#and what if i make them kiss in the rain? what if i make this as dramatic as possible? what if i crank up the yearning because the bard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lowkeyerror · 3 days ago

Text

Just Hold Me

Rio Vidal x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Notes: Fluff x 100, comfort x 1 million, very soft

Summary: You had a rough day and Rio wants to comfort you, but she wonders if she's doing enough.

An: The yearly fluff I post after Christmas. Soft as a bunny's tail.

Masterlist

Love was such a strange thing. Tangled up in emotions like hurt, betrayal, and longing, but also bathed in happiness, care, and optimism. It was complex enough with normal people, but you had fallen for Death itself.

Loving Rio was like loving a hurricane. It was wild and even if some things were predictable, you couldn’t always prepare for what was to come. Having a trail of destruction behind her was a part of her job.

It was something she only found shame in when she was with you. She didn’t want you to think that of her. The truth being, that you never could. It was what had drawn you to her in the first place. Death didn’t scare you, not at all. Falling into her embrace felt like destiny. You’d tell her, but Rio was never one for fate, she said if anything it was an omen.

She was so scared of the consequences when it came to being with you. She tried to go against her urges, but you were patient. In her mind you’d forget her and move on with someone more suitable, but you never did. You knew what you wanted and it was her.

There would never be anyone to come close.

Rio was a good girlfriend. She was affectionate, and as attentive as she could be. There were still some things that she was uncertain about when it came to her emotions. After all she had only learned them from her limited experience in other relationships and observing others. She had seen a lot, but that didn’t mean she understood it all.

So when she appeared in your home to find your curled up on the couch, hidden by a blanket, she simply tilted her head to the side before approaching you.

“Love?”

You heard her voice, but felt like you couldn’t move or speak. Instead you let out a soft hum in response. It caught Rio off guard, she was still assessing the situation, but it wasn’t looking good.

She stepped into your point of view, crouching so that she could meet your eyes. She was taken aback by the sadness in them. The bags under your eyes were dark and heavy. Rio pouted seeing the red hues scattered in them.

She reaches out cautiously to hold your face in her hands. Her touch was warm, it made you briefly close your eyes.

“What happened?” Rio’s voice was soft, as if she was scared of pushing.

However you weren’t like the lovers of her past. You wouldn’t push her away, so you took a deep breath trying to muster up your voice.

“Hold me,” you managed to murmur.

Rio was quick to shed her work clothes and create more comfortable attire for the sake of both of you. You briefly sat up on the couch, only enough for the Green Witch to slip behind you. Once she was behind you, you tugged her arm over your body. You held it in place keeping her hold on you tight.

Rio places a delicate kiss on the back of your neck, “I'm not going anywhere."

For a while you stay in that position silently. Neither of you break through the quiet. Rio thinks she’s eventually going to hear your breathing level but it doesn’t.

“Long day,” you mumble against her hand.

“I think I know something about those,” Rio threaded her fingers through yours.

You let out a small laugh, “I bet you do.”

You feel the time shift again. You turn to face Rio who scans over your features again.

“Is there something I can do?”

You see the worry in her eyes and it makes your heart swell. The smallest furrow in her brow, the usual mischief in her eyes is gone, her tone is missing the teasing edge.

“Just this,” you bury your head in the crease of her neck.

You inhale deeply, her scent always grounds you. That specific scent of earth freshly hit with rain. You could get lost in her aroma, it almost makes you feel like you’re outside. You can feel her skin cooling, which only submerges you deeper into the fantasy.

Now both of her hands hold you. She kisses the top of your head. Rio is still uncertain about it she should be doing more for you. This didn't feel like enough. She wanted to destroy whatever it was that made your day so hard. Seeing you in this state was tugging at her heart strings.

She began to trace patterns into your back. You didn't mind, you like having her hands on you, being this close together. It helped you feel safe.

“Are you sure it’s enough,” Rio whispers, insecurities gnawing at her.

You pull back just enough to look at her, “Rio Vidal you’ll always be enough for me.”

Your words knocked the wind right out of her, she felt her face getting warm under your gaze, but she wasn’t trying to hide it from you.

“I’d do anything for you, you know that? Legal or illegal. If I need to go fuck up your boss I will. If I need to pop your annoying coworkers tire, I will. If you needed me to hunt down a Karen I-"

“I know,” you cut her off.

“All of the above?” Rio wriggles her eyebrows playfully.

You move to sit up and she sits beside you.

You rub a hand over your face, “Work was fine, I guess. A few difficult customers, but nothing out of the ordinary. I don’t really know why, but today just felt harder to get through than other days. Nothings wrong, I just feel a little… down.”

Rio listen intently as you speak. When you finish she nods slowly, “I think I know what you need.”

“You do?”

Rio nods with a little more certainty, “Let me cook for us. We’ll order some snacks and pop in a movie. We can keep cuddling too. And tomorrow, I think you should call out. We’ll spend the whole day together, I know all the best parks for walks. How does that sound?”

You let out a sigh of relief, “That sounds perfect. I love you.”

Rio places a gentle kiss on your lips, “I love you too.”

Rio reluctantly begins to stand, but you pull her back down, “Just hold me a bit longer?”

She lays her back flat on the couch and pulls you on top of her, stealing another peck.

“Always.”

#lowkeyerror #rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal imagine

237 notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 2 days ago

Note

Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader? She was with him when both AM's drivers are going to the paddock for media days. And he looks so hot wearing an all white fit. He's doing all sorts of things, like making butterflies in her stomach. With the appearance of all black Lance. Maybe a little suggestive and fluff. Thanks!! :)))

You make me feel - Fernando Alonso x Wife! Reader

Plot: It’s media day, and your husband couldn’t look any sexier …

You’d stayed behind at the hotel having slept in longer than your husband who’d been up since the crack of dawn going for a run around the track before getting ready for the day. You’d taken an extra long shower and more time to get ready, until you basically floated into the paddock.

You hadn’t seen your husband all morning and you were excited to finally see him. You wave at the other drivers you pass that you were familiar with like Lewis and Max before rounding closer to the Aston Martin hospitality.

You make yourself known to the engineers around you, smiling and making conversation with them about today and how they thought it would go.

“Oh, by the way Fernando told us that we should send you too him if we saw you before him!” One of the younger mechanics grins pointing into the glass doors.

“Oh thank you Jay!” You smile before wishing them good luck for the upcoming race and goodbye for now. You make your way through the building sending a hello to everyone who makes your acquaintance.

Eventually you see your husband looking better than ever, he was in a white fit, thanks to his own branding. He had a Kimoa white top on and white karki shorts. When he saw you he immediately found his way over to you.

“Mmmmmm hermosa” he smiles pulling you into him, hugging you tightly.

“How was your morning, you were very sleepy” he grins, holding you at arms length to look over your now bright and awake expression, one very different from your half asleep, grunts and groans as he left you as the sun was just starting to peak its way over the building.

“I had a very good sleep, got to spread out the whole way” you tease looking up at him with a laugh. He laughs with a shake of his head.

“You don’t like me snuggling with you?” He asks, moving a hand to his chest in mock offence. He obviously wasn’t actually offended as he knew you liked to tease him like this often.

“Of course I do. But I do like turning into a starfish?” You grin, and he cocks his head to the side wondering what you are going on about. You attempt to think of the way to explain it in Spanish.

“Mmmm I think it would be estrella de mar?” You explain wondering if there was a more technical word for it.

“Ah yes, you do that even when I’m in the bed though” he chuckles and you gasp.

“I do not!” You say slapping his shoulder lightly.

“But you do, you just … sprawl out over me” he grins pulling you into a quick kiss before a familiar voice interrupts you both.

“Hey guys” Lance’s voice sounds past the loud clinking of coffee cups and plates from the busy hospitality suite.

“Ohhhh my gosh!! My son!! I haven’t seen you in ages” you say pulling him into a hug.

“Ahhh you look so nice! Did Fernando send you those clothes. Kimoa suits you” you grin seeing the branded clothes that he was wearing.

“No, I lost a bet with Daniel, Lando and Fernando that if I lost it I’d have to wear their merch at the next race. Wearing Nando’s today, Daniel’s tomorrow and Landos on Sunday” he laughs.

He looked good in Fernandos merch, as right now they were basically polar opposites. The vision of yin and yang.

“I like it, but aren’t you hot in all black?” You ask looking at the sheen of sweat across his brow that was nearly blocked by his sunglasses.

“A little but hotter in the car, work up that tolerance” he grins before checking his surrounding seeing his sister and running over to pull her into a hug.

You see your husband take two waters from a waitress raining his head to take the drinks a little spilling onto the white shirt. Once he’s done he comes back over handing you the remaining bottle nodding for you to drink it.

Your head cocks to the side.

“It’s a hot day, you gotta keep your hydration up okay?” He nods and you can’t help that swarming feeling in your stomach.

Your husband often gave you butterflies despite having been married for the good portion of 6 years. You always told him that was the best part of your relationship despite you being able to read him like a book, he always managed to have a surprise of two that made you feel like a giddy school girl.

“Thanks, you know you’re the best right?” You smile at him shyly and he looks at you shocked. It wasn’t often that he saw you shy in front of him, but he was always proud when he caught you out like this. So that shocked face slowly turned into a smirk.

“You think so?” He asks and you roll your eyes, a light blush crossing your cheeks as you look up at him.

“You know I do, wouldn’t have married you otherwise” you grit out awkwardly.

“Mmm didn’t tell you that you look beautiful today. Like I don’t even understand how you are my wife” he smiles and you nearly melt. You can’t help but lean up to kiss him.

“I think I’m the lucky one” you say softly and ever so quietly.

“Definitely not. I’m not needed for another few hours, shall we pop back to the hotel room? I think I might need to … change” he grins before pulling you back in for a kiss, taking your hand in his.

“I couldn’t agree more”

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

201 notes · View notes

raekensluver · 13 hours ago

Text

MIDNIGHT RIDES - BIKER!LUIGI MANGIONE x FEM!READER

DESCRIPTION: going on a night ride with luigi is one of your favorite pastimes.

CONTAINS: dangerous acts on a motorcycle, oral (fem receiving), luigi cumming in his pants.

w.c: 2.8k

the neon lights of the city flickered in the puddles from the recent rain shower, casting an eerie glow across the asphalt. the air had the scent of wet concrete and exhaust fumes. you sat snugly behind luigi on his sleek motorcycle, feeling the gentle purr of the engine vibrate through your body. the warmth of his back radiated against your chest as you tightened your arms around his waist, your gloved hands resting just above his hips. the red light loomed over the intersection, a silent guard dictating the flow of traffic.

you couldn't help but let your curiosity wander. your fingertips traced the contours of his muscular thighs beneath his jeans. luigi stiffened slightly, but a soft chuckle rumbled from his chest. "what's going on back there?" he asked without looking back, his voice a low murmur over the engine's hum. you giggled in response, your breath warm against the fabric of his shirt. "just enjoying the ride," you said with a playful smile. the light turned green and he revved the engine, but you didn't pull away. instead, you slid your hands upward, under the hem of his shirt, and onto the firmness of his abs.

luigi's grip tightened on the handlebars, the bike wobbling slightly as you continued your exploration. you felt his stomach muscles tense as your hands roamed higher, reaching the base of his ribs. his breathing grew shallower, a subtle sign of his growing discomfort. "hey," he said, half-laughing, half-serious. "keep that up and we're gonna end up on the sidewalk." the light had turned red again, and the world around you had stilled once more. you leaned in closer, your helmet's visor kissing the back of his neck. "i don't know," you murmured. "i like the view from here."

his cheeks flushed a little beneath the cool evening air, the only indication of his rising temperature. "you're really not making it easy for me to focus, you know," he said, his voice strained. the engine's vibrations grew more pronounced as his heart rate increased. you grinned, feeling a thrill at the effect you had on him. "good," you said, your voice a low purr. "i want all your attention."

you felt his abs tighten as you slid your hands around to his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath the fabric of his jacket. the light changed again, but luigi didn't move. "are we just going to sit here?" you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice. "i thought we had somewhere to be?"

his shoulders relaxed slightly and he sighed. "right, sorry," he said, before turning the throttle and peeling out of the intersection. you gripped his thighs tightly as the bike surged forward, the wind rushing past your ears like a symphony of freedom. the city lights streaked by in a blur of color, reflecting in the puddles like a disco ball had shattered on the street. luigi leaned into the turns, his body moving in sync with the bike, your heart racing to keep up with the rhythm of the engine.

the feeling of his thighs beneath your palms was exhilarating, the power of the motorcycle seemingly transferring to your fingertips. as you gripped tighter, luigi's muscles flexed, responding to the pressure. it was like holding onto a living, breathing creature, one that thrummed with life and strength. each shift in gears sent a jolt of excitement through your body, making you feel more alive than ever before.

you slid your hands up to his biceps, giving them a gentle squeeze. luigi's shoulders hunched slightly, and you felt his tension spike. "you're gonna make me lose control," he warned, but his voice was tinged with amusement. "i trust you," you whispered, nuzzling his neck. your breath was hot, a stark contrast to the cool air rushing past. he chuckled again, the sound low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine.

the city streets grew quieter as you ventured further into the night. the buildings grew taller, their lights casting long shadows that danced with the bike's headlight. the air grew crisper, hinting at the approaching winter. the chill didn't bother you, though, not with luigi's warmth surrounding you. you leaned in closer, pressing your chest against his back, your hands now resting on the tops of his arms. the bike's vibrations grew more intense as he picked up speed, the thrumming a delicious reminder of the power beneath you.

finally, luigi pulled over to the side of the road, the engine sputtering to a halt. the silence was deafening after the constant roar of the motor. you slipped off the bike, your legs wobbly from the adrenaline rush. "what's up?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips as you both pulled off your helmets, letting your hair cascade down your back. he turned to face you, his eyes dark with something unspoken. "i need a break," he said, his voice gruff.

you took a step closer, placing your hand on his arm. "are you okay?" you asked, genuine concern lacing your voice. he took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "yeah," he murmured. "but you're driving me crazy." a soft laugh escaped your lips, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "sorry," you whispered, not really meaning it.

luigi stepped closer, closing the space between you. his eyes searched yours for a moment, before he leaned down and captured your mouth in a fiery kiss. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight against his body. your hands found their way into his hair, the strands damp from the misty night. the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you standing under the flickering streetlight.

his kiss grew more demanding, and you felt your body respond in kind. your heart pounded in your chest, the throb of the engine still resonating in your bones. the coolness of the metal bike frame pressed into your side, a stark contrast to the heat emanating from luigi's embrace. the scent of engine oil mingled with the sweet aroma of his cologne, creating a heady mix that made you dizzy with desire.

finally, he pulled back, his breath coming in short gasps. "behave," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "and i'll give you what you want." his eyes searched yours, a promise and a challenge all rolled into one. you bit your bottom lip, nodding slowly. "okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

without another word, luigi grabbed your helmet from the handlebars and placed it back over your head, the cool plastic a stark contrast to your flushed cheeks. his hands lingered for a moment, adjusting the strap, his fingers brushing against your skin. you felt a sudden thrill at his assertiveness, a side of him you don't see much of. "let's go," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. you climbed back onto the bike, your legs straddling the seat, and wrapped your arms around his waist once more.

the ride back to your townhouse was a blur of neon lights and the occasional streetlamp. luigi's focus was intense, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. every so often, you'd feel his abs tighten against your grip, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that still crackled between you. your hands remained on his thighs, but you didn't push any further, content to simply feel the warmth of his skin through his jeans.

as the bike pulled into the driveway, you felt a sense of anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. luigi killed the engine and swung his leg over the side, helping you off the bike. the moment your feet hit the ground, he turned to face you, his eyes dark and smoldering. without a word, he took your hand and led you up the stairs, the sound of your boots echoing through the quiet night.

once inside, he reached up and unbuckled your helmet, lifting it off with surprising gentleness. you felt a sense of vulnerability without the barrier between you, but also a thrill at the intimacy of the gesture. luigi's eyes never left yours as he placed the helmet on the coat rack by the door. his own helmet followed, the clunk of it hitting the wooden floor echoing through the hallway.

his hand found yours, and he led you to the living room, the warm glow of the lamp casting shadows across the floorboards. the couch beckoned, a cozy sanctuary in the chilly night. without breaking eye contact, luigi sat down, pulling you onto his lap. the heat of his body was like a warm embrace, and you melted into it, feeling your own desire flame brighter with every beat of your heart.

his hands moved to the zipper of your jacket, tugging it down slowly, revealing the soft fabric of your shirt beneath. his fingertips traced the line of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. the air in the room felt thick with unspoken words and unexplored feelings. you leaned in, capturing his mouth in another kiss, this one slower, deeper. your tongues danced together, a silent conversation that spoke of passion and yearning.

luigi's hands grew more confident, slipping beneath the material of your shirt to caress your bare skin. the touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through your body. with a sudden decisiveness, he pulled the shirt over your head, breaking the kiss just long enough to discard it onto the floor. his eyes roamed over your torso, drinking in the sight of your curves, your skin flushed from the cold and excitement.

his hands moved to the laces of your boots, deftly untying them and tugging them off one by one. the feel of his warm, calloused hands against your ankles was heavenly, sending a thrill up your legs. you shivered slightly, and he looked up with a question in his eyes. "are you cold?" he murmured, his voice thick with want. "no," you replied, your voice a whisper. "i just want you."

his gaze held yours for a moment longer before dropping to your waist, where his hands began to work on the button of your jeans. the denim felt tight, constricting, as if the fabric itself was eager to be removed. with a pop, the button was freed, and luigi slid the zipper down with torturous slowness. the anticipation was palpable, a silent crescendo building between the two of you.

once your jeans were undone, luigi's hands slid inside, cupping your hips, his thumbs teasing the sensitive skin of your stomach. your breath hitched as he began to peel the fabric down, exposing your legs to the cool air. his eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. you could see the desire in his eyes, the hunger that matched your own.

his hands moved to your back, unclasping your bra with a practiced ease that spoke of familiarity. it slipped off your shoulders, and you shrugged it away, feeling the weight of it fall away. your breasts pressed against his chest, the fabric of his shirt a thin barrier to the warmth of his skin. his thumbs grazed your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. you gasped, arching into his touch.

his hands moved to the waistband of your underwear, hooking his fingers into the fabric and pulling it down with your jeans. your legs were bare now, the soft skin of your thighs exposed to the cool air. luigi's eyes never left yours as he removed the last of your clothing, his gaze a mix of desire and something else, something deeper that made you quiver.

he slid you off his lap, standing in front of you as you stepped out of your jeans and underwear. your legs felt wobbly, but you didn't need to stand for long. with a gentle tug, he guided you back onto the couch, this time with your legs spread wide open for him. the fabric of the couch was rough against the back of your thighs, but it was a delicious contrast to the softness of the cushions beneath you.

luigi knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours. his hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his palms sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. slowly, so achingly slowly, he leaned forward, his breath hot against your skin. you felt his nose nuzzle the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh before his lips followed, placing a soft, lingering kiss just above your knee. your body quivered in response, your heart racing with anticipation.

his kisses grew bolder, moving upward, each one sending a shiver through your core. the anticipation was almost too much to bear as he approached your center. when his mouth finally found your clit, it was like a bolt of lightning had struck you. the sensation was intense, the gentle pressure of his lips against the sensitive bud sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. you moaned, your hips bucking upward involuntarily.

his nose rested against your clit as he explored you with his tongue, delving into your folds with a hunger that left you breathless. the warmth of his breath was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. your fingernails dug into the couch cushions as he lapped at you, the rhythm of his movements matching the pounding of your pulse. your eyes rolled back in your head, lost in the symphony of sensation.

his hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he worked his magic. you felt your body begin to tighten, the tension coiling like a spring deep within you. your breathing grew ragged, your chest heaving with every gasp. "luigi," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. he responded by increasing his pace, his tongue flicking against your clit with an expert touch that had you seeing stars.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smoldering intensity in their depths. you could see his own desire mirrored in the dark orbs, his own need growing with every passing moment. and then, as if unable to resist any longer, luigi's body tensed, and he ground his hips against the couch cushions. you watched, mesmerized, as he gave in to the pleasure you were giving him, his own need evident in the way he moved.

his teeth gritted as he fought for control, his eyes never leaving yours. the fabric of his pants grew tight against his erection, the outline clear and unmistakable. the friction from the couch cushions must have been driving him wild, because you could see his body strain with each movement, his thighs flexing as he sought release. the sight of him like this, so raw and unbridled, only served to stoke your own passion.

you reached down, your hand sliding over his shoulder to the back of his head, urging him closer, your legs shaking. "yes," you panted, the word barely audible. "just like that." luigi's eyes darkened, and he took the hint, his mouth working more fervently against your clit, his tongue swirling in a pattern that had you teetering on the edge. your toes curled, the tension in your body reaching a crescendo that threatened to shatter you.

suddenly, it was too much, and you were falling, the world around you dissolving into a sea of white-hot pleasure. your nails dug into his shoulders, your hips bucking against his mouth as you cried out his name. the orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you boneless and trembling. luigi didn't stop, though, continuing to kiss and nip at your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last bit of ecstasy until you were a puddle of satisfaction.

as the spasms of pleasure began to subside, you felt a shift in his posture. his breathing grew more ragged, and his grip on your thighs tightened. then, it happened. a muffled groan vibrated against your skin as luigi's body tensed, his hips jerking. you watched with a mix of fascination and desire as he came in his pants, the fabric straining against his erection. the sight of him losing control was more intoxicating than any alcohol could ever be.

his eyes snapped shut, and he remained there for a moment, his forehead resting against your thighs. his chest heaved with each ragged breath, the sound a testament to his restraint. finally, he sat back on his heels, his eyes opening to meet yours. "i'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with passion and regret. "i couldn't… i just needed…"

you reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. "it's okay," you assured him, your voice soft. "i liked watching you." a hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes searching yours. the air between you was charged with something unspoken, a silent understanding.

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione smut #uhc shooter #luigi mangione x reader #uhc assassin #real person fiction #rpf #luigi mangione fanfic #deny defend depose #luigi mangione blurb

113 notes · View notes

the-oblivious-writer · 7 hours ago

Text

A Loving Distraction

Wednesday Addams x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Wednesday attempts what’s meant to be a “study” session, but being the distraction you are, you had other plans in mind.

Warning(s): kissing, established relationship, and no pronouns

Notes: dedicated to @101rizzlrr - ask and I shall deliver

You stare at your phone, thumb hovering over the text you're about to send to Wednesday. The message reads: "Meet me in the library? Promise to actually study this time."

The memory of your last "study session" brings a smile to your face. You'd spent more time debating the merits of different torture methods throughout history than actually reviewing for finals. Not that you minded - Wednesday's passionate defense of the rack over the iron maiden had been oddly endearing.

Your phone buzzes with her reply: "Bold of you to imply I was the distraction last time. But fine. West wing, third floor. Don't be late."

Twenty minutes later, you're climbing the worn stone steps of Nevermore Academy's library. The afternoon light filters through the Gothic windows, casting long shadows across the floor. You spot Wednesday at her usual table, surrounded by a fortress of leather-bound books. She's wearing her signature black dress, white collar crisp and perfect despite the late hour.

"You're four minutes late," she says without looking up from her notes.

"I brought a peace offering." You place a steaming cup of black coffee - no sugar, no cream - next to her elbow. "And I was delayed by Principal Weems giving her weekly lecture about proper uniform length to some poor first year."

"Excuses." But she takes the coffee, and you catch the slight softening around her eyes that passes for a smile in Wednesday's world. "I assume you're here because you're still struggling with Advanced Poisons?"

You slide into the chair across from her, pulling out your own textbook. "Some of us didn't grow up taste-testing deadly nightshade."

"Your loss. Mother always said it builds character." She reaches for your notebook, scanning your latest attempts at categorizing toxic fungi. "Your classification system is almost painfully wrong. Look at this - you've put death caps under 'slow-acting.' They can kill within 48 hours."

"Not everyone shares your enthusiasm for mortality rates," you tease, leaning closer to see where she's marking corrections in precise red ink. Her hair smells faintly of rain and graveyard dirt - a scent you've come to associate with comfort, oddly enough.

"Clearly. Which is why you need my help." She pauses, dark eyes flickering to yours. "Though I suppose there are worse ways to spend an afternoon than ensuring you don't accidentally poison yourself with basic mushroom identification."

"Aw, you do care."

"Don't be ridiculous." But her knee bumps yours under the table, and stays there.

The next hour passes in a comfortable rhythm of studying and bickering. Wednesday corrects your work with cutting efficiency, while you try to distract her by suggesting increasingly outlandish uses for non-lethal poisons. ("Think about it - just enough to make the entire school board mildly nauseated during budget meetings.")

"Focus," she chides, but there's amusement lurking in her voice. "Unless you want to explain to your parents why you failed this semester."

"They'd understand. I'd just tell them I was distracted by my brilliant, beautiful girlfriend who happens to be a walking encyclopedia of death."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." She turns a page with deliberate precision. "And that's not even close to my most impressive quality."

You lean forward, resting your chin on your hand. "Oh? Do tell."

"I can name at least fifteen ways to incapacitate someone with items found in this library alone." Her eyes meet yours, challenging. "Would you like a demonstration?"

"Tempting, but I think the librarian is still mad about last time." You reach across the table, fingers brushing her wrist. "Besides, I can think of better uses for our time."

Wednesday arches an eyebrow. "Can you now?"

The tension shifts, electric and familiar. You stand slowly, walking around the table until you're beside her chair. She turns to face you, expression unreadable but for the slight catch in her breath when you lean down.

"Much better uses," you murmur, and then you're kissing her. Her lips are cool against yours, tasting of coffee and secrets. One of her hands finds its way to your collar, pulling you closer with that controlled intensity that is so uniquely Wednesday.

You break apart at the sound of footsteps approaching, though you don't go far. Wednesday's normally pale cheeks have the faintest hint of color, and you can't help feeling a bit smug about that.

"That was…" she starts.

"Distracting?" you offer with a grin.

"Entirely inappropriate for a study session." But she's fighting a smile now, the real kind that makes her look almost human. "We have an exam tomorrow."

"True." You brush a strand of dark hair from her face. "But I'd argue that was an excellent practical demonstration of biological responses to stimuli."

Wednesday rolls her eyes, but she's definitely smiling now. "Your scientific method needs work."

"Then I suppose we'll need more practice." You gesture to the towering shelves around you. "We have the whole library."

"You're impossible." She stands, gathering her books with precise movements. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To find somewhere more private for your… research." She gives you a look that makes your heart skip. "Unless you'd rather stay here and actually study?"

You grab your bag, already following her toward the stacks. "Lead the way."

-----------

A/N: nice little one-shot before I post more angst

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams

96 notes · View notes

imagineiwrotesomethingwell · 2 days ago

Text

Cold

Jegulus drabble. wc: 1389

It’s cold here. James is warm, but the room is cold, so Regulus doesn’t want to move. He just tucks his head under James’ chin, breathing in their scent with a dreamy sigh. It smells like it rained last night, too, which explains the cold, because Merlin knows neither him nor James remembered to close the window.

“Papa,” a little voice says, and Reg sighs, lifting his head from his husband’s shoulder.

“Harry, come here,” he says quietly, lifting the blanket for the little boy to climb into. He giggles as he does, little hands clenching in the sheets as he pulls himself up under the comforter. He snuggles right up between his two dads, his head replacing Reg’s spot under James’ jaw. Regulus doesn’t mind, though, because now he can bury his face in Harry’s curls.

Harry smells like sunshine and milk and honey, which Regulus always thought was strange. He’s a kid; shouldn’t he smell like glue and mud and diapers? He’s meant to be sticky and smelly and weird. But no. The little one always smells like sweet things, safety and comfort, just like his dad. James always smells like wood and cinnamon and vanilla, and there’s nothing Reggie loves more than holding his son and his husband at once, breathing them in and feeling them. Here and real and loved and safe and warm.

Harry’s already asleep again, his chubby brown hands fisted in Regulus’ shirt. His lips are parted in a soft ‘o’ as he snores, the perfect picture of beautiful innocence. James is drooling into their own curls as they snore, their glasses discarded beside their pillow, because god forbid they take their glasses off before they fall asleep.

So Regulus just watches.

He props his head on his hand and his elbow on his pillow, staring down at the two people he loves most in the world. The sun is painting their skin gold and their curls seem to glow against their pillows, and Reg knows that when one of them opens their eyes, those’ll glow, too, turning that honeyed shade that takes his breath away every time he sees it. And as he watches them sleep, occasionally brushing his fingers through Harry or James’ curls, he thinks.

He thinks about Hogwarts, when he’d accidentally ran into James as he rushed off the train because he was chasing Barty. He thinks about James’ outstretched hand, their dazzling smile as they asked if he was okay as they pulled him off the damp cobblestone. He thinks about Barty and Evan teasing him mercilessly in the dorm because someone had said the words “James Potter” at dinner and Reg had blushed.

He thinks about the first time they ever kissed, when Reg was in 4th year and James was in 5th, when Reg had caught a snitch and utterly destroyed Gryffindor, but James had gay panicked too much to care and had grabbed Regulus by the waist the second they’d hit the ground. He thinks about how their lips tasted, about the way he’d melted so perfectly against them, how he’d never kissed anyone before that and he didn’t know what he was doing, but James didn’t seem to care. He thinks about their goofy grin when they pulled away, how they’d pecked his nose before running off to join the rest of the Gryffindor and get cleaned up. He thinks about how he’d found them again after dinner and crashed his lips to theirs, just kissing them as he kept his back against a wall so his knees wouldn’t give out, about how they never really stopped kissing after that.

He thinks about when James proposed, the day Regulus had graduated Hogwarts. In front of Sirius and his parents and everyone they’d ever known, James had gotten down on one knee and asked Regulus to marry them, to make them the happiest man alive. He thinks about how he’d cried and held James tighter than he thought he ever could, just whispering, “yes, I love you, I love you, yes,” over and over again for Merlin knows how long. He thinks about the wedding, small and kind and gentle, filled with the people who loved them and 80s punk rock, courtesy of Sirius and Remus deejaying.

He thinks about the times when he and James had danced in the rain, stopped on drives to collect flowers from the side of the road, about the countless times they’d woken up tangled together. He thinks about the way James had sobbed when Lily had shown up with a sign that said, “your baby on board!” after their first try with implanted embryos. Regulus had cried, too, of course, but he liked to remember the look on James’ face when they realized they were about to be a father.

He thinks about the nights spent pouring over baby books when Lily was pregnant with Harry. He thinks about his brother crying when he and Remus had met Harry for the first time, holding and rocking him and telling him stories he’d repeat a thousand more times before Harry remembered any of them. He thinks about Remus sitting on the bed by Lily for hours as she recovered, how they’d all camped in her room for as long as the hospital would let them to talk and be there for her and Harry as she recovered from labor and he recovered from being born (such a horrific practice, from what Reg saw).

He thinks about the childhood he never had, about how grateful he is to give Harry this comfort, this safety he never had. About how Harry’s never acted afraid of him, or of James, how he’s always said he loved them before bed and how he’s always been comfortable with hugs and cuddles. He thinks about how incredible it is to be a father, to be in charge of a whole human, to just exist in the same time as this exquisite creature who called him Papa.

He thinks a lot. Too much, probably. Because he almost doesn’t notice when James’ eyes flutter open, eyes gold in the morning sun. They smile gently, their eyes locking onto Regulus’.

“You’re so beautiful,” Regulus whispers, leaning forward to kiss his husband, careful not to jostle the child against his chest. It’s a sweet, gentle kiss, one that has Reggie’s eyes fluttering shut and his heart welling in his chest. But he pulls away and smiles down at James, brushing a curl off of his forehead.

“Reg,” James whispers, nuzzling into their love’s hand. “Wake up, Reg.”

Regulus’ smile falters. “What was that, cheri?” he asks softly, leaning closer to James, trying to hear. Man, it’s really cold in here. He needs to pull his blanket back up, it must have slipped down when Harry-

“Wake up,” James says again, their voice forceful and firm. “Wake up now.”

Regulus flinches at the cold tone, one he’s never heard before, not from James. His eyes close briefly, but once they open again, James is gone. Harry is gone. Everything’s cold, and everything burns, and he can’t breathe.

As Regulus feels the Inferi gripping his legs, clawing at him, dragging him down under the water, he stops thinking; he remembers. He remembers everything.

He remembers fighting with James his last year at Hogwarts, when he should have been studying and being a child for a little while longer, but his parents had different plans. He remembers James leaving him, saying they couldn’t be with someone who would take the dark mark, telling him they’d thought he was different. He remembers seeing them with their head in Evans’ lap not three weeks later, how that had hurt more than any ‘Crucio’ his mother had ever used on him. He remembers finding out about the Horcruxes. He remembers hunting down the locket. He remembers finding the cave and drinking the poison.

And as he stops thrashing, stops fighting, lets the water and the monsters take him, he remembers the way James had looked when they backed away from him in the astronomy tower that night, heartbreak and tears in their eyes. The way their voice had cracked when they whispered, “I can’t love a monster, Regulus.”

That’s okay, Regulus thinks as he lets the air escape his lungs. I’ll love you anyway.

thank you @calamitoustide for the idea with this post. i hate you /affectionate

112 notes · View notes

fleuryuns · 3 days ago

Text

presenting a fic by @FLEURYUNS

as the earth burns to the ground,

lay here with me

IN WHICH it takes an asteroid hurdling toward earth for you and jay to be pulled apart, and then brought back together—but it's worth it

PAIRING ⟡ wealthy (ex)bf!jay x scientist!femreader

UNIVERSE ⨯ end of the world au

WARNINGS ⟡ inspired by as the world caves in by matt maltese, exes to lovers, arguments, some platonic!jake thrown in there, ambiguous ending, elements from the movie don't look up, inaccurate portrayal of astrophysics and high school debate clubs

WORD COUNT ⨯ 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . starting again with the first fic i ever posted!!

"It's a silly rumour!" he said, exasperatedly.

You told him, "A rumour?! We've estimated its trajectory, analyzed dozens of possible routes, calculated probabilities... You can't deny the research, Jay!"

It was hard to believe that your relationship had come down to this. Had come down because of this.

You and Jay met during a high school debate tournament. His school had been reigning champions for years, until you joined your school's team and beat them. Jay was both annoyed, but impressed by your quips and arguments. He caught up with you after the match, and the rest is history.

High school sweethearts from rivalling schools, a true Romeo and Juliet reenactment.

The two of you went on to attend the same university in different programs. You—garnering a PhD in mathematics and physics, in order to pursue your lifelong dream of becoming an astrophysicist. Meanwhile, Jay went into marketing to one day take on the family business.

Although pursuing very different paths, you always came together at the end of the day. You'd often stay over at his apartment, large as it was, and watch movies together, cook new recipes he thought you'd like, whatever it is you both wanted to do, as a pair. Soon after graduation, you officially moved in with him.

Of course, you weren't perfect. You argued, you disagreed. There were a few significant arguments that led to you slamming the door on your way out.

But it always came down to how you first met. A good debate, a good argument, happens only when both sides respect each other, and don't let their emotions take on the best of them.

So, after every argument, you or he would call the other to apologize. Or, you'd wake up the next morning with a bouquet of roses with a handwritten note attached to it. Or, instead, you'd walk over to his place in the pouring rain, asking for forgiveness.

What brought you two together, however, eventually became what tore you apart.

During debates, Jay prioritized feelings over facts, in the sense that he would take on logical, everyday thinking to tackle the problem, usually winning over his opponents because they often lacked realism. You, on the other hand, gathered the facts and tackled the issue head on. In that way, you balanced each other out.

In another way, neither of you truly ever saw eye to eye.

You just didn't see it until word of an asteroid heading toward Earth came around.

You were ecstatic to be the one to discover the asteroid. At the time, its trajectory seemed to be close enough to Earth that it would be seen by an average telescope on the night it passes by.

"And my name will be on every article talking about it," you told him, wearing a proud smile.

Jay looked at you sweetly as you went into depth, ways that he certainly didn't understand fully, but he still listened intently because he knew it mattered to you.

Then, with further research, you discovered that you wouldn't even need any equipment to see the asteroid fly by.

"We could make a date out of it," he suggested. "When is it passing Earth?"

You continued to stir the pasta, humming at his words. "In about three months," you clarified.

You yelped when you suddenly felt his arms wrap around you. Leaning your head back comfortably onto his shoulder, you let him give you a short kiss. "Maybe we could invite the gang and set up a get together on the building's roof?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Within weeks, the morning tabloids were filled with new information revealed about the asteroid that you and your team discovered. Threads of information were shared on social media, and your name was attached to it everywhere. You felt a sense of pride whenever you checked your phone in the morning, scrolling through dozens to hundreds of comments congratulating you on your discoveries.

One morning, you woke up to a new headline greeting you:

Asteroid Heading Toward Earth: Here Is How To Prepare.

"Huh," you asked yourself, sitting up on your elbow to scroll through the article. You read some more and discovered there were more calculations done overnight by the rest of the team after you left earlier the night before, calculations proving a change in direction.

It was then that you noticed the seven missed calls from your team members. You mentally cursed yourself for being a heavy sleeper.

You quickly called the team leader first, and they barely greeted you before asking you to come to the lab.

"What's the hurry?" Jay asked from the kitchen. You rushed behind him to place a chaste kiss to his cheek, heading to the door to slip on your shoes, with your bag almost falling from your shoulder in the process. "I'm making pancakes."

"Check the tabloids. It's bad."

He frowned. "Yeah, I saw," he said with an unreadable expression. For a situation so serious, his voice seemed to toe the line of mockery too closely. "There's no way it's real, love, don't worry about it."

You stopped in your tracks with your hand still on the handle. "Sorry?"

"Are you serious? An asteroid heading toward Earth?" He raised his eyebrows. "C'mon, we're not in a movie."

"This is serious..." you told him slowly. "Just 'cause it's the first time something like this has happened, doesn't mean it's not real—" You shook your head. "—Look, I have to go. I can tell you about it tonight."

And, sure enough, you spent the day proving the team's theories from the evening. The asteroid was surely coming toward Earth, in approximately nine weeks. At that moment, you weren't able to estimate the true extent of the damage that it would bring, but it would be bad, you knew that well enough.

Jay didn't.

"Don't be ridiculous, Y/N," he said.

You had to take a step back, close your eyes and take a deep breath to make sure you didn't scream. "You don't trust me." The statement was short, but garnered a large reaction.

"Excuse me?"

"That's what you're saying," you explained. "You don't believe my research. I can show you my notes, I can call the team leader for confirmation. Yet, you don't believe me."

He scoffed at you. Looking around, Jay sputtered out half-finished words, taken aback by your confrontation. "I trust you, Y/N, I just—"

"Just what?!" you interrupt, throwing your hands in frustration.

"Park Enterprises has already disproved it."

You wait for him to continue, but he looks at you as if that was enough explanation.

Out of pure disbelief, you let out a half-breathed laugh. "No, this is ridiculous," you throw his own statement back at him. Classically using his own words to turn the tables.

"My father's team has been tracking that exact same comet you're all after, and their studies show that it won't be coming near Earth, not by ages." It was unbelievable the absolute lack of hesitance in his voice. The confidence, which used to draw you into his arguments, repulsed you. "They have better funds for their research, it's much more developed."

This had you looking around for an audience, waiting to hear the laugh track in the background because his speech was straight out of a comedy. "You rather believe people who are solely in it for the money, people who completely disgrace their PhDs and the professors who taught them. Jay, we've laughed at them together because we both agreed they'd agree the Earth was flat if they were offered a large enough check!"

"Well, at least what they're saying now is much more realistic! Your studies don't even make sense."

"So, the date?" you ask him. "What–What was that about?"

He laughed. Laughed. "Obviously I'd take any excuse to spend time with you, love. Sure, you'd be disappointed that we didn't see anything, but I figured the night itself would've gone so well that it wouldn't have even mattered." He shrugged at the end of the words, clearly thinking that it was a given.

"I need you to leave," you told him slowly. You no longer had the energy to deal with a baseless argument. Surely you could get to him, just not then. "I need to be alone. Please."

And with that, he left.

Only a few text conversations were shared after your argument. Neither of you came forward to settle what had happened, talk it out.

Two months went by. Not seeing each other again, nor speaking in all the time that passed by.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

You look over your notes again, brows furrowed in concentration. Trying not to get distracted by the ticking of the clock, or your desk-neighbour sighing every few minutes, you scramble to find a sheet of paper you surely misplaced—because there's no way, no way that this is all you have. If it is....

Jake leans back in his chair and exhales loudly, and suddenly all hell breaks loose. "No way, no way..." you mumble over and over. "Shit! This can't be happening!"

He looks over at you in concern. You also start to hear the other scientists pushing back their own chairs, some turning around to look at what you're seeing. "Y/N? Everything okay?"

Wordlessly, or rather without any intelligible words shared, you turn your computer screen to his direction and hand him your papers.

Jake studies the notes quietly, looking up every once in a while to analyze the images and graphs from the screen to compare. Your hand instinctively comes up to your chest, trying to settle your heartbeat, if it's even possible. "Is this...." He doesn't finish. He understands.

You nod at him. Tears well up in your eyes.

"We'll send them up to Dr. Lee, and get his team to confirm everything," he eventually responds. His voice is clear, despite his own tears spilling. The other scientists come closer, leaning over Jake's shoulder, all reading until everyone is in the loop of what's going on—what's going to happen. He turns to them too. "In the meantime, we'll all go home. Spend time with your loved ones." It goes without saying that this is the last time everyone will be seeing each other.

Saying goodbye to the members of your research team is bittersweet, you learn.

Despite the pride you feel looking at them, considering everything you've learned and discovered together, it pulls at your heartstrings for it to come down to this. You almost wish you had never pursued this career path, wish you weren't even smart enough to come to these conclusions.

You hug Jake tightly at last. He's the one you've always been closest to, after all. "Thank you," he tells you, your face buried in his shoulder and finally letting the tears fall freely, since everyone else is gone. "For everything."

"You too," is all you say.

You hold onto each other for a few moments more when a pit forms in your stomach. Something different than the gnawing fear of knowing the end is near.

No, this is different.

Regret, you realize. Regret, with a mix of guilt.

You pull away from your coworker, a shaky smile on your lips that can't quite reach your eyes. "I have to go." And despite the ache of never seeing him again, you turn away from Jake for the last time and rush out of the building to your car.

As you're pulling out of the parking lot, soft melodies play from the speakers. You recognize the beat instantly.

My feet are aching and your back is pretty tired;

You resist the urge to pull to a stop and just let your eyes shut as you listen to the familiar tune. It'd be nice, but no. You know you have somewhere to be, and the radio coincidentally playing your—and his—song is only more proof that you need to do this.

And we've drunk a couple bottles, babe, and set our grief aside;

Driving down a road you've been through dozens of times brings up many old memories. You remember the first time Jay brought you to his parents' house, nervously fidgeting with your dress from the passenger's seat. He noticed immediately and placed his hand reassuringly on your thigh, risking taking his eyes off the road for a moment to meet with your eyes and ask silently: "Are you okay?"

You told him you were just fine, and that wasn't a lie.

The papers say it's doomsday, the button has been pressed;

Your phone buzzes from the compartment. Sparing a glance, you notice an alert glaring back at you, probably something along the lines of "Take immediate cover. Do not go outside. Protect yourselves."

The radio cuts out, nearly at the same time. The same announcement rings in your ears, so you swiftly turn down the volume and lean back into your seat.

You look through your blind spot for clear roads, and press the pedal harder.

We're gonna nuke each other up, boys, till old Satan stands impressed;

The nerves that have settled in the pit of your stomach ironically dissipate into a new wave of nostalgia instead as you pull onto the street, seeing the grand Park household in the distance.

Happy memories, although bittersweet, flood your mind, and you realize how grateful you are for having them.

At last, you make it to their driveway, relief washing over you when you see Jay's car parked right in front of yours. Clearly, he hasn't been staying at the apartment with you over the past couple months, so you just assumed he'd been staying at his parents' house during your time apart.

You know him well.

Walking up to the doorstep brings back a tremble to your limbs. You reach out with a shaky hand to the doorbell, ringing it once. Twice. And thrice—Like you always have.

It takes all but a moment for the door to open, when your eyes meet for the first time in forever.

"Y/N..."

And here it is, our final night alive;

It's been so long.

You could never forget what he looked like, not with his face still waking you up every morning on your phone screen. But still, seeing him in person again leaves you stunned.

"Hi." You hate the way your voice shakes on the syllable, but you conceal it with a nervous smile.

He doesn't look angry. If anything, he's surprised. Maybe even happy, if the way the corners of his mouth come up when you greet him says anything.

"Y/N," he repeats, disbelief leaking from his tone. "You're... here."

"I missed you," you say at the same time.

You share a quiet laugh before he steps aside and motions for you to come in. You follow him without hesitation.

Taking in his comfortably familiar scent that filters the air, you instinctively close your eyes when you make your way into the living room. You notice Jay doesn't sit down next to you on the couch immediately, so you awkwardly open one eye in a squint to find him standing across from you, with a small smile on his lips.

"What're you looking at?" you ask him with a teasing lilt.

"What are you doing here?"

"Have you checked the news?" Technically, you haven't either. But you know by now, from the announcement on your phone and the radio, it'll be all over every channel.

You watch Jay frown curiously and turn on the television. You're both welcomed with a pre-recorded video—as stated in the top right corner—of a newscaster anxiously fidgeting with her cue cards.

"—comet found and followed by a local research team associated with the Seoul National University is indeed heading toward Earth at a concerningly rapid rate." She pauses, looking over her notes and taking a breath. You can't imagine how it is to hear this news when you've been falsely led by the media for so long. "Park Entreprises have released a statement confirming their calculations."

You watch the colour drain from Jay's face.

"We have approximately seven hours before the asteroid collides with Earth, and causes severe to irreparable damage to the planet and all living organisms." A tear rolls down her cheek, she can no longer hold character. You notice the clip cut, before coming back, with the woman looking significantly more distraught; red in the face, tears staining her cheeks. "Please, everyone, spend this time with your loved ones. Stay safe. This has been Channel—"

Click. Jay shuts it off.

He stands in silence, staring at the blank screen. You watch him run his hand over his mouth anxiously, resisting the urge to get up and hold him.

"So... What—What does this mean?"

"The asteroid is much larger than we predicted, which means we gravely underestimated its speed." You keep your head down and voice low. You've been in this situation before and although you hate to admit it, you're afraid it won't be any different from the last time. "We thought we had at least another week before it came within radar, and with the size we had believed it was, it would've done damage, but nothing too extreme. We were wrong."

"And now we have roughly, what, seven hours before we..." He doesn't need to finish. You nod.

He runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" You think you misheard him.

Jay makes his way toward you, situating himself comfortably on the couch and turning to take your hands in his own. "I said some pretty messed up things that I no longer stand by. I should've let you talk, and I should've had the decency to listen and, at the very least, try to understand."

It's nice, you discern. Hearing what you've been wanting to hear for months. "Thank you," is all you can think to say because, well, what else is there to say?

"I think I've known that my dad's team was hiding something, or purposefully miscalculating, but I chose to ignore it," he admits. "I was scared. Fuck, I'm still scared."

"Understandably, there's a literal asteroid headed towards Earth!"

You both laugh in agreement.

"I know it's probably way too late to ask you this considering we won't be alive by tomorrow, but can we please spend these last hours together as a couple?"

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend," you tease. "Again?"

"Yes, Y/N." He rolls his eyes, but he isn't annoyed. You feel your heart pull at its strings when you see the familiar smile spread across his face again, something you haven't seen in a long time. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Of course."

You spend the first few hours helping him out in the kitchen. Jay explains that he's been there all day preparing a big meal for the family, as a surprise because they hadn't spent much time together as of late. It's much clearer to him why.

Together, you make a mess of the place. Not much with Jay's help, no. He's always been the better cook of the relationship. Clearly everyone has their specialities. You—in astrophysics and having the balls in the relationship, and him in the kitchen and being utterly stupid sometimes.

"So, is your dad coming over?" You toss a grape into your mouth, sitting on the counter top after giving up on actually helping. "He probably has some kind of vendetta against me, or something. At least I do."

Jay gives you a look.

"What," you draw out exaggeratedly. "We're scientific enemies. It's textbook betrayal."

"No, he won't be," Jay assures you. "I was hoping to make a meal for him and Mom, but one of their messengers told me they were leaving for a business trip tonight. Looks like that isn't gonna end well."

You frown. "I'm sorry..."

He shrugs it off and waves his hand. "No, no, don't be. I think I'd flip at him if I saw him, and I'd rather not spend my last moments in a screaming match with my father." He quickly washes his hands in the sink before wiping them against his apron to dry them off. "Besides, I'm here with you, and that's all that matters."

If you let a smile escape you, that's for no one to know.

The oven makes a ding! which prompts you to hop off the counter, Jay swiftly catching your movement and letting you fall into his arms. You laugh as you notice his dirty hand hovering over your body to not touch your clothes.

"Do you want to help me plate this?"

As expected, the meal is delicious. Even the burnt edges caused by your excess lathering of butter were more than salvageable. It's nothing like a grand meal at a three Michelin star restaurant, but it's damn near close enough.

You furrow your brows as you take another bite—you can't help looking angry when the food tastes good!

Jay notices. "You like it?" he asks, but not genuinely. His smile hints that he already knows.

You simply hum in response.

The rest of the meal passes by in comfortable silence. Comfortable as either of you can be.

There's some tension in the air. A mix of fear, worry, maybe even curiosity.

How else are you meant to feel on your final night alive?

Once both your plates are cleared, Jay's quick to reach and grab the dishes. You follow him to the sink with whatever else he couldn't hold and help him wash them.

You watch him thoroughly scrub at a plate that's already spotless. You don't interrupt him.

In the meantime, you clear the table. Push the chairs. Rearrange the center piece. Even take out the broom and start sweeping the main floor.

You're not sure why. It's not like it really matters. All of this will be whipped out in a few hours.

A shiver runs down your back, and you decide that you're finished cleaning.

"You wanna watch a movie?"

You settle yourselves in his bed once the dishes are done. Jay toys around with the projector before turning back to you, his face twisting in an unserious grimace.

"Oh, right," he says pointedly. "I forgot you only started dating me for my projector."

"What can I say, the richer the man, the more attractive he is." Yet, even if he didn't have a dime to his name, you would still find Jay to be the most handsome man on this dying Earth. "Come here."

Normally, he'd probably tease you for your clinginess. He'd say something along the lines of your hands being covered in glue, or make a dumb joke about magnets.

Today, though, he doesn't hesitate for a second before diving under the covers next to you, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you even closer.

It feels good, but also makes reality set in.

He feels you let out a shaky breath. "It'll be okay, love," he whispers before placing a long kiss on top of your head.

The opening credits start to roll. You try to take note of all the actors you recognize, try to remember in what movies and series you've seen them in. It calms you down. Then your mind drifts, and you start to worry about what those actors might be doing right now.

Do they know the world is ending in less than four hours? Do they know that no matter where they hide, there's no way to protect themselves?

Jay runs a finger through your hair. Your thoughts hush.

As the camera pans to the main character wiping the back counter at the diner she works at, you look up at your boyfriend. His eyes are fixed on the screen, but you can tell he's not entirely paying attention either.

You shift your position to face him better, still lying comfortably on his arm. "Why didn't you go to culinary school?" The question's been on your mind since he told you about applying for business, but you never had the guts to ask him, already being able to guess the answer.

It's always been known that Jay loves to cook. He's always found experimenting, stepping outside of the box (or the cookbook) to try new things to suit his palette. It was one of the first things you two bonded over when you started dating way back then.

You remember the first time you went to his apartment. Already from the entrance, your senses were filled with the sweet smell of pastries and fresh meat. A combination that wasn't too shabby at all.

He'd been cooking and baking all afternoon, not sure what to focus on because he wasn't familiar with your preferences yet. "Just to be safe," he had specified.

Now, his brows furrowed in thought.

"It wouldn't have worked out," he says finally.

He lightly butts his head into yours. "Doesn't matter now, does it?"

Your eyes drift down from his eyes, to his lips, to the birthmark on his neck, to your hands fidgeting with the blanket. "This is really it," you whisper into the air.

"This really is it," Jay repeats.

To think, you had planned a night with your friends for this exact event. You'd be all gathered on the rooftop, set up on lawn chairs and the terrace sofas, with an abundance of snacks, music from your shared playlist, laughter and cheer filling the air as you all watch the sky, waiting for a star, that isn't really a star, to run through the blankness, just a little brighter than everything else.

And then you would go about your lives.

Heeseung and his girlfriend would celebrate their two year anniversary.

Maybe Jake would finally gain the courage to ask the barista out on a date.

Everyone would say goodbye to Sunghoon again as he'd head off on another skating tour—or whatever the athlete does.

Jay would eventually inherit his father's business. But out of everything, that would probably take the longest. Mr. Park wasn't planning on going anywhere any time soon. Clearly he was hoping so, too.

You.... You're not so sure about yourself.

After discovering one major comet, you'd move onto the next, you supposed.

People don't ever really stop discovering things about the universe. So much of the planet you live on has gone undiscovered, let alone the infinite plane of space and time.

You bite the inside of your cheek at the thought of the millions of things that will forever be left undiscovered, until another species comes to life and starts all the way from the beginning. You realize that maybe that's the point of it all; No one is ever meant to see the end of it.

Maybe it's the moments in between that matter the most.

So, you wrap your arm around Jay's waist a little tighter. You let the voices on the screen fade away as you take in his scent, the movement of his chest as he breathes in and out, and the soft way he strokes your hair.

You tell him I love you without words, hoping he hears it, and fall asleep before you can hear him say, "I love you too."

And as the Earth burns to the ground, it's you that I lie with—It's you I welcome death with.

95 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 7 hours ago

Text

⋆༺ One For The Money, Two For The Show ༻⋆

⋆｡‧˚ʚ Yandere!Harvey Dent x Housewife! Reader ɞ˚‧｡⋆

⋆.𝄞 𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓋𝑒𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝐻𝑒𝓇'𝓈 & 𝑀𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒟𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝓎 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒶 𝒟𝑒𝓁 𝑅𝑒𝓎𝄞˚.⋆

Love does not eliminate flaws it accepts them.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about Yandere! Harvey Dent who's always been a dreamer. Whose thoughts are always a bit too diluted with fantasies and fiction, with a rêve just out of his reach.

⋆◐⋆ Courtrooms or suburbia. He harbors both between his teeth letting the nectar trickle down his throat, choking on a perfection he knows he'll never be.

⋆◐⋆ Maybe he'd always been a bit too orthodox, a bit too romantic. That's what happens when you're raised on Americanna fairy tales. On folktales of princes riding white fords and finding their princess having Malts at the local soda fountain. That's what happens when you overdose on sitcoms and kitchen commercials. They make you dream of soft hands and even softer lips...

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent who, even now, even after his disfigurement, after his fall from grace. Still dreams of having a perfect life. A sweet little wife to come home to. Someone to trail kisses over his bullet wounds, to hold both sides of his face. Someone to love like the sun loves the moon, someone who'll love him back.

⋆◐⋆ He watches "I Dream of Jeannie" and "Bewitched" in surfeit, intoxicated by the soft pink and green hues of domestic bliss. Childhood habits die hard but they always resurface screaming. He's sprawled out on the couch as Harv nags him to change to "The Addams Family" or at the very least "The Munsters". But it's the same thing, right? Two sides of the same coin. What Harvey wants Harv wants. This perfect little life, with a perfect little wife.

⋆◐⋆ Morticia, Jeannie, Lily, Samantha. What the hell is the difference? Harv's eyes follow the trajectory of the silver celestial spinning atop their head. Does it even matter what side it lands on if they want the same thing? They're both dreaming of opening a pristine door. Of being greeted by the thick aromas of spice and rice. To hear the melodic click of heels on tiled floors. Maybe they've always been desperate for comfort, chasing a fantasy he can never quite grasp.

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent whose dreaming of a girl he knows, a pretty little girl from his past. A starry-eyed law student doing her internship at the DA's office. Or maybe a spunky little lady he took on as a henchman, a broken-hearted girl who rains bullets like stars and follows every decree of his coin, like a sacred oath. It doesn't really matter. So long as you're you, his ethereal little princess awaiting your two-faced prince to find you.

⋆◐⋆ In his dreams, you wear heels that chime on the carpeted floor. How he doesn't really know. You hand him a cup of tea when he walks in and a kiss that tastes like honeydew.

⋆◐⋆ Harv agrees, so maybe just maybe that's enough to satisfy the fantasy. To know that, if he's crazy, it's not only his half going insane.

⋆◐⋆ You'd be his perfect bride, and he'd love you with all his tattered heart. Plus he just knows you'd look better in the 1950's Dior dress and channel-cropped cardigan. Harv laughs he's more interested in the heels, designer, long, pointed. Relishing in the thought of their tips digging painfully into the back of his thigh.

⋆◐⋆ 'She'd look better inside the apartment, scurrying to the door when she hears us come in.' Harvey closes his eyes, the thought tastes utterly divine, rattling around his fractured head. Being wanted, being needed. It would feel nothing short of heavenly.

⋆◐⋆ 'You'd like that college boy I know you would, pretty little princess wrapping her frail arms around our neck. Kissing your cheek, my cheek. Our hands trailing up her hips-"

⋆◐⋆ Harvey shakes his head trying to get rid of the fantasy. He can't let such thoughts linger long, or else he'd spill blood just to have you between his arms. Sweet, cute, and frivolous, awaiting him to return to you once more.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent, whose coin lands on the scared side, but really deep down he knows it never mattered what side was destined to surface. He knew he was always meant to have you.

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent who corners you when you're out alone one night. Who pushes stars between your lips tasting eden on your tongue, eager to choke on your sweetness. It's a proposal laced with desperation and obsession. A bloody candy gram screaming I love you.

⋆◐⋆ He's too high off of his delusions to notice how you struggle and squirm.

⋆◐⋆ He only fully registers the fear shimmering all so brightly in your big doe eyes, when the tears begin to fall. When he notices how desperately you try to pull your wrist from his grasp. It takes a moment to calm Harv down, to make him understand that you're reaction, while not ideal, is in fact normal.

⋆◐⋆ 'This is fine' he thinks, 'it just takes some getting used to'.

⋆◐⋆ Everything takes getting used to at first. Fingers trailing absentmindedly over the knuckles of his scarred hand.

⋆◐⋆ That night you cried yourself to sleep, as Harvey whispered saccharine little words into your ear. Kissing up and down your neck cooing and cuddling. As he drifted off into blissful sleep right next to your tortured form.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of what happens when he's had his darling for a while. Does he coax her into the role of his perfect wife? Does she haphazardly stumble into it out of sheer boredom?

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent waking up cold and lonely. Fingers stretching to your side desperate to feel the softness of your flesh. Instead, he's met with the neatly made comforter and the painful absence of you. When he breaths -shakey ragged- there's vanilla under his breath, sugar wafting through the dichromatic apartment. His heart skips a beat, you really are the greatest.

'We should warn her to stay in bed until we wake up!'

'Then who the hell is going to make your breakfast moron? Huh? Didn't think that far ahead did-'

'Oh just shut up it's too early for your yapping.'

⋆◐⋆ "Harvey!" you chirp melodious lithe of your voice ringing ceremoniously to greet him. You're dolled up already in that purple dress he likes with the white heels Harv always picks. You run up to greet him and the click of your heels along his kitchen floor has him seeing stars. You leave lipstick prints on both his cheeks. Run your nails over his bare chest. You're so close, he can feel you're pretty heartbeat through your ribs.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about making breakfast for Yandere! Harvey. Turning on the TV and talking to him all so sweetly, you've been meaning to try a new cake recipe and you're wondering what flavor he prefers cherry or coconut or both? And there's a new Zorro movie playing in theaters you're wondering if he can take you after work tomorrow? He watches eyes blown wide as you bite down on your hotcake, fork between your plump lips, as you tilt your head. "You don't like it do you," you ask and the brittle nature of your voice has his heart shattering. "I do" he assures, they both do. They're just so surprised you're acting this nice, this loving, this...

⋆◐⋆ Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you look at him. Have you done something wrong? Is he mad at you? "Are you having another dissociation episode?" you're quick to rush to his side. You sit on his lap and run your fingers through his hair. Kissing his soft and scarred lips. Holding his face firmly. "We're fine" Harv assures, voice polluted with trepidation. Unconvinced you break off tiny bits of his hotcake and gently tap the fork on his lip. You feed him so tenderly, basking in the way his pretty eyes never leave your face. As his fingers play with your dress, pinching playfully at your hips.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about seeing Yandere! Harvey Dent off at the door. He's got a gang to run, a city to protect and destroy all in the same breath. You're sure one day you'll look out the window and see Gotham going up in flames only to be remade under your lover's careful hand. You wish him a good day, moaning softly as he kisses and bites your shoulder. Both hands entwining with your fingers. "Some day I'll take you with me, have you give the orders and watch as everyone jumps to obey."

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about Yandere! Harvey Dent in his office. He runs most of his operations from his two-toned building. He's closer to you this way. Keeping you locked up in the penthouse. Even when he's ordering his thugs around, planning the next heist or crisis or perfect crime he can't get you out of his head. He swears he can still hear the click of your heels from six stories up.

⋆◐⋆ Maybe it's cause he hasn't been happy in far too long, they both haven't. This eccentric euphoria bubbling inside their chest feels too foreign, painful even. Melconay replaced with something so warm and sweet. Something he never thought he would have.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about surprising Yandere! Harvey Dent with lunch in his office. He's busy interrogating one of Falcone's thugs. Locations or gangwars you don't really care. You wince as Harv fires a bullet at the man's chest. Blood marring the walls and floor, you're careful to stirr clear. When the rage wears off he finally sees you, really sees you. Harvey is shocked and Two-Face is about to start yelling at you for leaving the apartment without permission. But you simply skip over the bloody body and hand him his lunch, kissing tenderly up his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. He's too starstruck to notice the dead man pulling out a gun. Precouopied with running his tongue along your teeth, and molding your bones to his touch. He never notices the dead thing writhing for life, for revenge...Until you've pulled out one of his shooters and shelled the man point blank. Beaming up at him with that eternally cheerful smile. Wrapping your arms around his neck once more, and inching closer to his lips...

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent waking up to the muffled sound of your sobs. And realizing it was all just a dream. You're curled up on the furthest end of the bed trying all so desperately to avoid him. He can faintly make out where you've thrown the new heels and the purple Dior dress he loved so much. Even after all this time you still haven't forgiven him for stealing you away. For locking you up and making you play into his little fantasies. Harvey rolls to his side trying to go back to bed, trying to tune out Harv's violent ramblings, trying to ignore the tear trickling down his cheek.

⋆◐⋆ He's happy, he's happy, he swears he's happy...

🎀: @fancyfeathers @yandere-writer-momo @testification @yuckcuy @realifezompire @devils-blackrose @dollyocaccount @uphighinthe-skies @d3athmaskd1v1n3 @callsigncrash

Thank you guys so much for reader ~💋

71 notes · View notes

iamthecomet · 11 hours ago

Text

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕

Rating: E Pairing: Rain/Swiss/Dewdrop Featuring: A semi-public blow job, Dew and Swiss ruining Rain's life, public bathroom shenanigans, cum swaping, cum eating, lots of kissing, lots of dick sucking. Rain losing his mind just a little. Word Count: around 2.5k.

“I can,” Rain says, a rushed whisper. Unsure even as he says it. Of course he can handle them both–he has a hundred times. Maybe not half drunk in a public bathroom but that doesn’t really matter. They are familiar–they are his. There is nothing different this time from a hundred other times. And he can take it–but he’s also pretty sure he’s going to walk out of here on shaky legs.

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝙰𝙾𝟹 𝙾𝚛 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚞𝚝

The bathroom isn’t bad, as far as bar bathrooms go. Rain gets a good look of clean porcelain and shiny stall doors all half open before his vision is filled with multi-ghoul instead. Swiss takes up all available space, grinning at him as he crowds up, invades Rain’s space. Swiss plants a warm hand in the center of his chest, and pushes him backwards until his shoulders hit the wall between the paper towel dispenser and the auto-dyer.

Rain swallows hard, looks up. Feels the rapid pulse in his own throat, anticipation. The slight thrill of being bullied around, manhandled. It makes him feel dizzy–or maybe that’s just from that last sugary drink Cumulus slid him. He leans his head back, closes his eyes, breathes deep.

He smells sandalwood, weed, and industrial cleaner. He can smell the whiskey on Swiss’ breath as he leans in, presses an open mouthed kiss to the skin beneath Rain’s ear. Rain sighs, leans deeper into it, bares his neck for the softness of Swiss’ mouth. There’s a noise–quiet–the door pushing open a crack. And then, in addition to Swiss, Rain smells a campfire, wet smoldering wood, cinnamon.

He opens his eyes when he hears the door close. He watches long, lithe, fingers flip the lock.

Dew’s on the other side of the room. Hair tie pinned between his teeth as he gathers his hair to twist it into the messiest bun Rain’s ever seen him do. The kind that will hurt to take out. Rain will have to listen to that later, he knows. Have to feel Dew’s little winces as he tries to comb through the knots. Some soft part of him can’t wait for it.

But he can’t dwell on that thought long, Swiss’ sharp teeth against his earlobe drag him away from it, back here. To the press of Swiss’ body against his and the way his cock fills out against his zipper.

Dew chuckles low as he appraises Swiss and Rain, rocking back on his heels. Admiring.

Rain drags his eyes back to Swiss, tilts his head a question he can’t voice. They planned this–ambushing him in the bathroom–this was a thing.

“What did you expect?” Swiss chides. He backs up a little, pulls his hand back just enough that only his fingers stay on Rain’s sternum. Five points of heat sinking into him.

“You did say you could take us both,” Dew says absently, taking stock of the bathroom. Rain can’t really focus on anything but them. On Swiss still invading his space–giving him just enough room to breathe. On Dew, meandering toward them slow, like he wants the distance to feel like miles when it’s only a few feet. “I can,” Rain says, a rushed whisper. Unsure even as he says it. Of course he can handle them both–he has a hundred times. Maybe not half drunk in a public bathroom but that doesn’t really matter. They are familiar–they are his. There is nothing different this time from a hundred other times. And he can take it–but he’s also pretty sure he’s going to walk out of here on shaky legs.

There’s a round of laughter–low chuckles that warm the pit of Rain’s stomach. And then Swiss falls to his knees. A graceful drop. The same way he does on stage. All strength and control as he sinks down. Rain’s stomach twists the same way it does when he watches him during a ritual. Coiling tight.

Dew slips closer, comes up on Rain’s side. Wraps an overwarm hand around Rain’s jaw. Thumb digging into his cheek as he pulls Rain down to him, catches him in a kiss that tastes like gin and cigarettes. Rain melts into it. Opens his mouth when Dew’s tongue prods at his lips and lets him in. Lets Dew sweep his tongue over his teeth as he kisses him deep and sloppy. Rain reaches out, finally peeling his hands away from the wall to grip the lapels of Dew’s jacket–to hold him there. Content to kiss him forever. Dew slips a hand around to the back of Rain’s skull–cradles him. Fingers tangling in his curls. Gentle despite the intensity of the kiss.

Rain’s wobbly. From the booze. From all of the blood in his body rushing south. From both of them–the heat, the urgency of their touches. From the way Dew holds him in place so he can kiss him the way he wants. Fingers drifting down to splay over his neck. To dig into the places where his gills would be if he wasn’t fully glamored. Fingers tracing over them from memory, sending shivers over Rain’s skin. He pulls Dew closer–which should be impossible but somehow the little ghoul finds space, fits himself right up against Rain so Rain can feel how chubby Dew has gotten in his jeans. Dew rolls his hips against Rain’s thigh to further illustrate the point.

Swiss is just as busy. Untucking Rain’s shirt, rucking it up so he can place open mouthed kisses over the spot where his jeans ride low. Teeth grazing over each prominent hipbone. One hand curled possessively around his hip–the other reaching for Rain’s zipper.

In other circumstances–Rain might resist. Might push back. Might stand up straight and boss them around and be mean the way he was playing at when he scoffed and said handling them both at the same time wasn’t even that interesting. But he finds he doesn’t want to.

He wants to let Dew kiss him breathless. Wants to be soft, and desperate, and taken apart for once. And even if he wanted to be aloof–he can’t be, is too far gone already.

Swiss’ calloused fingers brush over the soft skin above the waistband of his pants. The heat of them making him hiss, press forward. Swiss squeezes him there, over his hip. Feeling the soft swell of flesh there–the remnants of a long, relaxing winter.

Rain pulls away from Dew’s mouth, sucking air into burning lungs. Dew immediately latches onto his throat. Tongue pressing down over his hammering pulse point. Gliding over the places his gills should be. Clever teeth pinning delicate flesh between them and worrying it. Rain tips his head, exposing more long neck to Dew’s mouth.

Rain’s lost in it–in the sensation. Drifting on it so thoroughly he almost misses the moment Swiss unzips his pants. The rasp of the zipper brings him back to himself, eyes stuttering open to peer down at Swiss. To watch as he parts Rain’s jeans, tugs his briefs down, and whistles like he’s never seen Rain’s cock before.

“Worked up already, huh?” Swiss says, looking up at Rain eyes wide and filled with feigned innocence that part of Rain wants to gnash his teeth at. Instead, he swallows hard, mouth dry, and nods.

“Real pretty too,” Dew murmurs. He pulls the collar of Rain’s shirt away from his neck so he can latch onto his collarbone–a weak spot that makes Rain’s knees feel like they’ve suddenly filled with water.

Swiss dips his hand in, pets what little of Rain’s shaft he can see so far. That single point of heat makes Rain jolt. His head tips back, knocking hard against the tile wall. He’s met with twin chuckles. Dew’s breath is hot and wet against his neck.

“Don’t look away, Rainy. You don’t want to miss it.”

Rain does as he’s told, slitting his eyes open again, looking down at Swiss. Swiss pulls him out slowly, fingers curling gently at the spot just under the head. Cradling him like it’s something precious.

Swiss licks a bead of pre from the tip and hums. Swiss takes the head into his mouth and Rain watches his cock jump in Swiss’ grip, pulsing against his fingers, his tongue. Dew’s mouth has gone slack against Rain’s shoulder, his own gaze tilted down to watch, rapt.

“Take more of it,” Dew orders and Swiss scoffs.

“You gonna tell me how to suck dick now?”

“Yeah,” Dew says, all breath. “You look better when you take orders anyway.”

Swiss chuckles–doesn’t bite back. It’s weird, the way they’re working together against him, leaning into it. He expects them to be at each other's throats, compete. Instead Swiss takes more of his cock, hollows his cheeks, and Rain couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer if he tried.

His head cracks off the tile–hard. He doesn’t feel it. All he feels is the way Swiss swallows, the way he hums.

“See,” Dew says, “he likes it like that.”

Rain groans. He digs his fingers harder into Dew’s coat, wants to find a way to hold on, to burrow inside of him. Is this how everyone else feels when Rain talks about them like they’re not there? No wonder everyone else likes it so much. He shudders with it, or maybe that’s just because Swiss is reaching into his pants to pull out his balls,to roll impossibly soft skin in his palm, cradling him so gently even while he tries to suck him dry.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Dew chides, and Rain is about to assure Dew that no–he isn’t, when Dew slips away from him, down. Palm gliding down Rain’s side to rest at his hip as he kneels next to Swiss. Rain opens his eyes, looks down at them. Eyes already drooping, pupils blown wide making him look both half asleep and astounded.

He finds them kneeling shoulder to shoulder. Dew watching, head tilted, like he’s critiquing Swiss’ technique.

“Move over, let me show you how to do it.”

Dew doesn’t actually give Swiss a chance to move over–he just leans in as Swiss pulls back and licks a stripe up the side of Rain’s cock–chasing Swiss’ mouth with his own.

Swiss pulls off with a pop and Dew immediately takes his place, sucking the head into his mouth. Rain feels his knees turn to jelly. He leans hard on the wall, relying on it to keep him up. He can’t watch–he can’t look away. Especially not as Swiss descends too, lacing his fingers in Dew’s hair and pulling him back.

“Share with me?” Swiss whispers, voice raspy. Dew looks at him, heat smoldering in his eyes. Rain’s stomach swoops as Dew nods.

When they descend again, Rain watches as they make out around the head of his cock. Tongues pressing together over the slit of his cock, lapping up pre as their lips meet.

“Fuck.” Swiss chuckles low, he pulls back enough to talk. “You like when we share you, Rainy?”

Rain chokes, nods, he wants to answer–wants to say something, but the words get locked in his throat when Swiss descends again and his world narrows down to the heat of their mouths. To the little noises they both make, of the slick sound of their mouths meeting around his cock. Dew reaches up to roll Rain’s balls in his palm and Rain makes a wounded noise. Fists clenching at his sides.

The next thing he knows he has a hand on each of them. Fingers sinking into their hair. Thumbs dragging over their scalps. He moans, low, head tipping back, eyes falling closed no matter how badly he wants to keep watching.

“Gonna cum soon,” Ran rasps out. He’s never been a minute man but he finds himself suddenly reduced to one as they work him over.

“Already?” Dew whispers, breath hot over Rain’s shaft.

“Wish you could see yourselves,” Rain says in his own defense.

“If you let me have it off the tap, I’ll feed it to you,” Swiss whispers to Dew, bargaining. Rain whimpers, gut-punched, a low wounded noise at the very thought of it. He doesn’t know if he can take–knows they’ll make him anyway. Dew rolls his eyes, petulant, but he nods.

“Just don’t waste any.”

Rain just barely sees the look Swiss shoots toward Dew–the one that says as if I’d spill a drop. But then Swiss is sucking him down again, tongue dragging over the sensitive spot beneath the head. Cheeks hollowing. And Rain then can’t watch anymore, can’t think of anything except wet heat and suction.

There’s a warm hand on his balls–he doesn’t know whose. It doesn’t particularly matter. Because no sooner do those lithe fingers roll his balls between them does everything but pleasure disappear. He is nothing but the roll of it, a wave that takes him under. His head cracks hard against the bathroom wall. His knees shake–buckle. He holds himself up by sheer leverage of his weight against the wall. His feet slip on the floor and Dew and Swiss steady him, even as he starts to cum. Even as he spills over Swiss’ tongue.

It goes on forever–or at least it feels like it does. He is turned under by it, wave after wave until he’s spent and Swiss’ mouth is full.

Swiss pulls back with a grin, and Dew is already pulling him in, greedy. Mouth sealing over Swiss’ so he can drink Rain from Swiss’ tongue. Rain slits his eyes open in time to see the flash of Dew’s tongue slipping from his mouth to Swiss’, plundering.

It sends an aftershock through him. And without them to hold him he finds himself sliding down. Sitting gently on the floor, knees splayed, cock softening against his jeans, chest heaving. He’s at eye level when Dew pulls back and thumbs cum away from the corner of Swiss’ mouth and then sucking it into his own with a quiet, satisfied hum.

There is a moment where they all look at each other, a loaded breath.

Rain starts to laugh, just a little. Breathless and spent, he tips his head back, curls falling away from his face. And then, Swiss and Dew are laughing with him, shuffling back to sit next to him, their backs against the wall, knees drawn up.

“Holy fuck,” Rain breathes.

“Uh-huh,” Swiss agrees, pressing his palm down over the spot where his cock is tenting his jeans.

“Told you you couldn’t take us both,” Dew nudges Rain, eyes bright.

“Shut up.”

A knock at the door breaks them of their revelry. The handle rattles.

“Just a minute,” Swiss calls even as he’s working his own zipper open.

“We should–”Rain starts–thinking of courtesy–of the embarrassment when they all walk out of the room together and have to face whoever is out there desperate to get in.

“Fuck that,” Dew says, reaching over Rain’s body to curl his fingers around Swiss’ cock. Swiss hisses, eyes slipping closed as Dew starts to stroke. He turns his face to Rain’s, his grin wide and devious in the fluorescent light. “They can wait.”

59 notes · View notes

ao3-shenanigans · 2 days ago

Note

I have a confession, and a question. I have rewritten my longest fic to-date a total of six times and have an entire extended universe planned. The problem is, I only make progress if I'm writing it out by hand. The slower pace of writing with a pen or pencil forces me to pause and think far more often than typing and makes it much easier to deal with grammar and spelling errors down the road. It also has the great side effect of helping to keep Writer's Block from taking hold. How do you deal with writer's block?

Ah man, writers block hits me so hard!

Some tips and tricks I’ve heard that help:

1. Make a short-term outline

- maybe not the whole plot but rather a short scene or set of scenes. Ex:

(1) Character A picks a fight -> (2) Character A looses fight -> (3) Character B finds them and takes care of them

2. Make a list of things you would want to read in a fic

- be self indulgent! This is your fic after all!

- listing moments you’d like to have can sometimes get the creative flow excited again

Ex: Jon and Martin kiss, someone calls Elias a Saucy Minx and he has to put up with it, Sasha gets to stab Peter, Tim gets to have a sick day where people take care of him

3. Write scenes out of order!

- write that sappy epilogue first if you want!

- stab that sad little man! Figure out why it happened later!

4. Write a few sentences or scenes from a different perspective

- can be that of a different character, an animal watching, a passerby or even an inanimate object!

5. Write with a friend! Co-authoring a fic or even parallel writing can help with motivation

6. Write a one shot while taking a break from Your main project!

- sometimes something short and sweet can get the dopamine flowing again

7. Write by hand!

- the old notebook trick!

- or even changing the font sometimes helps!

8. Don’t allow yourself to edit or fix typos!

- let yourself ramble on to the page for a bit! You can’t edit what’s not there!

9. Read someone else’s work!

- fanfic or traditionally published work! Mix it up!

10. Re-engage with the source material!

- remember your roots!

11. Change the weather!

- maybe the fight isn’t working in the rain, but how about sleet or snow? Searing desert heat?

12. Change the format of the fic

- try writing it in second person or as a screen play

13. Leave bits out

- start with only the dialogue or only the setting descriptions

14. Talk it through with a friend or fandom buddy!

- explain the story and ask them questions, brainstorm answers together

15. Remember that it doesn’t need to be perfect!

- getting fixated on plot holes or mischaracterization can be detrimental to enjoying the act of creation that writing is

- as fanfic readers, we genuinely don’t mind that much; its the whole “Holy shit two cakes!!” situation, the fact that you’re willing to share this thing you’ve written and labored over with us for free is a gift in and of itself

- have fun! Be silly! Don’t fret about it!

#feel free to add more #writers block #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 shenanigans ask #fanfic #fandom #writing

55 notes · View notes

urlocaloptimist · 2 days ago

Text

A is for Anniversary: They spend the whole day together, walking around Ithaca, going to the market, and just doing whatever they feel like.

B is for Beach: They love going on beach dates, whether talking, swimming, or having a picnic, they spend a lot of time on Ithaca's beach.

C is for Cuddles: One of Telemachus's favorite things is cuddling with Y/n, he can be very clingy because he's a bit touch-starved from childhood.

D is for Dates: Telemachus and Y/n spend a lot of time together, they don't always consider it "a date" but they do go on dates when there not too busy, some locations include the beach, the market, the palace gardens, and more.

E is for every day: They would spend every second of every day together if they could, but Telemachus has duties as the prince and Y/n always finds something to help with around the palace.

F is for Fights: They don't ever really have big fights, just small disagreements sometimes but they always work it out very quickly.

G is for Gifts: The Cliché moment of trading something of theirs to get the other a gift that goes with the thing they traded and then laughing about it, for example: Telemachus trades his bow to get Y/n some exotic yarn for her weaving and Y/n trades her weaving loom to get Telemachus some engraved arrows for his archery.

H is for Home: Y/n started living at the palace with Telemachus since Telemachus would have to spend all his time there attending to royal duties and that way they could spend more time together.

I is for Interactions: Y/n and Telemachus are always going to be a little shy and nervous around each other, especially Telemachus, when they first met he was a stuttering mess, but Y/n found it adorable.

J is for Journey: Sometimes they go on diplomatic trips together to neighboring islands.

K is for Kisses: Their first kiss was a little hesitant and Telemachus would always be a little nervous before kissing Y/n but he got more comfortable.

L is for Love: They said they love each other very early in the relationship, Y/n said it first but Telemachus fell in love first.

M is for Making Out: They don't make out very much, if they do it would be to help take Telemachus's mind off the suitors.

N is for Nicknames: Not so much classic pet names as just shortened versions of their names, n/n, Tel, Machus. (I saw one story where the creator used Machus so credit to them for where I got that idea, if you know what story I'm talking about you get my utmost respect)

O is for Odysseus: When Odysseus got back Y/n helped him and Telemachus fight the suitors after he made sure to tell his son "You chose well" (I might do a one-shot of this, I've seen quite a few of them but they never get old)

P is for PDA: Not too much PDA, Telemachus is quite shy so it's mostly just handholding when they are in public.

Q is for Queen: When Penelope found out about their relationship she was a little hesitant of Y/n at first but then she saw how happy Y/n makes her son and has welcomed her into the family.

R is for Rain: Y/n and Telemachus dance in the rain together outside the palace.

S is for Stargazing: Telemachus and Y/n sneak out and stargaze from the roof of the palace at night, Telemachus knows a lot of constellations and Y/n loves hearing him point them out.

T is for Talking: They love talking to each other, whether it's late night or daytime, and they can easily get wrapped up in a conversation.

U is for Unique: Telemachus has always been a bit insecure but Y/n will always remind him how unique he is.

V is for Visits: When they first started dating they would always sneak out and visit each other at night.

W is for Wedding: When Y/n and Telemachus get married, they have a classic Ithacan wedding, Telemachus was very happy his father was back for his wedding.

X is for IDK

Y is for Something:

Z is for Zoo Eee Mama: Nothing left to say.

#epic the musical #telemachus #telemachus x reader

48 notes · View notes

jintaka-hane · 16 hours ago

Note

For the new years event can i request heat and rain by sleep token 👉👈

Also asked by @heats-lover-girl <3

Kiss your blorbo at the New Year’s Eve event

HEAT

Summary: If you play with fire, one day you'll get burned. Word count: 1100 Warning: x f!reader; rough kissing All my stories are written entirely in Spanish and then translated into English, so I apologize for any mistakes I might make.

If eyes could eat, you'd be nothing but skin and bones by now.

You love teasing him. In fact, it’s one of your favorite pastimes, and seeing how every little thing you do gets a reaction, you get bolder and bolder.

You always pick moments when he can’t touch you. Is he following orders from the captain? You strut across the deck right in front of him, grinning and swaying your hips. Is he meticulously working on some carpentry project that keeps his hands occupied? You call his name, then give him a flirty wink while biting your bottom lip. Is he busy demolishing an enemy crew? Being a walking flamethrower takes focus, but there you are, gazing at him seductively from a distance, wetting your lips and blowing kisses his way.

"One day, I’m gonna grab you and ain’t lettin’ go," he always growls when you push things a little too far, frustrated because he can’t lay a hand on you. But all bark and no bite, you think with a laugh, skipping away challengingly while his eyes eat you alive.

You know those sunken, haunted eyes of his have traced every inch of your body. That the teeth behind his scarred lips have nearly cracked from the tension of clenching them too hard. And that beads of sweat have slid down that tattooed neck of his as he imagines all the things he’d do to you if he could.

But the commander with the blue-tinted dreads never takes action. Maybe it’s shyness, or maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment. Either way, that threat of his never comes to fruition, and you keep provoking him, like a little bunny daring the wolf to strike.

“… and to kick off the year like the last, tomorrow at dawn, we’ll conquer another fucking island! NOW DRINK!” Kid shouts, half-drunk, concluding his usual New Year’s Eve speech.

The crew cheers, raising their drinks high and spilling them everywhere, though hardly anyone actually listened. They’re too busy fighting over bites of the epic feast Killer prepared, while the blonde tries to shove people away from the mountain of roasted meat.

It’s always chaos aboard the ship on New Year’s Eve. Preparations start out orderly enough, with tasks divided to decorate the ship using whatever you can get your hands on. Stolen shiny objects, glittering scraps of metal, or pieces of looted treasure. Everything’s fair game and counts as festive if you look at it the right way. But as soon as the captain climbs up onto the massive dinosaur skull to give his speech, things spiral out of control because you all know what comes next. Barrel races over the water, drinking competitions and arm-wrestling matches with high-stakes bets, and the traditional “treasure hunt,” with a very drunk Wire as the guardian.

You clutch your stomach, laughing uncontrollably as you lie sprawled on the deck, your clothes and hair completely soaked from the countless times Bubblegum has tossed you overboard. Quincy reaches out a hand to help you up, and you grab it, letting her pull you to your feet while swiping Hop’s drink on the way up.

“Hey!” she yells, launching herself at you and knocking you back to the ground. You can’t stop laughing, and amidst the playful scuffle, you feel it again. Those eyes burning holes into your body.

The tall commander hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night, his tattooed arms resting on the railing and his long hair cascading over his shoulders, staring at you as if you were the only person on the deck.

"Guys, guys, guys! The cannon!!! It’s almost midnight!!" Dive yells, bouncing up and down as she points at Kid, who sets his drink on the railing and aims the ship’s main cannon at the sky.

Everyone scrambles to their feet and rushes over there. It’s going to be spectacular when he fires it, and no one wants to miss the show. You wrap your arms around Quincy and Bubblegum, and at Killer’s signal, everyone starts shouting the countdown.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six!"

Kid lets out a wild howl at the top of his lungs, and the crew cheers, joining him before continuing with the countdown.

"Five, four, three, two, one!"

BOOOOOOOM!!

The captain laughs maniacally as he fires the cannon, the explosion shaking your chest and making you gasp as thousands of glittering scraps of metal rain down on you. The crew roars, and just as you open your mouth wide to shout “Happy New Year!”, a few taps on your shoulder stop you. Raising an eyebrow, you turn around, and for the first time since joining the Kid Pirates, you tremble.

"Got you," Heat says, his imposing figure looming over you, eyes filled with the desperation of a ravenous man. He grabs your cheeks, guides your face upward, and before you can react, crashes his mouth possessively onto yours. His tattooed lips move against yours in a rough, almost bruising kiss, leaving you with no choice but to surrender and kiss him back.

"UUUUH!!! Woohoo!! Go get her, Heat!" You hear cheers and whistles erupt from the crew.

The sparkling rain of metal continues to fall around you as you laugh into the kiss, your hands blindly tracing the snaking designs inked on Heat's neck before tangling in his locks. He hums, low and pleased, then his hands roam over your shoulders and down your back. When you finally need to break for air, one of your hands presses against his chest. But as soon as you tilt your head back, he growls, his grip tightening on a strand of your hair to keep you in place.

Wolf-like howls echo around you and you give in. Your fingers grip the laces of his corset as his other hand moves lower, settling on your lower back and closing the small gap between your bodies. Breathless, you try once more to pull away, only for him to growl again, his jaw tilting against yours as he nips at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open further to deepen the kiss.

"Uh, okay… I'll take Dive," you hear Killer say.

"No!" Dive stomps her feet and protests.

"Yes, ma’am, we’re going...," the first mate adds, but he pauses, and you’re certain he’s watching as Heat becomes wild, gripping your ass as if he can’t get enough of you. "In fact… we’re all going. Guys! The party continues in the aft castle!"

"YEEEES!" the crew roars, leaving you helpless and giddy in the wolf's grasp.

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

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid @nocturnalrorobin @daydreamer-in-training <3

#jintaka asks #jintaka stuff #x reader #one piece fanfiction #jintaka new year event #heat kid pirates #heat #heat one piece #heat x reader

34 notes · View notes