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rafesbabygirlx · 1 month ago

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A Lot of Time has Passed |Part 1

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: Writing this with inspiration from season 4 part 1. Rewriting plot lines. No mention of Y/N but is written in her perspective. Was inspired of Rafe’s new character arc which I love but thought I’d make it a bit more interesting and messy.

Also- you have to imagine that Maybank reader is intertwined in the previous seasons. And was involved with Rafe. She understands him more than Sofia. She is JJs half sister, takes after her mom, brunette brown eyes tanned skin.

Not really proofread

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: smut (fingering) tough discussions, loss of life (Ward, Big John) Rafe can get a little mean, sorry Sofia lovers.

It’s been 18 months since you returned to the island. While you’ve stayed in touch with your half-brother JJ and the rest of the Pogues, you only saw them once in a while since you had made them travel to the mainland. You relished the escape from the chaos of the Outer Banks. Although you maintained a connection with your mother, it wasn’t until you decided to move in with her that you saw her again. You never imagined you’d come back, but hearing about the Pogues’ long-overdue success and newfound wealth drew you back to celebrate.

Once you arrived, you made an effort to keep a low profile. You headed straight to the old house you and JJ used to share. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how much he paid for it, but the joy of being back with your little brother overshadowed that irritation. Everything felt just as it had in the past, and you slipped seamlessly into your role as their ‘older sister.’

You found yourself speaking with Sarah down by the docks, where she asked how you were doing and how things were going—just the usual small talk. Then came the question you dreaded: “Have you seen him?” You stared out at the water, trying to push thoughts of him aside while enjoying your time with the Pogues. Subconsciously, you gripped your gold necklace by its 2 charms, one a ‘V’ initial and the other a baby rattle as you replied, “No, I haven’t, and I’m hoping to keep it that way.”

You hadn’t planned to stay long, just a week or two at most, with hopes of hanging out in the Cut, grabbing some groceries, and indulging in shopping at boutiques you never go to do before. You wanted to avoid anything that might draw attention to you. Living with your mom—who was now clean and remarried—had been a breath of fresh air. She shielded you from worry, allowing you to focus on taking care of what you needed to and building a decent savings while working a stable job, free from the burdens your father had imposed.

After chatting a bit more, you hugged Sarah and rejoined the group. They were deep in conversation about a bike race happening the next day. Glancing at JJ's bike in the yard, you felt a mix of confusion and admiration for his confidence. Although you hadn’t planned to join them for obvious reasons, he managed to convince you to come along. With such a big crowd, you thought you could easily blend in and suppress the anxious flutter in your chest at the thought of running into Rafe. Confident, yet now he’s all you can think about.

————————————

The last time you saw him was when you returned home from South America. While you were glad to see him, you dreaded the conversation about his father. After leaving the group at the airport, you headed to Tannyhill. As you entered, he greeted you with a warm hug, lifting you off your feet and showering you with kisses. He set you down, his face bright with a smile, contrasting sharply with the sadness that clouded your own.

Before you set out for South America to help John B with his dad, Rafe had stopped you just before boarding the plane. He promised he’d be a better person for you and wanted you to return from the trip to him. With that, he slipped one of his silver rings onto your finger and kissed you, giving a nod that it was okay to go.

There was always a powerful connection between you two, despite the class divide and his intense disdain for Pogues. You were the exception. Everyone adored you—both Pogues and Kooks alike—especially when you worked as the favorite bartender at the Country Club. You and Rafe bonded over the absence of your mothers and the shortcomings of your fathers. It was a match made in an unlikely paradise.

Though you were never officially together, largely due to his ego, you often went out publicly. Despite JJ and the group’s disdain, you convinced them—and yourself—that it meant nothing, even though deep down, you knew it did. The same could be said for Rafe with Topper and Kelce. No matter what happened, you both struggled to fully pull away from each other. Until that night.

You led Rate to the living room of Tannyhill and gently broke the news of his father's death. The color drained from his face, and his breathing grew rapid and heavy. In an attempt to console him, you placed your hand, adorned with his ring, on his arm, but he abruptly yanked it away and stood up, clearly overwhelmed. Before you could fully explain the circumstances surrounding the tragedy, Rafe erupted in anger. "This is what happens when people get close to someone like John B! Pogues are nothing but worthless pieces of shit, I trusted you all with him!" He lashed out, placing the blame on them as if Ward's insatiable greed hadn't played a role in his decisions. It was bewildering that he believed any of us wanted his father there in the first place. This wasn't any of ours fault.

"Rafe..." you pleaded, desperation lacing your voice. "I don't want to hear it! I can't even look at you right now. All those things I said to you, and you let this happen?! You got my father killed?!" His voice thundered with rage, his eyes dark and wild, veins bulging in his neck.

"You really think we wanted this? John B lost his dad too, you know that?! This was NEVER supposed to happen. I'm so sorry." But Rafe didn't want to hear your apology. "Get away from me! Don't come back! I never want to see you again," he shouted, the finality of his words slicing through you. You felt the tears streaming down your face, sorrow intertwined with disbelief. How could he say this after all the loving promises he had made before leaving? You sat in stunned silence for a moment, then carefully slid the ring off your finger and placed it on the coffee table. With a heavy heart, you turned and walked out of Tannyhill. Rafe didn't even glance back; he couldn't. Deep down, he knew he didn't mean any of it, but his anger always got the best of him.

————————————

As you emerged from your thoughts, everyone decided to head inside for the night, giving JJ some much-needed rest before the race the next day. You settled into your old bed, replacing the dust-covered sheets, and despite the whirlwind of emotions flooding your mind about being back, sleep quickly overtook you. Before long, JJ was shaking you awake, urging you to hurry and get ready.

When you arrived at the racecourse, you kept your distance from the group, sticking close to Cleo to avoid any potential confrontations.

JJ understood what was going on without needing to ask, and he respected your space; having you there, after all this time, was what mattered most to him. It was a relief, allowing you to watch from afar as Rafe interacted with Topper, their tension palpable from a distance.

As the race began, excitement surged through you. Ju took the lead, but then Rafe unexpectedly tapped him, sending both of them flipping over their bikes, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

Once the race concluded, you made your way towards the group. Topper walked by, not being able to help gloat saying something to Sarah. He then caught your eye, a smug smile on his face, but he chose not to say anything, merely walking away while shaking his head. You refused to let it bother you; Topper's opinions meant nothing, yet you knew that this would undoubtedly reach Rafe, and you hoped to slip away before that happened-at least, that was what you hoped.

As the crowd began to thin out, you felt exposed among the remaining Pogues and Kooks. Seeking a bit of refuge, you decided to head towards the shack that stored drinks and equipment for the track, needing a breather from the charged atmosphere. Just as you turned to leave, your eyes locked with Rafe's.

Your heart raced as a heavy silence enveloped you, and for a moment, neither of you could look away. In that instant, you noticed Sofia slip her arm through his and plant a kiss on his cheek. Another dark haired, brown eyes Pogue you knew from the cut and worked with the country club. He clearly had a type. She playfully pulled his attention back to her. Seizing the chance, you quickly resumed your path to the shack, desperate to put distance between yourself and the turmoil of emotions that Rafe always seemed to ignite within you.

You stepped into the shack, the sunlight streaming through the windows casting long shadows across the floor. Your heart raced with nervousness, and you weren't sure if you wanted to stay or leave. With your back to the door, you pressed one hand to your chest and the other to your forehead, trying to steady your breathing, when a low voice broke the silence.

"Hi."

You spun around to find Rafe's imposing silhouette framed in the doorway, his tall figure looming over you. "Rafe, please, just go. I don't need this. I'm here for my brother," you insisted, your voice unsteady. He chuckled, stepping further into the room, the warmth of his presence engulfing you.

"I've missed you, Maybank."

"Don't say that to me," you retorted, backing away as he moved closer. Soon, you found yourself pinned between him and the table, his blue eyes piercing through the dim light, sparkling with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He studied you with an expression that was both longing and mischief, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before gently cupping your face.

It left you bewildered, and you instinctively tried to push him away. "A year and a half ago, you couldn't stand me, and now you're all over me. You can never make up your mind."

A smile crept across Rafe's face. "I could never hate you. I never hated you. I was angry, sure, but I took it out on you-and you never gave me a chance to apologize. You vanished, changed your number, and everyone who knew where you were would never tell me."

"Rafe, please just go," you pleaded, feeling trapped. But before you could protest further, he lifted you effortlessly and set you down on the table.

"I can't stay away from you. Please, let us have this moment," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. He leaned in, inhaling your familiar scent-the coconut and mango shampoo mixed with a hint of jasmine perfume. Then, without warning, he pressed soft kisses against your cheek. You let out a slight moan, unable to suppress the spark of electricity that coursed through you at his touch.

He smiled against your skin, his face inching closer to yours. Then, before you could register the moment, he pulled back slightly to gaze into your eyes once more before crashing his lips against yours. The shock of the kiss momentarily stunned you, but as the reality of what was happening sank in, you found yourself responding, moving your lips against his as if you had been waiting for this moment all along.

His hands began to explore your soft skin, gliding down your arms to intertwine his fingers with yours. You felt the familiar weight of the ring that once adorned your finger. He released your hand, gripping the nape of your neck and pulling you closer as his right hand traced down your torso. You wore a thin, cropped strapless top and a mini skirt. His fingertips teased the upper hem, grazing the tops of your breasts while he moved lower, grasping your waist as if afraid to let you go.

Both of you fought for breath, pulling away to look at each other, laughter escaping your lips. “I’ve been waiting to do this again for so long,” he admitted.

“Do you think your girlfriend would appreciate you saying that to me, Rafe?”

“What?”

“Sofia, the girl outside who kissed you on the cheek?” You sarcastically remind him. “Do you think she’d appreciate this? I may be many things, but I won’t be an accomplice to cheating.”

He sighed, “That means nothing to me. If anything, she’s just a distraction while you were gone. It’s always been you I’m meant to be with. I ruined it and forced myself to move on. And now you’re back.”

You bit your finger, feeling conflicted. “But—” Before you could interrogate him more, he captured your lips in another kiss, drowning out your thoughts. His hands ventured lower, teasing the hem of your skirt. Looking into your eyes for confirmation, you nodded, giving him permission to explore further. He slipped his fingers beneath your clothing, pressing against your core, and groaned as he felt your wetness.

He swirled his fingers before moving to your clit, rubbing in deep, rhythmic motions. You broke the kiss to moan, your head thrown back, exposing your neck and chest. He kissed a trail from behind your ear to the tops of your breasts, and then, with a practiced ease, slid a finger inside you.

You gasped, leaning into the crook of his neck. “That’s a good girl. You can take a little more, right?”

You whimper a soft yes, and he added a second finger, igniting a fevered kiss filled with passion and frustration. Despite your anger, desire overwhelmed you. He pumped in and out quickly, his thumb working your clit, sending you into a frenzy. Your breaths quickened, and you were amazed that no one could hear your moans.

“That’s right, baby. Let me make you feel good. Let me make it up to you. Come for me.”

As waves of pleasure washed over you, your head spun, heart racing. With a gasp, you reached your peak, surrendering completely as he rode out your orgasm, his unoccupied hand brushing your cheek. After a few lingering pumps, he withdrew, licking his fingers clean before adjusting your panties and gazing into your eyes.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said softly. You struggled to find your voice, lost in the moment until the door slammed open, revealing JJ. Rage simmered within you at the thought of a confrontation between him and your brother, but Rafe turned to you. “We’ll talk more another time, baby.”

You smiled and nodded, but as he walked out, JJ turned to you with a look of disgust. “What the hell did he want?”

“Nothing. We were trying to talk before you interrupted,” you replied. “I didn’t know he saw me come in.”

“Are you going to talk to him about her?”

“I don’t know, J.”

---

I hope you like it. My first of many stories. I decided to break it into parts. Stretch it out over the month before part 2 of the season drops.

#drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe smut #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x pogue #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe x maybank

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squoxle · 1 month ago

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hi can i request angry sex with jake

[6] F*#@ ME LIKE U MAD AT ME, BABY ~ S.JY

angry!boyfriend!dom!jake x sub!girlfriend!reader

plot: after coming home from work early, your angry boyfriend Jake, takes his frustration out on you... | wc: 1.6k | cw: minor angst, rough sex, angry sex

Almost 99 percent of the time, your boyfriend was an absolute sweetheart. Caring, affectionate, and full of joy…like a ball of sunshine.

But on days when the spark in him was dampened, you saw a side of him that was completely different. It was like night and day with him. He was aggressive and animalistic.

His eyes cut through you with rage and overwhelming lust. You were his outlet, his drug, his addiction. During that 1 percent of the time he wasn’t bright and bubbly he came to you to release that built up tension…

*CRACK* You unscrewed the plastic cap on the water bottle you had just pulled from the fridge.

*GULP* You sipped the cool liquid, feeling it drip down your throat and cool your insides.

*TWIST* You closed the bottle as the coolness from the refrigerator left your feet.

You leaned against the countertop, taking in a deep breath as you stood barefoot in the kitchen, braless, wearing nothing but panties and one of Jake’s plain white t-shirts that fell down just enough to the point that your ass was barely covered.

He had left earlier than usual this morning for work and he didn’t seem too happy about that…especially since he’s already been working overtime the past couple weeks.

You didn’t expect to see him back home until later tonight, and you knew he’d most likely end up crashing the minute he stepped through the door. So you were shocked to see him walk in the door as you took another sip from your water bottle.

“Jake?” You asked as he slammed the door behind him. “Baby, are you okay?” He took in a deep breath as he gripped a handful of his dark hair, combing it back with his fingers.

You placed your topless bottle on the counter before walking over to Jake. You could tell he was upset and you knew a hug would help him calm down some. “Talk to me, baby,” you hummed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

He placed his hands on your waist before pulling you closer. You feel the fiery rage exuding from his body and the sound of his heart pounding like a demon at the gates of hell. You pulled back just enough to look your boyfriend in the eye.

A mix of emotions washed over his face as he looked at you, a warm and gentle expression that contrasted with his. He leaned in to kiss you, supporting your lower back with one hand and his other hand traced your figure.

You felt his mouth open as he slipped his tongue between your lips, eager to taste you. The kiss was sloppy and sensual and that’s just when you saw him click. The rage, anger, and frustration fueled his lustful crave as his lips fell to your neck—sucking, biting, and kissing you was only the beginning and you knew it.

You stepped backward as he led you into the kitchen catching the sight of your opened water bottle on the counter top. He snatched the thin plastic bottle and crushed it in his hand as he soaked your top.

You gasped at the sudden coolness, Jake took this as a moment to shove his tongue back down your throat as the impression of your tits bled through the white tee. He grabbed your tit in his hand, squeezing it as the water puddled on the floor.

He switched back and forth between sucking your tits and kissing your lips. You groaned as he bit down your nipple sending a stinging sensation up your spine.

Desperately wanting your body more and more by the second, Jake started to tear the fabric apart, watching as your tits fell through the torn shirt. He kissed your collarbone as he slid the remains down your arms. You were cold, wet, and completely naked—aside from your panties that cling to your ass even more now after being soaked with water.

Getting a tasteful glance at your pussy peeking through your panties, Jake aggressively pressed at your beady, sensitive, clit as your jaw fell open. You moaned in his mouth as he kissed you again, breathlessly taking you in.

Your thighs squeezed together, wrapping around his fingers before he ripped them from between your legs. “I wanna fuck you right here so bad,” he hummed, pressing his throbbing hard on against your core.

“Then do it,” you panted as he sucked the flesh of your exposed tits. “Fuck me right here,” you looked him in the eye as he bit his lower lip.

He used his teeth to slide your panties down, leaving kisses up your thigh before lifting you on the counter, spreading your legs apart as he stood between them. You felt his fingers glide back and forth between your folds, your body twitching slightly at every sensation.

He traced your insides, searching for your entrance before jamming straight into your hole which grew wetter and wetter with every stroke of his fingers. You raised your legs, pointing your toes as your head sunk into your shoulders. A shaky moan escaped your lips as he ferociously fingered you.

You struggled to maintain a steady breathing pattern as pleasure consumed you. "I love hearing you moan while I play with you," he hummed as shook from his touch. You inhaled sharply as pressed his thumb against your clit while he stimulated your g-spot.

You bit down on your lip as he pulled your face to his, kissing your lips before reaching down to pull out his dick. You looked down to see his bright red, throbbing tip for a slight second before his heat met your tight entrance.

You threw your head back, wincing slightly from the sudden pain of him pushing into you. His strokes started off slow as your pussy adjusted to his length, but quickly sped up as he groaned from the feeling of your walls contracting around him.

The pressure of your cunt squeezing around him mixed with the intoxicating sound of your moans only drove him harder as he grunted while he stroked his cock in and out of you.

You squirted slightly as the friction stimulated you. You hummed as you felt your mouth watering. Your body was shaking so much at this point that your jaw chittered as weak moans escaped your lips. "Jake! Baby...I c-can't--"

"Just hold on for a little longer, baby. I know you can take it," he panted as he pumped into your throbbing cunt.

"Ngh!" you yelped as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You tightened your grip on him, slightly squeezing his shoulders as you pulled back to look at him.

A dazed and lustful gaze covered his face as he met your lips. "Mmm, that's it, baby," he cooed as he pushed his tongue through your lips again. "Fucking you always makes me feel so much better," he hummed. "I get to look at my slutty little angel moan and cum for me," he kissed you again before pulling his dick out with a pop.

"Mmm," you moaned. "Spit on it," he spat, looking you dead in the eyes. "I wanna fuck you a little more before I cum," he continued before you obediently spit on his twitching cock. "Ugh, fuck yeah," he hummed as he pushed it back inside.

"Ngh!" you gasped as he started fucking you again, this time faster than before. He lifted your legs, gripping your thighs before pulling your lower half off the counter. You were suspended in air, bracing the upper half of your body on your elbows as your head fell back.

"Uh uh, I want you to look at me when I cum inside of you," he groaned. "Look at me, baby," he spat as you lowered your gaze. "Mmm, you look so fucking sexy when I fuck you senseless," the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room as he moaned deeply.

"Ahn!" you clenched your teeth together as you felt his hot load shoot up inside of you. He pushed you back onto the counter as his breathing slowed down. "Next time I'm gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours," he smiled as he kissed your neck again.

He reached his fingers down between your legs, gliding against your sensitive, sloppy, cream-filled cunt. "This'll have to do for now," he smirked as he dug his fingers into your pussy, picking up some of his cum before bringing his cum-coated fingers to your lips.

"Suck it off," he smiled as you opened your mouth. You maneuvered your tongue around his digits, cleaning off every bit as he watched you intently.

"Wah!" you gagged as he shoved his fingers deep into your mouth.

"Sorry, baby. I really wanted to see your eyes rolled to the back of your head," he smiled before kissing your cheek.

"Thanks, baby," he caressed your face before stepping back to take off his shirt.

"For what?" you asked as he pulled the shirt over your head.

"For being the best girlfriend a guy could ever ask for," you smiled as he kissed your forehead. "I'll order us some take-out...I don't think you're in shape to cook anything right now," he chuckled, lifting you off the counter.

Your body was still shaking a bit from earlier, but you managed to walk over to the couch where the two of you laid down together. You still felt the slight soreness from your pussy as you snuggled up between his legs.

𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

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marcsburnerphone · 10 months ago

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And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6

—————-

You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.

You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note.

Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John

(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick

You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.

Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.

————-

1 month in

You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you.

You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.

————-

2 months in

No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend.

However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.

Also you bought a new rug.

————-

3 months in

You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways.

You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it.

Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again.

————

4 months in

The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do.

You should've stayed up the night John left.

————

5 months in

Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut? Fuck it, yes.

So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No.

———

6 months in

John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick.

You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that.

———-

7 months in

At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin.

You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter.

You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness.

“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.

You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do.

“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing.

“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.

You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer.

“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.

“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh.

“Better?” You ask softly.

“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch.

“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.

“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.

“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.

“Who?”

“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”

“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.

“He’s perfectly fine.”

“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.”

“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.”

“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.”

“I know.”

You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.

————-

When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room.

“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.

“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.

“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.

“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.

“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..

“If you’d like.”

“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.

You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.

“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight.

“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk.

“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.

“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.

“Yeah so?” You smile.

“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.

“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner.

“Can I do your beard and mustache?”

“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says.

So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.

“All done.” You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.

“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away.

“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.

It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated.

The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.

—————

The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.

“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots.

“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.

“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.

“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.

How had he missed this all along?

“Would you like to go out for drinks?”

“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.

“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.

“Yeah.”

You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.

“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you.

You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.

“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs.

“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push.

“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it.

“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door.

“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.

“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.

“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain.

He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.

“Never been better.”

He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car.

“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one.

“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”

“I’ll fall regardless.”

“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.

“What?” You laugh.

“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”

“What if we both fall?”

“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.

“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.

“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in.

“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true.

You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.

“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.

“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.

“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor.

He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.

“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.

“When I’m out, martinis.”

“Espresso?”

“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.

“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.

You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again.

“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.

“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.

“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.

“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.”

“Your fears are true.”

“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?

“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.

“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.

“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.

You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.

“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?”

“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.

“That’s just not right.”

“No?”

“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.

“What about you, why no boyfriends?”

“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.

“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.

“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.

Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.

“John?”

“Yeah doll.”

“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced.

“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.

“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?”

“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.

He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side.

The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park.

“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.

“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.

“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm

“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air.

“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath.

“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.

—————

I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.

comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)

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#angst #captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley

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wildestdreamsblog · 4 months ago

Text

Might as well be drunk in love: 2 of 3

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Let the darkness begin.

GIF by sugajimin

Part 1

Tuesday Night, Day 1

Kim Namjoon opened the door, his dimples on display as he welcomed you in the mansion for the second time that night as though he was already expecting you. He looked warm and comfortable, donning out simple white shirt and grey sweatpants instead of his usual formal clothes. A damp towel hanged on his broad shoulders; his hair still wet from the shower he obviously took.

“Welcome home, little one,” he greeted lowly, pulling your reluctant form in. If he felt the way you dug your heels on the ground, he didn’t mention. He was just elated that you were here now. He couldn’t explain the excruciating pain that went through his body almost more than an hour after he dropped you off. He was only able to manage it when Hoseok messaged him, letting him know that you would be coming home with him, and only then did he feel the pain subsided.

For the second time, you stepped foot in the grandiose place of theirs. It was a strange juxtaposition, your cautious movements against Namjoon's determined pull. Funnily, you thought it was similar to the depiction of Lucifer dragging Persephone down to hell. Walking behind you was the intimidating man, Jung Hoseok. He was carrying your bags in his hand in a relaxed manner, opposite to how he was before. The amount of clothes he personally packed were staggeringly ridiculous. It was like he packed your whole belongings with the intention for you to never set foot in your own apartment again. In his other hand was your traitor of a cat that was purring as the man carried him in his arms. It was like your cat left you for a better life.

"You must have been exhausted," Namjoon's voice broke through the quiet, drawing your attention to his warm smile. His concern softened the edges of your weariness. “The day is too long for any of us. You should get your rest.”

You eyed Hoseok, unsure of how to act when he offered you a reassuring smile. “We readied your room, little one," Hoseok's voice was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his prior demeanor. Namjoon bade you good night, his large hand cupping your cheek tenderly before letting you go. With a beckoning gesture, Hoseok motioned for you to follow him, and you fell into step beside him, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders.

He opened the room to the far end of the right wing. Similar to the aesthetic of the house, the room was equally grandiose. The bed, positioned prominently in the center of the room, commanded attention with its regal presence. It was fit for a princess, you thought, with its lavish canopy and layers of plush bedding inviting you to sink into its embrace. Every detail spoke of luxury and refinement, from the gilded accents to the soft, muted colors that suffused the room with an air of tranquility.

Any other time you would have gushed over the beauty of this room, but not this time. And not with the stress that that love potion brought you! On top of that, you were in a strange place with your CEOs who were practically strangers up at this moment! It was more than understandable that you were acting wary of these two men. They were only two of the seven, and you were already displaced by them! What more if the remaining five were to face you now?

You looked over your lashes at the man who was putting your bags down in front of what looked like a huge walk-in closet, his face void of any negative emotions but the people pleaser and the anxious child in you made you voiced out what you were thinking.

“Are you mad at me?”

Your cat, on the other hand, was now roaming freely and inspecting his new home with a purr, uncaring of the stress that you were feeling. You knew that traitor had such an expensive taste that your cat would literally sell you for a piece of chicken. You couldn’t help but notice the amount of cat toys that were kept in the corner of the room, prompting you to think that this wasn’t a spur of the moment kind of thing.

Hoseok blinked owlishly as though you asked an utterly absurd question, one that would never happen. His brows furrowed before he offered you a reassuring smile. “What brought this on?”

You sighed dramatically before plopping down on a surprisingly soft and comfortable mattress. You were even unknowingly pouting, making him want to squish your adorable cheeks in between his hands and cooed down at you. “Well, because I may or may not have ruined your lives because of that drink. But in my defense, which I think is a very good and plausible one and it may actually stand in court, it was never my intention to make you ‘fall in love’ with me and that drink was only gifted to me! Don’t you think I should be given a less harsh punishment?”

“Punishment?” Hoseok repeated to himself, his head tilted to the side as he pondered the notion. Was living with them meant to be some sort of a punishment when this was a big house and you had seven men to cater to your every whim? They would literally give you the world should you asked. “No, honey. Listen, I’m not mad at you. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“I’m mad at you?” you asked with a hint of humor in your voice before flashing him a grin of your own. You were too adorable and funny, he gushed as he kneeled in front of you. Slowly as though gauging your reaction, he held your hands in between his, running his thumb in a soothing manner when you didn’t pull away. Hoseok couldn’t help but smile widely when he held you. It was such an exhilarating rush, he observed, one that he had never felt before.

In fact, it was an addicting feeling…one that he could not bear to lose.

“We’re not mad,” he began, his voice earnest as he looked up at you from his kneeled form on the carpeted floor. He never knelt for anyone, but for you, he would without any questions asked. “None of us are mad. This is merely a…unique conundrum. But we’ll figure it out. We always do. So don’t worry, okay?

We will take care of it.”

It was well after midnight when the five equally annoyed men strutted inside the mansion. Their faces were painted with discontent, their eyes carrying a certain weight of physical exhaustion and their movements that of strain from being physically away from you.

They were, in fact, practically gritting their teeth from the discomfort and pain.

Kim Seokjin was the first to stride into the room, the heavy oak double-doors slamming against their hinges so forcefully that even Namjoon grew concerned. He meant, for heaven’s sake, he had it custom-ordered from his favorite artist that specialized in wood carving! Anyway, it was a rare sight to see him display any negative emotion as he was always the brother that brought lightness to whatever tense situation he found them in. He was known for his penchant to be kidding around, cracking dad jokes left and right and his laughter was contagious. But those traits were nowhere to be found.

His voice was surprisingly deep as he directed his equally captivating eyes to their lead CEO with darkness even Jimin who was walking behind him found startling. “Don't forget, I'm the one who prepares your food, Kim Namjoon."

Namjoon blinked at that, his hold on his laptop loosening at his hyung’s words. “All is fair in love and war?” he supplemented sheepishly, his fingers lifting to flash him a peace sign to which his hyung merely rolled his eyes to before plopping down the huge sofa and closing his eyes, his long leg stretched out in front of him.

Next to display his displeasure was Park Jimin, the one that was the scariest when mad. “You should have just shipped us to Japan then I’d be able to at least buy my skincare products,” Jimin sassed as he rolled his eyes at the lead CEO. His nose was turned up high as he strutted in the room. Despite the long hours spent travelling, Namjoon could not see any evidence that any single blonde hair was out of place on Jimin’s. “I think I finally know what hatred feels like.”

Last to enter was Taehyung and Jungkook. In his own peculiar way, Taehyung was fake sobbing in Jungkook’s arms while the latter was pouting at Namjoon as he patted the back of the former. “I never thought I’d be betrayed by the person I look up the most!”

“Yah!” Seokjin suddenly opened his eyes in disbelief “You trust him the most when I spend all my money on your food from when you were 13 to now?!”

Jungkook merely nodded, his doe eyes seeing nothing wrong with what he said. Taehyung, on the other hand, suddenly stopped acting and stood up straight to face the occupants of the room. “How are we reduced to this: betraying each other?” his deep voice resounded over the room, holding a tone of certain seriousness. His dark eyes met theirs. “Aren’t we better than this? We are brothers. We are better than animals that kill each other in the wild to survive. We are civilized men who are in the top performers of the society, who are featured in every reputable magazine. We are men that are leaders of-”

“Weren’t you the first to betray us, hyung?” Jungkook suddenly asked, effectively cutting off his speech. His head was tilted to the side as he sat beside Seokjin who was actively pushing him away to no avail, grumbling about how he should sit beside the brother he trusted the most.

“That’s neither here nor there!” Taehyung’s volume increased from guilt, his eyes comically widening.

“How?! It’s literally here! And it’s still here!” Jimin shouted, further antagonizing his agemate to which Taehyung gladly took on. The screaming match went on, with Jin joining, whereas Jungkook chimed in every once in a while, clearly enjoying the ensuing chaos. Every now and then, though, he voiced out how much he missed you. Namjoon was massaging his forehead and quietly telling them to stop and to keep quiet because someone was sleeping. It was only Hoseok who was silently watching his brothers and doing a quiet headcount only to come up short.

“Guys? Aren’t we seven?” He broke his silence for the first time, effectively stopping the loud bickering of the brothers. “Where’s Yoongi?”

The loud bickering of his brothers faded as he slipped inside the mansion without them noticing. To be honest, he did not have the required energy to deal with them, much so when he could barely keep himself upright. He didn’t want to see that traitorous bastard, Kim Namjoon, for more than a second. They all had a piece to say but they were all morons, Yoongi thought. As he trudged up the last step of the stairs, he looked up and there was you.

Min Yoongi couldn’t believe his own eyes. He thought that it was his sanity breaking down from the physical pain he had been feeling since he parted from you, and decided to play cruel games with him in the form of you. But there was no way that you were actually here, right? There was no way you were standing in the hallway in your sleepwear��right?

On the other hand, you blinked and looked at Yoongi’s pale face. He looked like he was straining to hold himself upright, evidenced by his grip on the stair’s handrail. His hands were shaking and you were worried that any moment now, he would fall.

You were proven correct not even a second later.

You watched as his body swayed, his eyes closed and you were moving before you could even think of the repercussion. Without heeding to any of your friend’s warning about touching them, you stepped in just in time to steady his body. The momentum from his combined weight and the gravity made you stepped back as his head found its place on your shoulder. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad back to anchor him to you.

“Daepyonim Min,” you called for his attention, gauging his alertness while tapping your hand on his back with a sense of urgency. “Daepyonim Min, you need help. Let me call-”

“Little one,” you heard him breathed you in before speaking so slowly, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “You’re real, aren’t you?” His hand slowly cupped your cheek, needing to feel you, needing to know if the object of his love was truly here. “How?”

“I’m here…but it’s a long story. First, we need help. You’re not okay!”

“You’re here,” he repeated to himself, his voice that of wonder. “I-I’m okay now,” he replied with so much warmth as he struggled to lift himself up to look at you. “I just need to sleep. It’s been a long ass day,” he groaned, the ache from his head was slowly dissipating from the proximity to you, yet its intensity since they landed was at its highest. He knew it would take him the whole night to recuperate. But somehow, he knew he could do it easily with you by his side. He didn’t even care why you were here, or even how you got here. What was important was you were now here where you belong- with them.

Against your better judgement and completely unaware of the thoughts running in his head, you nodded as you followed his directions to his room. Just like his personality that you knew him of, his room was no non-sense in a way that all things were functional. It was apparent that the man favored minimalism and comfort over luxury. It was clean and uncluttered, with just the essentials neatly arranged. The bed, large and inviting, dominated the room, adorned with crisp white sheets and a fluffy comforter. A single nightstand stood beside it, holding a small lamp and a few books.

You helped him settle onto the bed, arranging the pillows behind him to support his weary body. He let out a contented sigh as he sank into the softness, his eyes closing momentarily in relief as the weariness slightly subdued.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with gratitude. His eyes held sincerity and warmth. The way he was looking at you, the way he was holding on to your wrist because he didn’t want to let you go only served as reminders of your guilt. He wouldn’t be acting this way if this was normal circumstances.

Your negligence that day brought you here. And those emotions he was showing you were not real, you reminded yourself.

"You're welcome," you replied softly with utmost sincerity, a gentle yet sad smile playing on your lips. "Do you need anything else before I go?"

He had you now, why would he let you go?

It was his rationale as he pulled you to lie beside him, the surprisingly comfortable bed and his enescapable hold were enough to tire you out, you pushing him away did nothing. Despite your inner turmoil, you found yourself yielding to his pull, sinking onto the bed beside him. The warmth of his body radiated against yours, a stark contrast to the chill of your guilt-ridden thoughts.

And when he whispered for you to stay, you did.

It was barely an hour later when Yoongi was awakened by the annoying buzzing of his phone. He looked at you, a smile tugging on his lips at how your mouth was agape as you slumbered off in his arms. You were just so adorable that he wanted to put you in his pocket. He grinned at that thought. He already felt better.

You were the cure, he was sure.

However, the headache seemed to be returning from the persistent phone calls he was getting. He sighed, picking up his phone carefully to not wake you up only to find out it was a videocall from Taehyung.

“Hyung! Where are you?” his deep voice resounded over the quietness of the room. Yoongi, on the other hand, had to lower the volume immediately.

“Shut up,” he admonished him quietly, careful to not arose you from your sleep.

“Are you…sleeping?! When we’re all worried about you?!” the camera spanned out to Seokjin who was eating calmly, lacking any evidence of worry that Taehyung was claiming while Jungkook was running in the background, looking for Yoongi in every corner and even under the furniture. Meanwhile, Jimin was on his phone trying to rank up on his games.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s clear that you’re all worried about me,” he noted in a deadpanned voice, not believing any bullshit coming from Taehyung’s mouth.

Namjoon entered the frame casually, his eyes taking in his hyung’s rested form. He had an inkling of suspicion as to why. “You look well-rested, hyung,” he stated his observation, his complexion looked healthy in comparison to Taehyung’s. Yoongi raised his brow at that. His initial theory that the span of time spent without you was making them sick only got stronger because of Namjoon’s healthier look.

“Did you find our gift?” Hoseok asked from behind the two men, casually hanging his arms on their shoulders. He was smiling. But his eyes held a certain darkness they usually didn’t have.

“I did. We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

Wednesday, Day 2

“No one told me that we have an adorable new housemate.”

The six sleepy men sitting around the dining table looked up as soon as Park Jimin entered the room, in his arms was a fluffy cat that was actively hissing at him. He cooed down at it, softly stroking the thick fur with his hand that was now sporting claw marks.

“We’re already so close!” he announced with softness in his voice despite the repetitive kicks brought by the furry creature in his arm.

“I don’t think you are liked very much…” Jungkook quietly commented, his doe eyes went even larger at the bleeding scratches on his skin. As if sensing an opportunity to escape, the cat suddenly wriggled free from Jimin's arms and darted across the room, landing squarely in Hoseok's lap.

“Hi, my son! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked affectionately, reaching down to stroke the cat's fur.

“Hyung has a secret son!” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung in a scandalous manner, clutching his nonexistent pearls. Taehyung, who looked like he lived and fought through three wars from his exhausted form and his sluggish movement only nodded at Jungkook.

“Whose cat is that? Is that yours, J-hope?” Jin asked, pointing at the cat with his mug. He didn’t know that they now had a furry housemate. Additionally, he didn’t know that he was a cat person.

Namjoon just smirked at his brothers, “That’s not his.”

“My God, I am so tired,” Jimin sat next to Taehyung, his muscles aching with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his whole weight on his friend, seeking some semblance of comfort in their shared weariness.

"Everything hurts," Taehyung moaned, mirroring Jimin's sentiment. He glanced over at Namjoon, pleading silently for a solution. "We need her. Hyung, please. Do something," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Jungkook finally put down his spoon with a loud thud, standing up to look at them one by one. “Okay, I cannot be the only one curious about whose cat that is!” he pointed at the cat who only meowed back at him before shifting his finger to his hyung who was silently eating with a smile on his face. “And you, why do you look so good this morning, hyung, while the four of us look like we are 3 hours away from passing away?” he asked Yoongi, his doe eyes demanding answers from the chaotic bunch that only turned more chaotic as the morning wore on.

Yoongi, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee, raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's question. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement. "Well, Kookie, some of us are just naturally blessed with good genes," he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Excuse me?! Are you saying that I am not blessed with good genes?! Me?! The world wide handsome?! Now, you’re just outright lying!”

“Hyuuuuung, do something! I think I’m dying!” Taehyung shouted amidst the noise.

“Stop screaming you’re scaring my son!” Hoseok shot back all while covering the cat’s little ears.

“Whose cat is that even?!” Jungkook asked again in disbelief, the vein in his throat protruding from annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh my God, Taehyung! I already did something, okay?!” Namjoon finally raised his voice for him to hear.

“Ahhhhhhh, my head hurts and she’s the only cure! I have to go to her!” Jimin whined sadly, attempting to leave his chair slowly.

“In that state?!” Jin shouted at Jimin and Taehyung, already feeling the stress causing havoc on his otherwise beautiful face.

But Taehyung and Jimin were already halfway out of their chair, clutching their heads dramatically. "I can't take this anymore! I need her!" he wailed, his eyes darting around the room with desperation only to find you by some miracle.

“Little one…” he called, his voice small as though he couldn’t believe that you were truly there. It was like their pain manifested you, and heavens, it was worth it. He’d willingly go through this pain if it meant seeing you and having you here where you belonged.

With them.

“Good morning, has anyone seen my cat?”

Your voice, despite it being low, was sufficient to effectively stop the bickering among the CEOs. How they heard you amidst their own noise, you didn’t know. One thing was for certain, though. They were attuned to you like lovesick men did. Their eyes were on you with varying emotions. Jungkook was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung and Jimin, on the other hand, were relieved. Yoongi's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delight at the sight of you. Seokjin stared at you in disbelief, as if trying to comprehend how you managed to appear amidst the chaos. Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a sense of contentment and joy. The pair looked like they secured an extremely important deal and even won the lottery at the same day.

You didn’t see Taehyung moved but you certainly felt how his heavy body fell against yours. You certainly heard his sigh of relief even as he swayed on his feet.

And when you touched his hand to support him, that was when he fell.

Suffice to say, no one made it to the office today.

You were seated beside Taehyung on the sofa, his thighs plastered to yours as though any space was considered a sin. He had your hand tenderly imprisoned in his. On your other side was Jimin who had his head in the vee of your shoulders. You were their medicine, they were sure.

Meanwhile, you were anything but comfortable. You were never really a fan of skinship, always the one who was reserved and preferred physical distance when surrounded by people. And yes, you were aware that thousands, if not millions, would kill to be in your spot right now but that didn’t make you any more receptive to their proximity. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, not with the way they were watching you.

Especially not with the way Hoseok’s eyebrow raised whenever you even so much as attempted to move. His pointed gaze held you in place, a silent warning against any attempt to flee.

You were stiff. But you knew, and quite frankly you were starting to believe the effectivity and potency of that wretched potion. You already witnessed five of the seven men almost crumbled to the ground from the unbearable pain. There was no way that that was not connected to that potion.

“When did the pain start, Taehyung-ah?” Seokjin asked as he flustered over the younger CEO. He was pouring hot tea for the two agemate, his innate mother instinct surfacing. Despite that, he couldn’t help but look at you with small smile on his lips. He was happy that you were here, truly happy for the first time in ages. It was like his heart calmed down, the darkness slowly vanishing from his mind now that you were in their vicinity. Now, he could just focus on taking care of you

“At around 6 pm…less than 12 hours after little one ran from me,” he finished with his signature pout, turning to you as though he was a puppy you kicked aside and was begging you to take it back. “I was so sad when you ran from me, little one.”

“You also ran from me,” Jimin added, his pouty lips protruding even more as he glared at you. “It deeply wounded me. I am still hurt over that, you know? I woke up so early just to see you.”

“She also ran from me…” Jungkook's voice joined the chorus from his place on the floor with his back leaning on your knees, adding his own layer of disappointment.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Namjoon asked the peculiar man in concern, his worry lessening as Taehyung started to gain back his colors.

“Because! Hyung looked sicker than me!” Taehyung response was quick while pointing at Yoongi who was looking at them stoically. He looked bored, except when he turned to look at you and then all of a sudden, he was shooting sweet smile at your direction, his fingers forming heart sign. You blinked owlishly at his sudden display of affection.

“You idiot, he’s just naturally pale!” Seokjin admonished him even as he continued to feed him light snacks.

“Next time, say something when you’re not feeling well,” Hoseok broke his silence, a smile forming on his lips and you just knew it was fake. “Our little one is with us now. We no longer have to suffer, right, sunshine?”

The weight of Hoseok's words hung in the air, wrapped in the softness and faux innocence of his tone. It almost seemed like an innocent question, but you couldn't shake the feeling of caution that settled in the pit of your stomach. After all, it was Hoseok who ensnared you in his web and brought you into this situation.

Seokjin, sensing the tension between the two of you, directed your focus on him. His body was now turned to you, his form relaxed as he offered you a gentle and encouraging smile. “How did you get here, little one?”

“Daepyeonims Kim and Jung-“

“I take back what I said last night. I love you and you’re the best leader anyone could ever have!” Jimin suddenly said, jumping from his seat to cling to the aforementioned CEO. After which, the five of them listened to your retelling of how you got here.

“It’s true that we had an inkling of why we are acting…well, the way we are,” Seokjin noted after a lapse of silence, looking down at his hands as he did so. “It was the only plausible explanation, regardless of how illogical it was.”

“We weren’t- aren’t behaving normally. We thought back to everything that transpired during that day and the only deviation was our interaction with you.,” Namjoon took charge of the explanation, his voice steady and authoritative, as befitting a leader. “At first, the symptoms were bearable to say the least. I even managed to hold off for the whole day until I saw you in the elevator. And even then, I was already suffering. The pain was nothing I ever experienced before. All I could think about was you. All I craved was your presence. All I wanted that whole day was to go to you.”

Yoongi nodded, experiencing firsthand the excoriating pain last night. “Everything was a struggle. It’s like our organs were not functioning properly, like oxygen struggled to enter our lungs no matter how hard we breathed.”

“And you are the cure.”

You lifted your eyes to Park Jimin who sounded serious for the first time this morning. His smile was even missing from his face, but his eyes held genuineness. “You’re the only one we need, little one.”

But instead of feeling relieved, you felt suffocated, overwhelmed by the weight of their dependence on you. The realization that you held the key to their well-being filled you with a sense of panic, the walls closing in around you. You wanted to help them, to ease their suffering, but the burden felt too heavy to bear. With all seven of them relying on you, the pressure threatened to crush you under its weight.

As you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The repercussions of that potion were far greater than you could have ever imagined, and now, you were left to grapple with the consequences. “Until when?”

You untangled Taehyung’s arms from you and moved away despite the whine that left Jimin. You stood up, your back almost to the wall as you regarded them with your eyes. “Until when will you need me?”

“We don’t know, yet, my love,” Namjoon answered truthfully at the same time Taehyung.

“Forever,” his deep voice resounded over the room, the weight of his words heavy in the air.

Silence descended, thick and palpable, as the gravity of the situation settled upon each of you like a suffocating blanket. The only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within your mind.

Forever. The word echoed in your ears, reverberating with both promise and dread. The thought of being tethered to them indefinitely sent shivers down your spine, a chilling reminder of the magnitude of their reliance on you.

Jimin shifted uncomfortably, his eyes pleading as he reached out a hand towards you. "Please, don't leave us," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Your shoulders dropped down at his plea. You knew yourself all too well. You had to help them. You had to go at the bottom of this. You were going to be patient.

But patience was never your best suit.

You finally had it at exactly five in the afternoon. See you didn’t even last for 10 hours and you already felt suffocated. Anywhere you went, there would be at least two of them tailing you. Every time you turned to ask for space, they would be flashing you the sweetest smiles you were ever given. Every time you ran into Yoongi, he would blatantly offer you all his stocks; Jin was always seen to be carrying snacks around for you and trying to feed you; Namjoon would always try to herd you in his display room of paintings and sculptures; while Hoseok would always look at you then his phone and order you clothes that you wouldn’t even dream of buying from the price alone.

Meanwhile, the maknae line was always around you, beaming with energy and trying their very best to rizz you up. It was safe to say that they were doing their absolute best to make you lose your composure.

Which is why you abruptly stopped walking, turned around, and glared at the men behind you that almost crashed into each other, including your cat that was following you around the house.

“May I help you?” you asked, your brow raised as you waited for their answer as they looked at each other.

“Yes, little one. You definitely can help us. Let’s go over there and cuddle!” Jimin smiled angelically at you as he pointed upstairs to what you assumed was his room. See, this man looked so harmless. In fact, you thought he looked the sweetest among the seven, but his eyes could never fool you. You physically saw someone blushed so hard when he smiled at them, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he brushed his hair up like he was fond of doing.

On the other hand, Taehyung, ever the agreeable companion to Jimin, nodded vigorously, his boxy smile widening as he looked at you expectantly. Jungkook was bouncing on his feet, excited with the prospect that he got to have you in his arms despite his inability to meet your eyes at the moment.

Wednesday Evening, Day 2

“We need to talk,” you huffed as you pushed the three men inside what you assumed was the common room of this huge mansion.

Seokjin, who was already inside the room and enthusiastically playing his game, rapidly turned it off despite obviously winning to give you all his attention. His back was straightened after kicking his gaming console away. The way he was looking at you made you blushed, but you were deathly determined to not show it. You were terrified that if you gave in even an inch, then these men would gladly take a mile. You couldn’t let yourself drown in this scenario, and most of all, you shouldn’t let yourself fall for them.

These were just effects of that wretched potion. None of these were real.

“Yes, little one? What’s on your mind?” Namjoon’s voice suddenly disrupted your thoughts as he walked in the room, his posture relaxed. He intentionally brushed against your side, his hard muscles softly swaying your soft one, satisfying the call inside him to have you near him. He leaned against the table where Hoseok and Yoongi were working. They both gave you their attention as soon as you declared that conversation needed to be had.

“Speak your mind, sunshine,” Hoseok urged you gently with a smile on his face as though he didn’t terrify you the night before. Your eyes lingered on him, still unable to read his true personality. Or which among the versions he showed you were his realest?

Yoongi nodded when he saw you hesitated, giving you assurance you obviously needed to continue.

“I need space.”

Cue the tears from Jungkook, chaos from Taehyung and Jimin, rapid reasoning from Seokjin, dramatic clutching of heart from Yoongi partnered with a deathly glare to the who he assumed made you say those wretched word; maknae line, clenched of jaw from Namjoon and deafening silence from Hoseok. Despite the expected mixed reaction, one emotion rose above them all.

Panic.

As though they had one mind, the six CEOs turned to look at Namjoon, a plead for him to make sense of what was happening and to fix this for them. It was obvious that they needed you like air, if not more. Their survival hinged on you, and that was not even an overstatement.

Seokjin, ever perceptive, sensed the uncharacteristic struggle within the lead CEO. Namjoon’s jaw was clenched, a sure sign of his struggle to maintain composure in the face of the unexpected. In a move only Seokjin could execute with dramatic flair, he jumped away from you, creating a symbolic distance that echoed your plea. He was pointedly looking at the expanse of space between of the two of you as though this was what you meant when you knew he understood what you truly meant by space.

“There, little one,” Seokjin spoke softly, his voice carrying a weight that resonated through the room. His eyes were dark that held a mix of understanding and yet, a stubborn determination. “Space.”

You sighed, looking up at the peculiar-looking chandelier you just knew was Taehyung’s idea. “That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what do you mean?” Taehyung cut you off, his earlier tirade and childlike rebellion with his agemate were nowhere to be found and instead, who stood before you was an entirely different man. Had you looked closer, then perhaps you would have seen the swirling darkness in his eyes.

“You know we’d die without you. Why are you doing this?” Yoongi, who was still clutching his heart, spoke lowly. His eyes that you thought to be always emotionless were brimming with sadness. His words tugged at your heart.

But if they just let you speak, then they’d understood-

“Is that what you want?” Hoseok asked monotonously, and this time he didn’t look like the lively and full of sunshine CEO. This time, he looked like a dangerous man who was about to go off. He lifted his dark brow before standing up and circling to where you were. He was close, too close and yet, none of him was touching you. The height difference between the two of you made him seemed more intimidating as he leaned down to meet your eyes. “You want us to die, is that it? Hmm?”

“No-“

“Then what?”

“I just need space for myself-“

“But noona! I need you. We need yo-“

You turned to glare at Jungkook who actively gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. “Can you let me speak? Can you all let me finish?”

“Yes, noona. Sorry, noona. You’re so beautiful, noona,” he rapidly said as he formed hearts with his fingers, his smile was lovely as though he didn’t just annoy you.

“All of you,” Namjoon’s commanding voice echoed in the room, his draconic eyes set on you even as he addressed his brothers. “Sit down and let little one talk.”

Once they were all settled in with the five men sitting on the sofa, Yoongi not moving from his seat, and Namjoon standing tall- a deliberate choice, you thought, to let you know that you might have the floor but he still held the reins, you started explaining to them how you could not do this if it meant that you wouldn’t have any time for yourself. In order to leave this house once this was all over with your sanity intact, then you had to have rules and regulations like civil men did.

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing your resolve. Jin shifted in his seat, his expression unreadable. Hoseok glanced between you and Namjoon, silently absorbing the tension. Taehyung and Jungkook remained quiet, their eyes fixed on you, waiting for your conditions. Jimin scoffed lightly.

“What do you propose?” Jimin asked, his velvet smooth voice seemed to be innocent had you not known that he identified as a Slytherin.

“2 hours each. I think that since there are seven of you, that would be 14 hours of my day-“

“Dibs to the remaining 10 hours!” Yoongi suddenly said, his hand shooting up and his face held determination and a hint of mischief. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Yoongi as he leaned back comfortably in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Jimin raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable for a moment before a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Bold move, Yoongi," he remarked, his tone light but edged with amusement. "I, myself, am also vying for those ten hours, little one."

Yoongi shrugged nonchalantly, uncaring of what Jimin was saying. "I know what I want," he stated simply, crossing his arms as he leaned back further in his seat, looking supremely confident. “And anyway, now that I had her in my arms last night, I really don’t think I can sleep alone, anymore.”

“Excuse me?!” Taehyung stood up, facing Yoongi with disbelief in his face. “How did that happen-”

“Does being the oldest not mean anything anymore?!”

“You might as well step on me, hyung! You might as well kick me where it hurts the most- oh wait! You did!”

You shook your head as maknae line plus Seokjin screamed at each other. Meanwhile, Hoseok was trying to keep the peace. Namjoon was the only one who kept on watching you, his mind going over an overdrive as to how to resolve this all while maintaining their leverage over you and keeping you happy.

“Fine, we accept.”

They all turned to Namjoon, their eyes comically large at how easy their leader agreed. “We do?” Hoseok asked.

“Either that or lose her. Or die. So yes, we agree. In return, within those two hours of your undivided attention, you’ll cater to our every need.”

You blinked owlishly at what he said. And also, did he have to say that like that?!

“F-fine! But those ten hours will truly be mine, okay?”

“What will you even do within those ten hours, noona?” Jungkook asked innocently, his doe eyes brimming with curiosity.

“Shower, sleep, eat, meditate so as to not lose my mind-“

“But why can’t we do all those things together?” Jimin whined, swaying his body in emphasis of his desire to be included.

“Because! That’s private-“

“But we’re close!” Jungkook added, his eyes wide and earnest.

“Oh my God, you idiot,” you heard Seokjin murmured under his breath, disappointed and quite frankly, embarrassed by the youngest’s stubbornness.

“Two hours start when?” Hoseok finally asked something that could be answered logically.

“7 in the morning and ends at 9 in the evening.”

Thursday morning, Day 3

“Rise and shine, my one and only!”

Your room was gently engulfed by light as Kim Seokjin opened the door at exactly 7 in the morning. He was still wearing his blue pajamas and in his hands was a tray with what looked to be a delectable mug of coffee. You blinked your sleepiness away as he stepped in the room. He carefully placed the tray on your bedside table, before cupping your cheeks in between his hands and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Okay.

That woke you up.

His gesture was unexpected, and it most probably showed on your face from the way he chuckled as he booped your nose.

“Ah, you’re so beautiful even in the morning, little one!” He exclaimed before stepping back and flicking the curtains open further, letting even more sunlight stream into the room. How was this fair, you wondered. How could he look so perfect and put-together even when he was still in his sleepwear? You glanced at the mirror on the wall and was horrified to see how opposite you looked to the man who just declared that you were so beautiful in the morning.

If you didn’t believe in the effectivity of the potion before, then you definitely did now. Your hair was all over the place and you had sleep in your eyes.

And oh my God, was that a dried drool on the side of your lips?!

You immediately made yourself presentable the best you could before Seokjin sat on your bed, lifting his own mug to his lips…his very plump lips. He was unfazed by your awkward demeanor.

“I am so glad I have this schedule. Nothing beats spending the morning with you,” he murmured warmly, his eyes shining with sincerity and love(?) “I made breakfast, little one. Get ready and come down, okay?”

It was quarter to eight when you finally joined him in the patio where he set up the breakfast. He was already dressed for work like you, his hair now sleeked up. Also, how could a forehead look that good? Did that even make any sense?!

He turned to you and smiled. His eyes traced your form before standing. He gently tugged you in his arms, completely engulfing you within him. You could hear his heart and hoped that he couldn’t hear yours; it was definitely embarrassing how fast yours was beating in comparison to his. You weren’t really used to being physically close to anyone, let alone your CEOs that you never had personal interactions with before this.

“I didn’t put on at tie yet because I wanted us to match,” he easily shared in your ear before guiding you to your seat as though what he did was not meant to make your heart beat faster.

You looked at all the mouthwatering dishes he prepared and wondered just how long he had been awake for. “Where are the others?” you hadn’t seen nor heard any of them in the house and you wondered if they had already eaten.

Seokjin merely smiled at you before artfully cutting pieces of the croissant he made for you and putting them on your plate. “Little one, it’s my time. You’re mine.”

“For two hours…” you added, suddenly feeling ominous by the way he worded his schedule and his dark eyes despite the sweet and seemingly harmless smile he was sporting.

“Sure.”

After he dropped you off in your office wherein he held your hand all the way from the car until he delivered you to your office chair, he planted a kiss on the back of your hand despite your reluctance. You couldn’t help but noticed the grip he had on you, nor the way he looked around the office and glared at any men glancing your way.

And of course, everyone in the office saw.

At exactly 9:01 am, a bouquet of flower was sent to your office. The sender? None other than Jung Hoseok himself.

He was sure to be punctual, not wasting any second off his scheduled time. He thought that time was gold, and he wanted nothing more since he woke up to be with you.

Sufficed to say, Jung Hoseok craved you so bad.

Your eyes widened from the sunflowers to him as he flashed you his sunny smile as though he didn’t scare you the past days with his warnings. “For the most beautiful part of my day.”

You could hear the murmurs of your officemates, and you were already dreading the gossips that would surely come. You wondered how they would look at you once this was all over. For sure, you’d be the laughing stock of the ton.

You most probably have to resign…

“Darling?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Hoseok tilted his head as he leaned in you, his hand on your armrest. This close and you could smell him. And heavens. He smelled heavenly. He smelled clean and crisp, like the subtle touch of ocean breeze. This close and you could see how perfect his features were, how harmoniously proportionate they were. This close and you could see the darkness he always kept in bay.

“What are you thinking?”

“N-nothing-“

“Tell me,” he demanded gently, his eyes trained on your lips like no one was looking, like you and him were existing in your own world where no one could touch you and take you away from him.

Where no one could take you away from them.

“I-“

“Good morning! I have great, great news!”

Your friend breezed into the office, fashionably late as usual, her face lit up with excitement. The room buzzed with curious glances as she made her way to her desk, her eyes searching until they landed on yours. The grin she was sporting faltered off as the CEO turned to her with an expression she didn’t like before it all went away and Hoseok flashed her a smile.

“G-good morning, Daepyeonim Jung.”

“Good morning,” he answered cheerfully, fully straightening up and granting you the much-needed space to catch your breath. “What’s your good news?”

She looked at you, and only when you nodded did she whisper the news that her grandmother knew someone from the mountains that had the answer and solution. Her voice was hushed enough that your coworkers couldn’t hear her, yet clear enough to give you hope. Your grin was so wide as you stood up and hugged her.

It was only when you turned to Hoseok to share your happiness did you notice something unsettling. His expression had darkened briefly, a shadow passing over his features before he hastily composed himself with a bright smile.

What was that?

Before you could dwell on that, he declared it good news and pulled you out of the office.

You found yourself standing in the middle of his office as he plopped down on his chair, stack of paper on his table that grew in size from missing yesterday’s work. He seemed busy, yet he was looking expectedly at you. His eyes were serious as he gestured for you to come closer.

It was apparent he wasn’t happy with the distance when you decided to stop three feet away from him. His eyes remained impassive as he sighed and without any warning, pulled you to him. You landed on his surprisingly muscular lap, your hands automatically going to his shoulders in an effort to steady you.

Your eyes widened at his actions and any attempt to stand up was squashed by his ironlike grip around you.

“Didn’t you promise you’d cater to our every need when we agreed on that ridiculous two-hour schedule?”

“And having me on your lap is a need?!”

“It is. I want- no. I need you close,” and only when he confessed did you see the miniscule tremors in his hands. He was nuzzling his face on your neck, breathing in the scent he missed so much. Your soft skin against his touch somehow calmed the demons. If he was already like this despite you seeing him last night, then it meant that their symptoms were worsening like what your friend warned you of. The more time you spent with them and the more that your skins touched meant that their lovesickness would only worsen in time.

You were dreading to think what would happen to the remaining CEOs and how they would act, more so when Jimin and Namjoon were in the last two.

Namjoon's schedule sneakpeak Jungkook’s schedule sneakpeak, Part 3 sneakpeak, Part 3

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #ot7 x you #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #min yoongi fic #jung hoseok fic #park jimin fic #kim taehyung fic #jeon jungkook fic #bts smut

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laurellerual · 3 months ago

Text

Day 1: Contrasting Beginnings

At Winterfell they had called her "Arya Horseface" and she'd thought nothing could be worse.

...

"A smart boy, but stubborn. That helm … the others call him bullheaded, so he threw it in their teeth."

#arya stark #gendry #asoiaf #gendrya #bookgendryaweek2024 #Stop bullying my kids!

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months ago

Text

Manhood. (P2)

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

SMUT

Summary: it's the morning after they consummated their marriage.

Part 1

Masterlist

A/n: Dare I say this could even have a part 3 cause I still have ideas for it???

.................................

The next morning, she was the one to wake up first.

She yawned and stretched, the light from outside barely lighting up the room, signifying that it was still too early to begin the day.

She turned to Cregan who still laid fast asleep. His hair was a mess, a reminder of what they had done the night before.

Only then did she feel the dull ache between her legs.

She sighed lightly and shuffled closer to the man. She gently brushed her lips against his.

She let out a surprised squeak when Cregan kissed her back.

The woman pulled away to see Cregan's lips pull into a wide grin, his eyes still closed.

"Cregan…." She lightly reprimanded.

A soft chuckled rose from his throat and his arm reached out blindly until it found her waist and he pulled her as close to him as he could. "You'll have to forgive me, my love," he huskily whispered into her ear, "I'm only now recalling our late night adventure."

She hummed lightly, her cheek against his throat, "You recall it fondly, I hope?"

His grip on her waist tightened, "Very fondly."

She giggled and began to kiss his jaw.

He let out a small groan as the rest of his body began to stir awake at her touch and he finally opened his eyes, "So eager to go again?"

"I'd never leave this bed if we didn't have to," she admitted as she nipped at his ear.

He pulled his head away to look at her, "we've a few hours at least. Let us use them wisely."

"You've grown rather bold overnight, my lord husband," she teased. "What happened to the meek man I slept with only yesterday?"

He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "He now knows how pleasureful laying with his wife can be, and he's eager for more."

Her cheeks flushed a deep red, "Is that so?"

His eyes took in her flushed state, "Only if you'll have me."

She was taken aback by his words, only to have it grow a boldness within her, "Gods, I'll have you in every lifetime, Cregan Stark."

He brushed his lips against hers, and the kiss grew hungry.

Cregan reached down below the blankets with a steady hand and she gasps when his fingers brush against his clit.

She pushed her upper body away from him, "Evil man…"

His thumb continued its movement against her, "Tell me what you want."

She swung a leg over his body and she forced herself on top of him. His grin only widened as she did so.

Once comfortable, Cregan began his movements again. She let out a curse under her breath at the feeling.

His other hand found her waist, rubbing soothing circles against her skin. "Taking me like this, sweet woman?"

"I intend to try," she finally admitted as she willed herself to do so.

She reached down and lined his thick cock up to her body, and began to lower her hips.

She lets out a small whimper and the new sensation, "It's too much. It's too much… I can't…"

The hands on Cregan's chest are trembling even though they don't hold any of her weight.

She's never been on top before, and it's getting to her.

Cregan reaches up and grabs her jaw, pulling her face down to his gently. His voice was a calm reassurance,"It's not. Look at me."

He waits until she does, "You know you can take it. You've taken it before. You're just panicking. Take a breath."

He watches her chest expand and contrast with a shaky breath.

"Do it again."

He makes her continue this until he can feel her walls relax around him.

"Good. You're doing good, sweet girl."

His hands go to her hips and gently push her further down on him more.

This time a moan leaves her lips instead. "Oh, gods…"

A string of groans leaves Cregan's lips when she begins to roll her hips.

Judging by the confidence she just gained, they'll be doing this position more often.

"You complete me, my girl," he finally moans out as his hand moves to her clit again.

The two move in tandem, as if they were truly made for one another.

Completely drunk on pleasure, she lowers her upper body to his, desperately trying to capture his lips with hers.

He is quick to give in, letting her take anything she wanted.

The kiss is messy and unorganized, gasps and moans interrupting it consistently, but the two didn't care.

This new feeling was worth it.

"Only one w…" Cregan let out a stiff whine when she rolled her hips just right, "w… one woman for me, and it's you… gods, it's you."

He didn't last long, and neither did she, the two making a mess of the furs on their bedspread.

She collapsed onto him, not bothering to pull herself off of him completely. He brushed a hand up and down her back comfortingly.

Once the two caught their breath, she interrupted the silence. "We still have time…"

......................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver

#fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #game of thrones x reader #cregan stark x you #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #cregan stark x y/n #game of thrones imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #cregan x reader #creagan stark #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark #cregan stark x female reader

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queenofwands89 · 3 months ago

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The Storm Within (Part Two) Tyler Owens x fem!reader

Part 1

Summary: Following the events of the first part, a severely injured Y/N lies in a coma while a heartbroken Tyler waits by her side, wondering if she will ever wake up.

Warnings: Hospital, Reader is in a coma, Fluff, Sad Tyler, Slightly angsty.

Notes: I didn't expect so many people to read the first part, let alone want a second, so thank you—it means a lot. I rushed to write this to avoid making you wait any longer, lol. I'm currently accepting writing prompts for Jake Seresin, Tyler Owens, and Glen Powell.

Enjoy byeeee!

Two weeks have slipped by in a blur of sterile hospital corridors and the endless hum of medical machines. Each passing day is a battle against time, unrelenting in its indifference, and Tyler's world has shrunk to the confines of your hospital room.

Tyler sits by your side, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but refusing to close. He's lost count of the hours he's spent watching the rise and fall of your chest, willing you to wake up. The constant beeping of the heart monitor and the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator are his only companions.

The rest of the storm-chasing team visits regularly, each holding onto hope in their own way. Boone leaves a fresh bouquet of wildflowers on the bedside table every other day, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the clinical white of the room. Dani brings her laptop, working quietly in the corner, refusing to leave until Tyler is forced to rest. Dexter makes sure Tyler eats, even if it means feeding him himself. And Lilly, with her unwavering optimism, often slips into the chair opposite Tyler, regaling him with stories and laughs to keep the darkness at bay.

One evening, as the crimson hues of the setting sun penetrate the blinds, Tyler is gently persuaded by Lilly to step outside the room, if only for a few minutes. The fresh air at the hospital's small garden is a reprieve he didn’t know he needed. He takes deep breaths, trying to shake off the weight that's settled on his shoulders.

As he walks back towards your room, he overhears a hushed conversation between two nurses. "It's been two weeks, and she's still fighting. It's remarkable," he hears one of them say. A glimmer of hope ignites in his chest. You're a fighter; you always have been.

Pushing open the door to your room, Tyler's heart skips a beat. One of the doctors, Dr. Emerson, is standing by your bed, reviewing the latest results. Tyler rushes in, anxiety and hope warring on his face.

"Any changes, Doc?" Tyler asks, his voice barely a whisper.

Dr. Emerson turns to him, a small, comforting smile on her face. "Her vitals are steadily improving. The brain activity shows promising signs. She's still in a coma, but these are good indicators. It’s just a matter of time."

With those reassuring words, Dr. Emerson gives Tyler a gentle nod before turning to leave the room, the other doctor following closely behind. The soft click of the closing door lingers in the air, marking the transition from clinical observation to personal vigil.

Tyler takes his seat beside you, gently holding your hand. "Hey, beautiful," he begins, his voice soft but steady. "I know you can hear me. I thought I'd share some stories, like old times."

He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Remember the first storm we chased together? God, we were terrified but so exhilarated," he chuckles. "The sky was this angry shade of gray, and the wind was howling like it was possessed. We had no idea what we were doing, but we felt invincible."

Tyler's eyes glisten with unshed tears as he continues. "You kept yelling at me to keep the camera steady while you took notes. I think I was too busy being amazed by how fearless you were. The tornado touched down so close, and we got caught in the downdraft. But you... you never lost your cool. You guided us out of there like it was just another day at the office."

He squeezes your hand gently, hoping for any sign of acknowledgment. "Then there was that time in Kansas. Do you remember? We were staying at that run-down motel, and the power went out during the middle of the night. We ended up sitting in the car, wrapped in blankets, watching the lightning storm. You said it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

The corners of Tyler's lips lift into a sad smile as he recounts more memories. "You were always the brave one, Y/N. Like that time we drove into the eye of the storm. Literally. Everyone told us it was too dangerous, but you convinced us, and we did it. And I'll never forget the look on your face when we made it out in one piece."

A silence hangs in the air for a moment, the only sounds coming from the steady beeps and hums of the medical equipment.

"I'm not gonna lie, Y/N. These past two weeks have been the hardest of my life. Seeing you like this... it's killing me. But I know you're fighting. You always do," Tyler says, voice cracking with emotion.

Tyler leans closer, his head resting on the side of your bed. He speaks softly, almost to himself. "You know, Dani was telling me about how you kept her sane during her first storm chase. She said she wouldn't have made it if it weren't for you. And Boone, he's a mess without you bossing him around. Dexter too. None of us are the same without you."

He looks at your serene face, a fresh wave of determination washing over him. "But we all believe in you. We know you're coming back to us. And when you do, we'll be ready with stories and laughs and everything that's been missing."

As the sun sets outside, casting a warm glow over the room, Tyler continues to talk. He recounts every little detail of your adventures together, from the funniest moments to the most heart-stopping ones, painting a vivid picture with his words.

The world is a foggy blur as consciousness slowly begins to seep back into your mind. The silence in the room is broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the medical machines. Your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to open them, a sense of disorientation clouding your thoughts.

As your eyes finally flutter open, the dim light of the room gradually sharpens into focus. The first thing you see is Tyler, slumped in the chair beside your hospital bed. His hand grips yours tightly, as if even in sleep, he cannot let go. His face is etched with lines of stress and fatigue, evidence of the nights he has spent by your side.

For a few moments, you simply watch him. Even in his exhausted state, there’s an undeniable tenderness in the way he holds your hand. You notice the dark circles under his eyes, the stubble that has grown from days of neglecting himself. Deep down, an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love wells up within you. You realize now more than ever just how much he means to you.

Gradually, you muster the strength to give his hand a weak squeeze, something to pull him from the depths of his weariness. His eyes flutter open slowly, confusion briefly crossing his features before they lock onto yours. Instantly, his face transforms—a mix of shock, awe, and profound relief.

"Y/N..." he breathes, his voice shaky and filled with emotion. Tears pool in his eyes, and you can see him fighting to hold them back, but it’s a losing battle. As the realization washes over him, that you’re finally awake, his tears begin to fall freely. "You’re... you’re awake. Thank God, you’re awake."

A lump forms in your throat, making it hard to speak, but you manage a small smile. "Tyler," you rasp, the single word carrying all the emotions you can't yet express.

He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing fervent kisses to your knuckles. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so much," he chokes out, his voice breaking with raw emotion. "I thought... I thought I’d lost you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. For everything. For the things I said. I was scared and I handled it all wrong."

You can feel the wetness of his tears on your hand, and it breaks your heart to see him in such pain. Gathering what strength you can, you shake your head slightly. "No, Tyler. We both did things we regret. I pushed you away when I should have let you in. But we can’t change the past. We can only move forward."

He nods, his teary eyes never leaving yours. "We’ll fix this. Together," he vows, his voice filled with a newfound determination.

Your smile grows a bit stronger, as you grip his hand with a bit more strength. "Together," you echo, the word binding the two of you in a promise of unity and hope.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Tyler repeats fervently, his tears now mingling with a relieved laugh.

You can't help but let out a light giggle, the sound so sweet to Tyler’s ears. "I love you, I love you, I love you," you reply, your heart feeling lighter for the first time in a long while.

Tyler chuckles softly, his expression softening as he looks at you. "I think the doctors are going to start charging me rent for how long I've been here."

You laugh weakly, the sound like music to his ears. "Well, as long as you don't start claiming squatter's rights. We might have to evict you."

His laughter mingles with yours, the room now filled with a warmth and happiness that seemed impossible just moments ago. "Deal. I'll leave when you do," he declares, his voice brimming with love and commitment.

The path to recovery will undoubtedly be long and arduous, but for now, the hardest part is over. The heavy cloud of uncertainty has lifted, replaced by a glimmering beacon of hope. The room, once cold and sterile, now feels warm, filled with the palpable power of your mutual love and commitment.

As the rhythmic beeping of the machines continues to fill the background, you and Tyler share a moment of silent understanding, knowing that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them hand in hand. "I love you," he whispers once more, the promise of these words a soothing balm to your soul.

"I love you," you whisper back, sealing the bond that will carry you through the days to come.

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uncharismatic-fauna · 9 months ago

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The Palestine Sunbird Persists

The Palestine sunbird, also known as the orange-tufted sunbird (Cinnyris osea) is the national bird of Palestine, and often seen as a symbol of resistance and hope. This species occurs in dry climates, particularly desert, scrubland, and savannahs, but can also be found in orchards and gardens where flowers are abundant. In addition to the Levant, C. osea occurs throughout the southwest cost of Saudia Arabia and the coasts of Yemen and Oman in the south.

C. osea is a small bird, 8 to 12 cm (3.1-4.7 in) long with a wingspan of only 14 to 16 cm (5.5-6.2 in). Males weigh on average 7.6 g (0.26 oz) and females are slightly smaller, at about 6.8 g (0.24 oz). Males are quite easy to identify due to their striking plumage; their feathers are iridescent, appearing dark until they shimmer glossy blue or green, with orange tufts at the side of the breast. In contrast females are fairly drab; grey-brown with a lighter underside. The beaks of the Palestine sunbird are also noted for their distinctively long and curved, which they have developed to efficiently feed on nectar.

Although not directly part of the hummingbird family, the Palestine sunbird shares many similarities with the group. Its diet consists of nectar, and is supplemented with insects. Their tongues are long, and brush-like, and the shape of their beak allows them to reach down to the base of the flower. For flowers that are , they will use their sharp beaks to pierce the side and access the nectar directly. All this is done at very high speeds, but unlike hummingbirds the Palestine sunbird cannot hover in place, and must land in order to feed. Because of their primary reliance on nectar, the orange-tufted sunbird is an important pollinator in its native region. Adults are rarely predated upon, but eggs and young are often targets for lizards, snakes, and birds of prey.

Reproduction begins in June, and continues through October. Males establish and defend territories, and court females by singing to attract a potential mate, then chasing her until she perches to signal her acceptance. Following the pairing, the two construct a purse-like nest, sometimes with a porch-like structure, that hangs from a branch. In this nest, 1-2 eggs are laid, and are incubated primarily by the female, while the male provides her food. The eggs take 13 to 14 days to hatch, and chicks are taken care of by both parents for an additional 14 to 21 days. Individuals can live up to 5 years in the wild.

Conservation status: The Palestine sunbird has a large range and population, and is thus considered Least Concern by the IUCN. Its primary threat is habitat loss due to agriculture and urban development.

If you send me proof that you’ve made a donation to UNRWA or another organization benefiting Palestinians, I’ll make art of any animal of your choosing.

Remember, the donation can be in any amount– every dollar counts!

Photos

Jorrit Vlot

Dula Alhashimi

Rana Hijawi

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bokunoheros · 25 days ago

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TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab (they do wear a dress and lingerie tho), reader and shouto are married, reader was in 1-A, pro hero shouto, everyone is 27+, alcohol consumption (shouto’s drunk), mentions of smoking a blunt (reader’s high), sex in a classroom, idfk GENRE: smut bruh SUMMARY: when you suggest doing it in public briefly and in passing to your husband, you were not expecting him to take you up on that offer at your fucking high school reunion!? WORD COUNT: 1.9K 🦊’s A/N: okay. so. this was originally supposed to be for iida, but since FORDULA couldn’t do day 18 like they were meant to… i wrote it for shouto instead bc im not writing for tenya sorry yall // also i wrote most of this the day before it was due after waking up at 5am so uhm 👍 god help me

the very last thing you were expecting from your husband would be the idea of him enjoying semi-public sex—it made sense how one would arrive to this conclusion, seeing as how he’s such a reserved person and all. you don’t even remember when it was that you brought it up—it must have just been a comment in passing; not that shouto missed it, of course. and then the suggestion got him thinking…. like seriously considering it. the more he thought about it, the more arousing it became to him, until it was a borderline fantasy: him fucking you somewhere you could easily be caught at with a large hand covering your mouth to make sure no one could overhear your desperate little noises. fuck.

now he finds himself at his ten year high school reunion, all dressed up with a raging erection that he was trying to hide by sitting at one of the tables there, grateful for the fabric draped over them, as he drinks and drinks to calm his nerves. thank god you volunteered to drive back home tonight. you don’t know what possessed you, but you didn’t feel like getting slizzard tonight—a stark contrast to your husband, who was trying to drink his boner away. (without much luck, mind you.)

when you come back over from the dancefloor to check in on your husband, however, he’s quick to excuse himself from the table he’d been seated at all night and drag you off to an empty classroom.

“shouto? ‘s something wrong?” you ask, looking up at him.

“no—i just—” how does he put this? “really wanna fuck you,” is what comes out of his drunken lips, his brain to mouth filter having shut off for the night. (was it really there to begin with though..?)

“oh!” you squeak as your cheeks flush at his words and he backs you up against the door. “h–here?” you’re at a loss for words entirely while shouto places both large, calloused hands on your hips as he begins to press sloppy, drunken kisses along your neck. “sh–shouto!”

“mmh?” he hums, not pausing in his actions—he doubles down, actually, by nipping at the tender flesh of your throat, the hands on your hips sliding down your thighs, down to the hem of the disgustingly skimpy dress you had decided to wear tonight—the reason for his raging erection all night—where they sneak up under it and back of to your hips so he could feel your bare flesh, quirk activating enough for you to feel an extreme difference in temperatures, but not ruin the fabric of your dress from the inside out.

“we—we can’t do that here; someone’s gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long!” you weakly protest, words holding no real weight. because if you were being one hundred percent honest, you wanted this just as much as he did, even without any alcohol in your system! (you had smoked a blunt and hotboxed the shit out of your car after arriving at the prestigious school, though, as you refused to be sober for an event such as this.)

“oh yeah? like who?” he counters, beginning to suck at your neck, not lingering on any one spot.

“a–ashido, probably! i— i just got done dancing with her—”

“i know, ‘ve been watchin’ you all night,” he slurs. “so you’re just taking a break—maybe you went to the bathroom, that’s not her business.” his hips press into yours, and you whine at the feeling of his hardened cock pressing against your crotch.

“god—you’re so full of shit,” you tell him, burying one hand in his two toned hair while the other settles on a sturdy shoulder, and todoroki can’t help but smile at your words.

“so?” you can feel him grinning against your neck, like a drunken fool in love (which is exactly what he was, by the way).

you’re out of comebacks and excuses as to why he shouldn’t fuck you right here, right now, so instead of trying to argue against hip, you tug at his hair so he’ll look at you before leaning in to press a kiss to his plump lips.

he tasted like the sake he’d been sipping on all night as he watched you with that intense gaze of his—something he inherited from his father, like it or not—and he hums in a pleased manner as he grips your hips tighter.

“how much have you had to drink tonight, baby?” you ask once you reluctantly pull away from the kiss—a question shouto chooses to ignore.

he’d had maybe three and a half red solo cups worth of sake in his system, which was enough for his inhibitions of being caught melt away. he almost hopes you two do get caught (by an old classmate at least) just so he can wordlessly flex that he was the one with the smoking hot spouse and not them.

so, with your minimal resistance and shouto’s horny persistence, it’s not long until he’s got his thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties and is tugging them down your thighs, asking you to step out of them so can keep them in his pocket (for the rest of the reunion).

“hhnng—,” you whine as two of shouto’s icy fingers move to play with your clit, and a chill runs down your spine at the feeling. “sho—” you’re cut off by a kiss as your husband slots his lips over yours, teeth clacking slightly as he kisses you sloppily and hungrily. it wasn’t unusual for shouto’s to be a bit of a sloppy kisser (as it turns out, he’s a really big fan of swapping spit), but generally he was more put together than he was right now—it’s like he was trying to eat you whole as his tongue easily slid into your already open mouth.

you, ever the tease, quickly get with the program and arch your back, pressing your chest against his, and start sucking on his almost burning tongue—something that catches him only slightly off guard. he’s fast with his response though, left hand moving to squeeze your ass, heating up enough to leave a faint burning handprint.

“fuck!” you squeal at the searing touch and accidentally bite shouto’s tongue in the process.

he pulls away with a hiss but no real disdain before the same hand that had left a print on your butt comes up to cover your mouth. sure, the music in the gym was awfully loud, but there could still be some other people in the hallway—maybe people who actually had to use the bathroom. it doesn’t matter. what matters is that shouto gets to fuck you, and—an idea comes to mind that only his drunk, secretly perverted brain could think of.

“shhh,” he shushes you, pulling his hand away from your mouth in order to undo his belt buckle and unbutton his nice dress pants.

biting your lip, you nod as he tugs the slacks and his boxers down to about half way down his thick thighs, letting his painfully hard cock spring free and slap against his lower stomach. you can’t help but bite your bottom lip at the sight, and you go to sink to your knees to suck him off before he’s tugging you back up by the hair.

“no,” he pants, taking his dick in one hand as he plants the other back on your hip. “need t’fuck you—please, angel, i— it hurts,” he whines, lining his throbbing length up with your already wet slit.

“yeah? okay, fuck—go ahead, baby,” you give him permission to actually insert himself, and he groans loudly at the feeling of your tight heat finally engulfing him. jesus! he had waited all night for this, and it was so worth it.

“hnngh—shit,” he whimpers, the hand that was previously holding his dick moving to play with your puffy clit as he pushes into you slowly at first before bottoming out all at once. fuck!

your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but moan shouto’s name while tugging at his hair as he kisses you sloppy style once more.

with how drunk and horny he was, it doesn’t take long for your husband to approach his climax, and with the way he was toying with your sensitive button, you’re quickly being worked up to one too, until—

knockknockknock!

“hello..? i thought i heard someone groan, are you okay in there?” the voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place your finger on who it was. (it was hagakure, by the way.)

shouto freezes in all his actions and looks at you with half lidded eyes and a knowing smirk, cheeks flushed as he tries to quieten his breathing. your hips involuntarily roll down against the fingers still pressed against your clit, and you accidentally let out a quiet moan before covering your mouth with both hands, face burning with shame and arousal.

“all fine in here, thanks,” shouto’s able to get out, though his voice is strained. “just— ….reminiscing!” he lies, as if he wasn’t balls deep in you right now.

“ooh! fun! can i join?” the door handle jiggles, and shouto’s hand flys out to freeze the door shut. “—huh? hey, what’s with the door?”

“it’s—uhm, it’s personal memories,” he follows up, dick twitching inside you. fuck, how was he meant to last like this?

you almost giggle at his lame ass excuse and over the top reaction, until you remember that over the top reaction is the exact reason tooru hadn’t just seen you both in such a compromising position.

“we’ll be—done soon!” you call out, and at the sound of your voice and insistence on her not coming in, the invisible woman gets the message before saying oh! okay! and finally walking off.

“that was— that was close, wasn’t it?” shouto pants, starting to move his hips again as his fingers resume their circular motions against your clit.

“yeah, i could really feel how excited you were,” you chuckle, to which shouto huffs and picks up his pace. “nngh–!” you moan softly, as you both finally get a chance to cum.

your husband's dick twitches sporadically deep inside you before hot, sticky cum spills out of it and into you as your pussy spasms and flutters around him, milking shouto for everything he was worth and then some.

slowly pulling out of you, he plants a kiss to your spit-soaked lips before pulling his pants back up and redoing his belt and melting away the ice he had created not too long ago as you tug the hem of your dress down, and—hey! that panty thief!

“shouto…. aren’t you forgetting something?” you try to remind him, cringing at the feeling of his cum starting to leak out of your wet cunt and trickle down your thigh.

“mmh,” his brows scrunch in thought, as if he’s actually thinking. “no? i don’t think so?” he moves to grab the door handle, but you bat his hand away and tug at his wrist.

“my…. my panties?” you say, trying to squeeze your thighs together to prevent any more cum from dripping out, but to no avail.

“oh! right—” he goes to take them out of his pocket before he pauses and a smirk tugs at his pouty lips. “you can have them back when we get home,” he tells you, opening the door and starting to walk out. “now come on, the others are going to get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

goddamn him!

return to KINKTOBER | S. TODOROKI M.LIST

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sanakiras · 7 months ago

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HEAVEN

PAIRING — jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

SYNOPSIS — wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.

TAGS — established relationship, explicit sexual content, sub-ish virgin!wonwoo, lowkey corruption kink, i have a sickening crush on this man can you tell, not proofread :)

♪ — the nbhd - heaven,, hank lotion - k-sEx

NOTE — gam3 bo1 wonwoo and ep 1 nana tour wonwoo footage has been making me act UP and i think he’s just so cute <3 screw the hard dom wonu agenda i like to see my men a lil WEAK ‼️😁

like most people, you felt rather intimidated when you met jeon wonwoo for the first time.

stoic, quiet, intelligent. the strong and silent type. that was the clear image you had of him. and to top it all off, he had the criminally good looks too. a relatively rare kind of man to come across, in your opinion.

though you began to see him in a different light after bonding with him over your shared love for video games. since then, you’ve discovered he can actually be quite talkative, cracking silly puns or laughing at the corniest dad jokes. he’s well-spoken and is actually very open about his feelings, which you found refreshing.

and while developing a friendship with him, you realized how much of a big softie he actually is, which paints quite the contrast compared to his cold and quiet persona he unintentionally seems to put up towards those outside his circle of close friends and family.

it reminds you of the day he asked you out — that sweet, shy smile on his face with rosy cheeks, all flustered and stuttering that you really don’t have to say yes if you don’t feel like it and he’ll push it all to the side like nothing happened if that’s what you’d prefer—

you very easily interrupted him by agreeing to go on a date with him. you’d never seen him smile wider.

wonwoo is cute when he smiles.

and despite his nervousness in the beginning, he still made efforts to be as talkative as he could and show you his interest in you, which you found very sweet. you had a great time with him, and you noticed rather quickly how comfortable you felt around him.

a couple dates later, he asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend, and you certainly didn’t refuse him.

he’s also turned out to be a gentleman in his own way — subtly saying he could do certain things for you to make your life easier in that monotone voice of his, eyes following you around whenever he’s with you.

the first time he slept over at your place was rather recently after you two made it official. it wasn’t planned, since he was supposed to go back to his place after your date, but due to issues with public transport, you offered him to stay with you instead.

with his face and chest bare, he got into bed next to you. of course you’d imagined what he looked like underneath his big hoodies, but actually having him by your side like this was different.

and wonwoo was putting every bit of effort into playing it cool, even though he was freaking out to be sleeping next to his first girlfriend, forcing himself to look away from your tank top that left very little to the imagination.

yet ironically, it was all he could fantasize about before drifting to sleep.

normally, you’d only let a guy into your bed to do things other than sleeping once you’ve been dating for quite a while. it’s never been something you like to initiate quickly — but wonwoo’s been making you question it. severely.

because he looks so hot when he’s out on the field with his football team, when he’s working out, when he’s gaming on his pc, even when he just fucking smiles at you. the worst thing of it all might be that he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit aware of how attractive he is, nor what effect it has on you.

maybe you should really just tell him you want to jump him like a tree.

but you don’t want to rush him. for all you know, he doesn’t feel like doing that at all with you yet, and for some reason you just didn’t know when or how to ask him about it. later, you thought to yourself.

though you will say you’ve been pushing his buttons a little over the course of time. ever since that night, you’ve subtly been putting yourself on display for him. low-cut shirts and dresses so he can take a peek at your cleavage, accidentally exposing a bit of the fabric of your lingerie, sitting in his lap and rubbing up on him — unintentionally, of course.

it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to smirk when you felt him stiffen up underneath you.

the progress of your relationship has been nothing but positive, really. but you’re aching for him to just touch you at this point.

the day you hit your breaking point isn’t much later. you were trying on some newly bought dresses in front of him, one more revealing than the other — sundresses always work magic on men for whatever reason — and you turned around to find him pathetically trying to hide his hard-on while seated on your bed.

and you just couldn’t find it in you to wait any longer.

so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap, hands on the back of his neck as you’re grinding against him. his glasses are sitting lop-sided on his nose, black locks messy from your fingers threading through them, lips swollen from your kisses.

the moment he feels your fingers tugging at his hoodie, he feels the need to clear up what he’s been meaning to tell you for a while now.

“i need to tell you something. i’ve—” he cuts himself off when he accidentally lets out a whimper, “i’ve never had sex with anyone.”

he’s still heavily breathing, looking at you in anticipation, and you just can’t escape the buzzing feeling you get from the idea of taking his virginity.

“do you want to?” you ask him, and how could he say no when you’re holding his face like this, looking at him like you’re willing to give him the ride of his life?

“yeah, yeah, i just—i usually don’t last very long,” he sheepishly admits, then internally asking himself why the fuck he would say that, “sorry, i’m nervous.”

but you think it’s endearing. “i don’t mind. we can always go for a second round, right?”

all he can do is nod his head in agreement. “i, i um—i’m not sure what to do next. i’m sorry, this is embarrassing.”

“it’s not, really. it’s not some big performance you need to put up, it’s something fun and exciting and intimate. you can go ahead and relax, and tell me if you like or don’t like what i’m doing.” you reassure him so patiently, which puts him at ease.

jesus — if anything, he’s already a whimpering, stuttering mess and you’re hardly even touching him.

so you move your hand down into his boxers, fingers wrapping around him to test the waters. he gasps in surprise once he feels you touching him, heat rushing to his cheeks.

“just let me take care of you, ‘kay? we can stop anytime.” you tell him, and he trusts you enough to let you go on.

you press another kiss to his lips before moving backwards, fingers taking a hold of the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers.

the cold on his skin makes him shiver, but he’s hardly given the time to feel exposed in front of you when you’ve already got your hands on him, pleasantly surprised by his size.

“you’re so big, wonu.” you tell him in a sweet voice, feeling like you’re about to drool at the sight of him.

“didn’t think i was big.” he mumbles more to himself than to you, staring at the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing.

you chuckle a little as you watch him. “you are. gonna have to work for it to make you fit into me.” the words make his eyes widen, images of you getting fucked by him flashing through his mind.

“fuck, really?”

“mhm. but you’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

wonwoo is absolutely crumbling underneath you here. the effect that your mere words have on him should be studied, because shit, he’s never felt this hot before. why is it so hot in here? is he sweating already? “yeah, i’ll—i’ll do anything you want me to.”

he’s such a sweetheart that it makes you want to ruin him.

for the sake of both his and your own pleasure, you decide not to tease any longer and touch his cock with your lips. he lets out a moan of surprise, the feeling being unfamiliar to him, but holy shit — this has got to be what heaven feels like.

his chest heaves as he tries to control his breathing once more, focusing on keeping his breathing by his stomach. your tongue darts out to lick his cock, and he whimpers, which makes you triumphantly smile a little.

you’re genuinely curious to see how long he can last, so you catch him by surprise by taking him into your mouth as far as possible, and his hand subconscously flies to the back of your head, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to push your head down or pull it back. he releases a choked moan, spurring you on to keep him lodged in your throat despite his efforts to pull you off him.

“fuck—please don’t make me cum already, baby, please—” he begs, loving the feeling of your mouth on him like that — he just doesn’t want to hit his peak that fast.

unfortunately for him, you do.

with your mouth currently no longer on him, you gently jerk him off instead, his hips automatically bucking into your grip. “what if i want you to?”

“you’ve barely—barely touched me. ‘s embarrassing.” he chokes out. the heat is still rushing to his cheeks. his hands are shaking.

of course he’s nervous. you’re his first time, his first girlfriend, it’s all new to him. he’s clearly afraid you might be turned off by him being all flustered like this.

so you make it your mission to show him it’s very much the opposite.

discarding your dress, you’re left in your tank top and underwear, nipples poking through the thin, white fabric. you move to tilt his face up with your glossy, acrylic nail, gently holding his chin, your face mere inches away from his.

“do you have any idea how wet i am? just from seeing you like this?” you ask, pulling his one hand down so he can feel the dampness of your panties. “bet you could slip right in.”

a broken whimper slips out of his mouth when he feels it. he didn’t know you were this turned on.

you push his head and upper body back against the pillows, making him lie down fully, and you’re just so eager to suck the life out of him.

the feeling of your warm mouth and tongue around him makes him experience a sensation he didn’t think was possible. christ, this must be what heaven feels like.

“oh my god—you’re so fucking good.” he’s arching his back with his eyes tightly shut from the pleasure you’re giving him. it’s only when you take him as far in your throat as possible that the first guttural groan is ripped from the depths of his chest. it’s a low, sexy sound that makes you clench around nothing.

he’s burning hot under you, causing his glasses to fog up a little. he carelessly throws the pair onto his nightstand, the grip on the back of your head becoming harsher and less gentle than before, because he’s that fucking close now.

it’s cute seeing wonwoo not knowing what to do with himself. keeping your mouth on his cock, gripping the sheets, throwing his head back before he casts his eyes back down to watch you suck him off — it’s like he’s being overstimulated in the best way possible.

it’s enough for you to sense he’s close, which makes you take your mouth off him to jerk him off instead, all so you can watch him chase his release. “that’s it, wonu, give it to me.”

there’s a sudden shiver that runs from his back and core all the way down to his toes. he tenses up, unintentionally grabbing your wrist to stop your movements as he trembles and his body gives in to his orgasm.

once he’s coming down from his high, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

“that was… holy shit.” he laughs a little to himself, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“i’m that good, huh?”

“yeah.”

“wanna keep going?”

“mhm.”

“okay. take off your shirt.”

wonwoo blinks for a moment. he practically forgot he was still wearing one, so he sits up and gets rid of the black shirt, throwing it beside your bed, now completely bare before you.

if he’s being honest, you did ease his nerves by letting him have his first orgasm already. the strange sense of shame he previously felt has disappeared into the air, with only nervous excitement left.

he feels good.

especially when he watches you move to sit on your knees on the bed, removing the tank top and slipping out of your underwear.

his eyes are glued to your naked body, hardly able to look away — that is, until you sit down in his lap, your dripping heat touching his hardening dick, making him twitch under you.

“where do you keep your condoms?”

the question forces him out of his constant staring at your body. “uh—nightstand.” he mutters, taking the initiative to reach and get it himself.

thankfully, he manages to get it on himself quickly. you urge him to lie back down again while you position yourself above him, shamelessly staring at his strong chest and broad shoulders.

his mouth is agape when you sink down on him, and fuck, he’s in so deep.

the stretch burns, especially because you didn’t get yourself ready, but you’re so dripping wet to the point you don’t care — you need him in you.

wonwoo notices you struggle despite your arousal. “you don’t have to take me all the way if it hurts.”

you hum, a half-smirk creeping onto your face. “but it hurts so good. so i will.”

once he’s sheathed fully inside you, he’s subconsciously holding his breath. the anticipation for you to move is killing him. the sensitivity of his dick makes him whimper, his lashes fluttering as his teeth sink into his lower lip in a failed attempt to hold it together.

you decide to tease him a little by clenching down on him. his hands fly to your hips, gripping the skin harder than intended from the sudden feeling, his breathing becoming erratic again. “hah—don’t do that, please, i don’t wanna cum yet baby—please.”

“why? you close?” you ask him with an innocent face, knowing damn well what you’re doing to him.

“yeah. need you so bad.” he answers truthfully, his ego and pride nowhere to be found anymore. whether he sounds pathetic or not, he doesn’t give a shit. all he knows is that you’re sitting on top of him and he needs you to make him feel what he’s been desperate to feel for so damn long.

so you tilt your head. “‘s okay, wonu. i’ll give it to you.”

he can hardly even make out a response before you lift your hips and proceed to sink back down on him, your hands on his chest. a filthy moan rolls past his lips — you think it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard in your damn life.

then you begin to roll your hips, and he sucks through his teeth from the feeling, a mix of overstimulation and pleasure rushing through him. once you let out your first dragged-out moan, his fingers twitch for a moment, digging deeper into your skin.

“have you thought about this? fucking me?”

despite the position he’s in right now, he still feels his face heat up when you ask him dirty things like that, even more so when he answers them.

“yeah, i did.”

“when? tell me. i wanna hear it.” you tell him, and when you’re so gorgeously riding him like this, how could he not oblige?

wonwoo swallows, stuttering as he focuses on recalling the memories while admiring you and the feeling you’re letting him experience. “when i saw you wearing that short skirt on our second date, and—and that time you came to watch me at the football game. couple of my teammates were drooling over you. so was i.”

his words turn you on, because you doubted whether you were sensing actual jealousy from him that night, and this confirms it.

“were you?” you ask, running your nails down his stomach. “what’d you do about it?”

he bites his lip. “i’ll sound like a pervert if i answer that.”

teasing him again, you push yourself down on him almost harshly, relishing in the way he gasps under you. wonwoo is wonderfully responsive in bed, and you’re having a fucking field trip with it.

“yeah? try me.”

“i touched myself after getting home, and i... thought about you. in that skirt.”

“i’ll wear it for you next time.” you smile, watching him close his eyes in pleasure when you leave your marks on his chest, putting a few hickeys on his neck and collarbone on purpose. “i touched myself thinking of you, too.”

that makes him twitch inside you, which is exactly what you wanted.

his hands dip to the curve of your ass, following your movement. “really?”

“mhm. i thought you looked so sexy in your football attire. you were wearing that tight compression shirt that you always wear when you go to the gym too — drove me nuts, wonu.” you confess, which seems to work as a brief shot of adrenaline for him.

he moves to sit up, bringing your bodies closer together by looping his arms around your waist, the slight change in position making you moan.

the drag of his cock inside you is slowly making you go insane. your face is hot and you’re dripping wet for him, sucking him in to the point you feel like you need to claw at the walls.

“god, feels so good.” he mutters, his mouth finding your breasts before he begins to suck on the skin like a man starved.

once he notices you’re both getting closer, but you’re getting tired from your position on top, he takes a breath and flips you over, now hovering above you.

burying his face in the crook of your neck, he holds onto your body and fucks you. his thrusts are harder than he intends them to, the control over his body lost in his relentless drive to make you both feel good.

he’s panting hard, doing everything in his power to make you cum first this time while indulging in his own pleasure as well. “am i doing good for my first time? does it feel good?”

god, you can only half-catch the words with the way he’s fucking you. it’s almost funny — such a sweetheart he is, asking you if he’s doing well while simultaneously fucking you into oblivion.

“you’re so good, wonu. so good—‘m so close.” you cry out, manicured nails digging into his back, making him groan.

“wanna feel you cum around me so bad.” the words almost sound like a plea, like he’s begging you for it.

then he kisses your neck, and he hits the perfect spot inside you over and over, and it’s enough to make you clench so hard around him that he can’t hold it any longer. your orgasm makes your legs shake, and he fucks you right through it, making you wonder why the hell it took the universe so long to let him into your life.

he moans and whines and shakes when he hits his climax, twitching inside you, filling up the condom. with heavy breaths, he lets his body rest on top of you, his head by your collarbone, a comfortable silence emerging as your heartbeats slow and breathing steadies.

surprisingly, it’s him who speaks up first.

“i’m gonna need a while for my legs to start working again.” he chuckles breathily, covering his face a little when he notices you poking fun at him.

“aw, baby, did i drain you that much?”

“i genuinely can’t even feel my limbs.”

you laugh at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he smiles so sweetly — as if he didn’t just fuck the living daylights out of you. “wanna go again?”

he blushes a bit, tilting his head as if he has to think about it, before sheepishly giving you his answer.

“... yeah.”

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

#jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt ff #svt fic #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #svt smut #svthub #jeon wonwoo fanfic #original post

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rosenotactuallyquartz · 2 months ago

Text

amethyst & rose

(an analysis on their dynamic)

amethyst & rose have a very fascinating dynamic. amethyst looked up to rose, believing that she made everything better. the feeling was mutual. they never quite knew just how alike they were, but they inspired each other nonetheless.

"rose said i'm perfect the way i am!" — amethyst, crack the whip

“one very important relationship is amethyst with rose, because amethyst is what rose wished she could be." — steven universe podcast, volume 3, episode 1

from the beginning, rose felt a connection to amethyst. there were little pieces of rose’s soul in everyone she loved. from there, she wanted to give them the environment that she never had in her early years.

for example, rose perceived greg as the human version of herself in a lot of ways. their minds worked the same way. garnet & rose connected as gems who shared similar beliefs, and they bonded over their experiences related to love & interpersonal connections—the beauty they saw in things that were considered wrong in the eyes of homeworld’s society. as for pearl… she contrasted rose in many ways, and that made their connection meaningful in its own way, as partners. still, when it came to emotions, they were similar (i.e., how they felt when they wanted to protect something or someone, how they loved, etc. in general, they also felt everything very strongly, so strongly that it hurt them). rose was deeply inspired by her loved ones & often admired the traits & skills that she didn’t share with them. however, the similarities between rose & her loved ones likely played a role in what she wanted to do for them. she wanted everyone to have the environment she never had on homeworld. while there were no rules & freedom for all the crystal gems to be who they are (among other things), rose was very extreme, as sugar states.

"the thing that she really lacks is balance, any ability to temper her extremes. this is part of her character throughout her forms: she's always very extreme." — rebecca sugar, end of an era

“[amethyst] was sheltered from knowing the full truth of her origin & therefore she was not free to build on that aspect of her identity. both the advantages of freedom & the disadvantages of lack of structure manifested in her." — steven universe podcast, volume two, ep two

nevertheless, the way rose revered & loved everyone around her was incredibly sincere & intense. her guilt, self-hatred, & lack of self-acceptance made it hard for her to feel empathy for herself. at the same time, she gave so much care, love, & acceptance to all these little pieces of herself. she never realized just how similar she was to those she loved because she often hid things. to amethyst, rose had all the answers, and every day with her was relaxing, fun, and she felt loved. rose was older than her, the nurturing mom friend who (as amethyst said herself) made everything better. at the same time, it was hard for amethyst to fully understand rose's choices and she never saw a lot of her vulnerabilities.

amethyst & rose were so incredibly similar, & they had no idea just how much they had in common. still, they both knew they were similar. both are playful & young-at-heart. both feel emotions deeply, but they cope with their intensity by trying to make things lighthearted.

they share a sense of wonder that makes them see beauty in the most unusual and odd things—moss, random foods. they probably both brought back the most ridiculous things from missions, much to pearl's dismay.

while rose kept secrets, she also did everything in her power to shield amethyst from anything that might hurt her. because here’s something that pearl + rose have in common: they both want to help so much that it hurts them. they want to prevent harm, to protect those they love & see as precious, but they can’t control everything, & that causes a lot of pain.

"i'm not supposed to be small. and everyone's always acting like there's no problem. you can be anything you want to be. no! i can't. i can't even be the one thing i'm supposed to be, you know?" — amethyst, steven versus amethyst

“rose teaches amethyst: you can be anything you want to be! huge advocate of shapeshifting, self-expression, anarchy—however, amethyst can sense shame from rose and pearl over the kindergarten.” — rebecca sugar, end of an era

literally & figuratively, amethyst and rose both felt smaller compared to the other quartzes and diamonds, respectively. though their situations were different—rose coming from homeworld, & amethyst learning about it later—other quartzes made amethyst feel insecure, powerless, & "wrong," much like rose felt as a diamond. despite this, they both became crystal gems, rebels choosing to be their own individuals, knowing they don’t have to follow homeworld’s rules about their gem’s purpose. they both love living on earth.

"what? you mean about the bad thing? how this bad place is where bad gems came to grow more bad gems? is that what you're talking about?" — amethyst, on the run

"rose's message began to resonate, to pink diamond's dismay. her colony was falling apart. so, like a coward, she called for her diamond allies, yellow & blue, to help." — garnet, your mother and mine

their beliefs also made them ashamed when they looked at their gems. rose, though she became her own person and acted as if the past never happened, still remembered being a diamond.

"i never asked for it to be this way. i never asked to be made!" — amethyst, on the run

"[rose] couldn't stand herself; self-destruction is a huge theme throughout the show—the struggle of the feeling that you shouldn't exist, & what that can do to a person. a lot of the themes of the show exist within rose." — rebecca sugar, end of an era

knowing everything that the diamonds did fueled her self blame & only worsened her feeling that she shouldn’t exist. amethyst feels similarly, and while she became her own person and those around her acted like the kindergarten never happened, she felt like a “big mistake.”

"i’m not going to let you stand there & remind me of everything i hate about myself!" — amethyst, on the run

"[rose] reveres them instead, because they are better than she could ever be, & that reverence is so honest & intoxicating that it draws everyone closer to her, without them understanding the deep self-hatred that pull is coming from." — end of an era, page 88

for a variety of reasons, they both struggle with low self esteem. pink felt insecure around diamonds on homeworld & amethyst felt insecure around quartzes on homeworld, making them feel smaller not just physically but emotionally. they often felt like they needed to change themselves to fit in. they also struggle with the feeling that their closest loved ones are better than them, although the reasons may look a bit different. amethyst knows that garnet, rose, & pearl fought in the war and aren’t from the kindergarten, while rose also feels guilt about where she’s from and feels weak & “bad” compared to the others.

“amethyst finally understands rose... wanting her to shapeshift... not feel obligated to be a quartz... suddenly feels sympathy... kinship. it wasn’t amethyst being inspired by rose. rose was inspired by them!” — end of an era

“the truth is that the people in her life would be so much more understanding than she believes they will be.” — end of an era

“i know you feel bad! believe me, i get it! sometimes it feels like you're never gonna like yourself but it's possible, man!” — amethyst, i am my monster

whenever people ask me what rose needed to do in order to heal, my answer is long & complicated. but i will say, i always include connie’s quote from mindful education. “you have to be honest about how bad it feels so that you can move on!” rose needed to be honest & vulnerable with her loved ones. this includes conversations about the past that she was ashamed of. this is why i never joined the fans who say pearl’s reaction to finding out rose kept secrets from even her was inherently wrong or harmful to rose, as a partner.

i always wished we saw more scenes of rose & amethyst. their dynamic is fascinating, & if rose could see amethyst by the timeline of future, she would understand just how much she could relate to her. opening up was difficult for rose, & for a good reason. revealing secrets she was ashamed of, taking accountability, & apologizing for things would always result in abandonment (isolation) or physical & emotional pain (punishments) during her early life on homeworld, with no positives in the end. hiding must have felt like a necessity for survival, & her fear of being caught by the diamonds worsened her anxiety, making her feel used to always hiding. nevertheless, rose really did contribute to a safe environment for amethyst’s early years & i think that’s incredible.

despite the tragic parts, amethyst & rose had a dynamic that was both close & meaningful. amethyst loved the life she had with rose, & now, she completely understands rose’s actions & everything rose did for her. as for rose, she loved someone who she knew well enough to be able to relate to, on some level. seeing their similarities, even the ones that are as simple as personalities, probably helped rose love herself a bit more.

#love like queue #steven universe #amethyst su #su rose quartz #crystal gems #pink diamond #su #rosepearl #su analysis #su meta #steven universe analysis

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cherryredstars · 6 months ago

Note

PLSSSS GIVE US A SECOND PART OF RIBBON

I NEED IIIIIIIIT it gave me 🦋🦋🦋

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fingering, Makeshift "Collar", Fluffy Miguel

A/N: Enjoy, my love!!!

Unedited

Part 1

You won't even look at him.

He finds it amusing, tapping his fingers on the desk's surface between the two of you. He knows from your peripheral vision, even as you try to keep your attention on the professor, that you can see his wrist. You can see the pale pink silk contrasting against his rich skin and the black of his jacket. Your pretty pink bow. The same bow that happened to go missing once it was untied from your wrists.

The same bow that has slight discoloring at one end from where it soaked up your smooth arousal not even twenty-four hours ago.

He's wearing it like a prize, proud of what it symbolizes. It isn't just proof that he was able to slip between your pretty thighs, but proof that you own him. It marks him as your territory. Fuck if he doesn't look like a silly school boy, practically radiating from his spot besides you as he absentmindedly fidgets with the smooth material. He doesn't give a fuck about the teasing remarks he got from his friends when they had seen it, could care less about the jealous looks girls have been glaring at the bow. The only reaction he cares about is yours.

Your cheeks are flushed, big doe eyes fluttering as you avert your gaze from him. You squirm in your seat, shifting every now and then in a futile attempt to find a comfortable position that doesn't make you feel hot and stuffy under your pretty clothes. Some part of Miguel hopes all your movement is partially to blame on how sore you are between your legs, trying to distract yourself from not only his wrist, but also the aching hollowness he's left behind from the day before. He can picture it in his mind: you waking up with a cute wince as your inner thighs ached, a plump pout on your lips as you tried to find the bow from yesterday before deciding you don't have time to look for it and rushing out of the house with your hair loose. Or maybe it was a conscious decision, one made after recalling the way Miguel whined into your neck about how pretty your hair looked free and flowing around your shoulders and pillow.

He has to bite back a groan at the thought.

The class ends all too fast in his opinion as the hour and thirty minute lecture comes to a close and you begin to promptly shoot up and put your things away into your tote bag. Then he finds that the class couldn't end soon enough when you go to leave, your small hand barely wrapping around his decorated wrist as you pull him along. His tail is practically wagging as he lets you drag him out of the class, finding it amusing that despite your fast paced steps he has to walk slowly to not trample you. His heart is pounding horribly fast in his chest as you drag him around campus, his skin burning beneath the ribbon until you enter the school library and drag him to the very back.

He almost pouts when you drop his wrist, turning to him with your arms crossed over your chest. His eyes drop there quickly, admiring the way your breasts are pushed up before he looks back at your face. He's not particularly ashamed as you give him a knowing look, a smooth smirk tugging at his lips.

"That's mine."

You say it simply, stating the obvious as you point at the pink on his wrist. Miguel holds his arm up, a faux look of surprise on his face as he twists his hand around to get a good view of it.

"Huh, is it? I can see why you wear them. It looks pretty on me, don't y'think?"

His lips twitch as you let out an exaggerated sigh, your eyes rolling in annoyance. You hold your hand out expectantly, your shoes making a dull thumping noise as it taps against the carpeted flooring. Miguel simply stares at your hand, eyebrows furrowed as he slightly angles his wrist away from you. He's acting like a spoiled child, possessive over his favorite toy. Your eyes narrow, your hand dropping as you groan. You simply don't understand him, he hates you. Yet, he's clinging on to your precious bow.

"Miguel." You sigh, your hand coming up to play with your loose hair as a way to calm down. "You're giving people the wrong idea wearing my bow."

Miguel crosses his arms over his chest too, matching your stance. He straightens up, towering over you as he spreads his feet shoulder width apart.

"I think everyone is getting the right idea."

You quirk your brow shaking your head, "And what idea is that?"

Miguel's cheek flush, but his face stays the same. Serious and determined. He doesn't want to say it aloud. That's the purpose of the bow anyway: an unspoken, but obvious sign of who he belongs to. He doesn't want to make a fool of himself by saying it out loud. He's spent all this time silently pining after you, he's not ready to have it crash and burn at his feet. Especially not after he knows what it's like to have you. Not when the feel and taste of you are already implanted in his memory.

He shifts uneasily on his feet. "I think you already know."

You lean back onto the bookshelf behind you, lips puckered in a purse. Of course you already know, you just don't understand why. Surely he's only doing it for an ego boost, bragging about how he got you in his (well, technically your) bed despite the fact you dislike him. You rub at your temple, eyes closing shut as you feel an oncoming headache.

"Yeah, but you don't like me." You finally say, opening your eyes and giving him an unamused look. "Why would you want people to think we're a...thing?"

Miguel takes a step forward. Then another, and another, and another until the tips of his shoes are centimeters away from yours. He casts a shadow over you from how tall he is in comparison, blocking out the already scarce light. If you were anyone else, you would be terrified of him looming over you. But you know that he wouldn't hurt you, especially not after the way he handled you yesterday. All sweet praises and desperately soft caresses. Your mind goes a bit hazy recalling it, and you have to blink rapidly to vanish the thoughts. Even as your core grows hot.

Miguel's hand, the one with the ribbon, comes up to your face. His brows are furrowed, but they relax slightly when his fingers run through your hair, pushing a strand back behind your ear even as it comes loose and falls back into place. He's quite a moment, and it takes great effort to even your breaths to not reveal the frantic state of your heart right now. He's simply studying you, taking you in.

"Who said that?"

His words are hushed, warm as they fan over your face from how close he is. It reminds you of the voice he had used when he asked if he can take off your dress, his hands hovering on your back as he pressed kisses along your jaw. You can feel his lips ghosting your skin as the memory hits you, and a slight shiver runs up your spine.

"I- what?" You mumble out, your mind scrambling to collect itself.

"Who said I don't like you?"

He mocks the tone you used, and your mouth drops to open. An instinctive 'You did!' crawls up your throat, but it gets trapped between your vocal cords. Your brows furrow as your mind works to find a moment of proof that you're right. Trying to pick through all the teasing until you find a time where the words slipped out of his mouth. But, you can't. Your mouth snaps shut, averting your eyes to his ear as embarrassment stains your cheeks.

Miguel hums knowingly, bringing his wrists between the two of you. You both look down as his hand comes up to pull at the ends of the bow. The silk dents under the weight of his thumb and pointer finger as he tugs softly at it, watching as it unravels. You gulp, suddenly feeling nervous as Miguel looks at you, your eyes meeting his. You flinch in surprise when his thumb presses on our chin, slowly guiding your head up so he can see your face properly. It leaves your neck entirely exposed, and you tense when the soft silk brushes the nape of your neck. Miguel's eyes drop to look at what he's doing, hands slow and careful as he starts tying the bow. His fingers move skillfully as he crosses the two lengths together, flipping one over the other and forming two loops. He tugs until it's snug against your supple neck. It's loose enough that it doesn't choke you as you move your head, only applying enough pressure to let you know that it's there. It blends perfectly into your outfit, like it was always there.

He follows the length of one of the ends down, brushes over your clothed breast slightly before his hand skims your thigh. It makes you jolt, both of your hands grabbing at his shoulders in surprise. Your eyes shoot down, blushing at the obvious bulge in his pants, but your eyes trace the movements of his fingers. The rough pads float over your skin, dipping occasionally into your inner thighs before returning to the apex. You can't help but squirm, hands tightening on his shoulders and your thighs flex.

Miguel's eyes are hazy and half-lidded as he watches you. His fingers gain more and more confidence as he watches you become putty, slipping under your skirt until his pinkie skims the edge of your panties. It causes a little gasp to part from your lips, doe eyes wide as you look up to him. He can feel a hunger burning in his gut, driving him to cup is hand completely over your clothed cunt.

"Miguel!" You hiss, bucking into his hand. "W-what are you-?"

He coos down at you, shushing you lightly as he leans down. His forehead meets your shoulder, resting there despite the weird angle that already is causing an ache between his shoulder blades. Your hands slide into his hair, your eyes looking to the ceiling when he grinds the palm of his hand into your clit. A wave of deja vu washes over you as his lips plant small kisses to your skin, inaudible mumbles breathed against your skin as he huffs at your scent.

"Just wanna make y'feel good." You barely make out. "Show you how much I like ya."

You have to bite your lip to prevent a lewd sound from escaping when his fingers move your panties to the side, stroking up your soaked slit. Your hands tighten in Miguel's hair, pushing his face closer to your neck. A full-body shiver runs up your spine when his tongue licks at the skin just above the ribbon, dampening the edges of it and leaving a shiny line on your skin. You swear your knees are on the verge of buckling when he repeats the action, switching between licks and suckling around the pink silk. His fingers toy with your slick, gathering it on the tips of his fingers and massaging it along your clit before dipping them inside of you again.

Miguel eats up every single quiet noise you let out, mind echoing with the soft squelch of your cunt and the shaky moans you produce. He has to flex his thighs to physically prevent his knees from bending so he can hump your leg like a damn dog, his cock aching to swap places with his fingers. But he knows you wouldn't want to risk anyone finding the two of you in such a compromising position, and he isn't very keen with he idea of anyone but him seeing how pretty you look when waves of pleasure hit you. So instead, he focuses all the pent up need into curling his fingers into you. The soft sound of his palm hitting against your mound drives him nuts, feeling your slick drip from his fingers until it's practically pooling in his hand. He makes sure his fingers find and press into that one gummy spot that was you gasping, your legs shakily trying to close from how good it feels.

Miguel's eyes roll back as you let out a shaky whimper of his name, your legs locking as your body shakes. He can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers, squeezing them tight as you come undone. Miguel practically whines into your neck, his jaw unhinging until his teeth sink into your neck. He pulls away when your body goes slack, indents marking above and below the silk. His hand is sticky as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, the dim light reflecting on the glossy liquid. Your cheeks are beautifully flushed, hot pants leaving your parted lips. Miguel can't help but slip his two creamy fingers past your glossy lips, eyes hypnotized as you lazy suck at them with no complaints. Miguel has to pull them out fast, feeling his cock twitch dangerously in his pants. He shuts himself off from a groan by stuffing the fingers in his mouth instead, licking up the remaining slick and your saliva. It's heavenly, and he's not a bit embarrassed when he licks up his palm too.

You hum at the sight, a soft smile playing on your lips as you slouch forward, taking your turn by leaning on his shoulder. Miguel's clean hand cradles the back of your head, his lips pressing into your hair as you float down into the present. You sigh tiredly as you gently push away, Miguel's arms quickly wrapping around your waist so you don't go too far.

You definitely don't mind being wrapped up, not if it's by him.

Part 3

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p0orbaby · 6 months ago

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For a Good Time, Call… (4)

summary: as you grapple with your burgeoning feelings for Leah, a door opens to new possibilities and the potential for something more

warnings: SMUT 18+ strap on use (leah receiving), some dirty talk

a/n: last main part my guys. might treat you all to an epilogue

word count: 2.5k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | epilogue

It was early.

The sun had yet to fully rise over the rooftops, and the morning dew still hung heavily to leaves and blades of grass.

Dawn. A time of day you’ve seen more and more of as of late. You have a five foot seven blonde centre back to reluctantly thank for that.

As you blink blearily at the dim light filtering through the curtains, you couldn’t help but marvel at the ungodly hour Leah’s penchant for early mornings has dragged you into. The day was breaking, and there you were, already contemplating the meaning of life and the distinct absence of a warm body beside you.

With a resigned sigh, you acknowledge that Leah’s status as an early riser was, indeed, a force to be reckoned with. Who knew the early bird could be so… early? Catching worms doesn’t even sound that appealing anyway.

But hey, every sunrise brought with it the promise of new beginnings, right? Right! And if those beginnings involve a quest to locate your elusive bed companion, then so be it. Off you go, brave warrior, into the wild (downstairs), yonder!

As you trudge into the kitchen, you’re greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a freshly showered Williamson. “Well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living,” she teases, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

You don’t even have the energy to respond with words, so you grant her a grunt as you shuffle towards the cupboard where the mugs are kept.

Leah chuckles softly, her playful demeanor a stark contrast to your early morning grogginess. “Rough night, huh?” she quips, sidling up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist.

“Hmm, and I wonder whose fault that is” you respond through a yawn, reaching lazily out to grab your favorite mug from the it’s usual hiding spot. But it’s not there. Confusion flickers across your face as you glance around the kitchen, then over your shoulder at Leah.

“It’s in the dishwasher” she informs between the soft kisses she's placing along the length of your neck.

You groan petulantly at her words. Of course it is. Lucifer is alive and well, it seems.

Leah releases you from her embrace, but her smirk remains as she grabs her own mug and takes a sip of coffee. “So, any plans for today?” she asks, raising an eyebrow in questioning.

You take a moment to ponder, mentally running through the checklist of tasks that await you. “Well, my dear Watson, I probably need to head back home at some point,” you reply, stirring your incorrectly decanted coffee absentmindedly. “I believe I have a pressing appointment with the laundry basket and a certain fern in dire need of hydration”

“Want me to drop you?” She offers. “We can get lunch on the way back”

You grin, feeling her warmth and energy seeping into you, banishing the last remnants of sleepiness. “Hmm, tempting offer,” you muse, turning to face her and gently tracing your fingers along her jawline. “But we’ve got training tomorrow and I could do with some shut eye. Sans distractions”

Leah pouts playfully, her bottom lip jutting out in disappointment. “Oh, come on,” she whines, wrapping her arms around your waist again and pulling you closer. “Who needs sleep when you can have fun with me?”

“As much as I’d love to indulge in your company, baby,” you say, brushing a stray strand of damp hair from her face, “I really do need to catch up on some sleep. Plus, I’m already on thin ice with Jonas”

One late fee away from a game suspension thin. Hence the need to stay at your own house, away from the wandering hands and mouth of one Leah Catherine Williamson

The culprit sighs dramatically, but concedes nonetheless. “Fine,” she offers before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. “But promise you’ll make it up to me?”

You smile, unable to resist her. “Of course,” you reply, returning her kiss with equal fervor. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise”

Love is a funny little thing.

It hides purposely in the shadows when you go looking, and punches you square in the face when you least expect it.

Or confesses its feelings for you in the street and fucks you silly not an hour later.

It’s all semantics really.

“When did you know you loved grandma?”

“Hmm, let’s see. When she railed me with a strap and gave me a three day limp?”

Yeah, no. Not everything needs to be passed down through the generations. That’s what jewellery and hereditary illnesses are for.

“What's that face all about?” You’re dragged abruptly from your thoughts by a voice beside you. “You look like you’re in pain”

“I’m just thinking”

“Oh god, don’t strain yourself”

You roll your eyes, abandoning your act of loosening your boots. “What do you want, Beth?”

She leans back against the wall of her cubby, smirking as she tries and fails to play off like she isn’t about to start bothering you.

“Answers”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t bribe Win. She just likes me more because my personality is far superior”

“You’re a liar” she doubles down.

“Jesus Christ, I have better things to do than lie about a dog, Bethany. Get a life”

“Like what? Like the fact you’re hiding that you’re seeing someone?”

Your blood runs cold.

“Why on earth would you think that?”

“I don’t know” she leans forward in her seat. “Maybe because one doesn’t normally stroll in covered in love bites if they haven’t at least been sucking face”

“Oh”

Do you look panicked? You feel panicked. And embarrassed. Love bites? Jesus Christ Leah, you’ve been walking around all day with those on display.

“Yeah, oh. I thought we were friends, I feel betrayed!”

“I-, I didn’t…,” you stutter, unable to get your words out as she looks at you with wide eyes.

What are you supposed to say? That you were knuckle deep in her vice captain just over 24 hours ago? Absolutely fucking not!

“I told you to keep me posted about Bar Girl!” She exclaims as she leans back against the wall once more, obviously disappointed in your inability to keep up with her requirements for gossip.

All you can do is blink at her, mouth agape at the whiplash she’s just given you. What on earth is happening right now?

“Yeah, right. Urm sorry. Me and Bar Girl are back on” you mutter when you have a second to think.

It’s her lie, not yours, alright! Don’t you dare judge.

“I knew it!” she says, smirking like a cat who's got the cream. “You’ve been acting so weird”

Your head swivels. “Weird? What do you mean, weird?” You didn’t realise you were under surveillance.

“You know, like all smiley and energetic and nice. It’s almost like you’re in love with her or something”

Love.

There’s that word again. The word that’s has been dancing on the periphery of your thoughts for weeks now. You understand it can be hard to find someone who can make you orgasm as much as Leah can, but love? Already?

Subconsciously, you look across the room. Even through the bodies of your teammates filtering in from off the training ground it doesn’t take you long to spot who you’re searching for.

She looks good. Too good for someone who’s been sweating all afternoon. Your eyes drift down to where her top has ridden up from how she’s pulling her hair back. Further still to where she’s rolled her shorts up her thighs. Thighs you frequently find your head trapped between. Then back up, past the swaths of skin on show to find her eyes boring into you.

She holds your gaze and smirks when you start to blush. Heat spreads across your face, down your neck and up to the tips of your ears. You’re not embarrassed she’s caught you, not really. Sure she’ll tease you about it later, but deep down you know she likes you staring as much as you like looking at her.

Beth clears her throat.

“You good?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m good,” you stammer, hoping she doesn’t see through your flustered demeanor. But her knowing look tells you otherwise.

You trail wet kisses across her chest as her hips roll against yours. Once, twice, throwing her head back on the third.

Showered, fed, unsatisfied from a night spent at your own house, you’re sat up against the headboard of Leah’s bed pulling sounds from her only you have the privilege of hearing.

Your mouth closes around a pebbled nipple. Sucking then biting then licking to soothe the sting. Her hands fly to the back of your head when you pull away, a string of saliva keeping the two of you connected. So as per a silent request you give her second breast the same treatment. Tugging at it with your teeth. You’ll leave marks, but yours won’t be visible like the ones she so graciously gifted you.

With one final suck you pull your head back to look up at the woman you’re buried inside of, and you almost die at how pretty she is. Her chest is flushed pink and her eyes are blown as they look down on you with a hunger that almost makes you fall apart then and there. You don’t have a chance to though, because she leans in to rub her nose against your own, cupping your face and licking into your mouth.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmur against her when she pulls back to breathe. Your hands running up and down her naked back. “My gorgeous girl”

You lean up to kiss her again. Using your thumb to maneuver her face, nipping at her kiss bitten lips. Red and swollen and as sweet as can be.

When you shift below her, the new angle has her sighing into your mouth, so you place your hands on her hips and encourage her to work through it all herself. And she does, bringing her knees up, crouching as she slides up and down to find the perfect drag against her walls.

Her chest bounces with each movement and you feel your eyes glaze over at the sight of it. She leans back then, keeping herself balanced with her hands on your shins, opening up for you and giving you a show.

“Fuuuck”, she moans as your fingers find her clit. Expertly rubbing tight circles over it, bringing her closer and closer to an edge she is desperate to fall off of.

She’s almost there, you can see it in the way her abs tense and how her hips begin to stutter. So close to tumbling when you pull your hand away from her, wrapping her up in your arms and flipping her over.

She lets out an uncharacteristic squeal at the sudden change in position, and you can’t help but laugh a little.

This is absurd, you think. This is your life. Secretly fucking the England captain silly almost every chance you get. If only the others knew what she was really like when she wasn’t on the grass. No one would believe you. You don’t really want them to, this version of her is solely yours to enjoy.

You sit back on your haunches. Something you like to do when you have her in this position, you have come to learn. You’re very inquisitive. Curious even. You want to know what’s happening. What’s going on when you push in and out of her. What it looks like.

She’s exposed in the best way. Pretty and pink. Ready for whatever you give her. Whatever you're willing to let her take.

You watch eagerly as you push forwards. Mesmerised by how the silicone disappears and reappears with each thrust.

“You’re taking me so well” you tell her. “Are you going to cum for me?”

“Mhm” she hums as she bites down on her bottom lip.

“Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock?”

Your question is paired with a particularly hard thrust that has her reaching for you with desperate hands. You go, obviously, because you’re finding it increasingly difficult to deny her anything these days.

“I’m close” she manages to say through her laboured intakes of breath. Looking up at you with hooded eyes and a need that makes you feral.

You lean fully forward, bracketing her head between your arms as you claim her mouth and rut into her like it’s the last time you ever would. The bed creaks unforgivingly. She cries out before she bites into the hard muscle of your trap. You hold her when she stills then shakes and leaves crescent shaped nail marks in your skin.

Everything is perfect.

“I love you”

The words fall out of your mouth before you can even stop them. Lust induced word vomit that has you wincing.

“What?” Leah asks from underneath you, but you’re too embarrassed to even speak. “Y/N?”

You freeze, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air. You hadn’t meant to say it, not like this. You weren’t even sure if you were ready to.

Panic floods your veins as you scramble for something else to say, but the words stick in your throat. Leah’s confusion is obvious beneath you as she uses a warm hand to push at your chest to get you to look at her, searching your face for answers.

Finally, you manage to croak out, “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ but the damage is done. The silence stretches between you, filled only by the sound of your racing heartbeat.

At your words she untangles herself from your embrace, sliding out from beneath you and sitting on the edge of the bed. You watch her, your heart sinking as she puts distance between you. The air feels thick with uncertainty, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve ruined everything. Your mind races with self-doubt, the fear of rejection consuming you. You use what dignity you have left to unclip the harness around your waist.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely audible even in the heavy silence. Leah turns to look at you over her shoulder, her expression hard to read in the soft light of the evening's purple haze.

There’s a pause, a pregnant moment where the world seems to hold its breath. Waiting on your judgment. Preparing for heartbreak and pain the wish to turn back time.

But before you can say anything else, Leah turns fully to face you, her gaze steady. “I think… I think I might feel the same way,” she admits, her voice quiet. Quieter than you’ve ever heard her. But it doesn’t matter, your heart skips a beat, a rush of relief flooding through you in waves.

Without hesitation, you reach across the bed to take her hand. “Really?” you breathe, unable to hide the hope in your voice.

Leah nods, a shy smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Yeah,” she says softly. “I think I do”

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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dark-and-kawaii · 6 months ago

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ʚ♡ɞ New Life & Beginnings ʚ♡ɞ

- Rolan x F!Tav/Reader

- Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

- Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

✧˖°. Summary: Separate stories involving Rolan, Zevlor, and Raphael with their newborns.

✧˖°. Notes: I’m a sucker for these men being dads, and I just needed some softness… And a little angst for Zevlor

✦ Fluff | Prt 1. For Zevlor but not needed to read this | Hint of Angst For Zevlor & Rolan | Dadphael

Rolan

Rolan stood by the window, cradling a newborn in his arms. The child, swaddled in soft, faded blue linens, was a stark contrast to the crimson of Rolan's skin. His tail swayed gently back and forth in rhythm with the quiet hum he sang to soothe the infant.

It was a rare sight indeed. He never thought he’d hum to some infant, let alone his very own. But he figured this child, his child, deserved everything he never got to experience. His own childhood had been marked by absence, devoid of a loving mothers touch and a fathers protection…

Life had not always been kind to Rolan. As an orphaned tiefling with horns that curled back like the branches of a twisted tree and eyes the color of molten gold, he had wandered through his early years shrouded in solitude. No last name to claim, no family to return to after his day's adventures. That was until Cal and Lia found him.

Now, here he stands in a grand tower to call his own, his life transformed yet again. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of a new beginning. His gaze drifted towards the bundle of pillows on the floor where you, his beloved, rested deeply. The labor had been long and taxing, and Rolan despised the fact it happened here in the tower. Still though, a faint smile crossed his features as he whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

The infant, perhaps sensing the warmth of his father's gratitude, joined in on the thanks and cooed softly, a delicate sound that seemed to stitch the very air with joy and its very own magic. Rolan chuckled, a sound rich with love, and lowered his face to plant a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead.

But the tranquility of the moment was abruptly punctuated by a tiny sneeze from his little one. Reflexively, Rolan pulled back slightly, just in time to see a small flame burst forth from the baby’s nostrils... The flame caught the ends of Rolan’s hair, igniting them with a soft fizz.

Rolan's initial annoyance flickered across his face as quickly as the flame had caught his hair. He patted down the singed ends with a practiced hand, his expression melting into one of bewildered joy. The tiny sneeze had revealed something extraordinary about his child.

“By the stars,” Rolan murmured, his annoyance flickering away as quickly as it had ignited, replaced by a surge of excitement. “A sorcerer?… Or should I say, sorceress?” His voice was a mix of wonder and pride as he looked down at his daughter, whose big eyes blinked back at him, unaware of her fiery debut, “If you wish to master your skills you’ll need a good teacher. Thankfully you have everything you need- right here.”

Turning back towards the cozy corner where you slept, his tail continued swishing softly behind him. Carefully, almost tenderly, he nudged the sheet with the tip of his tail, pulling it up to tuck around you more securely. He then sat down beside you, his smile never wavering.

“I- I can't thank you enough,” Rolan reached for your hand, holding it gently between his, “Before you, my world was a tapestry with beautiful threads but no real picture.” he glanced down at yours and his daughter, “you've helped me start a family to call my own, besides Cal and Lia.”

His tail curled around, encircling both himself and his daughter as he continued to hold your hand.

Once an orphan, now a cherished father and partner. Rolan found himself at the center of his own growing family, with a sense of belonging he had never imagined possible.

Zevlor

His sleep was anything but peaceful… Zevlor tossed his head from side to side, his features twisting in torment. The sheets were crumpled beneath him, damp with sweat, as he muttered a sullen, “gods... no.” Each word was a whisper of despair, barely escaping his lips as the nightmare clenched its cold fingers around his mind.

In the throes of his dream, he found himself with blood stained hands as you lay lifeless in his arms. His hands tainted with your blood, his own sword impaled through your slightly distended abdomen… The nightmare depicted a grim scene where the influence of the Absolute had pushed him too far. By the time he realized his actions, it was tragically too late…

While holding your still form, Zevlor shut his eyes tightly, tear drops forming at their edges, desperately praying to any deity that might hear his cries, begging that this horror was not reality. Yet, upon reopening his eyes, the haunting image remained unchanged… There you were, still and devoid of life. His hand grazed your stomach, his head resting against yours, as he envisioned the life that might have been…

The tiefling bolted upright, shaken from the harrowing nightmare, his heartbeat pounding as the nightmarish visions clung to his mind. He extended his hand hesitantly, a wave of relief washing over him when he felt the comforting warmth of your sleeping figure beside him.

“It was only just a dream…” he whispered, though the words did little to calm his frayed nerves. Rolling onto his side, he pulled you close, his tail coiling around your leg to help keep you in place. He took a deep breath, inhaling your familiar scent as if to reassure himself of your presence. You stirred slightly but did not wake, for which he was grateful. He did not think he could speak of the horrors he'd seen. Far too afraid that you might have regrets keeping him at your side.

With a tilt of his head, Zevlor surveyed the room in search of the sole other treasure that held immense value in his existence. His infernal gaze landed on the crib where his beloved child peacefully slumbered. Silently he stood and peered into the crib, observing the delicate rhythm of his precious newborn’s tranquil breaths, finding solace in their steady respiration. Recollections of tender smiles and tiny grasping fingers alleviated the remnants of fear lingering in his thoughts.

How close he'd come to losing everything that day… When the absolute swayed him… Never again though. Never.

Quietly, Zevlor lifted the babe and returned to your side.

Holding his child close, the newborn's tiny heartbeat and warmth proof that the nightmare was not truly a reality.

“I vow to you, my child, and to your mother,” he whispered softly, his voice a tender rumble in the quiet of the night. “I will be your shield, your protector. No harm shall come to you as long as I draw breath.”

Zevlor's gaze shifted from the baby back to you. The sight of you both, safe and sound, was truly a balm to his troubled soul. Carefully, he adjusted his child in his arms, ensuring they were snug and secure. With a deep, steadying breath, he allowed himself a moment to simply be present, soaking in the quiet joy of fatherhood and being your lover. The fears of his nightmare seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet confidence borne of love and duty.

As the night deepened, Zevlor continued to watch over his little family. Every so often, he would gently touch the baby's cheek or brush a soft kiss against your forehead. These small acts reaffirming himself that this comforting reality was indeed true, not merely an illusion.

Raphael

In your room where shadows danced with the dim candlelight, all was silent except for your gentle breaths as you slept soundly. The bed, large and ornate, cradled not only your dreams but also a newborn, wrapped in delicate linens embroidered with gold stitches. You, with a serene expression, appeared as a portrait of peace as you held your infant close to your heart.

It was always around this time that the air shifted subtly, a warmth flooding the room, a sharp scent of sulfur and cherries mingling with your very own fragrance. From the darker corners of the room emerged a figure, tall and imposing, wrapped in fine silks to match the hells of which he was born from.

As Raphael approached the bed, his movements were silent, almost reverent. His fingers, warm and soft, traced a path up your exposed arm, stopping just short of your face. For a moment, he merely stood, his gaze shifting between you and the child nestled within your arms. A rare, tender expression softened the harsh lines of his face.

With the care of one who handles precious artifacts, Raphael gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was surprisingly tender, a contrast to his usual character. “Such a sleepy little mouse,” he murmured with an affectionate tone, one that seemed unfamiliar on his lips, “how quaint.”

Carefully, he lifted the infant from your embrace. The baby, undisturbed, continued to sleep, her tiny chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm. Raphael seated himself on the edge of the bed, ensuring every movement was calculated and silent, not to disturb the peaceful slumber of the infant's mother, you.

Holding the child merely inches from him, he looked at her with a complex mixture of emotions; affection, pride, perhaps even a hint of fear. His eyes, usually so piercing and cold, warmed as they rested on the child's placid face.

Raphael's attention was momentarily drawn to the balcony where a pseudo dragon perched, its eyes fixed on him with an unblinking gaze. The creature, a guardian by nature, watched with a protective intensity, ready to act should it perceive any threat to the child.

Turning his gaze back to the infant, Raphael spoke softly, his voice a whisper that carried weight and promise, “When she is grown, she will rule the nine hells with me.” The declaration was not just a statement of future events; it was a father's vow, a ruler's plan, “the perfect heir.” His daughter, this innocent soul, was not just any infant; she was his daughter, destined to share his ruling over the realms of damnation.

The room remained silent, the only sound the occasional flutter of the pseudo dragon's wings and the steady breathing of you and his child. Raphael continued to hold his daughter, his mind undoubtedly racing with plans and dreams of what was to come. For now, however, this moment was tender, a father bonding with his daughter, their future sprawling before them like the starlit sky outside the balcony.

#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 & 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓝𝓮𝔀𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓩𝓮𝓿𝓵𝓸𝓻 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓡𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓢𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓡𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 ⋆˙⟡♡#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 Zevlor #Rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3 #raphael bg3 x reader #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader

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