 years
Text
yandere!taeyong: no secrets.
Tumblr media
▹ a/n : hello loves, I chose a really shitty title for this but whatever loll this is something I wrote in like a day, sometimes I write absolute filth for no reason, this is one of those times.
▹ triggers : yandere!au, detailed smut, unprotected sex + creampie, mirror sex, daddy kink but like not super heavy tho
▹ pairing : lee taeyong x chubbyfem!reader
▹ synopsis : keeping secrets from your yandere boyfriend probably isn’t the best idea...unlesss they’re lee taeyong (even then that’s risky bizness my friend.)
••
Taeyong sighed as he stared down at the text message on his phone, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. He peered out the window of his car to glance across the street once more, staring at your apartment building.
He was parked across the street, his car parked far enough away that you wouldn’t be able to recognize his car from someone else’s.
Taeyong was immediately reminded of the lit cigarette he had in his other hand when the unflicked ash fell, slightly singeing the patch of skin on his leg where his ripped skinny jeans had left him exposed. He cursed under his breath, rolling the window down just enough to toss the still lit bud on the ground.
He was so distracted by you, more specifically, the blatant lie he had just caught you in that he completely forgot about his surroundings for a moment, causing him to let the cigarette burn almost entirely without ever flicking the ash.
You see, you and Taeyong have been dating for just a few months now.  You were in that weird limbo stage where you were transitioning from casual dating to exclusivity. At least for you that’s how it was.
Taeyong had already moved past that stage months ago. He was serious about you, he was just being courteous by allowing you time to feel the same. But he was steadily growing impatient with you and all your sudden antics.
Things were going perfectly fine in the beginning. You were perfect, every bit of innocence and naivety that Taeyong wanted. You checked off all the boxes for him. And he didn’t need you to tell him that you felt the same way. Which is why it was pissing him off that you seemed to suddenly start pulling away from him slowly.
You’d begun acting strange. Avoiding him lately, whereas before you always obediently jumped at the chance to spend time with him. You also had refused to be intimate with him for a few weeks now, which wouldn’t have been a problem on it’s own. Taeyong was patient when it came to things like that and he was willing to go slow.
But in this instance Taeyong felt he had a right to be upset. Even in the few short months you’d been dating, Taeyong had managed to turn you into a full on nympho. Molding you into his perfect little sex kitten, ready to do whatever he wanted and whenever. What changed?
All of these things, amongst others, have led Taeyong to conclude that you obviously must be seeing another man. What else could it be? Things were going so well and then you suddenly changed up without any explanation.
And most recently Taeyong had caught you red handed in a lie.
He texted you earlier in the day to ask if he could come and see you. You replied back saying you had been at work. An obvious lie because Taeyong had been parked outside your house since last night, watching your front door to see if he could catch anyone coming in or out. He felt bad for stalking you, especially since he vowed to himself that he would try to be less invasive this time around.
He really liked you and didn’t want to scare you off.
So he left, giving up after nearly four hours of watching your house and not seeing anything out of the ordinary. He had only come back this afternoon in hopes that he might catch you on your lunch break. You worked nearby and it wasn’t uncommon for you to come home during this time.
He got excited when he pulled up to see your car parked out front already, the need to see you face to face building inside him. He hadn’t seen you in nearly a week, you claimed you were swamped with work and that’s why you didn’t have much time to spend with him like you normally did. Taeyong could tell you were lying to him, he had to stop himself from marching up to your apartment right then and there confronting you about your lies.
But he wanted to be sure. He needed concrete proof that he was right about what had been going on with you.
So he texted you a second time, asking if you had decided to come home for lunch today. He had seen you upstairs in your bedroom window, moving around, he knew you were home. If you texted him back with a different response he could confirm you were lying to him.
Unsurprisingly enough, you replied back, saying you were still at work and would probably be working late tonight.
He scoffed as he reread your message. Rolling his eyes in annoyance as he peered up at your bedroom window, straining his eyes to try and see what you were doing exactly.
Taeyong stayed put in the car for a while, trying to decide what the best course of action would be. He wanted to just march up there to you but he didn’t know what he’d even say.
Quite frankly, Taeyong was a little embarrassed. He wished he didn’t feel so affected by you. If it were any other girl he’d have dropped them a long time ago, deciding they weren’t worth the trouble.
But this was you we were talking about...His precious baby girl, the girl who he was actively trying to change for. He had been pegged as the crazy, overbearing, sometimes even violent boyfriend by nearly all of his ex’s.
They weren’t wrong actually. Taeyong was all of those things. But he was trying to suppress that kind of behavior just for you. He wanted you to want him too, he didn’t want to feel like he was trapping you into a relationship with him. Things were so different with you.
As angry and as hurt Taeyong was because of you lying to him, he still couldn’t bring himself to actually be angry with you. He was upset about the situation, but not at you. Honestly, once he saw you in person he wasn’t sure if he’d want to raise his voice and yell at you, or bury his head between your thick thighs.
God...it had been so long since he was inside you.
Only a week actually, but even that was too long for Taeyong.
Not wanting to sit and wrestle with his thoughts any longer Taeyong climbed out of the car. He jogged up the front steps to your door, trying to measure his breathing as he did so. He almost raised his hand to knock until he remembered you always kept a spare under a nearby potted plant.
He had to check under a few before he picked up the right one.
With your spare key now in hand, Taeyong could slip through the front door quietly. Even though during his stakeouts he never saw anyone go in or out of the house he still wondered if there was a chance you were being unfaithful. If not that, what else could it be?
Whatever it was, he was going to confront you about it today. No longer would he be left in the dark like this.
He unlocked the door, slipping in as quiet as a mouse. He pushed the door closed behind him, gently as not to alert you, wherever you were in the house. He kicked his shoes off at the door, knowing he’d be much quieter with sock clad feet instead of the heavy boots he had on previously.
Taeyong’s ears perked up as he heard you drop something on the floor upstairs. Considering the part of the ceiling he heard the noise from he guessed you were in the bathroom upstairs. Taeyong’s feet carried him up the stairs to your bedroom, the door was left open ajar already.
Carefully, he peeked through the crack to ensure you weren’t in the bedroom, even through the tiny space in the doorway Taeyong could see your figure standing in the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He pushed the door open enough to slip inside.
Taeyong stood under the arch of the doorway to your bathroom, watching you with curious eyes, your back was facing him so you were still unaware of his presence behind you, he could see you were struggling to open something.
Taeyong was about to speak up and announce himself to you until he took quick note of how your frustration turned to panic as you furiously twisted and pulled at the cap of…a pill bottle?
Now Taeyong was really curious.
With one last heave you released a large puff of air as the cap twisted off the bottle, Taeyong quickly sprung into action, taking two long strides across the expanse of the bedroom to get to where you stood in the bathroom.
He was too late though and you had already swallowed one of whatever those pills were.
“Taeyong?” You jumped, startled as Taeyong snatched one of your wrists to spin you around to face him.
Your cheeks turned red as you tried to inconspicuously hide your other hand that still held the bottle of pills behind your back.
“Give it.” Is all Taeyong said, his grip on your wrist tightening.
You shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, whenever Taeyong spoke in that demanding tone of his you’d always instantly obey and comply with whatever it was he wanted, not wanting to piss him off further.
But this time…this time you just couldn’t. You were too embarrassed, your hand felt frozen in place behind your back.
Growling, Taeyong spun you around and pushed you against the bathroom counter, pinning your arm behind your back as he retrieved the bottle of pills for himself.
You nearly toppled over because of his quick movements catching you so off guard. His firm hold on your arm pinned behind your back, catapulted you into the bathroom counter, your breasts plopping against the cool marble countertop.
Taeyong squinted his eyes to read the tiny print on the bottle, “What are these?” He asked, unfamiliar with the name of the pills.
You glanced up at him in the mirror, his jaw clenching as he tried to decipher what the long complicated name printed on the bottle meant.
It was as if you’d forgotten how to speak. Everything had happened so quickly and your mind was still taking a minute to process it all.
You had spent months trying to keep this one secret hidden from Taeyong. You went to any lengths possible if it meant protecting your secret. Even lying to him when necessary, which had become pretty frequent as of late.
All of it was catching up with you now.
Today would probably mark the end of your relationship, you were sure of it, there’s no way Taeyong would even be able to stomach the sight of you once he knows the truth. He’d probably think you were pathetic, too pathetic to be his girlfriend.
And you just couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye as your tower of lies came crashing down around you.
Your head fell, hanging shamefully as you tried to ignore Taeyong’s burning gaze.
Taeyong was growing impatient with you, wanting answers and wanting them now. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, gripping your roots not so gently as he pulled your head back to force you to stare straight ahead, so you were looking directly at him in the mirror.
Your back arched instinctively as you stretched your body out to follow his hand, wincing slightly in pain as you did so.
“Tae…what are you doing here?-
You were cut off by Taeyong slamming his hips into your backside, pinning your own hips firmly against the counter as he trapped you under his weight. His hand in your hair moved to wrap around your throat from behind.
“I’m growing impatient with you Y/N. Tell me now and stop avoiding the question.” Taeyong said
“Tell me.”
Your eyes were slightly red, a little teary as you nervously glanced up at him once before parting your lips to speak.
Your eyes searched his black ones for approval, it’s like you were silently asking him without saying it,
Will you still want me after this?
Taeyong only softened temporarily as he took note of your reluctance, he used his free hand to rub small circles on your back to soothe you.
“T-They’re…appetite suppressants.” You answered shamefully.
Taeyong’s grip on you loosened as he listened.
“Appetite Suppressants?” He echoed, glancing down at the bottle and back at you.
Taeyong felt foolish and annoyed. You had been so secretive and sneaky lately, he was sure it was because you had another man in your life, not diet pills?
Taeyong screwed the cap of the bottle off with ease, dumping the rest of the pills down the toilet.
You had to swallow an audible groan. You had paid good money for those pills. They weren’t cheap over the counter pills, you had gone to your doctor to have them prescribe something stronger for you. Watching the pills be carelessly flushed down the toilet made you wince internally.
“You don’t need these. Stop taking them.” Taeyong demanded as he placed the empty bottle down on the counter.
“Understand?” He asked you, displeased with your lack of response.
“But…Taeyong. I need those.” You breathed softly, slowly raising up from the sink to turn around and face him.
“I need them Taeyong. I can’t just give them up, not yet, not till I’m-
“Why not?” He questioned.
Fat, ugly tears started to roll down your cheeks as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m still not perfect enough for you yet.” You whispered softly.
It was hard to say it out loud but it was true. You constantly felt like a tub of lard next to Taeyong. You didn’t want to feel that way anymore. You wanted to walk beside him with pride. You couldn’t do that. Not yet at least. Not with your current body.
Taeyong really didn’t like that you were fighting him on this. You were so naturally submissive, always going out of your way to avoid conflict with people especially Taeyong, he could say almost anything and you would listen and obey to whatever he wanted or expected from you.
Mostly because it was just in your nature to be more on the submissive side, but also because you felt like you were incredibly lucky to have someone like Taeyong, who were you to be making demands?
Even when there were times that you disagreed on something and wanted to vocalize your opinion, Taeyong would whisper in your ear how much he loved you and how you just needed to let go and trust him.
Usually it worked too.
But Taeyong was in no mood to be that gentle with you, not that it would matter anyways. This is the one thing you know that you will always fight him on.
Your body.
Taeyong never entertained any conversations with you when it came to your weight and feeling insecure about your body. He waved them off as you being “silly” or something like that.
It wasn’t that Taeyong didn’t care. It’s just that he’s a yandere and has never known how to process any of his feelings in a relatively healthy way.
It’s easier for him to ignore the issue rather than confront it. He’s afraid he won’t know how to make you feel better. He doesn’t know how he can make you see the beauty that he sees.
“Don’t make me the reason that you’re desecrating your body this way.” Taeyong hissed, landing a harsh slap against your ass cheek for emphasis.
You yelped, already feeling the numb burning sensation spread across your afflicted skin.
Taeyong grabbed hold of your hair again, raising the top half of your body off the counter until your back was pressed flush up against his chest. He snaked one arm around your waist, locking you in place against him whilst the other remained tangled in your hair.
Your head fell back against his shoulder as you followed his hand to escape the painful friction at your roots.
You fell into place so naturally against Taeyong, your bodies molding together so perfectly.
Taeyong loved the way your body was so soft and squishy, he loved your thick full curves, your deliciously plump body is what had initially attracted him to you.
How could you possibly think that something already so perfect needed to be changed?
Taeyong pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, moving to nibble at your sensitive earlobe, “Darling. What’s it gonna take, hm?”
“What’s it gonna take to get you to stop obsessing over this?” Taeyong asked, his free hand beginning to roam your body.
“To stop…saying all these mean things about yourself?” Taeyong’s voice trailed as his hand slid down the length of your abdomen, his long slender fingers gliding across all of your rolls and stretch marks.
All you had on was an oversized t-shirt, Taeyong’s to be exact. One that he’d left over here before.
Seeing you in his clothes sent waves of electricity directly to the head of his cock, making him harden. He wanted you to wear his clothes all of the time, he wanted his smell to linger on your skin, letting everyone know you were his.
As much as he loved seeing you in his shirt he couldn’t wait to rip it off you.
Especially now with the way your hard nipples were poking through the thin cotton material, practically begging him to turn you around and assault them with his teeth and tongue.
He couldn’t wait.
He was going to do every dirty, lewd thing imaginable to you tonight. No part of your body would be left untouched once he was done.
He needed you to know that you’re beautiful. He had to show you just how in love with you and your body that he was. He didn’t know how to translate those feelings into words, just action.
Taeyong released his hold on your hair to be able to use both of his hands as he groped and fondled your body.
His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his warm large hands through your shirt.
He kneaded them, moving to tug at your nipples through the fabric to make you mewl.
“Do you feel that baby?” Taeyong asked as he rolled his hips into your backside, his cock standing at full attention now, allowing you to easily feel his erection through his jeans.
“Do you see how badly I want you? Look at how hard I am and I’ve barely touched you.” Taeyong said , groaning as he rocked his hips against you once more. Loving the feeling of your round backside rubbing up against his cock. You were wet already and growing impatient with Taeyong’s teasing. Your clit throbbed painfully, desperately needing attention. You rutted your backside back against Taeyong, begging him to take you already.
Taeyong raised one of your legs up to rest on top of the counter, giving him perfect access to your pussy.
His shirt on you wasn’t long enough to cover the full expanse of your ass so as your leg raised up on the counter,  your glistening folds were revealed to him.
“Do you think you deserve to cum? After all you’ve done, all the sneaking around and the hiding? Do you really think I should give you any relief?” Taeyong teased as he used his fingers to slide up and down your slick slit, collecting your juices on his fingers.
“Please…” You begged with a pout, pushing back against him as you felt his fingers on you.
“Aht. Aht. No moving around or I’ll have to pin you against the counter like before.” He threatened as he stopped you from grinding your hips down against his fingers.
Feeling defeated you sighed, relaxing into his touch as you tried not to think about how badly you wanted to cum.
“Don’t look away from the mirror or I’ll stop.” Taeyong warned.
You nearly turned your head away momentarily to peek at what he was doing but decided against it at the last second.
Taeyong knelt down until he was level with your pussy. His warm breath fanned your skin sending shivers down your spine.
Taeyong’s soft wet tongue licked a single stripe along your slit, stopping at your clit to give it a single kiss before enclosing his soft lips around your bundle of nerves.
Your mouth dropped open as a moan fell past your lips.
Taeyong’s tongue worked quickly, alternating between lapping at your folds and sucking on your engorged clit.
You gripped the edge of the counter for support. You wanted to pull away from him when the pleasure became too intense but he smacked your ass whenever you moved so much as an inch away.
He released your clit from his mouth with an audible popping sound as he did so. Standing back up at his full height Taeyong took pleasure in seeing the way your eyes followed him in the mirror, eagerly waiting for his next move.
Taeyong unbuckled his belt and tugged his jeans down just enough, his cock bouncing up and slapping his abdomen as he released it from the confines of his briefs. A bead of precum was leaking from his head. Taeyong teased you by rubbing the head of his cock against your folds.
“Do you want to come? Wanna come as I pound this perfect pussy of yours with my cock? I don’t think you deserve it. You’ve been a bad kitten lately haven’t you? Sneaking around, hiding things from me, saying awful things about yourself, and making me worry…” Taeyong said, resting his chin against your shoulder as he met your gaze in the mirror.
“I’m sorry…” You whimpered, grinding your ass back against him.
“Are you really though?” Taeyong asked, his eyes narrowing at you.
“Yes. I’m so sorry.” You whined, growing desperate for release.
“Are you ever going to do something like this again, kitten?” He asked, slipping his hands under your shirt to roll your nipples in between his fingers.
“I won’t. I swear.”
Taeyong smirked, loving the sound of desperation in your voice.
“Do you promise? Tell daddy you promise to never do this again and he’ll give you what you want okay?”
He didn’t have to tell you twice before you were repeating over and over like a mantra, “I promise I’ll never do it again, daddy.” You fluttered your lashes at him in the mirror, hoping he’d sense your sincerity.
That was all Taeyong needed to see before backing up and sinking his cock deep into your pussy.
He groaned as your walls hungrily sucked him in, greedily accepting every inch of him.
You arched your back, raising your ass even higher in the air for him.
Taeyong was relentless in how he fucked you. His nails painfully dug into the flesh on your soft hips as he held onto them for support whilst he pounded you from behind.
“Do you hear how wet you are? This pussy is practically milking my cock.” Taeyong moaned, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.
He was right. You were so wet, the obscene squelching noises your pussy was making around his cock bounced off the four walls of the bathroom.
“Taeyong…” You moaned.
He moved one hand off your hip to rest against your hand that was lying on the counter, he grabbed your hand to lace your fingers together.
“That’s right baby. Look at yourself, look at how well you’re taking my cock…such a good girl for me, my beautiful good girl.”
You could’ve come right then and there just because of how dirty the words coming from Taeyong’s mouth were.
You felt warm and happy as he praised you, calling you a good girl for taking him so well.
Taeyong continued drilling into you, never losing the rhythm he had set or the speed he was going at. He kept repeating in your ear over and over how pretty you looked and how beautiful you were.
Usually compliments like that went in one ear and out the other, you never liked to dwell on them for long because you just didn’t believe them.
But now…right here, right now. Watching yourself in the mirror as Taeyong fucked you, the faces you were making, and the way your body instinctively rolled and grinded back against him.
Even you couldn’t deny the beauty of the scene before you.
You could see him in the mirror, watching as his hands gripped and groped at your flesh, his desire and want for you evident on his face, evident in the manner at which he was thrusting deep inside you as if his life depended on it.
Thrusting with a desperation that matched yours, you needed this, to feel him inside of you, filling and stretching your walls with a subtle sweet pain.
“Taeyong, I’m gonna come.” You warned, feeling yourself clench around him.
The essence of your shared arousal started to drip down your thigh.
“Then come for me.” Taeyong answered, reaching his hand around your waist to rub your clit, propelling you further into your state of euphoria.
You rocked your hips back against him, chasing after your own orgasm.
You moved to throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder but Taeyong was quick to push your head forward, reminding you with a slap on your ass to not look away from the mirror.
“I want you to watch as you come on my cock.” Taeyong growled, determination clear in his voice as he unsheathed his cock completely from your warmth only to slam his hips back into yours.
You squealed as Taeyong angled his thrusts upward to hit your g-spot. Your eyes welled with tears, and your hand gripped the edge of the counter as you braced yourself.
It only took Taeyong a few more strokes before you were clenching around him uncontrollably, your pussy creaming on his cock. You collapsed on the counter, too tired to hold yourself up anymore. You winced a little as Taeyong continued to drill into you, the pleasure turning into a slight burn as he overstimulated you.
You wiggled your hips, trying to bring your hiked up leg down from the counter whilst also inching away from Taeyong’s thrusts.
“Stay still.” Taeyong grunted, pinching your outer thigh.
Taeyong abused your poor cunt until he was ready to fill you with his seed. He made sure he was stuffed deep inside of you when he painted your walls with his cum.
Once the two of you had caught a minute to catch your breath, Taeyong carefully pulled out of you, making a mess between your thighs as he did so. Your empty pussy was now clenching on air, inadvertently pushing Taeyong’s cum out of your hole causing it to run down your inner thighs.
Taeyong leaned down to kiss the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you came down from your high.
Finally, Taeyong pushed himself off of you to allow you to rise up from the counter. He turned you around to face him so he could properly kiss you on the lips.
“Wait, where are you going?” Taeyong asked as you kissed him before untangling your limbs from his.
“To shower?” You answered, one hand already on the nozzle of the tap to turn the shower on.
You were a sweaty, sticky mess, in desperate need of a nice long shower.
Taeyong smirked, pulling you back into his chest, “We’re still not done here.”
Your face must’ve said it all because before you got the chance to whine about being tired Taeyong was already pressing you up against the wall.
“Spread your legs again. Nice and wide for me...Daddy’s going to make sure you get all clean again…”
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 3 years
Text
you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]
summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model
word count: 2.4k
tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers
It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.
You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.
You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.
You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.
He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.
You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.
"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.
You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.
The whole school knew, naturally.
"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.
"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.
"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.
"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.
You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.
Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.
"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."
You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.
"Uh..."
"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.
"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.
"It's charcoal."
"What?"
"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."
He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.
It didn't matter.
"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."
You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."
"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"
"... You want the drawing?"
"I'd love it, if that's okay."
"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."
He handled it with care.
The librarian jingled her little bell again.
"Thank you. So, see you?"
"Yep," you agreed.
He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.
-
You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.
You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.
When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.
He looked much too brunette.
You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.
Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.
Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...
You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.
The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.
In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.
"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.
You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.
"Hi, dolly."
"Weasley."
"Oh, not even a first name?"
"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.
"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.
"Hi, Weasley."
He smirked.
"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"
"Nah. You never stand still."
"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.
He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.
His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.
You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.
You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.
After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.
Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.
"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."
"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."
Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."
You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."
"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."
You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."
"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."
You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.
"Thank you."
He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."
"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."
"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.
You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.
"What's in the box?"
"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.
It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.
"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.
"It's a memory box."
"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."
You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.
"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."
"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"
"Not on your life."
"They're perfectly edible!"
"Sure, Fred."
-
The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.
"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"
"They thought you were sleeping!"
A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.
It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?
Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.
"Is it a prank?"
"You're thinking too small."
"A new product?"
"Still need to go bigger!"
"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.
"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."
"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.
"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."
"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"
Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."
"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.
"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."
"This is goodbye?"
"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"
"What do you want to ask me?"
Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.
"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.
"You will?"
"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.
Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.
He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.
"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.
"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.
Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"
You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.
He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."
Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."
699 notes · View notes
millie-55 · 3 years
Text
More Than Friends
summary: after introducing his two closest friends, Steve finds himself as the third wheel. When he learns that Bucky is acting less than traditionally, Y/N is forced to share why: Y/N loves them both. 
pairing: steve rogers x reader, bucky barnes x reader warnings: explicit sexual content. 18+ themes/kinks: unprotected sex (use a condom kids), cream-pie, jealous!steve, FWB!Bucky, sexual acts in public word count: 4k+ Adapted from my fic More Than Friends (not originally written for the MCU, but was my fic under a different penname) PART 1 | PART 2
Tumblr media
Distance. Steve has always struggled with it. Distance between his past and his present as he took on the world as Captain America. There had even had a time, where he was sure all he knew was lost behind him, before he found Bucky, but Steve had always had an anchor to keep him grounded. Y/N. He could have her close any time he needed, she reminded him of home, hell, she was home. Recently, however, the distance between them couldn’t be greater, even with her just sitting across the table from himself. It wasn’t his legs that hers were tangled with under the booth’s table in the dimly lit bar. Nor was it his arm wrapped around her shoulder as they looked over the menu. Instead, Y/N was snuggled up to his best friend, Bucky. Bucky didn’t know how it had gotten this far. Sitting at the bar with the pretty woman near in his lap as her finger moved over the menu. A hand rested on her bare shoulder, bright eyes looked across the table to his friend; Steve. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the situation, Y/N had been Steve’s best friend and since he had gotten her, Bucky had taken much of her attention. Putting the menu aside, Bucky leaned forward, smiling at his friend.
“You know that blonde at the bar seems to have eyes for you,” Bucky said as he noted towards a curvaceous blonde that had been stealing glances at his friend. “Maybe all you need to get out of this bad mood is to show a girl a good time.” He suggested.
“I’m not in a bad mood,” the blond male bit out, his fingers coming up to toy with the cross that hung around his neck. He dragged it across the chain slowly before bringing the chain up to rest against his lower lip. 
“Then go talk to her!” Bucky pushes, his arms slipping away from Y/N’s shoulder, “hell, she’s a looker. If you don’t I’ll take her home.”
In an instant, the blonde’s body had tensed. Had he really heard, what he thought he had. His lips parted slowly, the thin silver chain slipping from the pink flesh before dropping with a silent thump against the strength of his chest. “What the hell do you think you’re saying?” Steve sounded as his hands balled into fists beneath the table’s edge. “Y/N is literally sitting right beside you, man!” 
Bucky pulled back further from Y/N, his eyes dropping to his lap for a moment before rising back up to his friend. It was a complicated situation, would he understand? “Y/N and I have talked,” he started, “and right now, we’re not solidifying anything. Yeah, we go out on dates —among other things — but if she decided she wanted to go fuck some guy in a club she could, or if I wanted to take the woman out I can.”
Steve’s lips parted, almost in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?” He scoffed, “you got the most beautiful woman in the room on your arm and you won’t even grow up enough to—“ he couldn’t finish his words as a disproving sigh left his lips. Pulling out his wallet, he placed cash down on the table before standing. “I thought you were better than this,” he told his friend, his heart sinking low in his chest before his eyes fell on Y/N whose eyes glistened in the dim lighting of the bar. “And you, you deserve so much better—“
Bucky pushes his way out of the both, taking hold of his best friends arm in an attempt to stop him from leaving. “Steve, man wait—“
Steve turned around, shoving Bucky hand back. “No,” he told him firmly, “you don’t get to stand there and look at me like I’m the one in the wrong here. She’s one of my best friends, and one of my closest. She deserves to be treated like...” he trailed off as he failed to find the word. “Y/N deserves the world, and any guy in this place would be lucky to be where you are tonight and you’re going to waste it all on a girl you don’t even know you selfish prick.” He looked past his friend and to the tiny brunette in the booth. “I hope you’re happy—“ he spoke out almost bitterly before grabbing his coat and stalking off out the door. 
Bucky’ eyes fell away from the door and landed on Y/N as she rested in the booth with her eyes wide and glassy, and her lips parted. “You okay?” Bucky asked, his hand coming down to rest on her shoulder. 
“Yeah, I just-“ she sounded, her words a near whisper. “You guys shouldn’t be fighting about me—“ Y/N’s hands gripped at her coat, pulling it against her chest along with her purse as she stepped up from the booth. “You stay here. Go talk to that girl. I— I need to go after him.”
“He’s probably already in a cab Y/N—“
“He’s my best friend Bucky,” she reminded before pressing up onto her toes and kissing the corner of his mouth. A delicate hand rested over his chest for a moment as she pulled back, a heavy sigh taking her form. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
Turning away, Y/N moved out the door and into the darkness of the night. Eyes adjusted to the dim light of the street lights mixed with the blinding of passing cars as they sought out the familiar figure. Looking north and south there was no sign of Will, but she had to find him. Pulling her coat on over her dress she began to jog up towards Main Street. 
Her lungs burned in the cold night air, and her muscles tensed with each stride. Yet, she didn’t stop until she spotted a familiar beanie and golden hair in the distance. “Steve!” She called out in desperation, her legs carrying her further as a faster pace even if she felt as if she were about to collapse. When he didn’t stop, she called out to him again, “Steve!” Then a final time as he was in her reach, “Steve!” 
She caught his hand with her own, tugging him back stumbling through the crowd and into her frame. 
“Y/N?” He sounded, his free hand raising up to tug ear-buds from his ears. “What are you—“
“Fuck you for making me run!” Y/N cut him off, her hand leaving him to adjust her clothes just right. 
“What are you doing here?” He reiterated, “go back to the bar with that excuse of a boyfriend of yours.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Y/N sighed, a hand reaching up to push strands back and away from her face. 
“What is there for me to understand, Y/N?” Steve countered as he held his headphones in a tight fist. “Why do you let him do that to you? You deserve so much better than—“ 
The mesh of her lips against his swallowed his words in a desperate kiss. Y/N needed him to know that he was why she couldn’t commit fully to Bucky. No words could have captured her actions better. Pulling back, hands were gripping at his shirt, and her eyes fluttered open to take in the confusion on his face. 
“I couldn’t commit to him knowing that a piece of me belongs to you. I couldn’t just sit back and stop wondering what it would be like...” her teeth took hold of her lower lips as her eyes dropped down to the ground. 
A careful hand raised up, stroking the angle of her jaw before cupping her cheek. “You should have just told me Y/N...”
“And cross the line we had drawn? I couldn’t risk that,” she whispered back, tears building up in her eyes. “You’re my best friend Steve. You think I wanted to throw that all away because I wanted to see what happened if I took things a little further than we had agreed?” 
“So you just fuck my best friend instead?” Steve challenged, a thumb stroking away the tear that had slipped down her cheek. “You have a weird way of catching my attention Steve.” 
“You never seemed to want mine,” she muttered back, “not until Bucky and me...”
“Shhh…” he hushed her, his thumb stroking down her cheek and to her lips. “Things were complicated, and continue to further complicate themselves, don’t they? But the last things I need is for you to start pushing that idea around.” Sure, Steve was blatantly jealous back at the bar, but the last thing he wanted to hear was Y/N say it.
“Idea?” Y/N hummed, her hands gripped at the breast of his jacket to keep him close. “You mean that you’re--”
“Y/N,” Steve laughed out, his lips lowering to place a firm kiss to her forehead, “don’t. Let’s get a cab back to the apartment, okay? We can wait for Bucky there.”
Climbing into the back of the bright-colored taxi, Steve leaned forward and gave the address to the driver. He then settled back in his seat, his arm going around her shoulders to draw her close. Bright eyes glanced up to the rear-view and for a second they looked like a couple. His head had found the comfort of his chest, and her eyes had fluttered shut. She must be-- Oh! Thankfully, the range of the mirror didn’t go below the waist, as Y/N’s hand slid over the muscular expanse of his thigh and up to what was now a growing bulge in his jeans.
“Y/N…” his whispered out into her hair, but her eyes remained closed. A small smirk found full lips before she whispered out:
“Do you want me to stop?” It was barely audible, only loud enough for him to hear.
His head shook slowly, trying to keep his body calm, as to not draw the driver’s attention to him. He could feel her hand through the thick fabric of his jeans, stroking his cock as it continued to grow with arousal and carefully fondling his balls. A heavy breath slipped out his nose, his cock pressing hard at his denim with the desire of being freed. They were only 5 blocks away, but the city traffic had him biting his lip, it was taking too long. Needing the pressure of his arousal to subside, a hockey-worn hand reached across his lap before encroaching on the hem of her dress. It had already ridden up in the taxi, letting his fingers explore the soft expanse that guided him to her heat.  His hand slipped between her eager thighs and moved upwards to force them apart. The dress continued to rise until the fabric pooled at her hips. Glancing down - but only for a second - he marveled in the sight of the pale lace that kept him from her.
Steve returned his vision to the mirror, watching the driver assuring they wouldn’t get caught. His fingers then began to explore the warm lace of her panties, following them down to the heated arousal just above the seat. A finger circled for a moment, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from speaking. He just wanted to talk dirty in her ear, but he wouldn’t let himself, not here -- Fuck she was so wet.
A thick finger found the edge of her lace, dipping inside. There he explored her warmth and smirked at her body’s shudders. Her arousal was pooling in the confinement of her panties, welcoming his touch with warmth. Y/N’s body shuttered, her core clenching in the anticipation. His fingers pressed firmly around her entrance, easing running over her desperate fold before sliding up to her sensitive clit. Wet fingers slid and circled and Steve watched as she slowly began to unravel for him.
It was only when the careful ease of a foot on the break halted the car that Steve remembered that they were in the back seat of a city taxi. Hot and heavy, they had finally made it back to the apartment he shared with Bucky. Hands smelling like her pussy, Steve sorted through his wallet and tossed cash up ahead at the driver. He didn’t care about the change, instead, he rushed out of the taxi, guiding his tiny brunette friend with him. They rushed through the lobby, Y/N tripping over her heels and both ignoring the greeting of the doorman. Ears pounded with the need for one another, chest heaving with the anticipation of finally feeling the other against their skin.
The couple barreled into the elevator, Steve slamming the floor button down before backing Y/N up against the cold back wall. Rough hands gripped at the back of her thighs, lifting her up off the ground and guiding limbs around his waist.
“Steve-” Y/N hummed mindful that at any moment someone from another floor could join them.
Steve silenced her with a kiss as passionate as it was rough. Teeth bit at her full lower lip, indulging in it as it swelled under the pressure. A soft sigh left the young woman's lips, egging him on further.
Y/N’s soft eyes glanced up as the numbers lit up with each floor. “We’re almost there,” she whispered, her eyes falling shut was his finger’s hooked on the sides of her panties and he slowly lowered he back down to the floor. Steve dropped to his knees, guiding the lace down before having her step out of them.
“Save us some time,” he smirked and the door chimed. Shoving the fabric in his pocket, Steve led the way to the front door. This fingers fumbled with the key ring, finally finding the copper and sliding it into the lock. The pair stepped into the apartment and were attached at the lips before the door could shut completely.
Y/N attempted to guide him back towards the bedroom, but the forward had no patience. “The couch,” he mumbled against her lips and stumbled back to the plush cushions. Pulling her down with him, Steve reached between their forms and pulled the waist of his jeans free, then the zipper. Y/N’s delicate touch met his, her hands guiding his denim and boxer-briefs down over his thick quads to rest around his ankles. Smirking, Y/N rested her knees outside his hips and began to roll her hips over his eager girth. “No more teasing Y/N,” Steve hummed, a hand coming to caress her cheek, “no more games.”
Her lips parted slowly as she nodded. Hands pulled her dress up around her navel before one dropped down to his cock. She stroked it slowly before guiding it to her damp arousal. Taking in a breath, her tight walls began to come down around him in a slow movement. Her breath hitched in her throat, her head leaning back as she sunk to take him hole. With his cock buried deep inside her, Y/N let her eyes scan over his features, much like herself, he was caught up in desire.
A careful hand grasped at the thick hair at the nape of Y/N’s neck, guiding her mouth to his for a sloppy kiss. She let out a quiet moan against his mouth, her lips beginning to rock in a steady rhythm. Y/N could feel him cuss against her lips before be let his head fall to the crook between her neck and shoulder. His hot breath washed up against her neck before be began to suck on the supple flesh there. His hands fell to her back, a groan leaving his lips out of enjoyment. The friction of their bodies was pure bliss, he could feel his climax building.
Wanting to see more of her, he drew a hand back to her neckline and tugged it down. First came the sturdy hold of her strapless bra, but with another swift movement, her full breasts were free. Perfect. “So beautiful, Y/N,” he groaned, why hadn’t he let himself notice this sooner?
Steve craved to see more of her, to explore every inch, but the tightness of her core around his cock was quickly becoming too much. “Y/N,” he breathed out, his hands dropping to her hips to help increase the pace in which she road him.
“Steve,” she gasped out in return, her breast bouncing with each rise and fall of her core onto his length. Y/N’s hands gripped at the fabric of her shirt, her mouth falling agape to release a shrill moan. She was close, and so was he.
Bracing his heels on the carpet, Steve raised his hips up to pound his cock up to her limits. His seeds exploded in thick streams into her core that milked every drop with each strong clench of her own orgasm. Breathless, Y/N pulled herself up one final time and off of Steve’s cock that flopped down against his t-shirt covered abs, still half hard. Pulling her dress back up to her middle, Y/N watched as his thick seed oozed from her mound and down the inside of her legs. “That was-” she managed but cut herself short when she heard the subtle click of the front door opening.
Bucky strolled in the front door, tossing his jacket off to the armchair casually before his eyes realized what he had walked in on. He had left the blonde at the bar thinking he would have a long night of reconciliation ahead of him, instead, he found his girlfriend fucking his best friend. “Well,” he leaned his head to the side, a small smirk coming to play on his lips, “I guess it’s my turn.”
221 notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 3 years
Text
Burn The Witch 13 - Trouble [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.
Summary: Fights can be inevitable.
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
Oh God damn it.
This mission was not supposed to include anything from your real life, and it certainly was not supposed to include your real life ex-boyfriend.
Not only was this going to make things very, very complicated, it also put the entire operation in danger. No part of the background that was specifically created for your cover had any details on your ex relationships and you didn’t think you would have to come up with something now.
Well. For what it was worth, you weren’t the one who came up with it.
“Just joking man. I’m her ex-boyfriend but no worries, I pose no danger.”
Bucky didn’t even dignify that with an answer and you heaved a sigh, trying to control the anger bubbling in your stomach.
“Yeah,” you managed to say, “Yeah, we used to—um, we used to date.”
Bucky frowned, “Didn’t you say you moved here two months ago?”
“I did move here two months ago.”
“We used to date back in Oregon,” Julian explained and Bucky huhed.
“Yet here you are.”
“Yeah you know, the big apple,” Julian motioned around you, “I just got a job here and I figured I could come and see Y/N. Small town people have to look out for each other, you see.”
You gritted your teeth, watching him with narrowed eyes.
“She took you there yet?” Julian asked Bucky “Cannon Beach?”
“No,” you answered on his behalf and Julian clicked his tongue.
“I guess you could take him with you when you visit next month,” he said, “Surely you are visiting next month?”
“I don’t think I am.”
“Come on, no way.” he said, his voice filled with disbelief. “It’s sand castles contest time, you love that contest!”
Right.
Julian had always been the best at playing the civilian and memorizing the back story of any cover. He was great at lying and that was why every mission you had gone on with him was that easy, he could fool anyone.
Including you.
“She came in fourth place two years ago, she made this dragon castle, you should’ve seen it.” He told Bucky, and you rolled your eyes.
Fourth place.
Easy enough to make someone believe, hard enough to find a trace of on the internet.
Julian was an asshole for sure, but he was a great spy and now you were beginning to remember why though every mission with him was a success, you had still avoided it even before your break up.
This was what he did, he took over every single assignment, no matter who was the leader.
Not this time. This was your mission and your mission only.
“Y/N, did you….” Julian let out a chuckle, “Did you tell him about the time your grandma caught us at the—“
“It was good so see you,” you cut him off, glaring at him “But you should probably go now, I’m kind of busy.”
Julian paused only for a moment before holding up his hands, gesturing surrender.
“Okay,” he said, “It was nice to see you too. Again.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“It was nice to meet you Bucky,” he said, “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”
He walked away from you and you closed your eyes for a moment, leaning your head back to the wall.
“Fuck this shit,” you murmured under your breath without even realizing it wasn’t something your cover would say, and opened your eyes to look up at Bucky.
“Was he bothering you or something?” he asked you and you scoffed.
“Please,” you muttered but then pulled yourself together. “He’s not…that type no. Just annoying, that’s all.”
“Are you sure? Because I can—“
“No,” you shook your head fervently, “No, please don’t. It’s fine, it’s just— who he is.”
How dare he?
How dare he try to take over your mission? You had put so much thought into this, coming up with multiple strategies, trying to convince yourself that-
That you were doing the right thing. Even if you felt yourself getting lost in this cover, it didn’t mean that Julian could swoop in and take this over as if you were a rookie agent in need of help.
This whole assignment belonged to you, not to anyone else.
If you were going to betray Bucky’s trust and feel like the most terrible person in the world, the least you could do was not let Julian take the credit.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” you attempted to change the subject and Bucky tilted his head.
“Come on Y/N, don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“You don’t have to pretend like it’s fine,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I mean you don’t have to pretend, ever.”
Okay, this was too much. You could almost feel your defenses going up, the whole hangover and stress and anger and now Bucky being able to tell you were faking something, it was all getting the best of you and if you weren’t careful, you would say something you would regret later.
“I’m sorry?”
“I just,” he took a deep breath, “Sometimes you’re like…too good to be true, you know? And Sam has this theory that you’re—you’re somehow you’re doing this for me or the people around you but you don’t have to.”
“You think I’m pretending?” you asked, your voice coming out way too defensive for your own cover but you could hardly care.
You were slipping, and you didn’t have the luxury to slip. It seemed to take Bucky by surprise because for the first time since you had met, you were-
Aggressive. That was the word. Less like your cover and more like your real self.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he said and you let out a bitter chuckle, nodding.
“Yeah,” you said, “Okay. I’m kind of busy you see, I have so much to do at the shop so I should probably go back inside.”
“Y/N—“ he started but you pushed yourself off the wall.
“No it’s fine,” you managed to say, “This is me not pretending, for the record. I’ll see you later I guess.”
With that, you walked past him and went back to the milkshake shop, fury still poisoning your insides.
                                                 ***
You could hardly wait until you could go back to the base. Even though you thought that by then you would have calmed down, that didn’t seem to be the case.
You were fucking good at your job, and you were going to prove it to anyone and everyone. Without any help.
“Is he here yet?” you asked Chloe who rushed to greet you as soon as you stepped out of the elevator into the base and she cleared her throat.
“Who?”
“Don’t even, I know you heard what happened,” you cut her off and she shifted her weight.
“Yeah. I read his report.”
“Exactly. Where is he?”
“Okay, before I tell you where he is I feel like it’s important that you remember we’re not supposed to kill our own agents,” she said, “The paper work is a nightmare.”
“Where is he?”
“Keith says it’s considered rude to kill your team members.”
“Chloe,” you looked her in the eye “Where is he?”
She heaved a sigh, “In the training room.”
“Great, more weapons to use,” you muttered as you walked away from her to walk downstairs to the training room. Anger was pulsing through your veins and you kicked the door open, making the pair currently trying to hit each other stop.
“Get out,” you nodded at the other agent and Julian let out a small chuckle before he wiped his face with the towel. The agent rushed out of the room and you narrowed your eyes at Julian.
“You look upset,” he commented, “Want to exercise it out of your system?”
“What the fuck was that?”
Julian uncapped his water bottle to take a huge sip. “Come on, I saw an opening-“
“You made that opening,” you cut him off, “And crossed the line.”
“Oh please,” he waved a hand in the air, “It worked out perfectly fine.”
You could barely control your voice now, “You almost blew my fucking cover!”
“I would never,” he said, “Trust me, if anything I did you a favor.”
You dug your fingernails into your palms, “A favor?”
“Yeah. Guys love competition, an ex-boyfriend being in the picture will even speed up the process.”
“This is my mission.” You said through your teeth, “You don’t get to make spontaneous decisions without running them by me first.”
“When was the last time you had a proper fight?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You always get cranky if you haven’t had a good challenge in a while,” he stated, “A good fight. I take it your boyfriend doesn’t tire you out enough?”
The innuendo wasn’t lost on you and you let out a small chuckle.
“You couldn’t tire me out if you tried.”
He tilted his head, “Is that a promise?”
You shot him a look and lunged but he easily dodged you, scowling.
“Come on Y/N,” he taunted you, “I won’t hold back, you shouldn’t either.”
“Oh don’t worry, I won’t hold back.” you grinned at him and darted to grab at him but he twisted your hand to push you back, making your back hit the wall. You pulled your hair into a ponytail and jumped to wrap your legs around his neck, spinning in the air to shove him to the ground. As soon as you both fell, you straddled him and pulled the dagger out of your boots to raise it and slam it to the ground right next to his head. A sly grin pulled at his lips as if he was having the time of his life.
“Look at you babe,” he said, “You got even better.”
You were very, very aware of the position you had both found yourself in. You used to find this whole thing hot, it was like foreplay to you. Mock fighting, training, all of it -especially with Julian- it used to be your second favorite activity.
Now, all you could think about was just how much more fun it would be with Bucky.
Maybe Julian was right. Maybe you were just a wild card.
A smirk curled your lips and you leaned in slightly to lock your eyes with his, looking down at him.
“My mission,” you growled. “Not yours. The next time you try to control what’s mine, I won’t be so nice.”
You pushed the dagger into your boot again and got off of him before storming out of the training room, still trying to keep your anger in check.
For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t work.
                                               ***
No matter what you did for the rest of the evening, it just wasn’t enough to calm you down. Now to think of it, it wasn’t even completely about Julian and his nonsense, it was because—
You didn’t want Bucky to think you were pretending, even if you were.
Just because it was a cover, didn’t mean your reactions and the happiness you felt with him was fake as well. But he could still tell something was off— Sam could still tell something was off despite your best efforts.
Great.
You poured wine into your glass and changed the channel, trying to decide whether you should go and bug Keith or not. You heaved a sigh and tore your eyes from the screen to lean your head back, nibbling on your lip.
Dealing with feelings was much more difficult than taking down a target.
You groaned to yourself and took a huge sip of your wine, but before you could grab your phone you heard the doorbell ring. Your head shot up and you grabbed your gun to walk to the door, but as soon as you looked through the peephole to avoid yet another mistake like actually opening the door to Julian, you froze.
Bucky.
….Fuck.
“Um- just a second!” you called out before rushing to your room to hide your gun, then quickly looked around the apartment to see if there was anything that could tip him off. Overall, it looked perfectly civilian and you ran a hand over your face to pull yourself together.
Your cover was supposed to be angry at him.
You threw your shoulders back and walked to the door to open it, then leaned sideways to the doorframe, your lips pulled into a slight pout.
“Hi,” you murmured and his gaze lingered on your shorts and flimsy tank top before he looked away for a moment.
Ah.
Compared to 1940s, it was almost the same as you opening the door in your underwear.
“Hey,” he said and held up a small box of bagels. “Listen, I know you’re angry but um…I was hoping we could talk?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Keith’s door opening and he stepped out but as soon as he caught the sight of Bucky on your doorstep, his eyes widened and he froze. He quickly fixed his jacket so that it would cover his gun tucked into the back of the waistband of his jeans and gawked at you.
“What the fuck?” he mouthed and you got momentarily distracted, causing Bucky to follow your gaze over his shoulder to Keith.
And Keith, the badass spy, probably the only spy in the whole division who could give you a hard time in a fight, whom you had seen take down five armed soldier by himself with no weapons-
He waved at Bucky.
“Hi- hi neighbor,” he stammered as he turned to you and you shot him a forced smile.
“Hi.”
“Thanks for the cookies, I was going to bring you your plate the other day,” he said, “Do you need it now?”
Translation: Do you need back up?
“No, no,” you shook your head, “No worries, it’s fine.”
“Alright then. See you later.”
You cleared your throat and took the box from Bucky.
“Come in,” you turned around to walk to the living room, hearing him close the door behind him. It didn’t take him long to step into the living room and his eyes darted around as if trying to take in as much as he could. You figured it was natural, homes always gave clues about who their owners were.
Not to mention, as an ex-assassin he was automatically finding the nearest exits and things to use as weapons.
You would know. You did the same thing whenever you were in a new place.
You peeked into the box and frowned.
“What is this?”
“To be honest with you, I have no idea,” Bucky admitted, “It’s supposed to be a bagel. I just asked the guy to give me the most modern and weirdest combination.”
“Is this—is this glitter?”
“He said it was edible glitter, yeah. With lavender and cheese with honey.”
“Why is there two of them?”
He put his hands into his pockets. “I figured I could try one.”
You blinked a couple of times, “You want to try a lavender cheese honey bagel with edible glitter.”
Even the sound of it seemed to be painful for him but he pressed his lips together and nodded fervently. “Mm hm.”
You tried to stop the smile threatening to warm your face and put the box on the coffee table before looking up at him.
“Bucky, listen—“
“I’m sorry,” he cut you off, “That comment back there, it was so uncalled for.”
You crossed your arms, “Why did you say that though?” you asked, “Is that—is that what you think?”
“No,” he shook his head fervently, “Of course not.”
“Then?”
“I don’t know if I can give an explanation without it sounding incredibly weird to you.”
“Try me.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he said “It’s like— the way you are, it’s like someone somehow looked into my whole life back in 40s before everything and saw every single detail of what I wanted and made you.”
Yeah. That was exactly what you and the division had done.
“I’m not used to…” he motioned at you, “This. It’s like you’re too good to be true, like you’re perfect, does that make sense?”
A dull pain flipped your stomach and you stared up at him, trying to ignore your throat tightening before you went to sit down on the couch.
“I’m not,” you rasped out, “I’m not perfect. You’ll see it sooner or later.”
That right there was as honest as you could be with him. You rubbed at your eyes and grabbed the wine glass to take a huge sip as he sat down beside you, his gaze fixated on you.
“I’m sorry too,” you said, “It was an overreaction, it’s just… Julian’s effect on me.”
He stayed silent for a couple of seconds as if he had no idea how to approach the topic.
“Rough break up?”
“You could say that,” you scoffed a laugh, looking down at your glass, “I mean….you think you know a person, right? And they have no problem with proving you otherwise, prove that you didn’t know them at all. They—they betray your trust and everything was a lie all along and—“
And just like that, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, making you stop talking.
You were doing exactly the same. It was just another version of the betrayal you had seen from Julian, and you were doing the same thing to Bucky.
He thought he knew you, and you would prove him otherwise, and betray his trust and walk away when this mission was over. In fact, by the time it was over, he would hate you even more than you hated Julian.
You cursed under your breath and took another sip of your wine, trying to ease the crushing guilt making you feel almost breathless.
“Sorry,” you managed to say, “I didn’t mean to unleash it on you, I just don’t want him anywhere near me.”
“I could pay him a visit if you want?”
You pulled your brows together, distracted for a moment before you tilted your head to the side.
“What?”
“To warn him to stay away from you.”
“Uh, I appreciate the chivalry,” you said, “But I can take care of myself.”
“Never said you couldn’t,” he pointed out, “It’s just the old-fashioned thing.”
“Oh the old-fashioned thing?” you repeated with a smile and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Yeah,” he said, “You know, taking care of my girl.”
You thought your heart would leap out of your throat as the warmth spread through you before the idea of betraying him hit you once again. The words felt like they were trying to escape from your mouth, the urge to come clean getting heavier and heavier before you leaned in to brush your lips against his, making him wrap his arms tight around you to pull you closer. You settled in his embrace, the back of your eyes burning but you blinked a couple of times to get rid of tears. He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling your scent.
“Can we stay like this for a while?” you asked and he smiled, pressing a kiss on top of your head.
“Sure thing,” he said and nodded at the TV screen, “What is this movie about?”
“I don’t know, it has cars and criminals,” you said, the guilt making you feel almost nauseous, “Bucky?”
“Hm?”
He would never understand what your confession actually meant, but you felt as if you would choke if you didn’t say it.
“I like who I am when I’m with you.”
A chuckle rumbled in his chest before he reached out to caress your cheekbone.
“Makes two of us darling,” he murmured, “I like who I am when I’m with you too.”
A bitter smile curled your lips and you bit inside your cheek to control yourself, sniffling inaudibly before you closed your eyes, enjoying his warmth.
Chapter 14
581 notes · View notes
sleepingdeath-light · 3 years
Note
reading the crossover headcanons for TOH was amazing!
i wanted to request a crossover with TOH and Steven Universe if possible! (also with Hunter x Reader) You can decide between reader being half-gem, like Steven, or fully gem! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay! Aand I really love your headcanons! You make them long and detailed! It's truly amazing.
Crossover Headcanons | SU x TOH [Hunter x Gem//Hybrid!Reader]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
thank you for requesting, anon
These are written with a gender neutral reader in mind and have a general chronology from the reader’s last moments in little homeworld until they end up with Hunter, so apologies if this gets long!
Note : this is the first time I’ve written for the SU canon, so I’m not as experienced with that universe. Also my portrayal of these characters is still pretty rocky, so I may rework this in the future.
The first few months you spent in Little Homeworld had felt almost like a dream come to life; freedom to be yourself and explore a world full of organic life without the restrictions placed on you by the diamonds? It was fantastic! However, that feeling of unrestricted feeling soon started to grow stale as you realise that the growth of the small colony had already started to stagnate—and that not all humans were welcoming of intergalactic immigrants like your kind.
So to ease your mind you opted to take the warp to the next star system over—craving that same sense of excitement that you had during the gem war
Simply standing on the warp again was enough to get your blood pumping with a reignited vigour for exploration
A feeling so palpable that you failed to notice the array of spindly cracks that spanned the surface of the device, and the way that a sickly dull light pulsated beneath your feet (the sight accompanied by a warning hum far too low for you to notice)
Though you couldn’t ignore the way the warp didn’t immediately go off like usual, nor could you neglect the searing pain that spread through your veins and constricted your throat; leaving you in so much pain that you couldn’t even move or scream before your vision was engulfed in a glitching, sickeningly bright light
It must have been several hours later when you woke up, based on how high the sun was in the sky… was the sky that red before?
Your head was pounding and although your vision was blurry, yet you couldn’t ignore how different your surroundings were from the earth you were used to
The sky was a faint red and the ground beneath your feet was dusted with deep maroon grass—it was soft and warm under your fingertips but with how much organic matter there was you knew that this wasn’t a colony
Hell, you didn’t even arrive on a warp on this end, so either you had been transported to somewhere else because a malfunction (unusual, but likely) or someone had taken you from the receiving warp and dropped you off in the middle of a clearing (far less likely)
Suddenly struck with worry, you sat up and moved your clothes to get a good look at your gem, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw it undamaged (clearly you’d landed where you woke up as most organics would have tried to remove it from your body before dumping you)
Realising that you were mostly safe you slowly rose to your feet and decided to explore your new environment, hand hovering near your gem in case you needed to defend yourself from whatever creatures had made their home here—trying to make yourself appear as small, quiet and unnoticeable as possible as you went
However, your efforts seemed to be in vein as you were quickly greeted by an excitable and loud human girl who practically screamed her welcome to you
You were torn between fleeing and fighting her when she offered her hand and introduced herself as “Luz the human”, her demeanour quite closely mirroring what you’d heard about Steven when he was younger from his mothers—it was almost endearing how much she tried to hold in her joy at seeing another “human”. You almost didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth as she walked you back to her home.
You were accosted at the door by an organic tube with an owl’s face that quickly and gleefully introduced itself as Hooty—the creepy, but rather friendly, house demon
Luz made an effort to hastily brush him off and hurry you both inside where you met with the other two inhabitants of the home as well as Luz’s “awesome girlfriend”, Amity.
Eda, an older witch with grey hair that hardly suited her age, greeted you with muted suspicion, not even taking her eyes off of you as she addressed the human at your side—seemingly unsure of your motives but trusting herself to be stronger than you (if her grip on her staff was anything to go by)
King, however, was much more brazen and blatant in his distrust of you, stomping over and pointing an accusing claw up at you as he threatened you in every way he could muster (even if all that got him was a halfhearted coo from you that left the creature more frustrated and downtrodden than before)
The guest, Amity, meanwhile, looked over at you with disinterest before she caught a glimpse of your (colour) gem peeking out from your clothing—immediately pointing it out and questioning you about it, much to your chagrin
This inevitably led to a very long and semi-complicated conversation discussing the intricacies of your species and how, no, you’re technically not a human
No you weren’t trying to deceive Luz, either, you just felt too awkward to correct her
But when all was said and done (and you were all out of steam after a several hour session of intense questioning and frustration at miscommunications) they seemed much more relaxed around you—even willing to let you stay with them, at Luz’s request, so long as you pulled your weight around the house and helped to keep them safe
And, really, how hard could that be? You fought in an intergalactic war so taking out a few organics should be a piece of cake (as Steven would say)
After spending a few weeks in this strange new world you had come to realise one specific thing; it wasn’t easy. It was, in fact, the exact opposite.
If you had to bubble one more guard you were going to scream
What had they done to make this Emperor hate them so much?
It felt as though half of your time was spent bubbling, blocking or disabling people that had made their way to the Owl House—and the rest was spent painstakingly explaining your abilities and species to Amity, Lilith and Luz
Granted, that wasn’t the most stressful part of your stay
No
That was hands down the stresses that came with visits from Luz’s friends from Hexside: the endlessly kind and protective Willow and the ever-curious and annoyingly quick witted Gus
That being said, you did appreciate their enthusiasm to learn about and accommodate you—even if the look Willow gave you when you spoke about the empire’s treatment of organic life did leave you rather shaken
So what little free time you had was spent learning about the local culture and sharing your experiences with them
Training with Amity and Eda
Helping Willow with her plants in whatever way you can based on your gem
Creating gem clones to help Gus perfect his illusions even further
Teaching Lilith and Luz about your abilities as well as those of your fellow gems, even helping the latter learn to write using gem glyphs
It was heartwarming to see others so passionate about your home, even if their insistence on pushing you to your limits could be rather frustrating (especially early in the mornings when your patience ran thin)
However, the longer you spent there the more members of the Emperor’s Coven (amongst others) you ended up coming across. One particularly memorable instance occurred when you were escorting a fretting Amity through Bonesborough with the twins (who’s presence you had grown rather fond of as their visits became more frequent).
Ed had dragged Em back to the library a good few minutes ago, leaving you and Amity to your own decides as you weaved in and out of the foot traffic—only to stop completely when the youngest Blight suddenly froze before grabbing your hand and darting off to an adjacent alleyway
As you went to protest, she promptly clamped one hand over your mouth and gestured rather violently for you to stay quiet before nodding towards a figure just a bit away from you
From the golden mask and white cloak you knew they were a member of the Emperor’s Coven—but you’d seen them before, on the posters littered around the city, each exploring passersby to join their coven
Golden Guard
That was a definite threat
So you passed the girl a spare cloak and did what you could to mask your own appearance before carefully making your way back home, shopping be damned—one hand over your gem just in case he happened to notice you
Though thankfully he didn’t
Not that it stopped you from filing him away as someone to be wary of anyway; he was the emperor’s right hand man, after all, so there was no such thing as being “too cautious”
And for a while that’s exactly what it was, not that you saw much of him that is, but from what you’d been told about Luz and Amity’s run ins with him you were glad to have never seen him face-to-face. If you had, you were almost certain he wouldn’t come out unscathed—teenage protege or not.
So with all that in mind, the last that you were expecting to see on a relatively peaceful Saturday evening was the unmasked Golden Guard practically unconscious and leaning on Luz and Eda for support as they burst through the door
Completely ignoring Hooty as usual as they carefully laid him down on the seat beside you (after you’d hurriedly gotten up, that is)
He looked to be in an awful state, with his visible skin bloodied, bruised and scarred whilst his usually pristine uniform was tattered and caked in dirt and what seemed to be even more of his blood
Seeming to notice your distress, Eda briefly addressed you and her sister before sending you all off to gather supplies (or heal if your gem allowed it)
“The kid’s been through a lot, but he’s with us now. Trust me, I wouldn’t have carried him all this way if I had any doubts about it.”
And that was that
It took Hunter (as he introduced himself) over a week to even be able to get out of bed and walk around unassisted—and whilst he actively avoided speaking about what had happened to him, you had a feeling that Belos was somehow involved
Though things were still rather tense for a month or so after he arrived, no matter how hard Luz tried to integrate him (and no matter how polite and welcoming Willow and Gus tried to be)
And you didn’t even want to recall the shouting match that occurred when Amity saw him in the living room with Luz….
It seemed as though he was just more content to shut himself away with L’il Rascal and only interact with Luz and Eda; the former to learn from her and the latter because she wouldn’t let him get away with anything but
That wasn’t even mentioning the palpable tension between him and Lilith (she would only say that it was from their time in the coven—and Luz suspected he’d annoyed her a bit too much—but nothing else would come of it)
But the others were worried about him, so you were sent in as a neutral party to talk with him about… things. You weren’t really told what and you didn’t have the time to ask.
Initially he was incredibly closed off and would only address you briefly, barely even acknowledging your presence as he gave his full attention to the scattered papers on his desk, each depicting a different spell and each ever so slightly off
So, as gently as you could you took the quill from him and drew a simple glyph on a spare scalp of paper, carefully leading him through the motions before leaning back and activating the spell (and smiling at his much more openly interested expression)
That then sparked a deep conversation about different types of magic—specifically wild magic and glyphs—as you shared what you knew about the topic with one another, every so often breaking off into laughter or patient silence as he’d run across the room to show you his notes or books he’d found
Naturally this would lead to him asking you about where you came from and you discussing your origins with him
Homeworld
The Diamond Authority
The gem war
Colonies
Soldiers
Shattering
The Crystal Gems
Everything
He was incredibly easy to talk to as he listened with a genuine intensity to what you said, nodding along and even asking well thought out questions about your world where appropriate
Depending on how close you were, he may even ask to see your gem and ask about its purpose
If you let him touch it, he’d be so very gentle, almost treating you as though you were made of glass—maybe even sketching it down and noting down your abilities and weaknesses in his personal notebook and apologising if it was weird
This mutual interest in magic and your shared experiences of either having to conform to a specific role your whole life [full gem reader] or feeling out of place and weaker because of your shortcomings [half gem reader] would be the basis of your friendship turned relationship. The transition between the two would be so incredibly seamless and slow that you wouldn’t even notice it happening—one moment you two were best friends sparring and the next you were hiding your blushing face in his neck as he hugs you and apologises for hitting you a bit too hard with his magic.
Your relationship would be sweet and slow and genuine
Hunter is new to receiving any kind of affection, so you’d probably have to teach him a thing or two—but he’d learn quite quickly so don’t worry
He’d spend hours studying your culture and language just to write you notes or offer you affirmations in ways unique to your culture, even calling you “my (Y/n)” after a while
Likewise, the first time you called him “my Hunter” he was left red in the face for the rest of the day (he loved it, though, so don’t stop)
But the moment someone makes a teasing remark about how soft he’s gotten (usually one of the Blight siblings or his own younger sister figure, Luz), Hunter will partially revert to being cold in public (whilst still being affectionate and openly touch starved in private)
In short, your relationship with him would be built on a foundation of mutual trust, affection and understanding that sprouted from friendship and honest conversations about your passions and pasts
158 notes · View notes