#This man Does Not know how to text so something was very wrong | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonstruckme · 1 month ago

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Hello icon ✨Could we have a poly!wolfstar x reader where she thinks that they are mad at her for something (or they could actually be a bit miffed) and it just a bit of hurt comfort with cuddles and kisses at the end😔🙏🏻

Thank you for requesting <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re being weird.

The three of you are doing a puzzle, which usually captivates your attention but never Sirius’, which is how he’s so very aware of how little attention you’re actually paying to the puzzle. You keep glancing at Sirius, at Remus, like you’re nervous about something. You’ve been like this all day. It’s in and out, sometimes waning like you’ve forgotten to be anything but normal, but Sirius has a keen gauge for tension. He can sense it every time it ticks back up.

You’re pretending to look for sky pieces, though Sirius suspects you forgot what color the sky in your puzzle was a while ago. He feels like you’re building to something, and it makes his skin itch. Remus is too absorbed in his tree bark pieces to notice—the nerd—so it’s up to Sirius to get it out of you. Luckily, James has always said that Sirius is a master of tact.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You were halfway to sneaking another glance at him, and you react as though you’ve been struck, jumping a little where you sit on the rug by the coffee table. “What? Nothing.”

“Well, that was very believable.” Sirius smiles to take some of the bite out of it. “Come on, you have me on the edge of my seat. What’s got you all worked up?”

“I am not worked up,” you insist, though your expression says otherwise.

Remus appears confused, but he notices your guilty eyes as well. “What’s happening?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you say again.

“Clearly something,” Sirius counters.

Your lips press together, corners downturnt. You’re not looking at either of them.

“Hey.” Sirius softens his voice. “What is it? You’re freaking me out, babe.”

This only seems to distress you further. “I wanted you not to freak out,” you say.

“Sweetheart, about what?” Now Remus sounds worried too, though the look he gives you is more patient than anything Sirius could ever manage. He ducks his head to catch your gaze.

After a moment of looking at him, your shoulders droop. “Okay.” Your voice has quieted. “Just a second.”

Sirius’ anxiety ratchets as you stand, going down the hall towards your room.

“Why does it feel like she’s going to bring us back a school report?” he murmurs to Remus.

Remus shakes his head, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “No idea.”

When you return, it is with papers, though Sirius doesn’t at first know what they are.

“This came this morning,” you say in that same resigned voice, laying them down on the coffee table as you sit back down next to Sirius.

With Sirius and Remus on opposite sides they can’t both read the text at once, and Remus picks them up first. Sirius spots you bringing your hand to your mouth and reaches for it silently, drawing it away before you can start chewing your fingernails. Your nervousness is making him nervous. He pushes his thumb up the lines of your palm.

“Oh,” Remus hums.

“Remus,” Sirius says, in a tone that clearly communicates if somebody doesn’t start talking I’m going to throw a wobbly.

“It’s the gas bill,” says Remus. He’s making his old man face, where he leans away slightly and squints like he needs glasses. Ordinarily Sirius would tease him for it, but he’s not in the mood. “Bit high.”

“I’m sorry,” you say in a small voice.

Sirius looks at you. Frowning, your hand still trapped in his. “Why are you sorry?”

“Is this…” One glance at Remus, and it’s clear Sirius is now the one lagging in understanding. “Is this because you left the oven on?”

Your expression says enough.

Oh, well. In fairness, Sirius had thrown a bit of a wobbly over that.

It was weeks ago. You made cookies just before bed. They were warm, gooey, the perfect precursor to sleep and an excellent excuse, in Sirius’ opinion, to trade chocolate-flavored kisses until all three of you were snoozing on your pillows. It hadn’t been until he and Remus were making breakfast the next morning that Remus smelled the gas. You’d come out of the bedroom, confused, to find them throwing open windows and calling the fire department for advice. Your gas oven had been left on all night.

You felt awful. Your boyfriends gave you an appropriate amount of shit for it, but it was only thoughtless, not malicious. Your apartment hadn’t blown up. The smell drifted away within a few minutes, and in all honesty Sirius was left feeling a bit bad that what began as you trying to make them all happy had resulted in you being so thoroughly chastised. But it had been let go.

Until now, evidently.

“I can pay it,” you offer meekly. “The difference, or all of it.”

Remus sighs, rubbing his brow. “Dove…”

“Let me see that.” Sirius reaches with the hand not holding yours. Remus gives it to him. He finds the total quickly. “This isn’t even that high.”

Okay, it’s a bit high. But genuinely, Sirius was expecting worse.

“It’s my fault,” you mumble.

“Baby, is this what you’re all wound up about?” Sirius sets the papers down to gawk at you. “Really? I thought something happened.”

You’re shrinking, your hand tense in his. “Something did happen.”

“Yeah, a whole month ago!”

“Sirius,” Remus murmurs, in a tone Sirius knows to mean you’re not helping. He asks you, “Did you think we would be angry with you?”

Spiderweb cracks spread through your expression. Your mouth wobbles.

“Oh, you absolute moron.” Sirius grabs for you with both hands, hauling you into his lap.

“Pads.”

“You ridiculous, sweet idiot.” He kisses your head. Once, twice, three times. “Why’d you have to go and get all worked up? You got me worked up, silly thing.”

“I’m sorry,” you say weakly.

“Alright, that’s enough apologizing,” Remus says gently. Underneath the coffee table, a socked foot bumps into Sirius’ leg before presumably finding yours. Sirius grins. Remus is tactile in the oddest ways sometimes. Like a cat.

He loves you both so very much. God, you really had him going. He feels liable to squeeze the life out of you.

He satiates the urge by kissing you all over your face until you look significantly less upset. You look at Sirius with tentative relief, the beginnings of a smile curled up in the corner of your mouth.

He’s about to ask you again how you could be so stupid, but Remus speaks first. Probably for the best.

“It really won’t be so much more for each of us once we split it,” he says, looking again at the bill.

That guilty look is back on your face. Sirius gives you a squeeze in hopes of banishing it. “I can get it,” you say. “It wouldn’t be there if I hadn’t been so…if I hadn’t left the oven on.”

“You don’t need to punish yourself,” Remus tells you. “It’s all right.”

You fidget. “I feel like you should probably be angrier with me.”

“We already have been angry with you,” Sirius points out. “We got over it. Time to move on, babe.”

“It was a mistake.” Remus’ gaze is steady. Knowing. “It was scary, but it happens. You shouldn’t be angry at yourself for us, lovely.”

You look to be gnawing the inside of your lip. “Are you sure?” you ask.

Sirius scoffs. “I can be angry without anyone’s help, thank you.” Then, at your wary look, “But I’m not angry about this.”

Slowly, the tension Sirius has been sensing seeps out of you. You relax in a way you haven’t all day long.

Remus notices, too. “Sweetheart,” he sighs, in a soft, fond voice. “Talk to us next time, okay?”

“I know, sorry.” You give him a sheepish look. “I was going to. I just really thought you’d be upset.”

“Yeah, well.” Sirius kisses your head, sharing an eye roll with Remus. “Shows what you know.”

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lavilavs · 19 days ago

Text

୨୧ ── Ho, who is you?

› Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

› Scenario: Dick's beloved wife comes home just in time. But something is different—Babe, why are you dressed as me?

› Notes: English is not my first language. + Reblogs and likes are very appreciated! + Slightly suggestive!

"Baby? I'm home!" Dick hears you enter your shared home. You were just in time! He just got back from a mission. He hasn't even taken off his suit yet.

A big smile adorned his face just by hearing your voice. His feet excitedly left the comfort of the pillows beneath them to stand up and greet you by the door. But something's different. Your voice was deeper than it usually was. That's odd.

He took slow steps towards the door—him being lost in his thoughts made him slower. If he recalled correctly, didn't you say you were going out for a while to refresh your thoughts? Being a writer meant writer's block after all. And what more could you need except a good stroll when it was bright and sunny outside?

Dick looked at the time. It was barely even 4:00 o'clock, and he swears that you left the house at least 15 minutes ago. You texted him at 3:45 P.M.

The problem is��you, his wife of three years, wouldn't take a quick walk when you had writer's block. You'll take at least 20 minutes of walking in the park to reach your favorite spot and spend 10 minutes dozing off beneath the tree you used to hang out with Dick back in college. That's how well he knew you.

So, if his wife won't be coming home for another 15 minutes, who was inside their house? Was it a new enemy who could mimic voices? If it was, it could explain the deep voice anomaly. He knows his dear wifey had a higher octave than whatever it is that he heard.

His escrima sticks were already in his hands, ready to strike at the intruder. The thump of someone's boots on their floor was his sign to strike.

"What the fuck?!" The voice imitator cursed at him.

Dick clicked his tongue in realization that he didn't hit flesh. It hit something as hard as his escrima. They both glared at each other—wait—is that you wearing a Nightwing suit? Wow, you even had escrimas like him.

"Baby?!"

"Babe?!"

Dick was surprised to see you wear a suit like his. Did you lie about taking a stroll and actually went to Alfred to make you a suit like his? Aw, that's cute. Dick feels himself melt at your romanticism.

"Wow, Baby, you made a suit of your own? It suits you." You feel his muscles through his suit. When did your baby get this muscular?

"It's cute that you got Alfred to make you a spare suit."

Huh?

HUUUUH?

You both look at each other quizically, giving a look that accuses the other of being wrong. Just what were the two of you saying at this point? You push yourself away from 'Dick' and walk back to take a wider look at the man in front of you.

His muscles were more defined.

You would know since you just saw him this morning.

Dick narrows his eyes at you. Slightly muscular build, deeper voice... Other than that, you were the same. Well, except for the fact that you're wearing a suit like his.

"Babe, quit with the jokes." He grips your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Damn, what did you do during that 15-minute walk? How are you so toned? His fingers squeeze your waist, mesmerized at the way it feels harder than its usual softness. Dick presses his lips against your jaw. Good joke, but he can't deny the way he feels to see you in this suit.

"You look as good as me, Babe. You're a pretty version of Nightwing." He smiles against your skin. That makes you push him off you.

"What do you mean, pretty version of Nightwing? There is only one Nightwing, and it's me." You glare at Dick. You don't know what's going on with your husband, but his behavior is annoying you. Why is he acting like he doesn't know you? Does that mean, in those 3 years that you've spent as husband and wife, he still doesn't know you that well?

"Wait, wait, wait—that can't be because I'm Nightwing, honey." He cowers under your glare. Hands flying up defensively.

A silence envelops both of you, giving you both time to connect the pieces.

The looks on your faces were comical when you both figured it out.

You are not each other's Nightwing. Both of you are. Then that means your counterparts must be together right now.

"I bet they're already sharing story ideas with one another." You facepalm.

A smile appears on your lips as you think back to your Dick happily yapping with your writer counterpart.

"You think it's another one-sided love story?" Dick asks while laughing.

You both share a look that says, "Definitely," and laugh at the cute interaction between your lovers.

Dick immediately makes way for you to the couch, curtly bowing at you as you plop down to the familiar, cozy sofa that you guys bought with your first paycheck. It was good to see that this world's Dick is as charming as your own.

You were Dick's female counterpart but still your own person, and vice versa. The female Nightwing and her writer husband are with the male Nightwing and his writer wife. What a coincidence!

It's a mystery how this happened, though. A moment ago you were just sleeping beneath your special tree, and all of a sudden, your Dick Grayson has changed completely. Could it be...?

"Bab—ah, no, Dick, did she or, uh—did I go out for a stroll?" you ask with a tentative glance.

By your question alone, Dick could already picture what you were thinking of. He nods and thinks. If that's how you switched, then could it also be the way to switch back?

But... Not now, you wanted to learn more of this version of you and Dick.

As soon as he opened his mouth to ask another set of questions, you both knew this was going to be a long night. It went on and on until you both fell asleep on the couch. Dick's head slumped against your shoulder.

He let out a yelp when he felt his head slipping from you, and his body followed after. Dick fell on the ground with a loud thud, waking you up. With half-lidded eyes, Dick could still look clearly with one eye. The familiar colors of black and blue that were beside him were gone and instead replaced by your usual civilian colors.

Dick's eyes shot wide open at your return. "Babe, I missed you!" Your face is instantly pampered with his pecks. You groggily push him away, still not in your right mind. His hands slip down to your waist and squeeze there, tickling you in the process, fully waking you up.

He groans, "I missed your softness here..." Dick whispers in your ear. You chuckle in response.

Dick missed the way your fingers would thread through his hair like this. Apparently, you were the one receiving this in your counterpart's world, as per what your counterpart said to him earlier. Dick, being the gentleman that he is, offered his fingers to her.

"Yeah! Your counterpart offered it to me as well—ugh, Dick, how could you not tell me how it feels after all this time?" You pout at him.

Dick laughs and pulls you closer. "Wanna know what else I learned?" you hum in response.

He bites your earlobe and smirks against it. "Our kinks are reversed as well."

Your eyes shot wide open at the discovery.

Ah, so in their worlds, 'Nightwing' will always be the dominant one.

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 4 months ago

Text

Wrong move | The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: He thought you were in love with him....maybe he needs to show you how much you need him.

Warnings: SFW - Possessive!Salesman - Obsessive!Salesman - Controling!Salesman - Red flag basically - Unhealthy relationship - Power imbalance - DARK!Salesman - grammar mistakes -

Note: Not part of "Home Bliss", this is a different universe.

"No"

These were the words that have been in the Salesman's mind for a week now. His aparment, a place he used to love coming to since you were here waiting for him now felt like a empy box. Walls too grey to look at, too dull. The food did not have teaste and his bed felt too big.

When did things go wrong ? He did everything right.

Saw you one day at the local park, got enamoured by you. Followed you around, got to know your schendelure so he could see you from afar. Was able to hack your phone to know every last detail. Your social media were poorly secured. He got to know you like he knew his own skin, when he finally did approach you, you were already his.

And after two years, two years of beautiful moments together, perfectly crafted by him, each one calculated and made so you would fall more and more for him. He got you to move in with him, he was accepted by your friends, your family loved him, and saw him like part of it.

He was sure, centrain that this was the right moment. The perfect one. This was your favorite season, favorite month, perfect hour of the day and a well secured place so you would not feel pressure over it.

Some part of him wanted you to come to him willing.

But your words were marked liked fire. The exchange and after events lived rent free inside his head.

How he had managed to keep his facade he has no idea. The aparment (after you refused to get back) was the one that suffered his rage. All the expensive forniture was destroyed by him, some walls had blood by how much he had punched them.

He was a mess, a disaster. How could yo do it ? After everything? Weren't you two the perfect match ?

A ding from his phone, the ding he had set just for you sounded.

"Sorry, I think its better if we stop seeing each other. I will pass to get my things soon"

The phone went flying. Were you breaking up with him by text ? When he had read all the exchange with your friends ? Like how scared you were and how fast it felt. Why were you doing this?

And your doubts ? He never saw them, you seemed content by his side. And loved him like that.

But your personal diary on your phone said different. You felt trapped, like he knew too much, like he was not being honest.

Maybe he should have been more...severe? Showing you just how bad he could be, maybe he let your leash go too large and now he was paying the consequences.

But would he give up ? No. After all you were just confused, and scared, you just needed a reminder of how much you needed him. How he could be the only one for you.

He took the phone back, the screen broke but other functions working. He ignored your message and instead went to his contacts. He had many friends, friends that could ruin you completly.

"I need a favor"

Leaving him was the start of your nightmare.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

At first the relationship was fine. How does peopel put it ? Honeymoon? Well you two had it for very long.

He was the man any woman could ask for, gentle, caring, doting, never forgot a special date. And would get your favorite things.

But something was off. His eyes, the same dark eyes that sparked when he saw you, these eyes would change to sharp and cold around others. You felt like he was always on you, even when being away for work, he would just know when to send you a message or call you.

Would meet you randomly on the streets, knew when you wanted to do something even when you never mentioned it.

Something was wrong. Your gut told you to run from him but you did not know how. After all on the eyes of everyone he was perfect.

Then he asked to marry you, and you saw your chance. You could say you got scared and that things just did not work out after it.

But it did not go that way.

Once you had got your things from his aparment your Boss called, he had said how sorry he was but the company was cutting off some employees and you were one of them.

Your work, your dream work. The one you had passed years preparing yourself, tears and blood for it. The one that made your parents proud.

Ripped out from you with one call.

Then it came your social circle. Slowly your Friends stopped meeting with you, some removed you from their social media, and some blocked your number. You never got to know what was wrong, or what you did.

And later your parents, it was a shame losing your job, it was worse not being able to get another one.

"Sorry we are looking for something different"

"Your solicitude was read but right now we need another thing"

"We will call you"

Rent became impossible, and so you had to move back with them. Your mother was not happy, telling you how much of a failure you were, how your brother was making money overseas and how your sister had made a family.

Your father did not even look at you. Like he felt guilty, not even the company he used to work for would take you in.

Your days became a circle of sending out curriculums and doing your best to keep your parents happy even when you knew they did not want you there.

And some days you would go to the park and cry. Not caring if others saw you, your life was ruined, you had nothing. Maybe....maybe if you had said yes....

Checking your phone you saw the contacts, mom, dad, brother, sister and him. You were sure you had removed his number but it kept coming back. Maybe you were getting sick because of the stress. Your finger went over the call buttom till you finally hitted it.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

He never wanted to see you like this, so broken, so out of life. Maybe he had insolated you too much. Let some lies to your Friends and mother that grew and now they hated you. Your father was a rough one, he had used some...other methods for him. But did coperate at the end.

"You dont seem so good" Were his first words and you looked down at your lap.

"Im sorry for have called you.., after everything"

"Dont say anything. I was glad I got your call. I wanted to know how you were doing" He lied, he knew you were miserable.

Only him could fix it.

"I have...well things have been bad" You addmited "I dont want to burden you with it, maybe this was a mistake"

You went to get up and leave but a firm grip on your hand stopped you. His eyes, cold and sharp like he was seeing his prey.

You, you were his prey.

"Sit" It was an order not a request "Lets talk for a bit more, maybe I can help you, for the old times"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Are you sure? (Y/N) you can still go back and say no" Your fathers voice cut off.

You were wearing a beautiful weeding dress, outside from a ceremenoy to take place.

"Dad...you have been saying that since I told mom and you that I was getting married. This is good, we actually made up and I even got my work back, with double pay. Was not what you wanted for me?"

Your father did not respond. He still remembers that night. The night your "perfect" boyfriend appear. When he told him how your life would be so bad you would be wishing you were gone.

"And if thats not enoguh, maybe leaving her limp like you will do the trick"

He had tried for many months to hide his injury, the injury that man had caused him and promised to do the same to you.

"Dad? Its your leg hurting? You are crying"

"No dear, im fine. A little emotional to see you go"

When the doors opened and he walked you in and saw the monster you were going to marry he felt like dying there. When he gave you to him he could see it, he was liking his pain.

"I will take good care of her" Were his only words, and by the time his eyes were on you it had changed.

Love? Obsession ? A twisted sense of care ? No one could tell, no one dared to ask.

Him ? He was just happy you finally accepted what was best for you.

Him, he was the best for you.

"Till death do us apart"

Not even death would be able to separate you from him.

#squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #squid game x reader #the salesman x reader #the recruiter x reader

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hencheri · 4 months ago

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make you mine

18+ mdni.

You've never suspected the evil would have taken the form of Jay, a hot guy from your college, but when he takes interest in you, you rapidly discover the secret he's been hiding.

pairing: jock!jay x fem!reader

wc: 5.7k

warnings: graphic description of gore (mention of blood & injuries), dubcon, implied inexperienced!reader, unprotected sex, jay's kinda mean but hey he's evil so ain't my fault lol.

a.n.: jennifer's body au cause why not. old fic from an old blog, but it's still my fav of all time <3

Jay thinks he never felt that much pain in his whole entire life. It’s like his soul is screaming from the inside out, as if someone stabbed him in the stomach, tearing his guts apart.

Oh, but that’s what actually happened…

How can he still be alive? He swears he was dead seconds ago, losing liters of blood through the cut in his stomach. But he’s very much conscious right now, getting out of the woods he was brutally murdered in.

Well, is it still even murder if he survived?

It doesn’t matter anymore anyway. All he can think about at this moment is how hungry he is. He would devour anything he can put his hand on, and god, why does the person on the other side of the street look so… edible?

He feels the dried blood that dripped from his mouth stick to his skin as his hands are stained in the same red substance, holding his stomach where, surprisingly, he is no longer bleeding from.The pain is atrocious, but he needs to fucking eat, and so he approaches the person faster.

The moment they notice him, their eyes grow bigger and they let out a strident scream, but Jay gives them no time to leave.

He doesn’t know what in the hell possesses him to jump on that poor human, his teeth becoming sharper than they ever were, shredding their neck in pieces, their screams slowly dying down as he eats like a starved animal.

The fresh blood is coating the dried layer on his chin. He feels like an uncontrollable beast, and he’s literally acting like one right now. No one with a right mind would have ever done this… but it’s like he isn’t a human.

He was revived from the dead, there’s nothing human about him anymore. Nothing.

He has an idea as to why this happened.

Those girls — that girl band who he seemed so enthralled by — sacrificed him, and for what…? For fame? For money? Whatever it is, they killed the wrong person because obviously the sacrifice didn’t fucking work. He’s still very much alive.

He’s cursed now, that’s for sure. Or whatever the hell is happening to him.

He looks down at his victim; it’s a man.

He suddenly feels nauseous, vomiting what he had so far swallowed. A dark liquid comes out of his mouth, and god, it’s even more painful than the cut in his stomach.

He feels disgusted by himself — why isn’t he full? Eating felt so good, considering how starved he was, but it’s like he ate something … expired.

What’s wrong with him… He ate someone’s guts, of course it doesn’t taste like a 5 stars meal. Then why did his instinct tell him to do that?

That’s fucked up.

The next few days are horrible for Jay.

After that night, he doesn’t eat anything except for raw chicken and other types of meat that are just not enough to satiate him. It doesn't taste good either.

He lays in bed most of the time, having no energy, skipping the gym and his practices, which he usually never does. He gets texts from his friends, but he doesn’t bother to check his phone.

It’s on Sunday night that he decides to leave his bed, going to look at himself in the mirror. He has big dark circles under his eyes — not particularly flattering. He’s still very hungry, but none of the food in his fridge makes him want to eat.

There’s one thing he’d want, though…

It’s when he receives a text from a specific person that he knows what to do.

iseul: hey, jay. wanna study together for the finals?

—-

“Hey, man,” Jay’s teammate, Jungwon, greets him. “Heard about Hana? That’s fucked up,” he says, walking beside his friend. “And right after Iseul… My parents refuse my sister to go out alone now.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Jay replies, not really caring, but still listening.

It’s not like anybody liked Hana before, he doesn’t understand why everybody suddenly cares now that she’s dead. She needed to die to finally have some importance. How sad.

She wasn’t that good of a laid either, so really, what’s the matter? Sure, it’s tragic, but who’s going to miss her besides her family.

“Can’t be an animal at this point,” his teammate says under his breath, “Do you wanna know what I’m thinking?”

Not really…

“What?”

“I’m thinking it’s gotta be some ‘Jack the Ripper’ kinda guy. You know those freaks who wanna be the modern this or that.”

Kind of offensive…

Jay rolls his eyes without Jungwon noticing, snickering at his words.

“The police’s saying it’s a bear or some shit,” Jay explains, reaching his class. “That’s more believable than your ‘modern Jack the Ripper’.” He mimics quotes with his fingers, stopping in front of the classroom.

Jungwon still doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s not Jay’s job to make him less stupid. He can believe what he wants, he’s not an investigator even though he thinks he is.

“See you at practice, alright?”

“Yeah, later, man.”

Jay has never been very attentive in class. He doesn’t care about a lot of things and college is one of them. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for his parents and their high expectations of him.

He’s looking outside the windows, noticing the grey clouds, heavy rain pouring from the sky. A flash of lighting breaks through the sky, hearing the thunder a second after.

Nobody seems attentive either, all interested in the thunderstorm that’s starting. It might be the strongest they’ve seen in a couple of years.

“Crap,” the teacher says as the electricity is cut off, surely because of the thunder.

Girls are gasping, some of them whispering to each other about how creepy the situation is while the professor waits for the power to get back on.

Jay’s phone lights up as he gets a new notification. He takes a look, reading the text he just received.

jungwon: practice’s canceled..

Great, Jay thinks. He really needed to get some steam off, but it won’t happen today.

“Sir!” A girl raises her hand, catching the attention of the professor. “All classes got canceled. Can we leave? Apparently the power isn’t coming back for a few hours.”

The professor seems quite disappointed, but he lets everyone go back home, seeing no point in staying if he can’t teach.

While exiting the classroom, Jay gets bumped into by someone. He doesn’t move much, but the person drops their books on the floor, bending down to pick them up hurriedly.

“Shit… Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you apologize, standing back up when you have all of your books in your arms.

“It’s fine,” Jay mumbles and you give him a straight smile.

He recognizes you from highschool, a girl he never talked to, but who he knew the name of. Then, he watches you walking away for a short moment, eyeing the curves of your silhouette, memorizing it.

—-

You’re in the cafeteria, sitting with your friends, waiting for about a good 30 minutes now. The storm from yesterday is still ongoing, and the power is very unstable, cutting off every now and then.

The finals are scheduled for today and the administration told the students to come regardless of the storm, thinking it would stop during the night. So you’re waiting to be sent to the gym where the exams are usually taking place, but seeing the electricity goes off and comes back every second, it isn’t the best time to start an exam.

People are free to go, it’s college after all, but most of the students are staying in case a decision is made. You know you wouldn’t want to skip your exam, that’s why you’re staying, even though it’s starting to get really long.

No murder has happened since the beginning of the storm, confirming the police suspicions that it might be a wild animal doing this. A bear wouldn’t come out during a thunderstorm, hence why no bodies have been found or anyone going missing.

You don’t really know what to think of the whole thing. You never really experienced anything of the sort before, only ever seen it in the news, taking place in a far away city. Now, it’s really different to be a witness of it.

You don’t understand how an animal would do such a thing, especially since they aren’t known to attack humans, or… eat them. But everybody is kind of desperate to find a culprit.

As you’re looking through your notes, you notice that you’re missing a piece of information that you absolutely need to know for your test. You would ask your friends, but none of them are in this class with you. Plus, you forgot your book so the only solution would be to go to the library.

The place is lit up by candles and oil lamps. The power doesn’t seem to have come back here either.

The librarian isn’t even here, so you can’t ask her for directions, which would be really useful, but you’ll do without. You go to the biology section and start searching for the book you need. It takes you some time, carefully looking through the shelves until you notice an older edition of the book. You hope what you need is in there.

You start flipping the pages to the right chapter, but you jump out of surprise and drop the book to the floor at the sound of someone else’s voice.

“Aren’t you supposed to attend your exam?”

It’s the guy you bumped into yesterday; Jay.

What’s weird is that you didn’t hear him at all, you could have sworn you were alone in the library. You suppose he’s a really quiet walker.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out, furrowing your brows. You bend down to pick up the book, his eyes following your movements closely. “Just had to come here for this,” you say and show the object in question in your hand. “What about you?”

He leans on the shelves beside him.

“Didn’t feel like wasting my time back there,” he explains and you nod, not really sure what he wants exactly… It’s not like you’re friends or anything.

You can’t see much of him with the low lighting in the library, but you still catch on the way he’s looking at you intently. It makes you slightly uncomfortable, considering he’s towering over you with all his height. And Jay is very tall compared to you.

“Is- Is there something else you wanted to ask me…?” You manage to let out, voice a bit shaky and uneasy.

“Are you scared?” he asks casually.

He steps closer to you, and you don’t understand why you don’t step back. It’s like you don’t dare.

“What?”

“The storm. Pretty intense, right?”

Is he really interested to know if you’re scared of storms or is he playing with you? Why would he even play with you in the first place, that’s what you wonder.

His behaviour really confuses you. It’s true that you don’t know him, but he isn’t the type of guy to just… creep girls out. Maybe it’s not his intention though?

“Oh, yeah… it’s nothing I've ever seen before,” you confess in a small voice.

“Me neither,” Jay replies.

You hold the book against you tighter like it’s some sort of protection, or just as emotional support. You don’t know what’s up with him, but it has you feeling some type of way…

You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter as he gets even closer, trapping you between him and the bookshelves.

Yes, you’re scared, but not of the storm… of him.

And… there’s a part of you that likes it — likes the attention he gives you, the way his dark eyes look at your body. His gaze makes you think of a carnivore, a predator.

You’re the food he was looking for.

“It’s really loud, isn’t it?” he observes. “I wonder… if you had to scream, would anybody hear you?”

That startles you right away.

“Jay-” Saying his name seems to catch his attention, his eyes looking directly into yours. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t break eye contact, and you’re destabilized by how long he can hold your gaze, a shiver running down your spine, making the hair on your arms stand up.

It’s only to whisper in your ear that his eyes leave yours.

“Stop what exactly?”

His hot breath hits the side of your neck, hearing your heart pounding in your chest, the knot in your stomach becoming heavier and heavier. Your hands clasp around your book, holding onto it for dear life as you gulp down the excess of saliva in your mouth.

You scrunch your eyes shut when you feel his hands on your hips, fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. Your core heats up, blood rushing to your cheeks.

“What do you want?” You breathe out, opening your eyes when Jay faces you again.

He takes the book from you, putting it back onto the shelves, not caring if it’s the wrong placement.

“Just a little bit of fun,” he answers, “wouldn’t you like that, hm?” He slips his index finger under the band of your skirt then, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimetres away from yours. “I know girls like you are too shy to ask for it… So I’m making the first move.”

“No, I-” You begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.

“It’s fine, I’m gonna take the lead. You don’t have to worry about anything, pretty,” he tells you, tilting his head and pressing a light kiss to your lips. Surprisingly, you reciprocate it. He pulls his hand away from your skirt, putting it around your neck instead. “I knew you’d be into it, you’re a little freak, aren’t you?”

You don’t know what to answer. Is there even anything you can say back to him? What’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and the bookshelves, his slender fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face.

But would that be really a lie saying he’s wrong about you? He doesn’t know you…

He kisses you again, this time sloppier, his tongue dominating yours easily. He nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath — apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth.

He graces the bump of your pussy with his knuckles, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. He rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a whine escaping your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. The moment is brief until he slips his hand into your underwear.

You try to make him stop by grabbing his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘please’ that makes him chuckle.

“Already begging for me, sweetheart?” He softly laughs, smirking at you. “Excited by the idea of a guy’s fingers in your little cunt instead of yours? Is that it?”

You frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this… your thoughts are going into a completely different way. What’s wrong with you?

“Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? How it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…”

He’s not waiting for an answer as he starts stroking your bud of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. You let out another whine, this time of pleasure.

Jay then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for long as he pushes a finger into you. You bite down on your bottom lip — the size of his fingers are in no comparison to yours. Your eyes well up in tears, little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit.

“I know, I know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” You nod your head, confirming his words. “It’ll feel good soon, I promise. You’re used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

When he says this, you have a hard time believing him. How could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this — when it’s not what you wanted.

He begins to move his fingers inside of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. He curls his fingers, making a little hook, patting your sweet spot. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace.

Tears are still falling down from your eyes, eyelashes wet and sticky, but they aren’t the result of your pain…

“You’re pretty when you cry,” Jay murmurs beside your ear, butterflies in your stomach when he tells you this.

He unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his hip. You now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g-spot. You dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. This makes you breathless, head rolling back on your shoulders and hitting the shelves behind you.

“Oh, my god-!” You exclaim when Jay’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. Your legs are twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

You’d probably be more aware of his hard cock trapped in his baggy jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than Jay fingering you, hitting your sensitive spot each time he thrusts in.

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, moving faster. “You feel it? Huh?” He asks and you croak out a weak ‘yes’. “Tell me how it feels.”

You hate his questions — you hate them so much. He knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.

“G-Good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans you let out.

“Yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and nodding your head. “Fuck!” You curse out when you finally reach your high, grasping onto his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body shaking.

Jay helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all said in the sweetest voice, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet.

“Good girl,” he praises, “see, I told you it’d feel great.”

He still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. It’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but Jay retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.

He could stop there, but he won’t — though he got what he wanted, he needs more…

He pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening in your arousal. “Open wide for me, baby,” he instructs.

You glance at his hand, a little repulsed. You’ve never thought of tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done if not for Jay.

You then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in.

“Suck,” he adds on, expecting you to follow his orders, and you do without a second thought.

He stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. The taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… It doesn’t taste much, in fact.

He removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “As sweet as you are,” he grins. “Turn around.”

You hesitate for a moment, looking at him credulously, before doing what he asked you to do on trembling legs.

“Are you…?” You say under your breath, looking over your shoulder and seeing Jay pulling the zipper of his pants down.

“Going to put my cock into you?” he finishes your question, “yeah, I am.”

You stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down.

He soon gets his cock out of his briefs, pumping himself a couple of times before aligning his head with your dripping entrance. His right hand keeps your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “because this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” He swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing in the big library.

You can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. Though you have no idea what he looks like, the painful feeling of your cunt getting stretched out to his size tells you he’s really big.

And he was right. This hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings are not comparable at all.

“Jay-,” you cry out, holding onto the shelves in front of you till there’s no more blood in your knuckles.

He hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. When he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.

You involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. He then starts thrusting into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at a slow but harsh pace. Each time he bottoms out, Jay makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.

But the storm is so intense and noisy that he’s pretty sure nobody else in the library could hear you — if there was anyone else here apart from the two of you anyway.

Your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restraint. It’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.

You don’t know how long you can stay in this position, especially when Jay’s drilling his cock into you like nothing else matters. It’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.

You’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath on your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. You can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him in.

“Shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis. “How could I have ever missed out on you… You’re so- fuck,” Jay chokes out, not finishing his sentence, but you have a guess on what he wanted to say.

He then kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. He leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder.

Telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm.

As he thrusts into you, his balls slap your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. Jay lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face.

Your mouth is ajar to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. He didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough.

Making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you or eating you — or both. Jay doesn’t care, he just wants it.

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. Jay feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until he slips out. He rapidly strokes himself and cums on your ass, strings of white cum falling on you. “Oh, god…”

He stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. He then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you.

Suddenly, you both catch on the voices entering the library, making you rush to dress up and clean yourselves.

—-

You’re in your bedroom, studying and writing down in your notebook while lying on your bed. It’s relatively quiet in your house, hearing the TV downstairs playing and the ceiling fan above your head running.

The ringtone of your cell phone breaks the silence, buzzing on top of your bedsheets. It’s a number that you don’t recognize, but the first digitals show that it’s a number from your area, so you pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, pretty.”

“Uh, who is this?” You ask the person on the other side of the line because you have no idea who would call you like this. They must know you.

“Take a guess,” they say, and their tone is oddly flirty.

You frown, starting to remember where you heard this voice for the last time… And in which situation exactly.

“... Jay?”

He laughs at that and you can imagine the cheeky smile he’s sporting right now.

“You got it,” he replies, “see, I knew you’d remember me.”

You immediately feel uneasy despite the fact you’re just talking through the phone, but things have happened since your encounter with Jay.

Things such as more dead girls, all brutally murdered by this supposed ‘animal’.

You suspected nothing until you noticed how tired looking Jay was a day or two after what happened in the library. Normally, you wouldn’t have looked at him, but you literally couldn’t get him out of your head after how intimate the both of you had been.

Every time he was in the same hallway as you, you’d give him a glance and nothing more as you were too shy to talk to him or even look at him for too long.

But sometimes you dared to watch him a little longer when he didn’t know you were there.

And you saw the dark circles, the bad attitude he had with his friends, and the disdain look he seemed to give to everybody. You also saw him get in his car with a girl. You were jealous for a second, but you felt totally different the next day when that same girl went missing and that Jay was doing fine again.

At first, it was just silly thoughts, but it was too strong of a coincidence, you couldn’t think about anything else.

Jay’s an incubus.

“Yeah…” You say back, shoulders tense as you sit up on your bed. “How did you get my number?”

“Asked Jungwon for it,” he simply explains. “You did a project back in highschool together. Remember?”

You do remember. You were so stressed out about it. Paired with a popular jock? You believed the teacher was against you, but it turned out that Jungwon was way nicer than you thought.

“Luckily, you didn’t change numbers.”

Lucky for who?

“Right,” you huff out, looking through your window, a shiver passing through you at the thought of Jay hiding somewhere.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Uhm, just studying… Why?”

“Wanna go out with me?” Jay proposes after a few seconds of silence.

You look through your window again. It’s dark outside. This would be such a bad idea…

“It’s 9 p.m. on a Thursday night,” you begin, sounding way too bitchy for his liking, “where would we go? And why would I even go out with you…”

“The park’s always open,” he adds.

“What-”

“Relax. Nothing bad gonna happen, alright?" his voice resonates through the phone, hearing a slight laugh after. "I miss you, that's all."

You bite down on your lip, shaking your head to get all of your stupid thoughts away. As much as you hate to admit it, you love hearing that from Jay. That’s all you wanted him to say since he left you in the library… tell you he needs you as much as you need him.

But this isn’t the time for that — there won’t ever be another time anyway.

You respond nothing and so he takes it as a yes. “Send me your address, I’ll come pick you up in 10 minutes. Put something pretty on,” he chuckles, hanging up.

—-

The park isn’t an open space with benches and a fountain. It’s basically the woods where you go for hiking. There are paths you can follow that will all lead you to the same place at the end.

You could have thought of something smarter, or less dangerous, but you didn’t have any time. Jay showed up at your entrance precisely 10 minutes after he hung up and you weren’t exactly ready to see him just yet.

You had to get in his car anyway, the whole ride being quiet until you arrived at your destination. Your stomach churned up the moment you entered the woods, Jay behind you.

Your heart is still beating super fast right now, whether it’s because you’re absolutely scared or because Jay is kissing you feverishly, it doesn’t matter. You can’t do this, and you don’t know how it might end for you if you let yourself be distracted by him.

“Jay,” you manage to say between kisses. You push harder on his chest, making him stop from putting his tongue in your mouth. “We need to talk,” you say firmly.

“About what?” he chuckles, diving back down to the crook of your neck where he plants wet kisses, his hand sneaking up under your dress while the other holds your hip.

You squirm, fighting hard to not let yourself give in to his touch.

“I saw… I saw Kazuha and you getting into your car the other day,” you confess and he backs away from your neck when he hears that, looking intently at your face.

“And? You were jealous, is that it?” He questions, lifting one eyebrow.

“No! I mean-,” you answer right after, thinking about what to say and how to say it. “She went missing the day after you saw her, and-”

Jay gets visibly annoyed, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets go of you, still looking at you, but not with lustful eyes anymore.

“What? What are you trying to say, huh?” He huffs out. “That I killed her? Fucking crazy.”

Is he really guilty? He has to be. You know he is.

“Back in the library,” you begin to say, “were you… did you intend to kill me?” You eventually say it all, breath caught in your throat as you watch Jay registering your words.

He sighs, “why would it matter?” You frown at that, about to respond, but he steps closer to you, trapping you between him and the tree again. “Just let me take care of you, gonna make you feel so good, baby…”

He slips his hands under your dress so rapidly that you don’t have any time to react, immediately overwhelmed by his groping and his lips all over you.

But you get back to your senses, using all your force to push him away. You succeed to have a safe distance between the two of you.

“So you’re admitting it!? You wanted to- to do the same thing to me!”

“No,” he disagrees, his voice harsh, sounding quite annoyed. “I just wanted- Fuck!” he exclaims angrily, but it’s like he doesn’t know what to say.

“You could have had everybody you wanted, Jay,” you state, looking him into the eyes, “why me?”

He looks back at you and you wonder how you couldn’t have seen it before… The evil.

“Why not? You’re hot, kinda stuck-up, but I had to try it, you know,” he chuckles. “For a nerdy girl, you sure know how to take dick.”

This angers you to a point…

“Fuck you!”

And without thinking twice, you reach down to pick up the pocket knife you hid in your boot before.

You open it and you rush toward Jay, stabbing him in his lower stomach. You retrieve the knife a bit too hastily, resulting in you dropping it and falling down on your butt to the ground.

Jay also falls down, holding onto his stomach, red blood dripping out of his cut onto his hands. He yells out many curses, sucking air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can.

You watch him, startled and out of breath, eventually turning around and searching for your knife through the dirt and dead leaves. When you find it, you get back up and to Jay, but he isn’t there anymore.

He has completely disappeared.

#tw dubcon #— ☆ starring enhypen #w/ jay !#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jay x reader #jay smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts

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enha-hype · 2 months ago

Text

&team - period care ♡ (hyung line)

how each member deals with/reacts to different period symptoms

pairing: bf!&team x afab!reader

genre: fluff and lots of comfort

warnings: mentions of period blood, period pain, dizziness, crying, cursing

w.c.: around 500-700 for each member

a/n: if this doesn't flop i'll post part 2 with maknae line lol. also everybody cheer i wrote something for someone other than nichojoo! xD

🪐 euijoo (crying spells)

you wake up feeling like shit and wanting to cry for no particular reason other than that you're on your period and your hormones are all over the place. added to that was the fact that the space next to you on the bed was empty – your boyfriend was already up. which isn't unusual, euijoo had always been an early bird. however, on that particular morning you couldn't help but wish he was still in bed cuddling you – maybe then you would be feeling less shitty. you feel kind of offended although you know it isn't fair – how is he supposed to know what you want if you don't tell him?

(more under the cut!)

“juju?” you call out but there's no answer – he probably couldn't hear you. you groan and steel yourself to get out of bed; it's about time anyway.

you head to the bathroom to freshen up and do your morning duties and when you emerge from the bedroom you find euijoo in the kitchen making breakfast.

“good morning my love,” he greets you with his warm smile and the sight of him immediately makes you feel a little better. “if you've brushed your teeth have this while you wait. breakfast will be ready in 10!”

‘this’ refers to a bowl of peeled pomegranates sitting on the kitchen table. you look at it and then back at him. he peeled an entire pomegranate for you despite how time consuming and troublesome it must've been. AND he's making breakfast. and most importantly, he looks so damn happy doing it. as you stare at the bowl of pomegranates, you can feel your eyes starting to water and the tears spill over soon after.

“no no baby what's wrong? do you not like pomegranates? but they're good for you – especially on your period,” euijoo is by your side in a minute brushing the tears away.

the fact that he specifically looked up what foods are good on your period only makes you more emotional and you feel guilty for feeling upset at him for not staying in bed longer. when you're finally coherent enough for him to be able to understand what you're saying amidst your sobs, he lets out a frustrated chuckle of disbelief.

“that's why you're crying? god you had me worried for a bit there,” he says, hugging you to his chest.

“you're literally the sweetest ever...what did i do to deserve you?” you mumble.

“sweetheart that was the bare minimum,”

“not to me!” you sniffle, wondering what the hell the opposite of bare minimum was. “to me that was like– like, the grand maximum!”

he giggles at that. “alright, cutie. let's get you something to eat,”

after a morning of crying about peeled pomegranates, then about how delicious the breakfast was and then crying about all the crying, you've finally calmed down. you're lying on euijoo's lap and he's running his fingers through your hair with one hand replying to his texts using the other.

“it's very aptly named the orange peel theory, don't you think?” you ask.

“uhh but that was a pomegranate i peeled, not an orange...”

“yes but you're an orange,” you explain like it's the most obvious thing.

he stares blankly at you. “i'm...an orange?”

“uh huh,”

he gives in because really, what choice does he have? “whatever you say my love,”

🪐 fuma (dizziness)

murata fuma is an exceptionally calm and rational man. even when things don't work out or seem to be going downhill, he never panics and instead seeks to figure out what the next plan of action should be – because really, what good would freaking out do? not a lot of things scared him either, it was like the man had no weaknesses. he is one of the most level-headed people you know, and it's no wonder that people often came to him for advice – murata fuma is an exceptionally calm and rational man. except when it comes to you.

for your date today, you're at a mini concert hall to watch this indie rock band play. fuma has been obsessed with them ever since he discovered them a few months ago and after weeks of trying you were finally able to get tickets for today. there's just one tiny problem however – you're on your period, and you don't do well in crowded spaces during this time especially if you have to stand for a long period of time, like you have been for a while now.

fuma is of course not aware of this – as far as he knows your period is not due for another week. you know that if you had told him, he would've not only made you stay home but would've stayed back himself to take care of you and you didn't want to do that to him; you knew how excited he'd been for this.

and so here you both are. you're only halfway through the concert and you're already regretting it. you've been standing for over an hour now and you badly want to – no, need to sit down. you feel kind of breathless and you're sweating but your body also feels weirdly cool at the same time. the music and the screaming around you start to sound like they're coming from far away and you sway on the spot. the last thing your eyes register before you black out is fuma’s panicked eyes.

when you come to, it takes you a minute to figure out where you are – on the couch in the waiting area outside near the receptionist’s desk. worry is etched into your boyfriend's features as he hovers over you along with two other people you don't recognise.

“oh good they're awake. yeah it looks like they just need some air,” one of them says.

fuma helps you sit up and you avoid meeting his eyes; you're mortified.

“how are you feeling?” he asks gently.

you nod and smile sheepishly. “i'm okay now, it just felt a little suffocating in there is all,”

he studies you carefully like he isn't convinced and you notice beads of sweat drying on his forehead. after fuma has thanked and bid adieu to the two strangers who had been kind enough to help your boyfriend who had apparently been running around like a headless chicken after you fainted, he comes to you and envelopes you in a hug so tight you think you might pass out again.

“please don't do that ever again oh my god i swear my heart stopped that was the most distressing 10 minutes of my life. it felt like it lasted forever,”

you chuckle weakly and pat his back comfortingly. “it's a pity i wasn't conscious to see it,”

he pulls back and gives you a stern and disappointed look. “that's not funny, y/n,”

“okay yeah i'm sorry i made you panic. i should've told you the truth, it was stupid,”

“incredibly stupid. i can't believe you thought i would care about a stupid concert more than you,”

“well no it's actually because i knew you would care more about me being okay that i didn't tell you. i wanted you to have a fun time since you've been working so hard lately,”

“any time i spend with you is fun. i don't need to go to a concert for fun,” he grumbles.

“you know what i mean though,”

he crosses his arms across his chest. “no i don't. and you know what? you've just lost walking privileges for the next two days for lying to me and then passing out,”

“i've lost wa– what? fuma don't be ridiculous,”

“it's no more ridiculous than what you just did,” he retorts obstinately.

and he was actually serious about it – he carried you bridal style to the car and then from the car to your apartment and he wouldn't even put you down inside the elevator; he waited until he got to your shared bedroom. and even though you assured him you were fine he proceeded to fuss over you for the next couple of days, not letting you step out of the house without his “supervision”.

🪐 kei (muscle pain)

it's the second day of your period and your legs are hurting more than usual because you had had to stand for hours at the conference at work earlier today. while the pain isn't exactly unbearable, it's still bad enough that sleep keeps evading you. you roll over and look at the clock on the side table – it's 12.47 am. the longer you stay awake, the less well-rested you'll be tomorrow. you have to be up in 5 hours. tears of frustration make their way down your cheeks.

not wanting to disturb your boyfriend kei who is peacefully asleep beside you, you get out of bed and make your way to the couch in the living room. you flop down and try massaging your legs, sniffling quietly.

kei stirs awake a little while later. he reaches an arm out sleepily to pull you close but when he finds the bed empty he immediately sits up.

“y/n?” he calls out, his voice thick with sleep. he walks out to the living room and sees your hunched figure on the couch and frowns. he's about to switch on the light when he hears you sniffle and freezes. he stands there for a few seconds listening to you cry, his heart slowly breaking. he wonders why you ever felt like you couldn't come to him with whatever was troubling you.

he turns on the light and makes his way to you as you quickly wipe your face and try to seem okay. he wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

“what's wrong?” he asks softly.

“it's nothing. just a bit of muscle pain. i'll be fine in a while, kei. go back to bed.”

kei is not having it. he scoops you up off the couch effortlessly and carries you back to your room, ignoring your weak protests. “is it because of your period? why didn't you wake me?” he asks while he lays you down gently on the bed.

“it's really not that serious, babe. besides it's late and you have work tomorrow,”

“so? you do too. and if anything you need to sleep more than i do.”

“it's really not that big of a deal...” you start to say and kei gives you a disappointed look. he sighs and doesn't say anything further, just quietly massages your legs. but dang does the man have magic hands. his strong hands skillfully knead your leg muscles and you can feel the pain slowly fading away. you could cry tears of relief. you sigh contentedly and mumble a thank you, holding out your arms for a hug but he ignores you. “kei?”

“do you not trust me?”

the question catches you off guard. “what?”

“you never come to me when you're in pain...” he sounds so dejected.

“oh, love,” you sit up and scooch closer to him. “of course i trust you. it's just– you're always taking care everyone else and–”

“because i like taking care of the people i love. and i love you the most. but you never let me do anything for you even though you're always taking care of me and i don't know, it sometimes feels like you don't trust me enough to be vulnerable with me…” his voice cracks on the last syllable and you want to kick yourself.

you never meant to make him feel this way. he was always the one taking care of those around him so in your relationship at least you wanted him to be on the receiving end which is why you tried never to burden him with your problems, big or small. but you were so caught up in what you thought was best for him that you didn't consider how he might feel about it.

“i'm sorry, i didn't realise how that must make you feel, love. i trust you more than i trust anyone, of course you're the one i always want to run to no matter what. so from now that's what i'll do, okay?”

“you promise?”

“i do,” you seal it with a soft kiss on his pout, which makes him smile. he massages you until you fall asleep, and snuggles up next to you soon after.

🪐 nicholas (staining)

you wake up to the unmistakable feeling of blood soaking through your underwear onto your pants and you yeet yourself out of bed as fast as you can praying it hasn't gotten on the covers as well – you're at your boyfriend nicho's place.

but luck was not on your side – there's a coin-sized dark red stain on the light blue sheet. fucking great. you cannot believe this. how on earth did you manage to bleed through not one but two extra large pads?! god kill me. you make your way to the bathroom as quietly as possible so as not to wake your boyfriend – you know how much he loves to sleep and how grumpy he gets when he's woken up. granted, he doesn't mind as much when it's you but you still don't want to disturb him.

you clean yourself up, grateful you had brought an extra pair of underwear and night pants for your stay. then you wet a piece of cloth and head back, leaving the bathroom door open just a sliver so there's enough light for you to see. you lift the stained part of the sheet a little so it doesn't stain the mattress and proceed to rub the wet cloth against it so you can at least get the blood off of it – you know it'll be much harder to clean once it dries – and you can't very well strip the entire sheet off the mattress with your boyfriend still sleeping. and god, does he look so incredibly adorable.

the stain looks significantly much lighter now, and you head back to the bathroom to rinse the cloth out and apply a drop of detergent liquid to it. you glance at the clock on your way – it's 2:14 am. you groan internally. you can't even go straight to bed after this because you will also have to wash the bloody mess that's your underwear and pants. you had triple checked to make sure everything was leak-proof before bed but there's only so much you can do when your body apparently likes ejecting copious amounts of blood for no good reason. and now you're stuck dealing with the aftermath when all you really wanna do is collapse and never wake up for a week but you can't and are now questioning whether a uterus is really worth having or if you can just rip it out. you're so preoccupied thinking about all this while washing up at the bathroom sink that you don't notice nicholas standing at the bathroom door watching you until he speaks up.

“that's a lot of blood...”

you meet his alarmed eyes in the mirror. “oh shit oh fuck i'm so sorry nicho i didn't mean to wake you or for you to see this and i'm so sorry it got on the sheets as well- just a little but i'm still sorry i swear i don't–”

“hey hey hey babe shhh it's okay, stop apologising,” he places his hands on your shoulders and gently squeezes to halt your anxious rambling. you look close to tears and it breaks his heart. “why are you even apologising baby? i said that's a lot of blood in the sense that i was worried - is it normal for you to be bleeding that much?”

“well, um sometimes i guess but– wait are you sure? you're not mad?”

“why on earth would i be mad?” he looks a little hurt that you would think that.

“because i got blood on your sheets...”

“so? that can be washed,”

“i also woke you up...and you love sleep....”

he cups your face. “i love you more, dumbass. if anything i'm just mad you didn't wake me sooner - i could've helped you clean up,”

you stare at your boyfriend, taking in his bleary eyes and his hair sticking up in all directions and the earnest sincerity in what he just said. you didn't think it was possible to love him more than you already did but here you are.

divider credits: @/enchanthings-a

#&team fluff #&team scenarios #&team ej #&team fuma #&team k #&team nicholas #wang yixiang #byun euijoo #koga yudai #murata fuma #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #&team imagines #&team x reader #&team #andteam fluff #andteam drabbles #andteam scenarios

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jjkbambi · 4 months ago

Text

is it new years yet? luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! you run into ex-boyfriend!luigi mangione at a nye party! smut!

warnings: fratboy!luigi, darkfic (very much implied he slips something in ur drink), cnc?, long fic, mentions of calvin harris music, inspired by the fact that he had to nominate himself to win this category

masterlist

the new year was meant to feel different.

yet, the doors at phi kappa psi open for you and a chances of anything more seems to slim. a record number of beer cans trashed in the hallway, the kitchen buried in chaos, and the overwhelming stench of beer clings to the air, impossible to ignore. you were surprised at how easily they’d let you enter—the bouncer was known for being a bit mean, strict on names and IDS and ages and sorority associations, yet one short smile was enough to get you and your best friend, lacy, into their annual new years eve party.

there wasn’t a second break from avicii or calvin harris, the crowd bouncing with red solo cups in hand. about a dozen of drinks were spilled on you already, and you were sure this was an indicator of a good night.

“is that him?” your friend’s nudge proves your prophecy wrong. your stomach drops immediately as you turn to the direction she was staring in��and yes, there he was, shirtless and six-packed on new year’s eve, surrounded by his pack of fraternity brothers.

the world suddenly feels so much smaller. you turn quickly. “lacy, he cannot see me.”

“have you spoken since the breakup?”

“if i had, id be in classier heels,” you retort, shaking your head.

you show her the reason you’ve been off your phone so much recently. about 34 days since you’ve seen each other in person, and a stunning 78 texts and 29 missed calls left in lieu of a breakup conversation. it honestly felt like too little an amount considering how long you’d been dating, but perhaps that was the least of your relationship problems, seeing as though you’d caught him making out with another girl at a football game.

she groans. “why’d we have to come to this house?”

“free entry? fireworks?” you come up with a lie that’ll make the both of you feel better. “i honestly don’t think we’ll run into each other. it’s such a big place.”

“he’s walking over here.”

“aaand we’re moving,” you sing, dragging her into the crowd of calvin harris enjoyers. for two hours, slipping in and out of the chaos seemed to be a surefire solution in avoiding your ex-boyfriend. that is, until you turn and suddenly your best friend isn’t there. you stiffen immediately, backing into the kitchen. in that step back, you bump shoulders.

“y/n,” an all too familiar voice says.

oh for fucks sake.

you smile tightly at the sight of luigi, trying not to make this already awkward situation more awkward. he looks different than he did the last time you’d seen him. his usually short hair had grown out longer, his beard more prominent. he looks… grown.

“hey!” you say, attempting to make a swift getaway. “happy new year, man!”

“get back here.” he grabs your wrist, pulling you right back to him. “what’re you doing?”

“it’s new years!”

“what are you doing here? wearing that?”

you smile, feigning innocence. “getting a re-fill!”

luigi’s eyes were dark and his grip firm. your air of innocence is almost completely defeated at his warmth, his body leaning into you, intent. “i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

no, you can’t do it. this was gonna be a new year for you. no setbacks, no cheating ex-boyfriends.

“i’m surprised you even noticed, with all your other distractions.”

luigi’s head tilts. “what does that mean?”

“you know what it means.” you pull away from him with as much force as possible. “seriously, lu, it’s over.”

“no, it’s not.” he argues. you shake your head as you walk away. “y/n, we’ve got to talk about this—“

“just leave me alone!” you leap out of the kitchen as soon as opportunity arrives, and pour the entirety of what’s left of your cup into your mouth. the wicked sting of alcohol had never been so relieving.

minutes pass but the sound of avicii is constant. phi kappa psi has promised fireworks and began to gather in the backyard and you want nothing more than to join in on the party—but lacy. your best friend. you need to find her. the recovery mission begins with a stumble down the hallway and a headache. it’s more than a headache, it all of a sudden feels like you reallyreallyreally need to take a nap.

“hey, hey, i’ve got you,” it’s luigi again. you can tell by his warmth and his scent and the way he grabs your hand. “where are you going?”

“lacy.”

he takes the drink out of your hand, then lifts your arms to wrap them around his neck. and suddenly, the warmth of his body isn’t so intimidating anymore. “that’s not my name.”

“i know.”

he leans in closer. “come on then, what’s my name?”

“lu,” you murmur. “i need to go.”

“you’re not going anywhere.” luigi promises you.

within a second, his lips are on yours, and suddenly his warmth is everywhere. you whimper into the kiss, trying to spell out protest but you’re too weak. “relax for me,” he tells you.

you were entirely too relaxed. any reasonable part of you wouldn’t allow for him to be this close. but before you can stop him, his hands slide down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you. he’s so hard.

“i love this dress on you,” he murmurs.

desperate, you try to push, “no, no, we need to find—”

“we’re taking care of her, too, baby, don’t worry.”

you squirmed underneath his touch, which only made the friction hotter. “what?”

he doesn’t care to tell you anything more grinding into your resistance mercilessly as his hands clamp around your hips, rocking your body back and forth on his thigh.

“you’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, you know,” he grumbles into the kiss, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle in your core. every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasp when he goes to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck. “walking around my house dressed like a fuckin’ slut. got me all worked up in front of everyone.”

you despise the helplessness that washes over you as he holds you down. tears sting at your eyes as you beg, “lu, stop.”

“pull your dress up,” he orders, drinking in your scent. his scruff scratches your skin.

“no.” you shake your head again, though his kisses are persistent. “luigi, we can’t.“

“you’re right,” luigi agrees, chuckling into another kiss. “i’m not fuckin’ sharing you.”

his lips don’t leave yours—theyre all over your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your tits—as he carries you into the nearest room, and you’re too lost in the moment to notice whether it’s his own. your dress hits the floor and his hands are all over your nude. the mix of confusion and pleasure leaves you breathless. before you can process it, you’re on the bed with your ex-boyfriend on top of you.

“you know how many other guys were looking at you tonight?” he growls as he flips you over. “swear ill fucking kill them”

he was so big and your body was so unprepared that you’d screamed, which only made luigi laugh. a choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time.

“fuckin’ knew it,” lu groans. your teeth sink into your lips as you tremble underneath him, his hard length relentless in its assault. “knew you’d take it f’me like this, yeah? like a good fuckin’ girl.”

the bed shook beneath you as he pounded into you. he goes to bite your neck, his curls tickling your skin. he feels so good, but the weight of how wrong it is lingers in every touch. “lu,” you moan.

“what?” he says, smug. “what d’ya wanna say?”

“it hurts,” you whine.

”i don’t care,” luigi says in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “you know how fuckin’ long it’s been since ive had you? no, you’ve got no clue. drove myself crazy thinking i’d never have this pretty pussy again.”

“it’s your fault��“

“shut the fuck up.” his hand comes down hard on your ass and a whimper slips from your lips. he growls low, feeling how tight you’re holding him. “you’re mine,” he grunts. “don’t you ever forget that.”

“luigi, wait,” you moan, your mind going blank. it’s too much—wrong in every way, yet too good to resist.

you feel him smirk against your neck. despite yourself, you felt your cunt clench hard around his stiff length as a flood gushes from your trembling core. he chuckles darkly, mocking your resistance. “can’t take it? too much?”

“lu, please.” your voice was embarrassingly breathless. he goes faster, which felt entirely impossible.

he must’ve heard the plea this time, because he doubled his efforts. he picked up the pace of his thrusts, fucking you hard and fast, spanking your ass mercilessly while his other hand went to massage your clit. you could hardly breathe.

“so good,” he groans. “be a good girl and cum for me, princess. all over me, come on.”

“please,” you whimper again. you’re not sure what you’re asking for, but it hardly mattered. the most devastating orgasm of your life was building deep within you, an unstoppable force growing stronger with every moment—and you were desperate to chase it.

“you’re all fucking mine,” he laments. “i wanna hear you say it.”

you couldn’t possibly. your mind goes blank as he ruts into you, pounding into your cunt and ass so hard that the clapping of his hips against your skin was filling the room and almost drowning out the sound of the new year celebration.

“tell me what i wanna hear.” he demands.

“yours,” you mewl.

“good girl.” he bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. he fucks you harder, faster, slamming into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave a mark inside you.

you couldn’t take it anymore. your pride snaps inside you and you felt liquid gush between your thighs, coating his massive cock in your cunt. pleasure consumes you until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else. he groans at the sight of your orgasm, his cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.

luigi grumbled a soft, “fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock deep into your still pulsing cunt as he came. he let out a long moan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

“i’m so glad you came around, so glad,” he murmurs, turning you over to kiss you over and over and over again. “i love you, baby, you know that, right?”

the day after

#FREE MY BABY DADDY #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione x y/n #dark!luigi mangione #luigi mangione #luigi fanart #free luigi #uhc shooter #father to my children #husband #free luigi mangione #real person fiction #brian thomson #luigi mangione fanclub

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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 1 year ago

Note

How would the aot boys react if they heard a rumor that reader has a crush on them

i heard a rumor….

eren jaeger is so nosey when he hears the rumor going around. he’s intrigued by your crush on him and he wants to know every little detail, of course by everyone else and not you. he gathers everyone’s opinion and saves you for last. he doesn’t beat around the bush; he tells you he knows that you’re crushing hardcore on him. he’s playful and witty, trying to get you all flustered.

armin arlert, bless his heart, tries to be cool about it. and he does a fairly good job you think. he often finds ways to get you two alone but he never makes a bold move. he asks if he can help you do things, tries to find common interests, etc. you know he knows because you find him trying to spend too much time with you, not that you’re complaining. he just lets things take their course.

jean kirsteins plays the disinterested, too-cool-for-you character. he’s damn good at it too. his actions and short replies hurt your ego and your heart. so, you give him the same treatment back. this, he’s not a fan of. he demands that you tell him why you’re treating him like this and you respond that you’re just dishing out what he is. that makes him go ‘oh’ and it results in a very around the bush way of telling you he has some sort of feelings for you but he was trying to repress it.

connie springer grins from ear to ear for days end when he hears the news. he was already crushing on you big time and now that you like him back, he’s convinced your soulmate. shamelessly, connie asks (it’s more of a statement) that you go on a date. you cant believe he knows. you want to just disappear when he confronts you but he doesn’t understand why. “am i coming on too strong? hold on, i can get weak in the knees real quick.”

levi ackerman acts like he doesn’t know about your feelings for him. his behavior isn’t much different than when he didn’t know- his eye’s just tend to linger on you a bit longer. his gaze makes you feel…violated. it’s like he’s looking right through you or undressing you with his eyes. hard to tell. he continues driving you crazy in various subtle ways until you can’t take it anymore and wind up confessing at him in a ‘why are you doing this to me’ moment. he just laughs.

reiner braun's interest is piqued, that's for sure. he's not so smooth about it, always turning into a flustered mess when he's around you. you, now beginning to panic he knows your secret, turn into a shorter flustered mess. your awkwardness makes all your friends laugh and they just tease you more, which causes more stuttering and the cycle repeats. eren's the one who finally sets you up, not able to bare any more of reiner's incoherence.

bertholdt hoover makes the brave decision of telling you how he feels. he doesn't pick the greatest time. he tells you in front of all your friends and that leaves you feeling a little pressured. so, you get up and drag him away from everyone. the two of you share a raw confessional in peace and quiet. it leaves your heart full.

zeke jaeger texts you as soon as eren tells him. he doesn't wait for any more clarification. the text reads, heard you're basically in love with me. I'll pick you up later: a man of his word, he comes and picks you up. you try to him he's ridiculous but he knows you're his future wife.

erwin smith does his best to avoid you. a crush is meaningless to him.but fuck, the way you look at him makes his heart stop. he's beginning to think that there's something wrong with him- he can't breathe when you're around him. one night, he has too much wine to drink and accidentally lets it slip that he knows. he decides he doesn't care anymore and kisses you on the forehead, leaving you confused about the way he feels about you.

porco galliard's too fucking cocky. he starts spreading the rumor himself once he gets wind of it. he tells everyone he knows, bragging about it over and over. the rumor makes it's way back to you and you want to cry. so, that's what you do. you know everyone knows, so he must know. porco catches you crying and is upset with himself for spreading it. he didn't know you'd be so embarassed, considering he ‘obviously feels the same way’

please go read my jean fic 🤍

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quarterlifekitty · 5 months ago

Note

How the boys convince, coerce and/or deceive reader into slowly (or not so slowly) allowing anal sex--

Uh I mean??? What???? Who said that?????

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND 👀

Warning I went a little crazy on König’s in terms of depth but it’s actually a lot more on the tame side lol @machveil come pick up your man from the sleepover he frew up

cw: lotta dubcon, abuse of dynamic kinda stuff, manipulation

Gaz is catching flies with honey here. He likes to spread you open, take a good look, just tell you about everything he appreciates. Doesn’t matter if it’s the first time or the hundredth time. And eventually, it’s not just about your pussy. It’s about your little starfish. How it looks so cute— he can see it clench a little when he plays with your pussy. You laugh about how much he talks about it, but he’s all “no, I’m serious, love! It’s really pretty, y’know? And it looks so tight—“. He’s killing you with kindness about it.

You and Soap send each other porn clips all the time. Sometimes because they’re funny, or they’re gross, or because they turn you on. It’s like baiting a fishing rod sometimes. See what you’ll lure from each other. And he starts sending more and more video with anal… All quite gentle. Makes sure it’s amateur stuff so it doesn’t seem completely fake and full of pornstar moans. So it looks like a real woman is enjoying herself from it. And it’s always followed by him being like “fuck, would love to open you up like this, bonnie” (he doesn’t text in his accent ok).

Ghost is literally praying for the day when you’re too fucked stupid or anxious to stop him. Occasionally, like a shark biting a surfer, he tests you. Sees how far you’ll let him take it before you tell him to stop. He’ll press his tip to your ass, see how long it takes for you to say no, Simon. He might even act like it was a mistake. As if he couldn’t find his way to your cunt from miles away in the dark with no map. He’s just waiting for you to be either too out of your mind in pleasure to speak out, or too afraid of ruining his fun.

Price is doing the classic frog in boiling water (yes I know that’s a myth). He starts by just pressing his thumb there while he’s fucking you from behind… working you up to taking a finger. Keeps doing it until eventually, you ask him to. It feels wrong when he isn’t doing it. And so then he starts to ease you into two, and so it goes until you barely notice when he’s pulled out his cock and has it positioned right where he wants it.

König is pretty painfully fucking awkward about the affair. Saying he wants to fuck your ass is probably something that’s slipped out once or twice in the throes of passion, but he doesn’t speak of it afterward. One day when he’s deployed, he leaves some gifts in places he knows you’ll find them while he’s gone. He usually does this after he’s been on leave for a while— it softens the heartache of the separation for you, when he leaves these little gestures. And usually there’s small things— a very nice chocolate assortment in your bedside table, a few origami figures in the medicine cabinet, a decorated hair pin with fine engravings clipped onto a kitchen towel. And this time, there’s a box with a range of plugs in the bottom drawer where you keep the bedsheets, which you only change every two weeks. It’s planned so you’ll get the other gifts first, and there’s one more expensive than usual thrown in among them to butter you up. There lube, too. A perfect training set in silver. It’s up to you to choose to use them, but he knows how curious and bored you can get on your own for all that time.

Nikolai is going to convince you that it’s what you need. When you’re right on the precipice of a complete collapse— when he knows he’s fucked and coddled you into subspace. Into being suggestible. It’s when you’re on the verge of crashing from it, of dropping, breathing heavy and tears stinging your eyes that he tells you “I know what would make you calm down, malýshka.” When you’re so sensitive and vulnerable and wanting to drop back into that place where he’s everything and you’re nothing but his clay. So of course you nod— you’d have agreed to anything not to have to face your panic outside of his comforting embrace. If Nikolai says it will help, it will help. You have to believe that.

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coolemmasulivan2 · 5 months ago

Text

But Look Who He Follows

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Reader

Summary: You and Pedri have been keeping your relationship a secret, but when an interview is about to reveal that he follows you on Instagram instead of your brother, things may have to change.

Word count: 3156

Author's note: Inspired by Pedri's interview on Martínez y Hermanos.

Pedri wrapped a toilet around his waist and stepped out of the shower. The locker room was almost empty. Ferran, Dani, Cubarsí and Casadó were the only ones left.

As he began to get dressed, Ferran and Dani sat down beside him—one on each side.

Pedri glanced up from tying his sneakers and looked at them confused. "¿Qué passa?" (What?)

"Pensé que éramos amigos, hermano!" Ferran teased him. (I thought we were friends, man!)

Pedri furrowed his eyebrows.

Dani raised a hand to cover his mouth as he spoke. "So, today when I arrived I saw you having a chat with Cubarsí's sister." Pedri froze, the color draining from his face. "I mean, nothing wrong with that. I’ve talked to her a bunch of times. She’s super nice."

"But..." Ferran cut in this time, a mischievous grin playing on his face. "I heard you two were very close. Like... very, very close."

Pedri’s gaze darted to the far end of the locker room, where Cubarsí was deep in conversation with Casadó.

"What's going on? You two dating or something?" Ferran’s voice was loud enough to echo in the nearly empty locker room, and Pedri’s face flushed red with panic

"¡Cállate, idiota!" He hissed, glaring at Ferran. His eyes flicked nervously to Cubarsí and Casadó, but they were still engrossed in their own conversation. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. We were just having a normal conversation." (Shut up, idiot!)

Dani chuckled, clearly unconvinced. "That didn’t look like a normal conversation." Leaning in, he whispered: "You were almost kissing."

Pedri’s jaw tightened. "I don’t know what you think you saw, but we were just greeting each other. She was dropping Cubarsí off as I arrived. And yeah, like you said, she’s nice."

"Estás mintiendo. Te conozco." Ferran said, nudging Pedri’s arm with a smirk. "Is she the girl you've been texting?" (You're lying. I know you.)

"No!" Pedri snapped and blushed. "Let’s just drop this, okay?"

Dani wasn’t about to let it go. So with a mischievous glint in his eye, he called out. "Hey! Cubarsí?" Pedri’s head whipped around, and he shot Dani a deadly look.

"Yeah?"Cubarsí replied, glancing over.

"Does your sister have a boyfriend?"

Cubarsí froze, frowning at the unexpected question. "Why?"

"Oh, I’ve got this friend who’s single, and I thought--" Dani started, but Cubarsí cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"No, no. She’s a busy woman. She doesn’t have time to date."

Pedri couldn’t help but laugh under his breath at how innocent Cubarsí’s answer was. He had no idea that Pedri and you had been dating for eight months. The two of you had agreed to keep it private, and so far, you’d managed to pull it off.

"That's a pity!" Dani said. "I really thought they would be a match!" Pedri kicking Dani lightly in the leg.

You were parked outside Ciutat Esportiva, waiting for your brother, something you’d gotten used to doing since he didn’t have his driver’s license yet. It was during one of those routine that you first met Pedri.

You had just dropped your brother off at training. The rain was coming down strong, and you still felt weak from the lingering cold that had plagued you for weeks.

Truthfully, you shouldn’t have been driving. Your head was foggy, your focus scattered, but you’d assured Pau you were fine, insisting you could manage.

As you exited Ciutat Esportiva, your mind elsewhere, you didn't realise you’d drifted onto the wrong side of the road until a black Porsche appeared out of nowhere, headlights piercing through the rain.

Your eyes widened and your heart stopped. The Porsche swerved sharply, avoiding a collision, but crashed into the wall near the gate, its side scraping against the concrete with a sickening sound.

"No, no, no, no!" You muttered, panic running through you.

A security guard sprinted toward the Porsche, and you scrambled out of your car despite the rain soaking you instantly.

"Are you okay?" The guard asked, though one look at your pale face and trembling hands probably answered the question for him.

You leaned against your car door, feeling a wave of dizziness running through your still weak body. "I’m fine. I’m fine." You managed, though your voice didn’t sound convincing even to you.

The Porsche door swung open, and one of your brother’s teammates stepped out.

Pedri.

Dressed all in black, his hair quickly became wet from the rain. You recognized him instantly. You’d never met him personally, but there was no denying he was one of Barça’s most handsome players.

But when he turned toward you and the guard, your stomach dropped. A line of blood ran down his forehead.

You took a step forward, eyes wide. "Oh my god. Are you okay? I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t see where I was going."

Pedri locked eyes with you and for a second he couldn't think straight. He knew who you were. Everyone at the club did. But it was the first time he’d seen you outside your car. You were always in and out of Ciutat Esportiva in a blink of an eye.

Even then, always seeing you from afar, he’d thought you were beautiful. But now, standing in front of him, a worry look on your face, he couldn't help but think you were even more beautiful.

"Sí, I'm-- I'm okay!" He said. (Yes)

"But you’re bleeding!" You said, instinctively reaching out to brush his wet hair aside for a better look at the wound. Halfway there, you caught yourself and pulled your hand back awkwardly. "Call an ambulance, please." You urged the security guard.

The guard went to grab his phone, but Pedri stopped him with a raised hand. "No, no. It’s not necessary. I'll get checked inside."

"But..."

"Really, I'm fine."

You hesitated, unsure, but his tone left no room for argument. Then you glanced at the car, guilt settling in your stomach. "I’m so sorry about your car. I'll pay for it, of course. Whatever it costs."

"It’s okay. It’s not that bad." Pedri said, glancing at the car. He knew it was bad, the damage would cost a fortune, but he didn’t want you to worry or pay for it. Even if he didn’t have insurance, he had the money to cover the repairs easily. "I’m Pedri, by the way." He added, stretching out his hand.

You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. "Oh, sorry… I’m Y/n." You said, shaking his hand.

Pedri smiled, and despite everything that had just happened, you couldn’t help but notice how it softened his features.

You smiled at the memory. Pedri made you happy and loved. The secretism only made things more interesting. Not having to deal with families, with his fans and your protective younger brother, seemed like heaven.

As you smiled like an idiot alone in your car, your brother and Casadó stepped out, talking with each other. As they said their goodbyes, Casadó walked toward his car and Pau walked toward yours smiling and making faces.

"Hola, Hola!" He greeted you.

"Hola, hermanito! ¿Estás bien?" You asked him, messing his hair. (Hello, little brother. You okay?)

"Sí! Tires and hungry." He said.

"Me too! So let's go." As you turned on the engine, you saw Dani, Ferran and Pedri walking out. Your hand paused on the stick as you looked at them, more specifically your boyfriend.

Pedro instantly recognised your car and completely forgot what they were talking about. The only thought on his head was how he had to tell you how his interview on Martínez y Hermanos went, before it aired.

"What is it?" Ferran asked him. He and Dani looked in the direction his eyes went and saw you pulling out of the parking lot. "Joder, sí que estás saliendo con ella." He chuckled. (Shit, you're definitely dating her.)

You were having dinner at your parents house, laughing at the latest story of your father when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Discreetly, you pulled it out and glanced at the screen. A message from Pedri.

P ❤️: ¿Podemos quedar en tu casa? Necesito hablar contigo. (Can we met at you place? I need to talk to you.)

He had mentioned earlier that morning, after you’d dropped Pau off at Ciutat Esportiva, that he needed to talk to you. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it, especially since he’d left a soft, loving kiss at the corner of your lips, but now, reading the tone of his message, a shiver ran down our spine.

You: Claro! Estoy en casa de mis padres. Me voy ahora. (Of course. I'm at my parents house. I'm leaving now.)

You said goodbye to your parents and your brother and left. It was already late, so they didn't suspect it. As you reached for your car keys, your phone buzzed again in your pocket.

P ❤️: Ya estoy aquí. Conduce con cuidado. Te quiero. (I'm already here. Drive safely. I love you.)

You smiled, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you read his words. Whenever Pedri told you he loved you, it never failed to fill you with warmth.

When you arrived at your apartment, stepping out of the elevator, you saw him leaning casually against your door, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him waiting there made your heart flutter.

He looked up and smiled when he saw you. "Hola, guapa." (Hello, beautiful.)

"Hola, mi amor!" You replied, cupping his face as you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Come on in." You grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the apartment. (Hello, my love!)

As soon as the door closed behind you, you both shrugged off your jackets. You sat down on the sofa, watching him closely. Something about his body language, his slight hesitation, the way he avoided your eyes, made you uneasy. He was nervous, and that nervousness was starting to rub off on you.

He scratched the back of his neck and avoided your eyes. "I'm… I'm going to grab a glass of water." He stuttered.

Before you could say anything, he disappeared into the kitchen. You heard the clatter of glasses and the sound of water running. After a minute, he finally returned, sitting on the coffee table in front of you, his elbows resting on his knees as he ran his hands down his face.

"¿Qué pasa?" You asked gently. (What's happening?)

He let out a long sigh. "I think I messed up."

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

Clearing his throat, Pedri began to explain. "So, yesterday, I did the interview on Martínez y Hermanos." You nodded, encouraging him to continue. "Well... they brought up your brother." He went on, scratching his jaw.

"And..?"

"And, they joked about how I don’t follow your brother on Instagram." You shifted on the sofa, suddenly uncomfortable. Where is this going? You thought to himself. "But they also joked about the fact that… I follow you.!"

"So, he says he has a great relationship with you, but I don't think you do with him, though." Dani Martínez began

"No, we have a great relationship."

"I don't think you get on well with him. We are investigative journalists in this show and we've looked at who Pedri follows on Instagram." Dani said and Pedri chuckled nervously, leaning back on the sofa. "For example he follows Lewandowski. He follows Lamine Yamal." He paused for dramatic effect as the video kept playing, showing his insthram page. "Then we searched for his teammate Pau Cubarsí and de does NOT follow Cubarsí."

The audience burst into laughter. "I didn't know!" Pedri defended himself.

"He’s the only one on the team that you don’t follow. The only one!"

Now flustered, he turned toward the audience where his brother Fer was sitting. "My brother has my phone. Follow him back!"

"Where is he? Where's Fer with the phone? We'll get Pedri's phone and we're going to follow him now. How are you going to leave the kid unfollowed?" He said, standing up. "We have Pedri's phone."

Sitting back down beside Pedri on the red sofa, Dani handed him the phone. Pedri searched for your brother's profile on Instagram and held up the phone for the camera, ensuring everyone could see.

"Catch this on camera, because he is waiting for Pedri's to follow him as well." As he secured the phone, Pedri pressed the follow bottom. "Ya sigue Pau Cubarsí!" Dani announced triumphantly and the audience clapped. Just as Pedri thought he was off the hook, Dani’s grin widened. "Wait, wait, wait... We found something else. And this one's even worse." (He follows, Pau Cubarsí!)

Pedri furrowed his eyebrows. “What now?” He asked, chuckling nervously.

On the big screen, a video of Pedri’s Instagram profile appeared once more. The hosts scrolled through his following list. "He doesn’t follow his teammate, but... let’s check this name here..." The cursor typed, and a familiar name popped up.

Your name.

"He follows his sister!" The audience roared with laughter, and Pedri’s face turned bright red.

"Pedri, Pedri..." Dani said, barely able to contain his grin. "Look at him blush! Don’t laugh, it’s official now. This guy thinks Pau’s sister is more interesting than his teammate!"

The laughter in the room grew even louder, and Pedri buried his face in his hands, shaking his head with an embarrassed smile.

"I told you to stop following me, Pedro!" You scolded Pedri as he sat down next to you.

"How was I supposed to know they’d go snooping through my Instagram?" He protested, his voice tinged with worry. The thought of their private relationship potentially being exposed on national TV was clearly weighing on him.

"Pedri!" You said, pacing the room and running your hands through your hair. "Everybody knew you didn’t follow my brother. It was only a matter of time before someone made a joke about it."

He watched you with concern, noticing the tension in your every move. The truth was, he was just as nervous as you were. It felt too soon to have your intimate bubble burst, too soon for the world to know about your relationship.

"Maybe people won’t make a big deal out of it."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "Oh, they will. Everyone will. Your fans are going to eat me alive, and my brother is going to eat you alive."

Pedri reached out, gently grabbing your arm and pulling you onto his lap. "Is it really such a bad idea to make our relationship public?" He asked softly.

You looked at him. "Pedri... we’re not hiding." You said after a moment. "I just think we’re enjoying our time together. Without all the prying eyes and the media turning everything into a circus."

"So, you're not embarrassed of me?" He pounted.

You looked at him, shocked. "Why would I ever be embarrassed of you, Pedro?" You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones. "You're my boyfriend. I love you, and I'm proud of everything you’ve accomplished so far."

His shoulders relaxed at your words, and he leaned forward to kiss your neck. "I was so nervous leaving that studio." He admitted. "I felt like my heart was going to explode." He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it tenderly. "I just don’t ever want to put you in a situation where you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed."

You smiled and leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose. "You’re not embarrassing me, Pedri. If anything, you’re the one who’s going to be embarrassed on national TV."

He groaned dramatically, leaning his head back. "Ay, por favor, don't remind me."

You couldn’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "Sorry, mi amor."

"Should we tell our families?" Pedri asked, his voice soft.

You shrugged. "If you want to."

He gently ran his hand up and down your back, his touch soothing. "I do. But only if you’re okay with it."

Smiling, you let your fingers wander into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "Of course I am." Suddenly, a mischievous idea flashed through your mind, and your grin widened. "On one condition!"

Pedri raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What condition?"

Your grin turned into a sly smirk. "We don’t tell Pau anything... and we wait to see how he reacts to the interview."

Pedri let out a hearty laugh, his head tilting back. "Oh, no. You’re evil!"

"Come on!" You teased, leaning in closer. "You know it’s going to be hilarious. Imagine his face!"

He shook his head, laughing as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "He's going to kill me."

"Pff, you can handle my brother."

He laughed. "You’re trouble, guapa. You're trouble!"

BONUS SCENE:

You sat on the couch next to Pau, trying your best to keep a neutral expression as the TV flickered with the set of Martínez y Hermanos. Your brother was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, completely engrossed in the interview.

"Oh, this is going to be good." he muttered under his breath, and you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning. But deep down you couldn't help but feel nervous.

Carefully, you reached for your phone, angling it discreetly so it captured his profile and the screen in the background. The interview was just getting to the part you’d been waiting for.

When Dani handed him the phone and Pedri finally followed Pau live on TV, Pau leaned back on the couch with an exaggerated sigh.

"About time." He grumbled. "Honestly, what’s his problem?"

And then it came, the moment you'd been waiting for.

"He doesn’t follow his teammate, but... let’s check this name here... He follows his sister!"

Your brother froze, his jaw dropping as the audience on TV erupted into laughter.

"What?" He practically shouted, whipping his head toward you. "Did you know about this?"

You shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. "I mean... he probably follows a lot of people."

"Yeah, but you?" Pau’s face was a mixture of disbelief and confusion. He doesn’t follow me, but he follows you? That’s messed up!"

You couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. Pau stared at you, wide-eyed.

"Why are you laughing? What’s going on here?"

"Nothing, nothing!" You said, waving him off as you stood.

"Y/N!" He shouted after you, but you were already walking toward your room, trying to muffle your laughter.

You: He didn’t even realize why you really follow me. I think we’ll have to sit him down and tell him together. 😂

Moments later, Pedri’s reply came through.

P ❤️: That went better than I thought. Let’s tell him soon... but not too soon. 😂 Te quiero.

You smiled, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s cheeky reply. This is going to be interesting.

#fc barcelona #pedri #pedri gonzalez #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football imagine #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagine

611 notes · View notes

deepestnightcolor · 6 months ago

Note

Hear me out, the farmer's in need of a confidence boost and tries on some lingerie. Decides she should to get a second opinion and sends a pic to a friend, but accidentally sent the picture to her crush, Sam instead. Please tell what would happen next😋

ᴀ/ɴ: Here I am! Thank you so much for your time to request this. I hope you enjoy! I really thought this would be a shorter one, but I guess things escalated. Huh. Also kids, remember, you are beautiful the way you are and you all deserve a Sam in your life that will let you know that. Love you. ALSO I HAVE A NEW BANNER MADE BY @sashiavi WE THANK HER NICELY

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 4192 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: hints of sexting, masturbation, kissing, slobbering, pierced dick, some sort of mating press, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, dirty talk, more praise, lingerie

☾ ꜱɴᴀᴘꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ ☽

Sam’s fingers were shaking as he stared at the screen, disbelief written over his facial features in all bold letters. His lower lip wobbled as his blue eyes flicked from one corner to the next, up and down, side to side, trying to hammer every single detail into his brain, trying to tuck it away safely and forever. >>does this look ok? Feeling too ugly for it ☹<< the text below read – and Sam simply couldn’t believe how someone could have been so fucking wrong.? You see, he wasn’t in disbelief over how you looked. Sam had always been very much aware of how fucking hot he found you, how attracted he was to you, and how beautiful you were. He just couldn’t believe you couldn’t see what he saw. Didn’t he see how nicely the soft-looking fabric accentuated your chest? Didn’t you fucking see how it hugged your body in a way that made him envious, wishing that it were his hands in place of the lingerie you had put on. Yoba, all these details would be haunting him on lonely nights, and he was there for it. Your skin just looked so soft and the pout you were wearing on your face- Sam’s cock decided to make itself known by bobbing in the confines of his pants, but Sam had to set a record straight. >>I think you see a different picture cause you look absolutely AMAZING like holy fucking shit I just wanna have this picture in my brain forever and ever.<< He pressed “send” before he could form a thought that wasn’t fuelled by his dick and the outrage of you thinking this wasn’t anything but gorgeous.

His blue eyes trailed back up to the picture, pierced tongue wetting his lips that had started to feel dry when a text bubble caught his attention. You were typing. And then you weren’t. And then you were again. Sam had promised himself to pay attention to that, but he found himself letting his eyes follow the promising trails of your gorgeous body, the curves it offered. Yoba, what he would have given to touch you. He had barely even noticed that his hand had slipped underneath the waistband of his pants, gripping the length of his cock with still shaky fingers. He just couldn’t help himself! Not with how sweet you looked for him! A shaky breath left Sam’s lips as he gripped his cock tighter, allowing his hand to trace up and down, tip of his tongue sticking out as he tried to pace himself.

The poor man almost flinched when your picture suddenly slid upwards, making room for a new text: >>Omy Sam I am so so so sorry, I meant to send this to a friend fuck I am so sorry, please forget this<< Sam’s lower lip wobbled as he scrolled to find the picture gone. Another shaky breath left him as he leaned against the wall behind him, eyes closing as he desperately tried to remember the image, but his imagination and memory just couldn’t keep up with your beauty. A low groan left him, dick throbbing in sheer disappointment at the lack of attention as the blond’s hand had stopped its affections, numbly resting upon his shaft. Sam had been allowed a glance of heaven, and now he had been dropped back on the cold, hard ground.

But there was something that bothered him more than this sweet carrot that had been dangled in front of him being gone.

>>ok so I know that this pic wasn’t meant for me n all and that you are prolly really embarrassed rn, but I really meant what I said. You don’t just look ok, you look absolutely amazing like holy fucking shit.<< Sam watched the text bubble appear, just to disappear moments later. And there it was again, indicating you were typing. And then you weren’t. The blond allowed the metal ball on his tongue to glide along the back of his teeth, before a sudden idea popped into his head. >>wait.<<

The blond scrambled to get up from his bed, struggling out of his baggy jeans and peeling himself out of his jacket. It wasn’t long before he stood in front of the mirror with nothing but his boxers, snapping a picture of himself pretty much shamelessly.

It wasn’t long before the picture appeared on your phone, followed by a simple message. >>See? Now we are even<< >>But if you want me to prove what I think is true…<< >>Or we will never mention this again if you prefer my lips will be sealed, pinky promise.<< >>FUCK you are hot tho!! Absolutely beautiful!! Please never think anything else…<<

Your cheeks were still red with hot embarrassment, your eyes stinging with tears that had been welling up, but Yoba, did Sam look good. And what an opportunity that was! You squished your thighs together, heart pounding from seeing your crush exposing himself like this – for you, nonetheless. If you put your phone away now, you could forget all about this. Pretend this never happened. Crush on Sam from afar-

>>Come over in five?<< >>Count me in, darling.<<

He couldn’t believe how fast his legs had found his pants again, and how quickly he was wearing that hoodie again. But here he was, completely dressed and flying out of the door like a bat from hell. He didn’t even hear his mother yelling after him to close the door, the only thing he heard was the pounding of his heart and the crunching of grovel beneath the soles of his shoes. When had he even put on shoes? He didn’t fucking know, but he DID know that he needed to be there – needed to show you what he saw when he looked at you.

Yoba, he had been crushing on you for so long, and now here he was. Standing in front of your door, ready to prove you that you were more than just okay. To him, you were perfect.

“He-“ he started when you finally opened the door, but the word, albeit small, got stuck in his throat in a way that forced him to cough. He had expected you to open the door wearing something, at least a shirt, but no. You were standing there, wearing the same lingerie you had revealed on the picture. The sound of blood rushing through his ears stopped all of a sudden, instead he could feel his cock hardening yet again, Adam’s apple bobbing as you looked up at him through your lashes, arm loosely covering your stomach. “Hey,” you croaked, lower lip wobbling as you looked up at him. “That ba-“

This time you were the one being shut up abruptly, but not by your own admission. No, it was Sam’s eager lips finding yours in a passionate kiss, his hands holding on to your cheeks in a way that gave you no choice but to melt into it. “You,” Sam breathed against your lips, “are,” another kiss met your lips, a tongue sloppily tracing over them, allowing you to taste the metal pierced through it for just a brief moment, “so beautiful,” he whispered, not giving you the time to respond when his lips already pressed against yours again, his tongue finding its home in your mouth.

A small moan left your lips, your hands running through the blonde mess of hair, fingers catching some stray strands and wrapping around them to tug Sam closer, toward you, to feel him press against your skin. Oh Yoba, how right that felt, how it allowed the embarrassment from before to slowly wash away. Not completely, but you had a feeling that Sam would be more than willing to help you ease into this further and further until you could let yourself go.

“You wouldn’t believe,” the blonde started now, his soft lips brushing down your cheeks, kissing your jawline until they found their way to your neck, “how I fucking felt seeing that picture. Yoba, baby, you made me shake.” You could feel your skin beak out into goosebumps at his words – the thought of someone like you having an impact like that on someone as handsome as Sam? On someone you had been crushing on for Yoba knew how long? That was hard to grasp, out of your wildest dreams- As if Sam had sensed your thoughts drifting off, he slowly pulled away from you, letting his blue eyes drag down your body slowly. It was hard for you to resist the urge to cover yourself, but something that rested within the swirls of blue made you stay strong – you even puffed out your chest a little. “Fuck.”

Sam’s hands were quick to slip under your butt, pulling a squeak from your vocal cords as he picked you up with quite the ease. “Bedroom?” He asked, just barely pulling away from peppering your neck with kisses. Yoba, it was hard to focus like this, pressed up against him while his lips were finding spots on your neck that made your flesh break out in goosebumps. “Down the ha-hall, third door on the left,” you murmured, collecting all of your willpower to not just let yourself get lost in the feeling of soft lips pressing against your pulse point, trying your very hardest to not just thread your fingers through Sam’s fluffy hair like a desperate, mindless whore.

But when your back landed on the bed and when you saw Sam removing his hoodie in one swift movement, tossing it aside with a lack of care in favour of letting his eyes rake down your body again you knew you were over with. To be fair, however, Sam wasn’t holding up much better. The sight of you alone made his heart stutter and flutter in his chest, and he didn’t even want to mention the pre-cummy mess that his dick had drooled in his boxers. The small jingle of his belt buckle made your eyes drift downward, tongue running over your lower lip as you laid eyes upon the bulge still hidden behind the thick fabric of the man’s jeans. You barely even noticed that Sam had shimmied out of them, eyes focused on the wet spot on his boxers. Could you really have been the sole reason for this? “I have never seen anyone so beautiful,” Sam whispered, his calloused hands running up your shins oh so carefully and gently, the blond allowing himself some time before they settled on the inside of your thighs, a small smile playing on his lips when he saw you shudder. He urged your legs open with gentle pressure before falling on his knees in-between them, his fingers picking up their journey on your body. Slowly sliding up your thighs, enjoying the conjunction between your crotch and legs, drifting along your hips and up your sides. His breathing had already grown heavier, lower lip bitten to stop it from trembling as he drank you in like a man close to dying of thirst that had just found an ample oasis. You almost had to squirm under his gaze, under his light, considerate touch, but by Yoba, did it make you feel good. “Look at those tits…” His chest was heaving and falling quickly now – it took the poor man so much to hold back. His cock was throbbing in sync with his heart, achy tip leaking pre-cum like its life depended on it. And yet he held back, he wanted, no, needed you to know what he thought of you. How highly he thought of you. How much you took his breath away.

The blond leaned down as if he was bowing for prayer, his lips finding home on your body again by pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. The soft inhale coming from you made him smile again, and yet he stayed focused on the duty at hand. Slow kisses were pressed against your skin as he made his way upward, following along your lingerie when it came across his path. Lips met soft silk that kept your breasts hidden, but he didn’t mind. Quite the opposite – he decided to use the opportunity to let his tongue loll out, wet muscle dragging over the sweet fabric, tenderly wandering up your breast until it discovered your hardening nipple. His eyes drifted up to you again, giving you a soft smile and then he licked over your nipple, making your back arch off of the bed. “Look at you…,” he murmured, tongue drawing a small circle around the erect bud. Then he crossed the valley of your breasts with the same tender attention he had given to your chest, finding the other nipple to dote on it as well.

His hand didn’t remain resting, either. It started its journey again, but this time around it made its way down, locating the lacey waistband of your panties. When his eyes met yours again this time around, they were asking for silent permission. You barely could nod before you felt fingers dip down, calloused pads meeting wet folds, making Sam inhale sharply though his teeth. “Fuck, baby, holy fucking shit- you are so wet for me already? Shit.” Another sharp inhale followed the first, Sam’s long fingers gliding through your cunt, stopping just above your entrance and making their way back up.

The newfound attention had you writhe beneath Sam, not enough to have him slow you down, but enough to make him chuckle quietly against your tit. “That’s a good girl- hell, I didn’t think you could be any more breathtaking, but look atcha, look at your face, Yoba…I think I am in love.” His lower lip caught in-between his teeth again as his eyes fixed on your face, his fingers keeping up their teasing of your cunt, just so that he could keep seeing that expression resting on your face. Nose scrunched up, lower lip bitten, eyes flicking from his hand to his face, pretty lashes fluttering whenever you anticipated him to finally pay attention to your clit. “Sammmm,” you whispered, bucking up your hips when the pad of his pointer finger threatened to catch at your entrance again, “pleasssssssse-“ And how could he resist? You were wrapped up in lingerie, and you were the most gorgeous person on this planet and you said please-

“FUuuuuck,” Sam groaned when he felt your gummy walls suckle around his finger, eyes rolling back into his skull. If you were so greedy for a single finger already, how would you act about his cock? The thought alone made his penis twitch, the sticky fabric clinging to his head seemingly getting wetter by the second. The squelching noises that he coaxed out of your cunt with every thrust of his fingers were hot, but they were no match to your moans. They were fucking angelic, and he slurped and drank them up like his life depended on it. How could one human being be so entirely perfect and not fucking see it? It left Sam speechless, made his heart soar with something short of helplessness. He needed to show you. Show you how he saw you.

The kisses he planted all over you were wet and almost desperate, a second finger joing th one snuggly pressed up in your cunt. “My pretty girl,” he rambled, kissing your chest, your stomach, your collar bones, his fingers curling and pushing, poor boy slowly becoming frantic to coax these sounds out of you, to make you feel what he felt. “Pretty, pretty girl.”

His fingers were long, pushing and prodding at spots that made your world twirl. The sweet words being whispered at you didn’t help you trying to find your footing or the ability to speak, quite the opposite. The only thing that left your mouth were moans, body much too focused on chasing the source of pleasure, overwhelmed by where to start. The places where his lips fired up your already burning skin? Or should you have rather chased his fingers with your hips whenever they dared to pull out? Your body short handedly decided to react to all of it, squirming and bucking, arching and squeezing, tugging at hair as you moaned Sam’s name with a certain urgency. “Sam, please-“ “Please what, baby?” He breathed, his own breathing laboured as he licked a fat stripe up your cleavage, up your throat, pressing a needy little kiss to your lips. “Dick- I need your fuckin’ dick-“

You didn’t have to tell Sam twice. He had promised himself to keep it slow, but holy fucking shit. He was hard and he needed you or he was pretty sure he would die. “You sure?” He asked, already fumbling with the waistband of your boxers, heart taking a relieved leap the moment he saw you nod. His dick seemed more than ready to be released, the small wet smack as it hit your stomach only a small testimony of the fact. Sam was panting still as he looked down at you, allowed his eyes to really take you in once more. You didn’t look as untouched as you had before, slobber and hickeys, reddening bitemarks and flushed skin proving him that this wasn’t a dream, that he was really here. He finally allowed himself to slide his fingers out of you, greedy man not even hesitating before they had been slipped into his mouth, throat bobbing and jumping as he suckled them clean with small moans around them. It made your thighs twitch to see him like this, seemingly greedy for you in a way that no man before had been. “You really are perfect,” Sam spoke around his fingers, the wet digits resting on your thigh just moments later.

The blond looked down at you affectionately, small hiss leaving him when he wrapped his fingers around his hard dick, allowing the messy head to slide up and down through your wet folds, hypnotized by the wet sounds such a simple action elicited. Yoba, he had come in here with a crush, and he would leave with you imprinted on his heart and soul – and, to be fair and less romantic, on his dick. “Fuck, Sam, pleaaaase, just fuck me,” you whined again, making him swallow thickly. You really were something, weren’t you? And Yoba, how it melted him. How it melted his heart that you had grown comfortable. No hand covering you up anymore, instead one had found refugee holding on his hair, the other digging into the sheets beneath you. And that was how it should be. How you should feel. Confident to show yourself.

The grind meeting his cock made Sam groan lowly, small chuckle leaving his lips. “Growing impatient, are we?” To be fair, he was, too. So it didn’t come as a surprise that he couldn’t hold back any longer and let the head of his dick finally was lined up with your pretty cunt, Sam’s hips slowly pushing forward.

You gasped for air as you felt him slowly enter you, pushing you open with the thick girth of his dick. Your head fell back into the pillow, hair splayed out around you like a fallen halo. Did you fucking know what you did to Sam? Did you know how down bad you had him for him? Did you fucking know? Because he needed you to. Desperately so. He knew the moment he bottomed out inside of you, the moment he heard that loud, quivering moan – he wouldn’t leave until you would chant about how angelic you were.

“Tell me what you are,” Sam murmured, slowly pulling back your hips. Your eyes met his, orbs clouded with the pleasure of being speared on his dick, and even though his brain was fried enough to be ready to hump into you like a bitch in heat, he could still make out a hint of confusion. “Tell me what you are,” Sam repeated, pushing forward again, taking in how your tits jiggled, how your back arched and how your eyes closed in bliss. “I-I don- aaaah, fuck, Sam!” you gasped, the next thrust making you decide thinking definitely wasn’t worth it. But the blond had other plans. “You,” he began, thrusting forward a little harder, “are,” he hissed with a smack of his hips, “gorgeous,” he almost barked, making your eyes widen, lower lip trembling as you looked in the blue eyes of a man that was serious. “I am-“ There was no chance to finish your sentence, because something had snapped within Sam. His hips began to piston forward, dick drilling inside of your pussy as if he tried to fuck the words he had spoken inside of you. If you had planned on speaking the idea was discarded by now, low moans of Sam’s name leaving your mouth instead, shaky fingers raking down his back to leave some marks of your own. “Fucking beautiful,” Sam repeated between strained huffs, humping at you desperately, “can’t—fuck, your pussy is fucking amazin’, baby—I can’t, fuckshit, I can’t believe you aren’t seein’ this, baby, oohhh Yoba.” The squelching of your cunt was met with the aggressive smacking of the man’s balls as he pounded your cunt, one of his hands finally finding yours to intertwine your fingers. You let it happen, breathlessly moaning Sam’s name as you felt his tip kiss your cervix, forcing your eyes to roll back into your skull. His pierced tip bumped against your walls, your toes curling for him as you squeezed his hand. This wasn’t how you had expected your day to go – but you weren’t complaining. No, because every time you opened your eyes you were met with two pools of blue, clouded over with lust and oh so pussy-drunk, and yet you still always managed to make out the adoration, the earnest and even through a thin veil of tears that had slowly begun forming in your eyes you still knew neither would leave, because Sam’s thrusts made you feel it all.

The bed was creaking in protest to the way your bodies were intertwined, but neither of you could have cared less. Not with how good the both of you felt, not with the much more important things you had at hand. Sam was pretty sure he was on the brink of crying himself – your cunt clenched around him in a way that allowed him to feel every single of your twitches, even the slightest spasm, and he could feel your pussy trying to suck him back in whenever he pulled out just to impale you on his dick again. Your hands were still locked together, and you were sure you would never want to let go, not with how good Sam made you feel. But there it was, that coil in your stomach. Twisting and turning, growing with every damn thrust, with every bump of that smooth piercing against your walls, with every moan that tumbled from your lover’s lips. It became apparent that you wouldn’t last much longer, and given the look on Sam’s face, he wouldn’t either. You allowed your eyes to slip shut, feeling those lips all over your body again. Teeth biting and nibbling your skin, hot breath kissing sweaty skin. A sudden push against your leg forced you into a new position, low moan searing from your throat as you could feel Sam deeper, his thrusts becoming harder, more frantic, desperate, just like how you were feeling. You were teetering on the edge, breath hitching, eyes rolling, your back arching. “That’s it, baby, that’s it, that’s fuckin’ it, cum for me, baby, I can feel you clenching! I know you can, come on, pretty, come on, beautiful girl, cum over my cock, drench me- thaaaaaaat’s iiiiit,” Sam rambled, low laughed groan leaving his lips as he felt your little cunt spasming, your hips bucking and squirming as your orgasm took you. He was so close to bursting himself, thrusts becoming sloppy as he tried his very best to keep it up to take you through your high, but when he saw that look in your eyes, it was over with him. Thick spurts of cum painted your walls white, his cock throbbing against the clench of your walls, the whimper that left Sam high in pitch and pathetic in tone. His quick thrusts had become pathetic little humps, the blond completely whipped by the way your pussy was milking him. He couldn’t let his hips still just yet, needed to keep fucking forward, needed you to feel every inch of his twitchy dick, and you took it. Took it so well with your little twitches and bucks until he finally stilled to a halt.

The room had suddenly become pretty silent aside from heavy panting and the mild rustling of sheets. That was until Sam spoke up again. “Tell me what you are,” he forced between quick breaths, pressing gentle kisses to your face, kisses that silently told you how good you were, how proud he was of you. You smiled blissfully, because this time, you had an answer. “I am beautiful.”

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #sdv sam #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #sdv sam x reader #sdv sam x farmer #sdv sam x reader smut #sdv bachelors #stardew valley sam #stardew valley sam x reader #stardew valley sam x farmer #stardew valley sam smut #SDV Sam #SDV Sam x reader #sdv smut #Sam is a cute bean and loves you

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le-fruit-de-la-passion · 5 months ago

Text

Press One for Love, Two for Regret

Chapter 1

Summary: Proper confessions should never happen over the phone. Viktor knows that. So how did he get here?

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warning: Mature (mentions of explicit content, explicit in the last chapter)

Notes: Prompt suggested by a lovely anon ask and that I absolutely ran away with 💞. I hope you enjoy🌻!!

(Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4/End)

“And another thing-!” you yell through the phone mic.

Viktor does not want to know the other thing.

For the first time in his life, he really wishes you would stop talking right now.

After months of a tumultuous relationship with a guy Viktor didn't believe was worthy of licking the sole of your boots, you had finally chosen to break it off tonight. Part of him (a large part of him if he's being honest with himself) is absolutely delighted at the news. Not only do you deserve so much better than the kind of scumbag who cheats on their partner, he can't help but think, selfishly, that there's a small chance for him to make his way into your heart. A chance to confess how he's felt for years now, how he's felt since the first time you smiled at him, and for you to see him in a new light. Not as a friend, but as a man, deeply, stupidly in love with you.

It's currently very hard to bask in the joy of all that potential because you've been talking over the phone for over two hours about every single thing your now ex-boyfriend had ever done to you.

“-and it's like, I should have known, you should never trust a guy who refuses go down a woman-“

Or hadn't done, in that case.

“Sweetheart, I don't want to say I told you so,” Mel speaks up at the other end of the line, voice firm but comforting, “but I did tell you so.”

“She did tell you,” Jayce pipes up, elbowing him in the arm. Viktor winces quietly and shoots his beaming friend a deadly glare. “Right Viktor?”

He lets out a non-committal mumble.

You've already moved on though, rambling about something else your Romeo had done. It's not like he was going to add anything helpful, anyway.

As soon as you had called him earlier that night, Viktor could tell something was wrong. The slight tremor in your voice, the lightest slurring of your words; you had been crying. He can read you like an open book, and you always come to him for advice whenever you need someone's help. No one else. That trust is something that means the world to him.

A second after he had asked what was wrong, you broke into tears and sobbed your way through a half-inaudible story about someone cheating and a breakup over text. And Viktor, like a coward, had panicked at the idea of discussing your romantic life with his very bothersome feelings getting in the way.

So he went to see his roommate for help, breaking the intimate bond of confidence you usually share together in the hopes of finding someone better qualified at handling the situation.

Which turned out to be an even bigger mistake.

Jayce isn't bad at discussing emotions per se; in fact, he's leagues above Viktor in that department. Where he tends to bottle up his thoughts and stew in them for hours on his own, Jayce will always be up for a talk, no matter the time or topic, that shining smile on his lips.

However, despite this, Jayce is a very poor listener.

His leg has been bouncing up and down for the last hour, like a puppy that needs to go pee outside. He's barely listening, only commenting every now and then, in favour of grinning at him and whispering embarrassing words of what he thinks is encouragement.

“Tell her you'll be there for her!”

“C'mon, say you'll go over to see her!”

“Vik, this is your moment!”

And then, there's Mel.

Because somewhere in the middle of this living nightmare, he thought perhaps a feminine, calm and composed presence like Mel would help you relax. Mel is the perfect listener, always striking that perfect balance between lending an ear and giving solid guidance. Viktor often finds himself wishing he could learn from how well she seems to understand everyone around her.

And yet her addition to the phone call seemingly just made everything worse.

You were definitely already a few drinks in by the time you called him, and now with her there as empathic support, you've lost absolutely all sense of self-restraint.

“And he was so bad with his tongue, did I say that before, Mel? He had no idea what to do with it, just shoving it in my mouth like a worm-”

Viktor is going insane. Hell is really just a never-ending phone call, with the girl you like telling you about sex with her ex.

“Yeah, honey, you did,” Mel sighs, even her otherworldly patience starting to wear thin. He can hear the fatigue in her voice; its close to one AM on a week day. “Maybe you should go to bed for the night, and rest up a little?”

Her extremely wise suggestion falls on deaf ears once again. He's not sure anything could stop your monologue now.

He's usually always so enamoured when you talk about anything. You're always so passionate, full of fire, ready to challenge the status quo and refusing to let anyone's opinion get in your way. It's captivating.

Now, he's mentally arguing the ethics of just pressing the ‘end call’ button to end his suffering.

“I just want someone who'll love me you know?” you drunkenly whine. “Someone who's gonna want to listen to me rant about stupid things. Who's gonna kiss me like it means something. Someone who's actually going to eat me out,” you spit out, clearly still bitter on the topic, “and who's gonna think of me as the only one for them.”

There's a pause, the first one in what feels like hours. You breathe slowly into the mic, only interrupted by a small hiccup. The next words come out quieter, defeated.

“And I don't know anybody who would ever be that person for me.”

Someone speaks up right after that.

“I would.”

And for a second, Viktor really wonders who said that.

Then it registers that that was his voice.

And then the math all adds up in his head, and he realizes it was him.

There's an odd, deafening silence in the room. It's like the pause button on a video has been pressed. For a second, he thinks maybe he's just hallucinated the whole thing.

But then, Jayce smiles at him with one of those handsome, enormous grins of his, and the dread of knowing this is very real sinks in.

“…Sorry, Viktor, what did you say?” you ask, voice no longer shaky.

There are three possible routes to take from here.

He could A., lie and hope you think you misheard him. Not a very likely scenario, because Viktor heard himself say the two cursed words crystal clear. You would call him out instantly.

B., he could hang up, and never talk to you again. Drastic, but a necessary evil. At least he would avoid the embarrassment of ever having to talk to you again. Knowing you, you wouldn't let him off so easily, though.

C., he could be honest. He could tell you he wants to hear you talk about anything and everything, except perhaps your shitty exes. He could tell you he's looked your way for a very, very long time, and that he'd never found the right moment, the right words, to tell you. He could tell you he loves you.

Unfortunately, before he has time to consider his choices and weigh the various pros and cons, Jayce starts answering for him with triumphant laughter:

“Oh my god, Viktor finally said he would-”

“-Would call you back later, yes, goodnight!” he quickly yelps, almost throwing the phone down as he presses the button to end the call. The black screen stares back at him tauntingly.

Meanwhile, Jayce looks at him like he's grown a second head:

“Why did you hang up?!” he protests, picking up the phone and wagging it over Viktor's nose, “This is it! You did it! It's your moment!”

Viktor snatches the phone back, shoving it into his back pocket. Out of sight, out of mind.

“My moment is absolutely not going to happen on the phone, with two other people listening in, while she's ranting about an ex-lover!” he hisses out.

Jayce's expression softens, like he's just now realizing these might not be ideal circumstances. The smartest man Viktor has ever known is somehow also the most dense.

“Maybe she didn't hear,” he adds in a tone that unsuccesfuly tries to be comforting”, “Maybe she heard ‘high wood’, like a… forest of pines?”

Before Viktor can ask how, exactly, a forest of pines of all things would have fit into their conversation, something against his hip vibrates in an awfully familiar pattern.

It's his phone.

“…or maybe not,” Jayce concludes.

#arcane #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor imagine #anon prompt #mine #i am finally posting fics with embellishments. this is truly a day for me.#anon ask #arcane x reader

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branwinged · 27 days ago

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Will you accept a mad dany arc if grrm does it in a different, more sensical way or would that always narratively suck for you?

it has nothing do with my personal feelings regarding the character. i dislike speculation of dany having a downfall arc because it reveals a misreading of the text and the narrative role she plays within it. i don't believe it can be done in a satisfying way because she was always intended to be a heroic character. the 'mad dany' reading relies on certain initial assumptions about her character that are being problematised within the story—which is difficult to discuss because grrm's intent regarding dany is at odds with the orientalist framework he employs in the construction of essos, but i'll try to be comprehensive about it. so dany is an exile, homeless and perpetually seeking a home. she was told by viserys that westeros is "our land" but she's not culturally westerosi the same way the rest of our cast is because she's also never known westeros. all she has are second hand, romanticised accounts from viserys (These places he talked of [...] they were just words to her). dany has lived her entire life in essos and absorbed their cultural norms and slavery is normalised in most of essos (There was no slavery in the free city of Pentos. Nonetheless, they were slaves), it's especially apparent in her first chapter which pointedly draws attention to the various slaves serving at illyrio's manse, something dany doesn't express any moral objection to, because nobody has taught her this is wrong. and that understanding only comes after viserys sells her to drogo and she personally experiences a similar loss of autonomy.

Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I . . . my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid? DAENERYS II, A Storm of Swords

and when mirri reveals to dany that her act of 'saving' her was no saving at all. rescuing her through the offer of a place in drogo's khalasar is a meaningless gesture since it does nothing to address the systems that have enabled mirri's enslavement in the first place. yeah, she's fourteen and possesses no power in her own right and is not complicit in drogo's crimes but mirri's presence in the story is meant to teach her that lesson. dany does not arrive already possessed with a political consciousness that opposes slavery, she learns and reorients her worldview just as jon did once he became familiar with the free folk. this is an important detail because without it her crusade in slaver's bay is no longer a story about a former enslaved and sexually abused girl being provided the means to begin a revolutionary counter-struggle against a culture of dehumanisation, but about a civilising mission where a culturally westerosi (westeros, where slavery is outlawed. westeros which is clearly imagined as the occident to essos's orient) character with superior ideals travels to foreign lands to educate the barbarians—which would've made her a straightforward white saviour figure. this IS undermined by the way her storyline is rife with orientalist tropes and i'm getting to that, but my main point is that dany's character is very deliberately written to be someone who is stateless and doesn't belong anywhere. she is an other. which is compounded by her targaryen heritage—the targaryens are narratively imagined as white enough to co-exist with the rest of westeros but they're also being othered because they're a family originating from the east with 'depraved' inbreeding and blood magic practices (practices that are reviled throughout the whole continent), which simultaneously makes them too other to ever fully assimilate despite the family being culturally westerosi in all the ways that matter. this especially comes through in the coin quote, every house has had occasional despots for rulers but people only bother to pathologise the targaryens and that's because they're foreigners. "the gods flip a coin" is presenting this dichotomy of targaryens as either mad - violent barbarians from the east, or great, in which case they're exoticised as otherworldly, above the laws of gods and men. and the final thing that serves to other her is her association with the dothraki. the dothraki are initially introduced as violent savages, but that view has been challenged since then as dany adopts dothraki customs and comes to love their people as her own and even sees herself as more of a khaleesi than a queen. and i must emphasise that this is no way done well because a) the dothraki are constructed out of offensive stereotypes about steppe cultures b) five books later grrm hasn't bothered to give any of them interiority because he clearly doesn't care about the dothraki, they're an afterthought in his narrative about dany and c) i think the subversion of their introduction as the inferior racial other basically amounts to "they're noble savages".

so you see all this at work when in-universe those who revile her speak of alleged violent tendencies, that she's coming to burn the continent down, that she hatched her dragons through foul blood magic and that she tricked her khal husband into murdering her brother and has acquired an army of savages, that her court is made up of foreigners and 'honourless' westerosi men (jorah, barristan, and soon tyrion), while others talk of her supposed otherworldly beauty ("The last of her line. They say she is the fairest woman in the world.")—the mad dany reading of her is taking all this at face value, it's falling for that in-universe narrative her enemies have come up with, which associates her and her allies' foreignness with moral depravity. (this is also what the show did, which i said "achieved her s8 ending by fully leaning into the horror of the savage oriental horde come to oppress the civilised westerosi landowning class" and that hysterical randyll tarly speech "at least cersei wasn't a FOREIGNER"). a very early example of this is in the first book. robert wanted a teenager dead because she was a targaryen: aerys's daughter, rhaegar's sister, because she married a khal and adopted dothraki customs as her own. and it was ned who put up a fight against this. ned is flawed in my ways but do you suppose the narrative will diminish ned's legacy in this, in his stance against dehumanisation. and asoiaf is primarily about that, every major character has had experience with being othered (cripples, bastards, and broken things is about this) and within this narrative dany is meant to be The Other who is working to end institutions of otherisation. her upcoming invasion of westeros is not playing into the the threat of the foreign invader but raising questions of whether westeros is also in need of some reform (at one point tyrion directly compares a serf to a slave, something that might be narratively painting westeros as not culturally superior at all for having outlawed slavery). the problem, of course, being that the way grrm subverts the image of essos as the inferior racial other is by first populating it with orientalist stereotypes. he parallels some of the violence found in ghiscari culture and the dothraki raid of the lhazareen village with ramsay and amory lorch and gregor clegane et al operating in the riverlands in acok but the ghiscari are also portrayed almost as a monolith, as uniformly morally suspect individuals because our only introduction to them is through the slavers. it's the way dany is the only active abolitionist with a narrative voice in essos (there's the shavepate. but he's also a scheming violent extremist so), i said her story is not a civilising mission but when you fail to give any of the ghiscari oppressed a voice it doesn't result in great optics. and it is undeniable that the story is About Westeros, dany's great narrative destiny lies over there, when the long night arrives—an apocalyptic threat meant to affect the entire world—the battle for the dawn will also take place over there, i doubt the essosi will play a role in that.

#re the dothraki i'll be honest if he couldn't manage to give them interiority in the 15 years between agot and adwd #why would he start now. like. i don't think we're getting anything in twow sorry #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #dany #asks #*[🫀]

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