#but god i just feel like i need someone to back me up here or like

[just-some-random-blogger]

I said I was going to reblog this when I woke up. That was today and now I'm sleepy and about to go to sleep but I REFUSSSE TO DO SO BECAUSE MY GOSSHHH THIS GOD MEEEEE SOMMEEEEEE TYPAAA WAYYYYY HELLO????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

I cannot put into words how this like... Changed my brain???? Like it's so beautiful and sensible and yah. That part. That would 100% happen if you were dating a twin like hello? Also idk the thought just makes me swoon ))))):

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.”

JSJDJDJSJJSJSJSJJSHSHSHHSHA HES SO STUPID THIS IS WHY HES MY FAVE BB GIRL ARE YOU SINGLE IM TRYNA GET YOU PREGNANT AYO MY GUY WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN WHEN YOU SAY THIS UR SO SILLY WTFFFFFF IM GIGGLING LIKE I GET PAID TO DO IT

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

HE REALLY SAID SIS LOUDER AND

“If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

NASJJSJSBSJJSJSB IM SO SORRY THE GEORGE GIRLIE IN ME WANTS SO GO HELL YEAH LETS MAKE THAT RAT FREDDIE RUE THE DAY HE WAS BORN 😫😈😈😈 HES JUST SO DARLING I LUV HIM HES SO SILLY AND STUPID FUCKKKK

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.”

👏THAT👏PART👏 RIP HIM TO SHREDS GEORGE. ANNIHILATE THAT GINGER GIT

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?”

EXCUSE ME

He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch.

.... WHAT ABOUT IT

“Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?”

❓❓❓❓ DI BALE SANA NANDITO KA???? HELLO

(tr: NEVERMIND IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY HERE. and the pick is let's go stupid/idiot)

You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

I fear I may be quaking in my boots... It's not the only thing quaking.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.”

NO CUZZZZ

His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

I love icarusing myself WHAT ABOUT IT WEASLEY

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?”

HES GOT SUCH A DIRTY MOUTH ON HIMMMMMMM FUCKKKK OFFF

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

Raw. Next twin.

“My little whore needs more?”

“Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.”

Brat tame me then 🙄✋ I dare you also

Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

VIOLENTLY SHAKING IM ILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

UghhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD NEXT TWIN LMAO HAHAHAHHH

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[rose-tries-to-write]

Mission: Make Danny Nightingale Like Me

PART 1

A few months ago Tim Drake-Wayne, past Robin and current Red Robin, one of the best detectives and a spiteful fuck, met one Danny Nightingale. Who was a complete mystery.

Danny Nightingale moved to Gotham and started attending Gotham University and that is all Tim knows. He can't find where he came from, why he moved here, nothing. It's driving Tim, the FUCKING DETECTIVE, mad. Not to mention, Danny was kind when they first met. Amicable. That, for some reason, didn't last. He was mean, uncouth, and honestly a fucking asshole to Tim most days now. Tim needed to know why.

Then the Bats started meeting Danny. Started talking about a robbery or a stick-up or any number of instances all about a boy that fit into 'adoption bait' territory. Tim didn't have to guess who. Danny was a blue-eyed, black-haired boy of concerning food habits and questionable social habits. But it was another thing on the list of questions, questions, questions about this strange guy.

So, reasonably, the only option was to meet him as Red Robin so that Tim could see what Danny acted like with someone he didn't hate and get answers. On the first reported sight of him, Red Robin went running. And running.... and running... Okay, what the FUCK!

Whenever Red Robin showed up, Danny was nowhere to be seen. Even the others had shown confusion, turning in their spots trying to find the boy that was just right there, I swear! And sometimes, he just took off running! So Red Robin would chase, for hours, as Danny ran and ran and eventually some-fucking-how loses the vigilante.

Okay. Fine. Different approach. Danny didn't run from Tim Drake, just became an intolerable person. Tim would... make friends.

He started doing everything to make a connection with Danny. He wants to be friends, but Danny is borderline mean and dismissive of Tim no matter what he does. One day, Tim is complaining to the void about one thing or another, and… Danny laughs.

Danny—cold, unresponsive, non-expressive Danny—laughs at Tim’s misfortune and gods. It is the best thing he’s ever heard. It's soft and quiet and quick, but Tim is hanging off of it. Is holding still the way Danny’s face scrunched into it, the way his lips pulled and his nose scrunched around those pretty freckles.

Gods… Gods. Tim is lovestruck, head over heels, and on cloud nine all at once.

The moment passes all too fast when Danny speaks, quietly as if he were shy, “Do I have something on my face..?”

Tim is startled so hard out of the spell that he flinches back, hitting his head on the wall with a dull thunk, and spitting out in a flurry of sound, “What? N-No! No, it’s nothing.” Tim looks away, hiding the red that floods his face. He doesn’t understand why his face is flushed nor why the way Danny had looked had been so… perfect. Tim is hit with the feeling of wanting to run his fingers through the boy’s hair and kiss every freckle on the boy’s face and, fuck, he doesn’t understand why. The only thing that makes sense is...

To Danny’s complete and utter resentment (he’s actually very happy and very grateful that his soulmate isn’t giving up so easily on him), this only further emboldens Tim’s efforts on mission: ‘Make Danny Nightingale Like Me’ double down.

[katmostardently]

Set after the Doyle arc, Emily’s been a bit distant and guilty for everything, you’ve been patient nonetheless.

Implied death, hurt/comfort, fluff, barely implied smut

ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

Word count: 737 words

a/n: I got some ideas after listening to Would You Fall in Love with Me Again, it’s short but it’s 4 am, I blame all my mistakes on that. I currently have some ideas for longer stuff but I’m lazy, tired, and uninspired so here are my scraps!! :;(∩´﹏`∩);:

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

“I’m sorry, I know I’m not the Emily you fell in love with.”

Her voice cracked, and you’d never quite seen Emily so broken down. You could see the genuine sorrow in her eyes, each line of her face filled with guilt. After getting out of a life or death situation because of Doyle, it was as though the only thing she had left for you was regret. Emily hated it, because someone like you didn’t deserve it

Someone like you didn’t deserve to have your heart shattered, torn to bits, to be forced into grieving, just to have it all been for nothing. Yet here you were, and that was just what happened.

Even if a week had passed since her return, hardly anything was settling in, even then, you were still there.

You placed the plate of spaghetti you’d just prepared for Emily down, settling on the couch next to her. “Emily-“, you were quick to start, and Emily was quick to silence you.

“I’m sure you’re more upset than anyone on the team, you… You’re wearing my ring for god’s sake, I couldn’t bring myself to even let you know about all this…” Emily’s mouth had quivered, letting out a shaky breath as she turned to you. “I made you wait, and now I’m not even the woman you adored so much. Y/n, I…”

She looked at you, not wanting to leave you alone ever again, but at that same moment, not feeling worthy to hold you in her arms. “I’m so sorry…” Sure, Emily was in fact changed, anyone would be.

She had this tired look in her eyes, like she wasn’t truly there, like she needed some escape. You saw it in the moments where she got home from work, when she’d secretly discard your food at night. The cigarettes in Emily’s pockets, the nights you’d wake up and cradle her through a nightmare. It all tore away at her piece by piece.

But in those same eyes, you saw the same eyes that lit up every time you were near, the same eyes that called to you with a single glance.

The same eyes, pooled with that intense devotion, that stared up to you when she knelt down on one knee a year ago.

“It’s true, you left me waiting, and it hurt, the fact that I couldn’t know you were alright.” You answered her honestly, “but it hurt even more to think you were dead. I wanted whatever monster took you from me to suffer, and I felt cursed thinking that you were taken from me.”

Before she could muster a response, you took Emily’s hand, holding it against your cheek.

Instinctively, she traced her thumb against your lips.

“And I’m so, so, so happy that you’ve come back to me.” With the way you were looking at her, Emily was certain that she’d married a princess—no, some generous, all forgiving goddess.

“I don’t deserve you…” She whispered, her hand continuing its gentle caress.

You let out a little chuckle at her words, shaking your head, “see, now only my Emily, would say something so untrue. Because you, Emily Prentiss, deserve the world.”

Then to be exact, it felt as though you gave Emily a whole galaxy, because in moments like these you always brought her some solace. There was not a single doubt you couldn’t crush with your benign palms.

She could simply hold you close in response, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you felt her heartbeat.

Emily knew that her heart would never stop, not when she’d been given the best of all women to be her fiance. She vowed to never let it stop, not when you’d be waiting for her, she could never again leave you frozen in time. Her dearest, y/n y/l/n, soon to be y/n Prentiss.

Perhaps she didn’t have to worry all that much, because somehow, you fell back in love with her new, shattered self. But really, you just simply never stopped loving her, there was no need to win you back, to make you fall in love again.

“Now… Your spaghetti’s gonna get cold….” You reminded, about to move when Emily stopped you, tenderly pushing you against the cushions. “I want my fiancé right now, not some spaghetti…” She murmured against your neck, and you smiled in response.

Forevermore, you’d never even think of giving up Emily Prentiss.

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: their jealousy❤️‍🔥

Featuring: Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Ji Yeong x Reader(f), Kim Jun Hee x Reader(f)

A/N: Orders are always open for you!

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Kang Sae Byeok

She's not the girl who will be jealous. And it's not even about the trust you've been building with her for a very long time, it's that she knows her worth and understands that you won't leave her for someone else.

But instead of jealousy, she has a huge malice towards some people, namely to men who like to flirt with you when she goes somewhere for a short time. And then she has two options. The first option: she will calmly ask they to leave you alone. The second option: if they don't listen, she'll hit them.

The second happens more often, because the men think she's just joking.

- God, you broke his nose! - you said in horror when the two of you ran away.

- There's nothing to touch someone else's. I said him, but he didn't listen. That's why it's his own fault. But now I won't leave you, it will be safer that way. - she said the last sentence with a slight smile.

You understood, even if she is not jealous of you to others, it does not mean that she does not love you.

Cho Hyun Ju

Your girlfriend may be jealous, but not because she doesn't trust, she just often thinks that you deserve more than her.

And every time you have a nice conversation with your friends, she looks at it with a slight irritation and you immediately feel it.

- Did something happen, Hyunnie? - you ask when you finished the phone conversation with your friend.

- No, everything is fine. It's just that you talked so sweetly with your friend. - she said, sulking slightly on you.You approached her and buried your face in her chest.

- You're jealous, Hyunnie.

- Not at all! What did you get it from! - she said nervously, which made you laugh from her.

- When you lying, you blush.

- I blushed from your actions, not from lies, baby. - she tried to get out, but under your eyes she gave up and admitted that she was jealous.

- My dear Hyunnie, you know that I don't need anyone but you and I love only you. - you said, gently kissing his face, you knew that it was a good way to calm a girl down.

- I know, but I can't help myself.

- So all evening I'll be proving to you that you don't need to be jealous. - you answered teasingly and it seems that she understood.

Ji Yeong

Your girlfriend is not jealous. Again, it's not about trust, but about the fact that she doesn't need it at all. After all, you spend all your free time with Ji Yeong, only your work distances you from each other.

You don't have many friends like she does, so you're always with a girl.

And when you sit in a cafe and a guy appears on the horizon who looks at you for a very long time, your reaction will make her laugh a lot.

- Honey, that guy at the next table has been looking at you for a long time, it even seems to me that he will hypnotize my girlfriend soon. - she says with a pretend resentment.

- It's strange, I don't see anyone here except you. - you answer, without even looking around, just looking into the girl's eyes.

- That's why I love you.

- I know, my love.

Kim Jun Hee

Your girlfriend is jealous, but not very much, you almost always spend time with her and her child. She even gets ashamed sometimes when she is jealous of you to your friends or work colleagues, because you are the perfect girl.

You are more jealous in your couple, especially to her ex-boyfriend Le Myung Gi, who often revolves around her and the child, although there is nothing to be surprised about, the child is from him.

The girl feels it and explains to you that she doesn't love him anymore and will never come back to him.

- Honey, I'm talking to him only because of the child, so I would have stopped communicating with him a long time ago. - she said hugging you when she saw jealous looks from you.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[rosyhoneydew]

second half of your ask @ohithankyou 🤗

2. accidental sexting (I kinda forgot they were supposed to call each other my bad, but this wound up being like 600+ words oopsie!)

“Shit.” Tommy’s always been someone to fumble with technology but this is maybe the most egregious mistake he’s made. It’s pathetic. He’d been looking through old pictures, pictures pictures. The intent was good. Noble, even. Now that he’d let Evan go, he needed to get rid of them. It was the respectful thing to do, and it would keep him from remembering, from begging Evan to take him back. The problem was that he had clicked play on a video, a good one, one that had a slick, wet sound and Evan’s voice moaning Oh, fuck filling the room. He should’ve shut it off, deleted it, and forgotten it. But he didn’t stop it playing, and soon little uhn, uhn sounds were filling his ears and he’d reached down, just for a quick press at his cock. Only, he’s never been good at self-control when it comes to Evan, and he’d immediately played it again when it ended, reaching into his sweats and rubbing at the tip of his dick to tease. He’d been trying to play it for a third time when his fingers slipped and hit the little box with an arrow. Then, he’d panicked, sat up, and tried to hit the screen as fast as he could, tapping the quick button that still listed Evan with a heart. So… shit. He gets a response nearly immediately. Evan ❤️: ? Evan ❤️: fuck Evan ❤️: i was looking for this one Tommy’s holding his breath, his hand’s still on his dick, but it’s flagging a little and his heart is racing. Evan ❤️: u still watch it? He should end this. This is exactly what he’d been wanting to avoid. Me: Yes. Evan ❤️: fuuuck Evan ❤️: u watching it now? Tommy clicks play on the video player in their message thread, watches the way the Evan in the video flushes, and looks at the camera with wide eyes and an open, plush mouth. God, he wants to fuck right into that mouth again, feel the way Evan would wrap his lips around Tommy’s cock and press his tongue, soft and wet against the head of it. Me: Yeah. Me: You looked so good like that. Evan ❤️: with ur cock in me? Evan ❤️: yeah Evan ❤️: loved it Evan ❤️: still miss the way it felt. So fucking big u filled me right up Jesus. Me: What are you doing? Evan ❤️: right now? Evan ❤️: fucking myself open Evan ❤️: thinking about your tongue inside me Tommy groans. He loved eating Evan out, feeling him writhe and hearing the soft gasps and moans when he got it really good. Me: You miss my mouth on you? Evan ❤️: miss all of u Evan ❤️: fuck i want u here Evan ❤️: want u to come over and find me like this Evan ❤️: fuck me deep and fucking hard Me: Evan Evan ❤️: u touching yourself? Me: Yes Evan ❤️: show me It’s beyond stupid. The stupidest thing he’s done all night, and that’s saying something. But he does. He takes a video of his hand working his cock, sliding precome down the length of it, and fucking into his hand. Evan ❤️: god u sound so hot Evan ❤️: [1 video] He hits play immediately. Evan’s got his legs up to his chest, and he must be holding the phone at a high angle because Tommy can see the way he pushes three fingers into himself, quick and precise. He’s making these soft groans of Tommy’s name and swearing. It goes on like that for a few seconds before he takes his fingers out and strokes his cock fast, arching his back and coming hard enough that the phone angle drops and Tommy gets a view of the ceiling for a few seconds. Tommy plays it again and mirrors the way Evan fucks his hand until he’s coming too, shouting Evan’s name and breathing hard as he comes down. He takes one final picture of himself, sweaty and covered in come, and sends it off to Evan. Evan ❤️: shit Yeah. Shit.

[seitmai]

You were certain Tyler wouldn’t be mean about your feelings or make you feel bad, but you were equally certain you weren’t his type. You’d met a fair amount of guys that looked as good as him, and not a single one of them was ever interested in you. You weren’t ashamed of your body, but you weren’t exactly comfortable being the only overweight person in your friend group.

🥺🥺🥺

He noticed you still hadn't met his gaze, a fact he chose to ignore. Instead, he opted to use the moment to his advantage, blue-green eyes sweeping over your form, noting the exposed, soft flesh of your legs. He had twin urges to sink his teeth into your thighs and feel them wrap around his head until he couldn't breathe. He quickly shook the image out of his head before those impure thoughts could make their way below the belt line.

The definition of ogling 🤭

You blanched further. "It's-it's a physiological response--" "To you," he added firmly. "A physiological response to you."

Just a physiological response, sure 🤭

"No--that you want me." Tyler grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them between his. "I am completely certain I want you in every meaning of the word. I would, however, like to start with getting to know you...biblically." You let out a breathy laugh. "I would ask if you're drunk, but I already know the answer." "Sober as a priest, darlin'." "So you're just insane then?"

Urgh I just loved this exchange 😍

He grinned, but you could see a light blush dusting his cheeks even in the dark room. "I, uh--I've read a lot of those books you told me about." "Books I've read?" He nodded. "I had no idea." "Well I knew how much you liked them and I was curious...so I started reading one and I couldn't stop. They actually gave me some ideas for things I'd like to do with you." "I'm not quite sure why that's so hot, but it is. So if you could please kiss me again, I'd appreciate it."

What a declaration of love 🥰 + extremely hot 🤤

His nostrils flared and he balled his hands into fists. "No one has the right to make negative comments on your appearance. No one, including you. I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel like you weren't a fucking prize, but that's their loss. If you don't feel comfortable showing me your body yet, then I won't push you, but I need you to know I want to see every inch of you...so I can worship every inch of you."

"I wanted a better angle." With that, he threw your legs over his shoulders and dove into your pussy.

🤭🤭🤭

After several minutes, your thighs began to burn and your motions slowed. Tyler noticed your energy waning, so he pulled you down flush against his chest and kissed you deeply. He thrust up into you a couple times before flipping you onto your back. "Let me take care of you," he murmured as he began to slowly thrust into you.

He is so sweet and hot at the same time 🥰😮‍💨

"Just appreciating how sweet you are." He smiled. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't think I was just gonna leave you here with this mess." His tone was light, though slightly chastising. "I've never had someone take care of me after sex," you admitted, a soft blush gracing your cheeks.

I just wanna give her a hug 🥺

As you closed your eyes, your foolish brain began to overthink every moment of the night. You wondered if he would regret his choices in the light of day, or if he would want to actually have a real relationship with you. Tyler felt the tension in your body and his grip on you tightened. "Turn your brain off, princess." You inhaled sharply before letting out a soft chuckle. "How'd you know?" "I know you. I can practically hear your brain overthinking," he teased. "Whatever your anxiety says is wrong. I'm in this for the long haul, okay?"

He truly is perfect 🥹

He smiled and handed them to you, but when you stepped closer, you saw the marks on his biceps--crescent moon shaped scabs. "Oh my god," you gasped. "Did I do that?" Tyler's eyes followed your line of sight. "It's not a big deal, princess. They're badges of honor, as all marks from you are." You looked down to where his fingers grazed your skin and realized he was right. A light blush crept up to your cheeks. "I have to admit...I quite like the idea of you marking me." Tyler grinned wolfishly. "Now you know how I feel."

They match each other's freak 😌🤭

Lily made eye contact with you, noting your expression, your's and Tyler's wet hair, and the hold he still had on your hand. A knowing grin spread across her face. "I think I know exactly who used all the hot water."

Hahah I love that Lily just instantly knows 😅

Destination: Motel Feelings

Pairing: Tyler Owens x plus size!reader

Summary: Two friends. One bed. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: it’s just a whole lot of smut, with a droplet of fluff. Cursing, use of pet names, self-esteem/body image issues. Oral (M & F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), pretty fluffy sex overall.

“At least this motel is cleaner than the last one,” you mumbled as you entered the main lobby.

The motel was small, as most were in bumbfuck, Oklahoma, but it would have to do for the night.

“Who’s bunking with me this round?” Boone asked.

“Dexter’s with you. Dani and Lily are sharing, and then it’s me and Tyler,” you answered.

Since the six of you traveled together regularly, you’d made it a point to rotate sleeping arrangements to make it fair. This week was your week to bunk with Tyler. You always hated when it was just you and him, not because of anything he did, but because of how awkward you felt the entire time.

It wasn’t your fault he was gorgeous and charming and funny and smart…the combination of which made you want him with an unhealthy desperation. He was your favorite person to be around, but never alone. You needed a buffer to keep you from being incredibly awkward, or gods forbid, telling him how you felt.

You were certain Tyler wouldn’t be mean about your feelings or make you feel bad, but you were equally certain you weren’t his type. You’d met a fair amount of guys that looked as good as him, and not a single one of them was ever interested in you. You weren’t ashamed of your body, but you weren’t exactly comfortable being the only overweight person in your friend group.

You'd long since accepted the curves that came with puberty, curves that had only grown as you'd gotten older. Not a single part of you was what you would deem small, other than perhaps your height. You had large boobs and the back pain to accompany them, along with hips and an ass you were convinced could stop traffic. Your stomach had long been your biggest hurdle--and your main point of self-consciousness. Suffice it to say you were soft...and Tyler was very much not.

"You don't sound excited to be sharing a room with me, darlin'," Tyler teased lightly from behind you.

You chuckled in response. "I think I'd sell my kidney to stay in a hotel room without any of you for a week."

The rest of the team laughed while Boone and Dexter stepped up to the counter to check-in. Dani went next, grabbing room keys for her and Lily. The four of them went upstairs to throw their bags down, with a promise to be back in the lobby in 10 minutes for dinner.

You and Tyler smiled at the older woman behind the counter as you gave your name to check-in. The woman frowned slightly as she looked at her computer screen.

"Is everything alright?" Tyler asked gently.

"Well, it seems there was a bit of a mix up," she began. "We actually only have one room available."

"That's fine," you reasoned. "We only need one."

The woman nodded, but her expression still looked mildly uncomfortable. "It's--uh--it's a single."

You froze, contemplating the meaning of her words.

"Is there a couch?" Tyler asked, saving you from the discomfort.

She nodded, a look of relief crossing her face. "There is!"

"Then we'll take it," Tyler said with a smile.

A few minutes later, the two of you had your keys and were on the way upstairs to your room. You unlocked the door and barked out a laugh as you took in the space.

Tyler stepped in behind you and let out a low groan. "That's the couch?"

You laughed harder. "I didn't know they made couches that small. It's comical."

Tyler sighed and tossed his bag onto the freakishly small couch. "It's only for a night, right?"

You winced slightly. "At least two...possibly three."

"Shit," he mumbled.

"Ty, I'm not making you sleep on that tiny thing. You're over 6 feet tall...I don't even think you'll fit."

You both turned your attention to the bed on the other side of the room. Somehow, the queen sized bed looked dauntingly small to you.

"I'll, uh, take the couch," you offered.

"This thing looks like it's older than we are," Tyler muttered. "I wouldn't want my worst enemy sleeping on this thing, let alone you."

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely a text from Boone or Lily reminding you about dinner. "We'll figure it out after dinner. I'm starving."

Tyler nodded his agreement and followed you back down to the lobby where the rest of the team was waiting.

**********

By the time dinner was over and you'd said goodnight to the rest of the team, you'd nearly forgotten the predicament awaiting you in your room. Reality smacked you in the face the moment you opened the door and stepped back into the small space, a deep sigh settling in your chest.

"Why don't you get a shower first and I'll figure out how to make this work," Tyler said gently.

You just nodded, not wanting to consider the most logical solution to this particular issue. You grabbed your bag and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You made quick work of your shower and nighttime preparations, slipping on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of very short shorts.

You stared in the mirror for a moment, lost in a wave of self-consciousness. Every dimple in your thighs was visible, the soft flesh jiggling with your movements. You'd forgotten to throw a pair of pj pants in your bag before leaving home this time, so the shorts were all you had. You sighed, knowing it wasn't gonna get any better than it currently was, so you grabbed your bag and went back out into the room.

Tyler was lying on the floor, a singular blanket and pillow his only form of bedding.

A light laugh accompanied your words as you took in the sight before you. "What the heck are you doing?"

Tyler looked up with an uncomfortable shrug. "Sleeping on the floor. What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're insane," you said lightly. "I don't even want to know how disgusting these floors are...I would much rather sleep on the couch than let you sleep on the floor all night."

"Having sat on the couch already, I can promise you the floor is more comfortable."

You scoffed. "Impossible." You crossed the room and dropped onto the couch with an oomph. "Jesus--this thing is a rock."

Tyler laughed at your obvious discomfort. "I told you. There's no way I'm letting you sleep on that thing. At least one of us needs to get a good night's sleep."

"So why don't you sleep on the bed and I'll sleep on the floor."

Tyler glared at you. "Not happening, sweetheart. My mama raised me better than that."

You rolled your eyes. "No offense, Tyler, but I think you're a little too old to sleep on the floor these days. You're gonna wake up with a slipped disk and a hernia."

His laughter brought a smile to your face. "I'm not that old, (Y/N)."

"Well I'm definitely that old--and I'm a year younger than you."

He smirked as he pulled himself off the floor. "You're taking the bed, you muppet."

Your jaw dropped, a choked laugh escaping your throat. "Did you just call me a muppet?"

"Yes I did and I don't regret it." He grabbed his bag and rushed past you to get to the bathroom before you could find something to throw at him.

"Muppet," you murmured under your breath. "He's the muppet."

"I heard that!"

"Get in the shower, Owens!" you laughingly yelled back.

You unceremoniously dropped onto the bed, a sigh breezing past your lips. You were tired and the thought of having the entire bed to yourself was a pleasant one...until you sat up and looked at the makeshift bed on the cold, hard, unforgiving floor.

You knew there was no way you could let him sleep on the floor. While the comments about his age had been a joke, you were both in your 30s now and sleeping wrong could genuinely fuck you up for days. You absolutely couldn't make him sleep on the damn floor.

You glanced at the empty bed beside you and groaned. Sharing a bed with Tyler ranked very highly on your list of most horrifying situations. There was a high probability you would actually combust from embarrassment alone. What if you did something weird in your sleep? What if you kicked him or pushed him out of the bed? What if you accidentally tried to cuddle with him? You would die of mortification.

While you were contemplating all the ways this could go horribly wrong, Tyler came out from the bathroom clad in his boxers and a scandalously tight white t-shirt. You bit your lip, looking away from him hurriedly. You could feel the blush heating your cheeks and you prayed he wouldn't notice.

You cleared your throat quietly before gesturing to the bed beside you. You couldn't quite meet his gaze as you said, "You're not sleeping on the floor, so you might as well take half the bed."

Tyler raised his eyebrows even though he knew you weren't looking his way. "You sure, sweetheart? I don't wanna impose."

You shrugged. "We're adults, Ty. I think we can manage to share a bed for a couple nights without making it weird."

He noticed you still hadn't met his gaze, a fact he chose to ignore. Instead, he opted to use the moment to his advantage, blue-green eyes sweeping over your form, noting the exposed, soft flesh of your legs. He had twin urges to sink his teeth into your thighs and feel them wrap around his head until he couldn't breathe. He quickly shook the image out of his head before those impure thoughts could make their way below the belt line.

"We can put a pillow in the middle if you want," he offered sweetly.

"The bed is a little small for that--besides, we only have three pillows on this damn bed and I'm using two of them."

Tyler chuckled as he scooped up his pillow from the floor and placed it beside yours. He lowered himself onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip with his weight. "Why do you get two pillows and I only get one?"

"Because you like to sleep as flat as possible like some sort of psychopath."

Tyler laughed heartily, his grin widening as he took in the small smile gracing your face. "A psychopath?"

"Retaliation for calling me a muppet."

He laughed again, smacking you gently with his pillow. The action earned him a glare, followed by a slow, teasing smirk. His mind went blank as you finally made eye contact with him. Your pupils swallowed up nearly all of your irises thanks to the dim lighting and the singular lamp on his bedside table cast the prettiest glow on your skin. The only thought that crossed his mind was the word 'radiant'.

He swallowed thickly, forcing the word back down his throat before he could blurt it out. You'd never once given him an indication you felt the same way he did, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.

"Alright, weirdo. Turn off that light so we can go to sleep," you murmured, breaking the spell of the moment.

Tyler did as you asked before settling more comfortably into the bed. You laid on your side, back to him, and he felt the urge to run his fingers through your hair--yet another urge he immediately suppressed.

He rolled over so his back was to you and let out a soft sigh. He had to admit he was tired, but being in the same bed with you and not touching you was almost painful, enough so that he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep.

"Goodnight, Tyler," you whispered softly, keeping your eyes trained on the wall, even though you desperately wanted to look at him one more time.

"Goodnight, (Y/N/N)." He paused. "Just do me one favor."

"Hmm?"

"Keep your icy ass feet away from me."

You laughed, swinging your leg back to plant your foot against his bare calf. He swore and nearly jumped at the sensation.

"They're like icicles!"

You giggled. "They're not that bad you drama queen."

He rolled over enough to glare at your back. "That's drama king to you."

You shot a matching glare over your shoulder before you both burst out laughing. You swatted his arm affectionately, trying not to marvel at the firm muscles beneath your palm. "Go to sleep."

He smiled as he faced away again. "Goodnight, icicle."

He heard your breathy laugh as you murmured, "Goodnight, drama king."

**********

The exhaustion must have kicked in at some point because you could barely remember falling asleep when you awoke in the middle of the night. It took you several moments to orient yourself, having forgotten where you were.

In those moments before lucidity settled in, you could feel a radiating heat at your back and you instinctively curled into it, pressing against something very firm.

Then you felt it--breath gently blowing against your neck, something heavy draped across your middle, and someone's very large body pressed against you from head to foot.

Tyler. His name slammed into your brain, pushing you firmly into wide-awake territory. You quickly realized it was his body wrapped around yours, his breath caressing your neck, his arm holding you tightly against him.

You laid there, utterly frozen, as you contemplated what to do. His grip on you was surprisingly firm, preventing you from simply rolling out of his grasp, and there wasn't much room on your side of the bed to escape to anyway.

Somewhere in Tyler's subconscious, he must have felt the shift in your body and the urge to ease your tension was one he couldn't ignore even in his dreaming state.

His grip on you tightened even more, pulling you back against his chest. He pressed forward into you and you shifted slightly in an attempt to distance yourself. In doing so, you wiggled your ass right against his semi-hard member, eliciting a soft groan from Tyler's lips.

With absolute horror, you felt him start to harden even more, the urge to melt into the floor growing with each moment. You didn't want him to wake up and be mortified, so you tried to move away from him without waking him.

Your movements stirred him into awareness, the current situation coming into focus as he awoke. You felt the moment Tyler woke up fully, his body going rigid against yours before rolling away from you with shocking speed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," he muttered in embarrassment. "I-I didn't mean--shit. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. "You were sleeping--it happens."

He groaned and rubbed his face wearily. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His voice was low and pained, the tone making your chest ache. "You didn't. It's alright." You reached out a hand to brush against his arm. "Hey...look at me."

His body remained tense beneath your fingers. "Ty," you urged.

He finally turned to look at you and he found himself surprised at your open expression. You didn't look angry or upset, in fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say you looked intrigued.

"No more apologizing," you ordered when he opened his mouth with a clear apology on his lips. "I didn't mind."

Your eyes widened as you realized what you'd just admitted, a bright pink blush quickly deepening your skin.

Emboldened by your words, Tyler leaned towards you slightly. "Which part? Me holding you? Or my obvious physical attraction to you?"

You exhaled sharply. "Your what?"

Tyler's eyes scanned your face and he was certain he saw a whole lot more than intrigue written there--he'd even say it was desire. "Oh come on princess. You felt my reaction..."

You blanched further. "It's-it's a physiological response--"

"To you," he added firmly. "A physiological response to you."

Your mouth opened and closed in an embarrassing representation of a fish before you finally pushed out one word, "Me?"

Tyler smirked, looking around the room. "You're the only one here, sweetheart."

You looked down at yourself before looking back at him, repeating the motion twice before you sputtered, "You-you. No--you...no way. You can't."

He smiled at your fumbled words. "I can and I do. I've never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do."

"Physically?" you gasped in disbelief.

He chuckled. "Physically and emotionally, actually."

Your draw dropped further. "What?"

Tyler stood up and moved to your side of the bed, kneeling down in front of you. "Let me make this very explicitly clear, (Y/N). Yes, I find you attractive. Yes, I want you. Yes, I think you're incredible. No, I don't just wanna fuck. Yes, I want to be with you."

You stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Am I dreaming?" you whispered.

He shook his head and gently brushed a thumb against your outer thigh. "We're both wide awake, baby."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "That we're awake? Very."

"No--that you want me."

Tyler grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them between his. "I am completely certain I want you in every meaning of the word. I would, however, like to start with getting to know you...biblically."

You let out a breathy laugh. "I would ask if you're drunk, but I already know the answer."

"Sober as a priest, darlin'."

"So you're just insane then?"

He cocked his head to the side. "I've never felt more sane in my life. I've wanted you since the day you walked into my life, (Y/N). Only way I'm walking away now is if you tell me you don't feel the same."

You stared at him, a look of confused wonder on your face. Never did you think Tyler Owens would be saying this to you...but here he was, literally on his knees, telling you everything you've wanted to hear for so long.

"Of course I feel the same," you said softly. "How could I not?"

He smiled as he slowly pulled himself up, but instead of rising to his full height, he began to slowly crawl onto the bed, forcing you to lay down to accommodate him.

He stopped once you were fully trapped beneath him, lips so close you could feel his warm breath. "Stop me if this isn't what you want," he whispered.

You lifted your head to close the gap between you, lips pressing firmly against his. He groaned into the kiss, immediately deepening it.

You slid your tongue along the seam of his lips, silently begging him to let you in. He obliged, tongue meeting yours with fervent passion. He tangled his fingers into your hair with one hand, while the other slipped under your shirt to gently rub at your hips.

You were inclined to allow him to kiss you until you passed out from lack of oxygen, but he finally pulled away just enough to suck down a lungful of air.

"If I'd known kissing you felt like that, I would have done this years ago," he murmured.

You chuckled breathlessly. "I haven't been kissed like that in a long time--perhaps ever, if I'm honest."

"Then allow me to make a promise. I will kiss you like that every day for the rest of your life."

You gasped. "That's...a rather intense commitment, Ty."

"Five years, (Y/N)."

"I'm gonna die in five years?"

Tyler chuckled and shook his head. "God I hope not. I meant, I have wanted to do that for five years...so no, it's not as big of a commitment as you'd think. I'd think of it more as an honor."

You stared at him in silence for a moment. "Who taught you to talk like that?"

He grinned, but you could see a light blush dusting his cheeks even in the dark room. "I, uh--I've read a lot of those books you told me about."

"Books I've read?"

He nodded.

"I had no idea."

"Well I knew how much you liked them and I was curious...so I started reading one and I couldn't stop. They actually gave me some ideas for things I'd like to do with you."

"I'm not quite sure why that's so hot, but it is. So if you could please kiss me again, I'd appreciate it."

Tyler grinned, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss and pulled him even closer to you, desperate to feel as much of him as you could.

He felt the same way, right hand sliding farther up your side under your shirt, exposing more of your flesh as he went.

His thumb brushed the underside of your breast and he groaned into the kiss as he realized it meant you'd forgone a bra. He moved his hand to properly cup your breast, kneading the supple flesh before brushing a thumb over your peaked nipple.

You gasped softly and you reached for the hem of his shirt to tug it off. He allowed you to remove it and proceeded to reach for yours. A wave of self-consciousness hit you and you grabbed his wrists to stop him from lifting it further.

"Maybe we keep it on?" you said softly.

He looked confused. "Why?"

You didn't answer right away. You didn't want to admit to the feelings of self-doubt or acknowledge your body image issues, but you also didn't like the idea of being fully exposed to him. Especially now that you could see exactly how well-sculpted he was.

His eyes scanned your face, looking for an answer to his question. You weren't making eye contact with him, but you weren't telling him to stop, which only added to his growing confusion.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No!" you said quickly. "I just--I don't..."

The confusion on his face was almost endearing. He wanted to see you, touch you, kiss you...and he couldn't understand why you didn't want him to.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he whispered.

You shook your head immediately. "It's not you at all, Tyler. It's me."

He frowned. "I don't understand."

You let out an exasperated sigh, realizing you really would have to be straightforward. "I don't really like the way I look without clothes on." Your voice was low, barely a whisper, but he still heard every word.

Realization hit him like an EF5 tornado. "Who made you feel that way?"

The harsh tone of his voice surprised you, so much so that you finally made eye contact with him again. His eyes were dark and there was a hint of simmering anger in them.

When you didn't answer, he asked again. "Who made you feel like you weren't beautiful?"

You exhaled slowly. "Do you want a list?"

His nostrils flared and he balled his hands into fists. "No one has the right to make negative comments on your appearance. No one, including you. I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel like you weren't a fucking prize, but that's their loss. If you don't feel comfortable showing me your body yet, then I won't push you, but I need you to know I want to see every inch of you...so I can worship every inch of you."

Your lips parted in surprise as you let his words sink in. There was no hint of deception in his voice or his gaze, and it gave you a surge of much-needed confidence.

You sat up just enough to pull your shirt up and over your head before letting your back hit the sheets. Your pulse was racing, breathing ragged, and you couldn't quite make yourself look at him.

Tyler was silent as he beheld your exposed torso, gaze sweeping appreciatively over every dip and curve, mentally marking every spot he wanted to spend extra time on.

He finally looked back up at your face, noticing instantly that your eyes were trained on the ceiling. "Baby. Look at me."

The dominance in his voice, while gentle, left no room for argument. You met his adoring gaze and the last dredges of worry left your body, taking the tension along with it.

He watched your body relax and a small smile formed on his lips. He leaned forward so he hovered over you once more and murmured, "You are absolutely exquisite."

With those four words, you melted, becoming a pliable instrument to his will. He kissed you softly before beginning his descent down your jaw, your neck, to your collarbone, and finally to your breasts.

"I think I'll stop here for a while," he mumbled against your soft skin.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you slid your fingers into his hair. He was true to his word, not a single inch of skin left untouched by either his mouth or hands.

The growing need for him was starting to become more prominent, the slick gathering between your thighs almost to an embarrassing level. As much as you were enjoying the attention he paid to your breasts, you needed to feel him elsewhere.

Before you could voice the need, Tyler continued his descent down your stomach, kissing every little mark he found. He reveled in the feeling of softness beneath his hands, wanting nothing more than to touch your body forever.

"Tyler," you whimpered, need evident in your voice.

He chuckled against your skin. "So impatient."

You squirmed slightly, desperate for some form of friction, a need he, himself, was also feeling. He hooked his fingers in the sides of your shorts and you lifted your hips to allow him to remove the last scrap of fabric from your body.

The sound that slipped past Tyler's lips could only be described as a growl. "That tiny bit of fabric was all that was between me and all of this?"

You nodded, unable to speak as he slipped a finger between your folds to collect your slick. He brought the finger to his mouth and sucked it clean, moaning softly at your taste.

"I knew you would be delicious."

He dropped to his knees off the edge of the bed, then grabbed your hips and tugged you towards him. A squeal of surprise escaped you, which brought a smirk to his lips.

"I wanted a better angle." With that, he threw your legs over his shoulders and dove into your pussy.

Your moans immediately drowned out any of the other sounds in the room, and even the ambient noise from outside. Tyler was incredibly skilled with his mouth, even more than you'd always imagined.

His tongue swirled your clit as he slipped one finger into you, gently curling it against the soft, spongey spot that made your toes curl. Your hips jacked off the bed in response, causing him to drape an arm across your abdomen to hold you in place.

"More, Tyler," you begged.

He grinned and added another finger, increasing the pace of the thrusts and his ministrations on your clit. Your hands clawed at the sheets as you neared your peak, desperate pleas to not stop mixed with your moans of pleasure.

Tyler, of course, did not stop. He wanted you to cum as much as you wanted it. He could feel how close you were, your pussy was squeezing his fingers so tightly it was becoming harder to move them. You kept trying to move your hips to grind on his face for even more friction, but he held you in place.

With a final flick of his tongue, you fell over the edge, waves of pleasure filling your senses. Tyler didn't stop until your moans turned to soft whimpers and you squirmed away from him.

He crawled back onto the bed, watching you as you came down from your high. He was certain you'd never looked more beautiful. When he said as much, you blushed deeply and averted your gaze.

"Oh come on, princess. Don't get all shy on me now."

You giggled lightly and looked at him again. He looked so damn good it was nearly offensive. You reached for his boxers with a murmured, "May I?"

Instead of answering, he stood up and removed his boxers quickly. You bit your lip at the sight of his very large member. The man gave off big dick energy, so you really shouldn't have been surprised.

You licked your lips absentmindedly as you looked at him. You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and flicked your gaze to his face. He was surprised by the hunger evident in your expression and he suddenly felt his need for you intensify.

He took a step towards you as if to crawl back on top of you, but you shook your head. "Lie down," you commanded softly.

The look in your eyes had him obeying immediately. As soon as he'd laid down, you climbed onto him, straddling his thigh. Your soft hand wrapped firmly around his cock and you began to stroke him slowly, earning soft sounds of enjoyment from him.

You smirked as you took in his expression, pleasure evident on his face. You lowered yourself, taking him into your mouth with a soft moan of your own. His hand was instantly in your hair, grip tightening as you started moving.

You swirled your tongue around his head before sucking tightly. You relaxed your throat and continued to take more of him into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. Anything your mouth couldn't take, your hand pleasured.

His moans spurred you on and guided your motions. You picked up on the subtle things that seemed to provide him more pleasure and you focused on those. Your own enjoyment was evident in the moans you made around his cock and the way you occasionally rubbed your pussy against his thigh, desperately seeking some relief.

Tyler could feel his orgasm fast approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum yet. With a strong tug on your hair, he lifted your head off his cock. You whined in annoyance, a small pout on your face when you met his gaze.

"Sorry, baby, but I'd like this to last."

Your expression softened and you shifted your body to straddle his hips. You leaned forward to kiss him deeply. He met your lips hungrily, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue delved into your mouth.

You gently brushed your pussy against his cock, eliciting needy moans from both of you.

"I don't think I can wait any longer," Tyler murmured.

"Me neither," you admitted. You sat back up, an odd expression he couldn't name on your face.

"You alright, sugar?"

You bit your lip. "Could I...could I ride you?"

A wide grin spread across Tyler's face. "'Course you can."

You weren't accustomed to being on top, but it was something you really wanted to try with him. You gripped his cock and slowly lowered yourself down onto him, gasps and whimpers leaving your lips as you took all of him.

Tyler's grip on your hips tightened, a low groan leaving his throat as he watched his cock disappear inside you. You shook slightly, so he rubbed soothing circles into your hips and whispered, "Just relax, baby. I've got you."

You nodded and took a deep breath, allowing your body time to adjust to his considerable size. You placed your hands against his chest, using them for leverage as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down onto his cock.

The sensation was incredible...and the control was utterly intoxicating. You started to move faster, spurred on by the way his fingers dug into your flesh and the sounds of pleasure escaping his parted lips.

After several minutes, your thighs began to burn and your motions slowed. Tyler noticed your energy waning, so he pulled you down flush against his chest and kissed you deeply. He thrust up into you a couple times before flipping you onto your back.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured as he began to slowly thrust into you.

His movements were slow and calculated, leaving you utterly breathless. Your nails scrapped along his shoulders and back, moans slipping past your lips with each thrust. "Tyler..." you whimpered.

He nipped at your collarbone in response to his name, the sound coming from your lips was easily the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

He pulled himself up onto his knees, tugging both of your legs up to rest against his chest. The new position elevated your hips at just the right angle for each thrust to press firmly against your sweet spot.

The chorus of broken moans coming from you mixed with the sounds your mingled bodies made to create the most intoxicating symphony Tyler'd ever heard.

There was not a single thought in your head other than the overwhelming pleasure you were on the receiving end of. You were lost in it--in him. Your nails dug roughly into his biceps as you clung to him with all your strength.

Gasps of his name left you, along with desperate pleas to keep going. Tyler pushed past the pain in his arms as you drew blood, his sole focus on making sure you reached your peak. He watched your face contort in pleasure, chest heaving, eyes closed, moans dripping from your open mouth.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on his blue-green ones. The moment your eyes met, you fell apart with a fractured scream of his name. The muscles of your core clenched tightly around him, forcing him to a slower pace.

Tyler watched you in awe, utterly enraptured by the sheer magnitude of the moment. Your legs shook as he took them in his hands and gently lowered them back to the bed.

Your hands had fallen from his arms, but you now reached for him. "Ty."

He leaned forward, placing both his palms on the bed beside your head, caging you beneath him once again. His thrusts had slowed considerably, but you knew he needed his own release. You could see it in the tension lining his jaw and the desperation in his eyes.

You nipped his jaw affectionately, earning a low chuckle from him. "I want you to cum inside me," you murmured.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest at your words. His pace immediately picked back up, now chasing his own release. "You feel incredible, baby."

You sighed sweetly, fingers touching his tanned skin and tangling in his hair. "So do you."

His moans mixed with pants of your name, and he dug one hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, clinging to you desperately. "I can't get enough of you. So perfect for me."

You moaned softly at his words, loving the praise coming from him. You could tell he was close as his thrusts became more erratic.

You pressed kisses to his jaw and the column of his throat before whispering, "Cum for me, Tyler. Please, baby, I need it."

Tyler groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he spilled his seed deep inside you. He moaned your name against your lips, thrusts slowing to nothing. He kissed your jaw before collapsing on top of you, heavy pants leaving his mouth.

You kissed the top of his head and rubbed your fingers soothingly over his back. You could feel some of the marks you'd left on his skin, a slight embarrassment sinking into you.

"You were incredible," he murmured against your skin. "So much better than I'd imagined...and I've imagined it a lot."

You giggled lightly at his admission. "I might have imagined it once or twice myself."

He lifted his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And? Did I meet your expectations?"

"No," you said honestly, a small smile on your face. You saw his smirk fade slightly as you moved closer. "You exceeded them."

The tension in his face eased to a genuine smile. He pressed his lips against yours in a sweet kiss that still managed to make your toes curl.

Tyler slowly lifted himself off you, softening cock sliding out of you along with your mixed spends. You let out a soft whimper, which earned you a sweet smile and a loving kiss.

"I'm coming right back, princess. Just wanna clean up."

You watched him walk away to the bathroom, leaving you to wonder if you should try and get up too. After all, you needed cleaned up just as badly as he did.

He saved you from having to make that decision when he came back moments later with a warm washcloth. Your expression softened considerably when you realized he'd brought it for you.

"What's that face for?" he asked softly.

"Just appreciating how sweet you are."

He smiled. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't think I was just gonna leave you here with this mess." His tone was light, though slightly chastising.

"I've never had someone take care of me after sex," you admitted, a soft blush gracing your cheeks.

Tyler looked surprised as he slowly began to clean you up. "Clearly you've been sleeping with the wrong men."

You chuckled softly, even as you winced from the over-stimulation between your legs. "Looks like I made the right choice this time."

Tyler made sure you were completely clean and dry before responding. "I think we both did."

Your eyes brightened with emotion and you reached for him in a silent plea. He tossed the rag behind him towards the bathroom before crawling back into bed.

He grabbed you firmly, pulling you into his chest. You curled up against him, head resting against the muscle of his pectoral. You felt him brush his fingers down your arm, the movement affectionate and possessive.

You kissed his chest, a small sigh leaving your lips as you settled in. You felt the exhaustion coming to claim you and you could tell by Tyler's even breathing that it was coming for him too.

As you closed your eyes, your foolish brain began to overthink every moment of the night. You wondered if he would regret his choices in the light of day, or if he would want to actually have a real relationship with you.

Tyler felt the tension in your body and his grip on you tightened. "Turn your brain off, princess."

You inhaled sharply before letting out a soft chuckle. "How'd you know?"

"I know you. I can practically hear your brain overthinking," he teased. "Whatever your anxiety says is wrong. I'm in this for the long haul, okay?"

You exhaled heavily as if releasing all those negative thoughts. "I love you, Tyler," you whispered so softly he had to strain to hear.

His heart skipped a beat and a slow smile spread across his face. He nuzzled into your hair, his grip on your soft body tightening. "I love you too, princess."

The soft words of affection were the last you shared before falling asleep in each other's arms.

**********

The morning light shining in through the windows woke you, a groan of annoyance leaving you as you tried to block out the light.

Tyler's responding grumble sent shivers through your body, making you curl in closer to him. You felt his lips graze your forehead, as he said in a voice heavy with sleep, "Mornin', darlin'."

"Don't wanna," you groused.

Tyler chuckled lightly. "I know baby, but we gotta."

"Five more minutes."

He kissed your forehead again before untangling himself from you. "I'll give you ten. I'm gonna jump in the shower."

You whimpered as his warmth left you, but you quickly rolled over into the spot he'd just vacated. You sighed softly as you curled up, the residual heat from his body warming you.

He chuckled again and thought to himself that he could get used to this--waking up beside you. You looked even more beautiful in the morning light and he found himself excited to tell everyone he came across that you were his. He kissed you one last time before going to shower.

You heard the shower turn on and you debated the merits of joining him. You didn't want to get out of the warm bed, but you also knew you had to. A nice hot shower with the man of your dreams did sound rather enticing.

You groaned as you pulled yourself out of bed on slightly unstable legs. You slowly made your way to the bathroom, slipping in quietly. You could see Tyler's outline behind the glass, his back to you as he reached for his body wash.

You crossed the short distance, opening the shower door and stepping inside. "Mind if I join you?"

Tyler turned to you with a grin. "I'd love it, actually."

You reached a hand out for the body wash and washcloth he held. "Let me."

He smiled and handed them to you, but when you stepped closer, you saw the marks on his biceps--crescent moon shaped scabs. "Oh my god," you gasped. "Did I do that?"

Tyler's eyes followed your line of sight. "It's not a big deal, princess. They're badges of honor, as all marks from you are."

You bit your lip, clearly unconvinced.

"Baby." His voice was stern enough you immediately turned your attention to his face. "I'm okay. I promise."

You relaxed, the clear calm in his expression easing your worry. "Okay."

He grabbed your hips and tugged you towards him, a little smile on his face. "Besides, you've got a nice bite mark on that pretty collarbone of yours...and some finger shaped bruises on these sexy hips."

You looked down to where his fingers grazed your skin and realized he was right. A light blush crept up to your cheeks. "I have to admit...I quite like the idea of you marking me."

Tyler grinned wolfishly. "Now you know how I feel."

You giggled softly, allowing him to press his body more firmly against you, lips seeking yours for a gentle kiss.

When he attempted to deepen the kiss, you gently pushed him back. "We need to actually bathe, remember? The team's expecting us for breakfast soon."

He groaned. "They can wait."

"Tyler!" you yelped when he pulled you back in, pressing a warm kiss to your lips.

You could feel his cock begin to harden against your abdomen, his hands roaming your body like he wanted to memorize it. You sighed softly as he gently messaged your skin, your need for him growing with each passing moment.

"Come on, princess. Let me make you feel good," he begged against your ear, fingers dangerously close to your core.

"Please," you whimpered.

Tyler grinned, nipping at your earlobe, then your pulse point, focusing there as his fingers dipped into your dripping pussy. A soft moan of pleasure left your lips, head tilting back to lean against the cool tiles.

"I'm thinking we might just skip breakfast all together," Tyler murmured.

You laughed breathily, grabbing his face to plant another kiss to his swollen lips. "I think I'm okay with that."

Tyler spent the next 45 minutes making you moan his name as he gave you overwhelming pleasure. He also used up all the hot water in the entire motel, which you discovered when the two of you finally made it out of your room to meet the rest of the team.

"Dude, I had to take a freezing cold shower," Boone was grumbling as you and Tyler walked downstairs.

"Me too!" Dani chimed in. "Someone must have used all the hot water."

A sheepish smile graced your face as you overheard their conversation. Tyler let out a quiet chuckle, hand squeezing yours gently.

Lily made eye contact with you, noting your expression, your's and Tyler's wet hair, and the hold he still had on your hand. A knowing grin spread across her face. "I think I know exactly who used all the hot water."

[asheepinfrance]

nurse... nurse she's out and she's art posting. god... oh god nurse. Anyways I wrote this in like 20 minutes and did not proof read it but i love my boy! i love my little rat man! and he deserves a little post. will have a patrick post soon :))

Being 18 is fucking weird, man. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. There’s still acne cropping up where it’s most noticeable, sweat when there’s no heat, but with all the added pressures of legal adulthood, and, worst of all, a just-above-teenage mind that insists on wandering. If Art could have gotten through a single senior year English class without staring at that one girl in the third row and having to cross his legs, which he swears is subtle, he’d be convinced of miracles. But it’s summer break now, and that means he’s free to do as he pleases. As he pleases, for the time being, is lounge on his porch steps, throwing a tennis ball up… and then down… and then up again… then back down. Fascinating stuff, really. That’s just about as satisfying as a sticky, early-June day can be until he sees just about the prettiest girl, like, ever, walk by. She must be the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on. He’s convinced of it. She’s practically strutting down the sidewalk, which is so uneven it should be considered a safety hazard, like she owns the place. Does she? Who cares. Pretty girl. Pretty, pretty girl with pretty, long legs and pretty long hair and oh jesus christ, why is she looking this way-

 “Hey, you, uh… dropped this, so…” Oh god, she’s standing so close. When did she get all the way here? If he reached out a hand just the slightest bit, he’d be touching her soft-looking thighs and it’s enough to leave him panting. Thank god it’s hot, at least he’ll have a valid-sounding excuse for it. He’s vaguely aware that she’s holding out a tennis ball that he’d apparently dropped… he genuinely didn’t notice a thing. “Yeah, I- Huh! Yeah, thanks.” And now he’s standing there, and she’s standing there, and he needs to get her to talk again. He didn’t memorize her voice the first time. “Do I know you?” He leans back on his palms, knee over knee, and he’s sure he looks absolutely badass. The smile that grows on her face shows it’s something more akin to ‘child with a playground crush’. “No, I’m just visiting. My cousins, I mean. His name’s Cooper, you know him?” Cooper. As in Cooper Friedman with the giant glasses and chronic B.O? How the hell are they related?? “Cooper? Aw, man, that’s my best bud. We should all… hang out or something while you’re in town. You know… since me and him already hang out all the time…”

She quirks a brow, barely suppressed grin on her face. “You hang out with Cooper?” He’s about to insist that yes, they’re just the bestest of friends, when she laughs. She laughs and it’s so real and raw and human and he can feel his lips curling into that stupid, mousey smile he’s so unconfident about. She doesn’t seem horrified by it. Win. “You’re too pretty for that shit, dude-”

“Art! It’s Art.” How cool and not desperate sounding at all. Awesome, bad-ass, tough guy behavior, really. “Well then, you’re too pretty for that shit, Art.” Oh wow. Oh wow, she said his name. She said his name and he finally understands the universe. The universe is one pretty girl saying your name with the sweetness usually reserved for someone much nearer and dearer than a perfect strange. 

Oh my god. Did she say pretty? The realization hits him in the stomach like the many poorly-aimed (purposefully or otherwise) tennis balls that he’s taken to the gut. He’s sat there gaping like a fish, and she tilts her head with a grin, seemingly unbothered. If anything, she’s amused. He’ll happily make a fool of himself around the clock to see her smile like that. After a few more seconds of fool-making, she just shrugs the interaction off, seemingly having found as much entertainment in him as she could. She offers him a little finger wave, a smile that’s just a bit different than the other ones, and a “Bye, Art” that could kill a man. Specifically, a man named Art Donaldson, who’s still staring at her with stars in his eyes. “Yeah… yeah, bye” and he’s still grinning and he has to repeat his senior-year English routine of crossing his legs. She doesn’t mention it when she walks away, so she must not have seen. He’s silently thanking the universe for his subtlety. 

She absolutely noticed.

[lunaroserites]

What Couldn’t Be

Paring: Established Bucky X Fem!Reader (Sugar)

Summery: Just a snippet Sugar and Bucky. Part of the Sugar AU. Bucky has some pretty jarring thoughts about the future. Steve is a good friend. Bucky is absolutely smitten for Sugar. This is at the start of their relationship taking place before Too Sweet and Does Heaven Even Know You're Missing, and the Christmas Saga

Warnings: Bucky's POV, Talks of infertility (Male), Hydra, fluff, swearing, drinking, no use of Y/N, Not beta'd all mistakes are my own

This has been something I wanted to try writing about, I don't see many fics about Bucky being infertile, I feel Hydra would sterilize him, especially after that scene in TFATWS with Zemo.

Word Count: ~1000

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Catch up with Bucky and Sugar: Read Too Sweet here and Does Heaven Even Know You’re Missing here

Part One of the Christmas Saga here, Part Two here

Tags: @hisredheadedgoddess28

Divider by @cafekitsune

Hydra had done a lot of shitty things to him in the 70 plus years they had control of him. Some worse than others, some that in the grand scheme of things didn’t really matter to him. Sterilization being at the bottom of the list of shitty things they did. They did it because they would sell his body for intel and they didn’t want any unhappy accidents coming from that. 

It was at the bottom of the list because he honestly never thought he would have kids, never thought he’d find someone he would even dream of a future with. But here he was nursing a warm beer imagining owning a house upstate, a couple kids, Alpine and a dog all because he met you. His Sugar, the sweetest, kindest, drop dead gorgeous girl he was lucky enough to breathe the same air as. Who for some reason reciprocates those feelings. 

He was brooding, stewing in his own self pity at the bar in the tower after they got back from a mission. Steve could sense something was off with his friend, but wasn’t quite sure how to approach the situation. A glass of Tony’s finest whiskey was laid down in front of Bucky and Steve sat beside him. 

“Wanna tell me why you’re here nursing that warm piss water and not going home and crawling into bed with that sweet, pretty little thing that’s got you wrapped around her fingers,” Steve asked, sipping his own beer. Bucky’s phone buzzed as if in queue, you texted him wishing him a good night, telling him to be safe. He hadn’t told you he was back from his mission yet. 

“Can’t face her right now,” Bucky said solemnly, Steve raised an eyebrow and waited for him to elaborate. Bucky sighed and tipped the whiskey back, the day before he left for the mission, you two had been out enjoying a peaceful afternoon when you passed a baby and me shop, you had stopped and went inside, saying you needed to get a birthday gift for your best friends daughter who was turning 3 in a few weeks. You looked so happy and couldn’t stop smiling, picking up little outfits, before moving on, you found this toy thing that your god daughter wanted and said you’d be the number one auntie for getting it for her. 

Your family was also larger and you loved seeing your little cousins, watching them when you visited. He had seen pictures, and he saw how your face lit up when you would FaceTime them, or when you would see a baby in public, there was always a smile on your face. It killed him inside that he couldn’t give you a baby of your own that wasn’t at least half his. That earned sterilization a top spot on the list of shitty things Hydra did to him. 

“I can’t give her a family, a baby,” Steve’s eyebrows shot up at his friend's confession. The two of you had only been dating a couple months, but Steve knew Bucky was dead serious on locking you down if you’d have him. 

“Why not?” Steve asked, and the look Bucky gave him had his hands up in a placating manner. “Right, right,” Steve back tracked. 

“They had to take more from me,” Bucky wallowed. 

“Does she even want a baby of her own?” Steve, ever the pragmatic one, asked Bucky. Bucky looked at his friend, his brows furrowed. 

“What young woman doesn’t?” Bucky regretted the words as they came out. 

“A lot of new age gals don’t Buck, maybe she’s happy with just being an auntie,” Steve said. “Have you even asked her if she wants a baby in the future?” Bucky shook his head. 

“But I see the way her face lights up when she sees one, how happy she is to take care of them,” Bucky’s voice was sad. 

“She could just love kids, but might not want to have one of her own,” Steve reasoned. Bucky looked down at his hands and Steve clicked in on what was really bothering him. “You want one, with her,” Steve stated. 

Bucky nodded, his grip tightening on the whiskey glass in his metal hand, “never thought I would, but here I am, wanting one.” 

“Maybe Hydra stored some of your stuff before sterilizing you,” Steve said, Bucky looked at him like he was insane. “The government stored some of mine after the serum,” Steve’s cheeks flamed red, Bucky couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips. 

“Good to know punk,” Bucky mused, finishing his beer. 

“No, what I’m saying is, maybe Hydra stored some of yours for experimenting or some other fucked up shit,” Steve muttered, it was a long shot, but if it brought peace of mind to his friend he was willing to look into it. Bucky shook his head. 

“I won’t get my hopes up,” but he did appreciate Steve for trying. “I really should talk to her,” he said and Steve nodded. Bucky sighed and picked up his phone, dialling your number. “Hey Sugar, I’m back,” Steve could hear the happy squeal that left your lips as you chattered to Bucky, asking him if he was coming back to his apartment tonight. You were there watching Alpine for him. Steve could see the look of contentment and affection wash over Bucky’s face and it made his heart happy that his friend was happy. 

“I’ll be home soon Sugar, we’ll snuggle and eat some take away,” Bucky said softly, Steve was beaming at his friend and Bucky shot him a pitched look, mouthing ‘shut up.” Buvky hung up and sighed softly. 

“Talk to her, figure it out before it’s too late,” Steve said softly.

“I’m afraid it is too late, I’m in love with her, god I want to give her the world, watch her walk through it beaming as sunshine does,” Bucky said, standing and grabbing his coat. “See ya later punk.” 

Please let me know if you want more, have questions or thoughts about Sugar and Bucky.

Search the tag sugar!au on the blog to find anything relating to Sugar and Bucky!

[mymoonisgrey]

you, my love, are All I Need.

synopsis: After the tragedy of the Star Plasma Vessel incident, Satoru Gojo loses more than just his closest friend, Suguru Geto—he loses the one person who made the chaos of his world feel bearable. She was his light, his tether to something more human, and just when he dared to imagine a future with her, fate cruelly severed their bond. With her sudden disappearance in his third year at Jujutsu High, Satoru is left reeling, torn between his duties as the strongest sorcerer and the ache of searching for someone he may never find.

pairings: gojo satoru x reader. (og jujutsu au.)

chapter warnings: 18+, blood, mentions of war atmospheres, profanities, smut (flashback— sorry), body horror description.

wc : 7k+

all i need's playlist!

series masterlist.

a/n : and chapter 3 is out, im on a roll here. Do you guys like the plot so far? 😢

previously.

2006.

His dorm was always a mess, a clash of luxury and chaos that only Satoru could pull off. Designer jackets draped carelessly over his desk chair, empty sweet wrappers scattered across the floor, and the faint scent of his cologne—clean, crisp, and achingly familiar—lingering in the air. You were used to it, though. It was his space, and somehow, it always felt like yours, too. 

He stood by the edge of the bed, looking at you like he was starving. His half-unbuttoned shirt hung loosely off his broad shoulders, teasing glimpses of the defined muscle underneath, and his silver hair was tousled in a way that made him look both untouchable and utterly yours. 

Those impossibly blue eyes locked onto you with a heat that made your stomach flip. “C’mere.” he said, his voice low and commanding, yet so soft, and it was all you could do to obey. You were so drawn to him. Was this a red string theory? be believed in them— should you?

You took a hesitant step closer, but that wasn’t enough for him. He reached out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you flush against him. His hands slid to your waist, his thumbs brushing bare skin beneath your shirt, and the way he looked at you made your knees weak. 

“God, you’re so fucking pretty,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Every time I see you, I wanna rip this shit off and make you mine all over again.” 

“Satoru—” 

But your protest was cut off when he captured your lips in a kiss that stole the air from your lungs. It was all tongue and teeth, messy and desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands roamed your body, squeezing and kneading as he pressed you closer. 

He broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His gaze roved over you, dark and hungry, and he let out a low whistle. 

“Look at these,” he said, his hands coming up to cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, and he groaned. “Perfect fucking tits. I should bury my face in them and never come up for air, hm? Suck ‘em raw.” he emphasized with a firm and sharp pinch to your hardened— oh so perfect nipples under the flimsy fabric.

You blushed furiously, but he didn’t give you time to respond. His hands slid behind you, unhooking your bra with ease before tossing it aside. The cool air against your skin made you shiver, but the way he stared at you made heat pool low in your belly. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, leaning down to capture a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled over the sensitive bud before he grazed it lightly with his teeth, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips. 

“That’s it,” he said, pulling back to admire the way your chest heaved. “Let me hear you, baby. I wanna hear every little sound you make.” 

His hands moved to your shorts, tugging them down along with your underwear in one smooth motion. He groaned as he took you in, his eyes dark with lust. 

“Pretty pussy,” he muttered, his fingers brushing over your folds. “So wet already. All for me, huh?” 

You could barely think, let alone respond, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He pushed you back onto the bed, spreading your legs wide and kneeling between them. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he stared at you like you were his favorite meal. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh. “And you taste so fucking good, too. Can’t get enough of you.” 

The first swipe of his tongue against you made your back arch off the bed. He groaned at the taste, his hands tightening on your thighs as he dove back in. 

“Satoru—” you whimpered, your hands fisting the sheets. 

“Mm,” he hummed against you, pulling back just enough to smirk. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Too much?” 

You nodded, your chest heaving, but he just chuckled. “You can take it,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “This is just the warm-up, baby. Gotta get you nice and ready for me, don’t I? How else am I supposed to fuck this pretty little pussy without making sure she’s good and prepped?” 

The filthy words sent a shiver down your spine, and the way he looked at you—like he was ready to devour you whole—left you breathless. 

He went back to work, his tongue and lips driving you closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you felt tears prick your eyes as you gasped and whimpered beneath him. 

“Too much,” you cried, your hands reaching for him, trying to push him away. 

“Not yet,” he growled, his grip on your thighs tightening. “You’re gonna give me one more. Just one more, baby. You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

You couldn’t find the words to respond, but the way your body trembled beneath him was answer enough. He didn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to push you over the edge again. 

When you finally shattered, your cries echoing through the room, he pulled back, his lips glistening as he grinned down at you. “Good girl,” he said, his voice full of pride. 

You were still catching your breath when he stood, shrugging off his shirt and undoing his belt with deliberate slowness. “That was just the appetizer,” he said, his grin turning wicked. “Now, let’s see how much you can really take.” 

And as he climbed back over you, his body pressing against yours, you realized that he wasn’t going to stop until he’d completely unraveled you. 

He spread your legs impossibly wide, his strong hands roaming over the soft, milky expanse of your thighs, his touch deliberate and possessive. His fingers slid up, caressing your calf before reaching your ankle, where he leaned in and placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on the arch of your foot. His thumb pressed into the sole, sending a faint tingle up your leg, while his other fingers traced over your polished toenails, lingering on the glossy finish of your French pedicure—the one he insisted you get. His treat, his card, his instructions: “Have a field day, baby.” 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his other hand ventured lower, slipping between your thighs. His fingers danced over your pussy, teasing and spreading your slick folds apart. The wet, obscene sounds of your arousal filled the air, making his grin widen. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles, drawing a needy gasp from you. “Pretty pussy,” he muttered, almost to himself, like he was admiring art he’d sculpted with his own two hands. 

A flush spread across your chest and cheeks, and you instinctively hid your face with your arm. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, his tone playful yet firm. “C’mon now, don’t be shy. Lemme see your face, baby.” His fingers didn’t stop their sinful work, and when you peeked at him, he rewarded you by plunging two long digits inside, curling them just right as he began scissoring you open. “Fuck,” he groaned, feeling the way your walls gripped him. “So tight. Gonna need to stretch you real good for me, aren’t I?” 

Your head tipped back, and a mewl escaped your lips as his pace quickened. He smirked at the sound, his blue eyes gleaming with pride and lust. “Atta girl,” he purred. “Sing for me.” And you did. You cried out, your voice breaking as he coaxed you into release after release, your body trembling under his skilled hands. Every shudder, every whimper made his cock throb with anticipation. 

When you finally caught your breath, you felt the wet, heavy slap of his cock against your sensitive folds, the thick, mushroom-shaped tip dragging across your entrance and bumping against your swollen clit. You whimpered, your thighs instinctively clenching, but he was quick to pry them apart again. “Where you goin’, huh?” he teased, a boyish laugh spilling from his lips as he dragged you closer, his grip on your thigh firm and unyielding. 

“Satoru, it’s too much,” you whined, squirming beneath him, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your previous highs. 

He chuckled, his voice a mix of amusement and hunger. “You’ll take it,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a wet, heated kiss. His hands slid to the backs of your thighs, his grip tightening as he folded your legs, pressing your knees to your chest. He manhandled you effortlessly into a mean, filthy mating press, and the sheer strength of him—his dominance—drew a shameless, needy grunt from you. 

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, his words punctuated with breathless moans and sloppy affection. “Love you so much—mwah—fuck, you’re perfect. If it’s too much, just say the word.” 

“Red,” you nodded, your voice trembling, reassuring him of your boundaries. 

“Good,” he growled, positioning himself at your entrance. The first thrust was slow, deliberate, his cock stretching you in a way that made you cry out. “Fucking perfect,” he groaned, pulling out just enough before slamming back in, even deeper this time. The friction was overwhelming, your slick heat gripping him like a vice. “Girl, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, his hips finding a relentless rhythm, every snap of his pelvis driving you closer to the edge. 

You were lost in him, in the filthy, desperate way he claimed you, his words and actions consuming every thought until all that remained was him. 

It seemed like forever, but he brought you back to life with a splash of water on your face, and you jerked awake, groggy, confused. “Eh?” 

He sighed, a laugh escaping his lips before kissing your forehead. “You tapped out on me,” he murmured, biting his lip, eyes twinkling with both amusement and concern. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

His gaze softened, almost guilty, like a puppy caught in the act. 

“Hurt? No,” you said, your voice still a little shaky, “but you definitely blew me away.” You gave him a small, teasing smile. 

He chuckled sweetly, sliding your legs open, only for you to snap them shut, gasping, “Again?” 

“No, baby,” he grinned, shaking his head, “I’m cleaning you up.” He lifted the small white towel in his hand, waving it like a white flag. 

Relieved, you let out a sigh. “God knows my stamina isn’t as high as yours. You’re a walking... sex addict.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. 

He laughed, undeterred, as he began his work. “If it’s any consolation, I love my work.” He gave you a wink. 

You nodded, genuinely grateful. “Thank you.” 

“For what? This is my job, sweetheart,” he replied, looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. 

You raised an eyebrow, your hand fisting the sheets, playing with the soft fabric as you tilted your head. “Is everything concerning me your job?” 

He gave you a confused look, mimicking your raised brow as he wiped you gently. Your eyes flickered to the flex of his biceps, the veins—his dedication to being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer ever. And you were still in second year. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? You’re my lady.” 

“Usually, married men think that way,” you teased. 

“In my head, I’m already married to you.” He spoke softly, eyes not meeting yours as he carefully slid the fresh panties on you. “I daydream of us, somewhere far away, with a rock on your finger.” 

Your heart stuttered, your breath catching. What did you do to deserve him? A man so devoted, who loved you more than anyone else ever had. 

“Was that too much?” He blushed, the hint of pink on his cheeks as his six eyes flickered with uncertainty. 

“No way,” you said, your voice tender. You reached up to cradle his face, feeling the weight of his breath, the softness of his lips as they quivered beneath your touch. “You’re not the only one who yearns, Satoru. I daydream too.” 

His smile bloomed, and he let out a relieved breath. “That’s... yes, I like that.” 

“I like you,” you muttered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Like only?” He teased with a smirk, but his eyes held a deeper meaning. 

“My god, you're impossible...” You gave a dramatic sigh before playfully nudging him. 

He laughed boyishly and, before you knew it, flipped you both over. His long legs tangled with yours as he settled you atop his chest, pulling the sheets over the two of you. You let him hold you close, feeling his warmth seep into your skin. 

“I’m joking, shh,” he whispered. “I love you too.” 

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sternum. “I’m relieved you’re okay now... you seem like your old self again.” 

He sighed deeply, his fingers gently twirling a lock of your hair. “It still bothers me... I feel like I could’ve done something.” 

You placed a hand over his chest, right above his heart, where you could feel the steady rhythm. “You can’t change everything, Satoru.” 

“I’m the—” 

“Tsk tsk tsk. No, you’re not the only one who tried,” you interrupted, looking up at him. “There was me, Shoko, Yaga... we all tried talking to him, but Suguru made up his mind long before he let himself go like that.” 

Satoru’s brows furrowed. “You talked to Suguru?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded; voice soft. “I didn’t think you’d wanna know... It might’ve hurt you.” 

“No, no,” Satoru interrupted, his grip tightening around your waist, his face etched with concern. “That’s not what this is about. I just don’t trust him with you. He could’ve hurt you to get back at me.” 

“Why would he do that?” you frowned, confused. “It’s Suguru. He wouldn’t. We were friends too.” 

Satoru bit his lip, his gaze distant. “I said some... provoking things to him. I was pissed and hurt. But that’s no excuse. I wasn’t thinking straight.” 

Silence hung in the air for a moment, the weight of unspoken words settling between you both. 

“Oh,” you whispered, your heart aching. 

“Yeah, oh,” he muttered, breathing out a long sigh, his face softening with regret. 

The silence between you both lingered, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. You could feel Satoru’s heart beating steadily under your cheek, but there was a subtle tension in the air that still hadn’t quite dissipated. 

He sighed, shifting slightly as if to pull you even closer, his breath warm against your hair. “I don’t want to feel like I’ve failed him... but at the same time, I can’t change what happened. I can’t change what I said.” 

You shifted, pulling yourself up enough to meet his eyes. His gaze was raw, vulnerable, and you could see the inner conflict playing out in the flicker of his six eyes. You reached up, gently brushing a lock of hair from his face, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“Satoru,” you whispered, your voice steady, “you didn’t fail him. You’re not the reason he made those choices. You’re... you’re only human, Satoru.” 

He scoffed lightly, the humor in his voice strained. “I know I’m human, but it doesn’t make me feel any less responsible.” 

“Then don’t,” you said, the conviction in your voice unwavering. “You’re allowed to feel what you feel, but don’t carry that burden alone. You have me. You always will.” 

Satoru’s eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the boyish grin that usually danced on his lips returned. But this time, it was different—more tender, more real. “Yeah? I’ll always have you?” 

“Always,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you reached for him again, threading your fingers through his. 

His hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. The weight of everything between you seemed to shift, and as you lay there, tangled in the sheets and in each other, you felt a fleeting sense of peace settle over both of you. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Same here,” you whispered back. “But I’m not going anywhere.” 

He let out a deep breath, the tension easing as he pulled you closer once more. “I don’t deserve you.” 

You smiled softly, pressing your lips to his chest again. “Stop saying that. You’re exactly what I need.” 

His hand trailed from your back down to your side, his touch light and tender as it ghosted over your skin. He paused at the curve of your pelvis, his fingers tracing a small, delicate beauty mark shaped like a heart. The sensation was soft, deliberate, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, you saw them soften even further, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. 

“You know, I’ve always loved this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like a little piece of you that’s just... perfect.” 

Your breath caught in your throat at the sincerity in his words, his fingertips continuing to trace the small mark, as if committing it to memory. 

“You always find a way to make me feel special,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. 

“Because you are special,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, his lips lingering in your hair. “I love you, you know that?” 

You smiled, the tenderness in his touch making your chest tighten with affection. “I love you too, Satoru. Always.” 

His hand stayed there, resting gently over the heart-shaped mark, as he held you close, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply lay there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, knowing that in this shared quiet, everything was okay. 

“I’m never letting you go,” he whispered into your hair. 

And you smiled, knowing without a doubt that, for better or worse, you were both exactly where you needed to be. 

Until you weren’t.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You were scared, hiding behind a rock while a lifeless body of one of your comrades lay next to you—his arm severed brutally, torn from his body and laid a few inches away from him. He was just a kid, sixteen. The higher-ups had drafted him to join the J.S.T.F. because of his minimal cursed energy—and because he was foreign. Thailand, wasn’t it? You could hardly remember. You were too terrified to think, too overwhelmed by the sight of the mangled body and the violent chaos unfolding around you. 

The way his youthful face was so ripped apart— looking at you, taunting you— reminding you that instead of him, it could’ve been you.

In your head, a small voice says maybe it should’ve. You’re sick of these nightmarish nights when you could be studying in the labs with Shoko— how is she doing these days anyway?

You couldn’t stop the sickening wave of guilt that crashed over you. Why the hell were you even here? A special grade, trained for greater responsibilities. This wasn’t your job. You weren’t supposed to be risking your life like this. They hated you. They had always hated you. Was it because of your cursed technique? Or was it because you loved someone who could never belong to them—the prodigy of the Gojo clan? 

A cold, bitter laugh slipped from your lips. Of course they hated you for loving Satoru. They never understood. 

Speaking of —where the hell was Shepherd? 

You hadn’t heard a word over comms, no bark of orders, no dumb dad jokes to break the tension. Was he hurt? 

The air around you was thick with smoke and gunpowder, blood staining the ground beneath your hands. You could smell the metallic tang of it, could hear the wail of distant curses. The last transmission you heard over comms was a frantic voice from one of your friendlies, talking about exfiltrating—until your jet was shot down by a missile from a curse user group. You grabbed a radio, jumped out of the plane, and prayed that your cursed energy would keep you alive when you hit the ground. 

Your hand instinctively moved to your side, tracing the heart-shaped beauty mark on your pelvis, trying to ground yourself. You focused on the slow, rhythmic circles of your fingers, breathing deeply, trying not to look at the blood, the bodies, the cursed things moving in the distance. 

Suddenly, a shout cut through the chaos. 

“Doll!” 

Your body tensed as you spun around, the smoke swirling like a cruel veil, and then—his face. Shepherd. Thank god. 

“Shepherd!” you gasped, reaching for him as he approached, his eyes scanning the area. 

“We gotta go! Jet’s ready—missiles locked and loaded. Ground team’s north-east—let’s move!” His voice was sharp, commanding, and with no time to spare, you grasped his hand. For a moment, you glanced back at the body of the kid. Rest in peace, soldier. 

Shepherd shielded you with his body as you both ran, darting between rocks and trees, trying to avoid the curses and the inferno of fighting. You could feel the bile rise in your throat, your stomach twisting with every step, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t waste a second. The crunch of rubble under your feet— was it rubble or dismembered body parts? you’d like to assume the former.

“GO, GO, GO!” Shepherd’s voice rang out when the jet came into view, and you scrambled to get inside. As soon as you hit the cockpit, you heard the familiar crackle of comms coming to life. 

You were back in motion, you can’t let the old man down— you can’t let yourself down. Now, what’re you gonna do, reader?

“Doll, you copy?” Shepherd’s voice came through, his usual calm replaced by urgency. 

“Yes, captain,” you replied shakily, trying to steady your hands as you guided the plane into taxi. 

“Watcher! What’s your sitrep?” Shepherd barked, and the voice of Leslie, your fellow comrade, the one in charge of the drone your whole team likes to call the “predator”, crackled through. 

“I’ve got eyes on the curse users! South sector’s been infiltrated! They’re coming for the goods!” she shouted. 

You nodded, focusing as you banked the plane toward the south side of the hangar. "I’ve got eyes on target, estimate of seven people and two curses—large, grades unknown,” you reported, setting the plane to auto-pilot. It was time for you to work your magic. 

In the back of the plane, the gunner’s station was ready. You slid into position, your sniper at the ready. 

"Blow 'em!" came the call from the comms, a sense of excitement clear in their tone. 

“Gotcha!” You locked the crosshairs on the group below, eyes steady. Just as you prepared to fire, a flash of cursed energy caught your attention. Your gaze shifted. 

A tall, white-haired figure stood among them, exuding an overwhelming amount of cursed energy, far too much to ignore. You raised an eyebrow, confusion prickling at the back of your mind. 

Was it an old man? how the fuck—-

Suddenly, alarms blared in the cockpit. 

“INCOMING MISSILES, THREE O’CLOCK!” 

“Fuck!” You scrambled, pressing the button to release flares, narrowly evading the incoming missiles. But as soon as you regained control, your eyes locked on the target once more. It was time to pull the trigger. 

You hit the button, and the blast was deafening, the sound of fire and destruction echoing in the cockpit. But the satisfaction was short-lived. 

“HEEEELLLL YEAAAAHHH!! KILLER!” One of your comrades screamed, one close to you since you’ve been here in this shit hole— Malachai, an american-japanese, your age. he cheered, but the adrenaline felt hollow. 

You let the plane bank, the smoke of the explosion clearing. Shepherd’s voice came back through the comms, ordering you to inspect the damage. “Gunner, get a closer look—make sure they’re all dead.” 

“Rog.” You steadied the sniper, letting your cursed energy flow through it like second nature, making sure everything was amplified. Through the scope, you saw the wreckage—smoke billowing and flames licking at the sky. It was a mess. But as the smoke began to clear, you froze. 

There he was again—the man you saw earlier. Tall. White-haired. Standing. Unharmed. You squinted, trying to process what you were seeing. 

A chill ran down your spine. No. 

He turned slowly, and you could see the serene confidence in his movements. He glanced over his shoulder, as if inspecting the damage, as if nothing had happened. 

It couldn’t be. 

It was. 

Satoru Gojo. 

But you didn’t have the time to actually absorb anything— because you weren’t a sponge, actually what the hell? your plane was crashing. You missed a missile flying your way when you caught sight of your boyfriend, er— ex boyfriend? what was he now?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Satoru wouldn’t call himself a traditional listen-and-abide sorcerer. Sometimes, he liked to do things his way—whether it got Yaga-sensei into trouble with the school directors or landed a punch on his handsome face for discipline. 

“Seriously? Come back, you don’t need more issues on your plate.” Shoko’s voice echoed on the other end of the line. He could almost hear the frustration in her tone, picturing her rubbing her temples in exasperation. 

“Just cover me, Ieiri—there's more going on here. I found so many dead people and cursed spirit residuals.” Satoru spoke casually, yet his eyes never stopped scanning the area. He stepped over the grotesque bodies scattered around him, their faces unrecognizable from the brutal disfiguration. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. “What if they need my help?” 

“Didn’t they tell you, exorcise the special grade and come back home?!” Shoko shot back, her voice rising in frustration. It was clear she didn’t want to get pulled into his mess. 

He grinned, leaning against a nearby ruined building. “Yeah—since when do I ever listen?” His tone was light, but the gravity of the situation wasn’t lost on him. He heard her sigh, the frustration giving way to the familiar undercurrent of worry she couldn’t hide. “Please?” 

Satoru’s eyes darted around, feeling a shift in the air. Without missing a beat, he activated his Infinity, his senses heightened. A missile was coming straight for him. “Shoko, I’m gonna mute you for a sec—your ears might explode otherwise,” he said with a nonchalant grin, fully aware of the imminent danger. 

“What—” 

“Yikes,” he muttered under his breath as the missile exploded mere meters from where he stood. The shockwave rocked his body, sending dust and debris flying, the blast so powerful that the surrounding area seemed to disintegrate. His six eyes caught a grotesque, grisly sight as he looked around—people, cursed spirits, innocent or guilty, torn to pieces in the chaos. 

The sound of screaming metal and crumbling concrete drowned out his thoughts for a moment. 

When the smoke started to clear, Satoru casually unmuted, his voice as unfazed as ever. “My bad, missile hit.” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes still wide with awareness, but his grin was still there, almost apologetic. The force of the explosion hadn’t phased him, but the aftermath… it lingered. 

“MISSILE?! Are you at a task force mission?!” Shoko screeched, her concern now unmistakable. 

Satoru smirked, adjusting his sunglasses with a playful flick of his finger. “Heh. May have eavesdropped on the higher-ups after I talked to them last night. Got the password to their classified archives now~” He teased, a grin dancing on his lips. 

“God, you’re such an idiot—” 

CRASH! 

The sudden sound shattered the lighthearted atmosphere. The ground beneath him shook, and his eyes snapped to the sky just in time to see a plane plummeting toward the earth.  His heart skipped a beat. Someone was in that plane. Someone was falling out of the sky with no way to stop it. 

His expression hardened instantly, the playful air gone in an instant. His gaze locked on the descending wreckage as his heart rate quickened. “Fuck, I’ll call you back!” he snapped, his voice sharp, urgent. Without waiting for a reply, he hung up, already sprinting toward the area where the plane was heading. Every instinct screamed at him—this wasn’t just another mission, not when lives were on the line. 

He pushed himself harder, his cursed energy bursting forth in full force. His mind raced as he calculated his next move—I can’t let anyone die today. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“INCOMING! GUNNER, WATCH OUT!!!!!” A sharp, panicked shout rips through the comms as missiles hurtle toward you.

“what the fu—“

There’s no time to react, no time to deploy flares. The world explodes in a blinding flash as your plane is torn apart. The force of the blast knocks you out of your seat and throws you into the chaos of flames and twisted metal. 

Everything is a blur. You struggle to regain consciousness, the pain throbbing through your limbs, your body in agony as you try to stand. The wreckage surrounds you, and you hear the distant shouts of your comrades—screams, gunfire, curses—it all blends into a cacophony. 

“GUNNER! ARE YOU THERE? DO YOU COPY?” The frantic voice of a comrade crackles through the comms, but your vision is still blurry. You try to focus, but your left hand doesn’t respond. You try to move it, but the pain in your wrist is unbearable. “Shit,” you hiss, your breath shallow. 

“DOLL, ARE YOU THERE?!” Shepherd’s voice breaks through the static, more frantic now. You can hear the desperate edge to it. But all you can think about is how to survive—how to get to safety. 

You stagger, stumbling toward where your radio dropped earlier, the ground beneath you uneven, sharp debris digging into your knees. But just as you reach out to grab it, you hear footsteps. Heavy, purposeful. Someone's close. 

Your heart skips a beat. You hold your breath and freeze. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

The figure approaches, but you can't make them out through the smoke, the sounds of the fight surrounding you. Your instincts flare—fight or flight. 

“Stay back!” Your voice is low and fierce, a command wrapped in uncertainty, but the adrenaline has you gripping your gun again. The barrel is trained on the figure now, ready to fire. Fear tugs at your insides, but you won’t let it show. Not now. 

The footsteps slow, and you see a figure in a familiar navy-blue uniform, a face you can’t place—yet something feels wrong. Everything about them looks like a blur, like a threat. 

“I said stay back!” You growl, your voice shaking but sharp, the gun firm in your grip as you hold them in your sights. 

The figure stops a few feet away, and you hear them breathe deeply. 

“You sure you’re alright?” the voice says, and your heart stutters. 

The words are gentle, cautious, but the voice... it feels too familiar. 

You can’t breathe. This can’t be happening. No. Not here. Not now. You convince yourself it can’t be. It doesn’t make sense. 

Satoru...? 

You shake your head, blink rapidly as if to clear your vision. This wasn’t possible. The man standing before you—the man who sounded exactly like him—wasn't real. It couldn’t be. It was a curse, a shapeshifting curse that was manipulating your mind. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block it out. He wasn’t real. You’d seen him through the scope just before your plane was hit. It couldn’t be him. He was supposed to be somewhere else, not here. You’d heard his voice—faint, like a whisper—before the explosion. Your senses were compromised. It was a hallucination, nothing more. 

You breathe in sharply, your body shaking as the hallucination plays out in front of you. It’s not him. It can’t be him. You try to force the thought through your mind, trying to will it into your reality. It’s a shapeshifting curse—has to be. You can’t even trust your eyes right now. You’ve been through hell, and your senses have been shattered. 

His presence overwhelms you as he steps closer, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. The sounds of the battle fade, and all you can hear is your own rapid breathing. 

“I said stay back!” You shout again, but it comes out weak, unsure. The gun shakes in your hand, the grip slippery from the sweat of your palms. It’s just a curse, you repeat in your mind. This is just another trick. Another curse messing with your head. 

Satoru stops, his blue eyes locking onto yours, full of concern. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip, but you refuse to acknowledge it. You can’t. This isn’t real. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, his voice soft, like he's trying to soothe you, but there’s an edge of desperation in his tone. 

Your mind races. This isn’t real. This isn’t him. It’s a curse, it’s got to be. He’s not here. He’s not. You feel your chest tightening as panic surges. You know what’s happening: stress, injury, hallucination. It’s all just a trick, right? 

You can hear Shepherd’s voice in your ear, distant, calling your name, urging you to snap out of it. But it’s all drowned by the pounding in your chest, the frantic voice in your head screaming for you to not let your guard down. 

Stay alert. Stay focused. Don’t let him in. Don’t let your heart betray you. 

Satoru’s eyes soften even further as he steps forward, and you instinctively take another step back, the barrel of the gun still aimed at him. He doesn’t seem to register the threat in your movements, his expression unreadable. 

You’re sure now that if you don’t act fast, you’ll lose yourself to this madness. But what if you’re wrong? What if it is him? What if this is your chance to escape this nightmare? But... how could it be? 

No. 

It’s not him. It can’t be. 

You blink, trying to clear your thoughts, but the adrenaline is so thick you can hardly breathe. The faces of the dead from the wreckage flash in your mind’s eye—your team, the strangers, the endless sea of blood. Your hand grips the gun harder, nails digging into the handle as you take aim once more. 

He raises his hands slowly, like he’s trying to show you that he’s no threat. But that’s just what a curse would do, isn’t it? Pretend to be harmless, get close, and then—attack. 

“You’re not real,” you say, the words barely a whisper, but they feel like they hold everything in them. It’s not him. It’s not him. 

A soft chuckle escapes him, and it feels like a knife in your gut. No, no, no. 

He takes another step closer. “I’m as real as you are.” His voice is soft, almost playful, but there's an undercurrent of pain—like he’s trying to reach you, but the distance between you feels too vast. 

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, the hallucination threatens to dissolve. You can feel the heat of his presence, the familiarity of his voice, the way his words seem to tug at something deep inside of you. The sense of security that you so desperately want to believe in crashes into you like a tidal wave. 

Shit. No. This can’t be happening. 

You raise the gun again, your hand trembling as your vision blurs. It’s a curse. It’s got to be. You’re not going to fall for this. Not again. You can’t afford to. 

“I—” His voice falters. “It’s really you... isn’t it?” 

The way he says it makes your chest tighten, and for a split second, a crack forms in your resolve. No, don’t let him in. Don’t do this. You try to shake the thought away. It’s not real. It’s a curse playing with you. 

You stagger back, unable to tear your eyes from him. "I said stay back!" Your voice is cracking now, desperation bleeding through as the weight of the situation presses in. You need to get out of here. You need to survive.  “I’ll shoot!”

But the urge to drop your guard is almost unbearable. Your heart races against your will, but you can’t let it take over. It’s not real. It’s not real. 

“Stay back!” You shout again, but there’s a tremor in your voice now, more fear than you want to admit. You pull the trigger. You have to. You don’t want to, but you do. 

The shot rings out, but before you can process it, something strange happens. The bullet seems to freeze mid-air, suspended in a force you can’t see, like a barrier of invisible power. It’s not possible. But when the bullet falls to the ground, it’s almost as if the universe itself is mocking you. 

You stare at the empty space where the bullet once was, your mind reeling. That... that wasn’t a shapeshifting curse. That wasn’t a hallucination. That was—him. 

“you’d really shoot me? that hurts, baby.” he murmurs— and you can’t tell if he’s fucking smiling or just actually offended. You can’t tell shit, except from some noises— his voice, and the frankly annoying blue glow of his eyes amidst the smoke. Too bright for your poorly vision, too stimulating for you— sitting like a tall child on the broken concrete and rubble.

The moment of clarity is enough to knock the wind out of you. Your body trembles, a war of disbelief and recognition clashing in your head. But it’s too late. He steps forward again, and this time, you can’t stop him. 

You hear a voice cut through the chaos—your comrade, Alec— Originally Mexican, deployed and recruited into jujutsu task force from North Africa. “RUN! RUN, NOW!” 

Missiles scream overhead, and curses rush toward you, but Satoru’s hand reaches for you, and before you can comprehend it, he’s lifting you in his arms, dashing toward your comrade. You hold onto him reflexively, your arms clinging to his neck as if your very survival depends on it. 

As the sounds of destruction close in around you, you can feel Satoru’s heartbeat against your own. His breath is warm against your ear as he pulls you tighter into his embrace. 

“Don’t let go,” he whispers, his voice full of urgency, but there’s something more behind it—something raw and desperate. 

You can feel the weight of his body against yours, the familiar presence that you once thought was lost to you forever. Your mind races. The confusion doesn’t stop, but right now, with him holding you, you can’t bring yourself to care about anything but surviving. 

But the world isn’t done with you yet. 

The ground shakes as missiles hit, and the screech of enemy fire fills the air, but Satoru doesn’t falter. He holds onto you, and in that moment, you’re not sure if it’s a miracle, a curse, or fate. All you know is that you’re still alive—still breathing. 

The tension in the air thickens as the plane's engines roar, the world outside a blur of destruction and chaos. Satoru’s grip on you never wavers, his hold strong yet gentle, as if he’s terrified that you might slip through his fingers. The steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear is a constant reminder that, for the first time in what feels like forever, you're not alone. Even though the circumstances are far from ideal, in this moment, there’s an odd sense of comfort in the way he holds you—secure and unyielding. 

"RUN, RUN, RUN!" Shepherd’s voice echoes through the comms, and the words seem to pulse through you like a lifeline. Your comrade sprints ahead, leading the charge, and you can barely catch your breath, your body still reeling from the near-miss of death. Satoru’s feet pound against the dirt as he follows, effortlessly keeping up, one arm holding you steady while the other supports your weight beneath your thigh. 

The roar of engines grows louder as you near the hatch of Shepherd's plane. Your eyes are wide, and your pulse is racing. Satoru, as calm as ever, doesn’t let go, and you’re reminded again that he’s here, still here. His presence is overwhelming and undeniable, but it doesn’t stop the chaos within you. Is this real? Is this really happening? 

In a blink, you’re inside the plane. The hatch slams shut with a loud clank, and the roar of the engines drowns out everything else. The three of you are on the floor of the plane, sprawled out like rag dolls, panting for air, desperate to regain some semblance of normality. 

Satoru’s arm stays wrapped around you, even as Shepherd quickly pulls you from his hold. You feel a pang of loss at the sudden distance between you two, but you can’t focus on that now. Shepherd is hovering over you, inspecting your hand with a frown. The broken knuckles—shattered from the impact of the crash—are starting to swell. 

“You did well,” Shepherd breathes, his voice rough with exhaustion. His calloused fingers brush over your hand, making you wince. “My god, look at your hand.” 

“OW,” you whine, pulling your hand away instinctively, but he doesn’t stop, his touch gentle but firm as he checks for further damage. "Ow," you repeat, a little softer this time, as he inspects the fracture. 

He smiles grimly. “I’ll fix ye’ right up, but ye’ did good—we all did. Most of ‘em are dead, but most importantly, those holy transcripts ‘n cursed objects are safe in the ground team's helo.” 

A breath of relief escapes you, the weight of your failure and the mission’s horrors lifting just a little. Your shoulders sag in exhaustion, and you slump against the side of the plane, trying to steady your breath. You hadn’t even realized how hard you were holding it in, but now the adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving you drained and battered. 

But before you can let your mind rest, you remember—Satoru. You blink, as if seeing him for the first time, and your heart skips a beat. 

The reality hits you all over again. 

Alec who had warned you earlier—the one who had been your voice of reason in the chaos—glares at Satoru with suspicion. “Who’re you?” 

Satoru’s expression falters slightly as he blinks, clearly caught off guard. “You… you don’t know who I am?” His voice is laced with surprise, and he looks to you for confirmation, but you can’t provide it. You can’t make sense of any of this. You can’t even think straight. You’re still reeling from the fact that he’s even here. 

Alec’s glare hardens, and Shepherd glances at both of you, his hand hovering over his gun, just in case. The tension in the small, cramped plane is thick, every second stretching as if time itself is holding its breath. 

“No?” Alec repeats, narrowing his eyes. “You an enemy? Part of them?” 

Satoru’s face falls into a serious expression, his posture stiffening. “No! No, I’m a student... at Jujutsu High,” he explains quickly, tugging at the navy-blue uniform jacket he wears as if it should be enough proof. “Fifth year, I had a mission around here—and heard all this chaos... so I came to help.” 

You watch him closely, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sink in. He was close by. What was even close by? was this even Japanese territory? you don’t even know at all— you just seem to black out during these ‘clean-up’ missions, you fail to remember your name sometimes. Shepherd knocks you with a smack to the head to help you.

You don’t know what to feel. You want to scream at him, ask him what the hell he’s doing here, but you’re too exhausted, too bewildered by everything that’s happened. All you know is that this situation is becoming even more surreal by the second. 

You look at him, your eyes softening, yet still full of shock and disbelief. “You found me,” you whisper to yourself, a barely audible sound lost in the cacophony of the plane’s hum. 

His gaze softens, and for the briefest moment, the world outside the plane fades away. He’s here. He found you. Is it really him? 

Shepherd, sensing the moment of tension between you two, pats the comrade on the shoulder, his voice firm. “Relax. Kid’s no harm.” 

Alec gapes, “B-but— gener— I mean, captai— Shepherd, how would you know?!— he just popped out of nowhere!” his hand tightening on his rifle— staring at Satoru. Having no idea he could get hollow purpled at any mom—

Shepherd exhales through his nose gruffly, rubbing his beard and narrowing his eyes at Satoru. “I can feel it.”

Deadpanned— thats what Alec was, “Feel it— yeah, wow, so explanatory.”

Shepherd grunts and points at the button— brooch, whatever it was on the Jujutsu student uniform. “we work for them— he’s a sorcerer. Now, how ‘bout ye get yer ass in the damn cockpit and contact watcher— gimme reports on ground team— if everyone exfiltrated, ye know the drill.”

“Yes, captain.” Alec sighs, prancing into the cockpit.

Satoru exhales sharply, the weight of the situation finally hitting him. A sigh of relief escapes his lips, his shoulders relaxing as the truth of his innocence sets in. He runs a hand through his white hair, glancing back at you once more, the words still hanging in the air between you two. 

The silence feels too heavy, too unspoken, as if something else—something unsaid—lingers in the space between your gazes. 

And then, in that silent exchange, the realization hits. 

Found you, baby. 

His eyes speak more than words ever could, heavy with unspoken emotions—fear, relief, longing, and most of all, the ache of not knowing. But now, it’s clear. The journey to find you is over, and for the first time in a long while, he lets himself believe that maybe—just maybe—there’s a chance for you both after all. 

next.

© All Rights Reserved mymoonisgrey

Taglist is open!

@lavnder311

[nadas-dirthalen]

I don't think I can ever forgive Solas personally for the way he used Varric's death as a manipulation tool against Rook. As someone who experienced the recent loss of a loved one in my life, realizing what he did to Rook and imagining someone taking away my autonomy to grieve and accept the loss makes me feel so disgust toward him. And to use the image of Varric, someone who was always protective and loyal to his friends? It angers me more, as it feel like such a disrespect act for Solas to do with Varric's image, especially as Solas was arguably once one of his friends. I still question if Solas ever understood what it meant to be alive as a mortal or if he was so caught up in continuing to see himself as some spirit of Wisdom, he denied how he had changed or that life is not as simple/much more vastly different than his once pure Spirit self believed. If he did, would he have treated Varric's death as a tool to use against Rook in the same callous way he did?

Absolutely love Solas' role as Veilguard's antagonist and how it provokes so many emotions and debates on his actions and how to deal with him. Hating his former colleagues is easy, they're batcrap insane and power hungry, but Solas? His actions hurt so much more than anything those two could ever do because we know him in Inquisition; we know, as flawed as he was, he was capable of good, and yet ends up taking actions similar to that of the people he once fought against. But yeah, even though I had the tools for the arguably 'good' ending, there's a reason I chose to fight him and force him into the Veil: He just lost a lot of my sympathy for what he did and I didn't think he deserved a gentle sending off, harsh as it may sound.

Hello anon!! First off, let me say this: you're totally valid to feel as you do about Solas, and even though I don't share your opinion of him, I definitely had a moment of, "Oh god, that was reprehensible."

I think the difference, here, is that my Rook was feeling the feelings you're describing. My Rook would have a hard time wanting to redeem Solas, and only did so for the sake of my Inquisitor.

But the longer I went on after playing Veilguard, the more I realized... that was intentional. That was the point BioWare was making in the third act of Veilguard, and they did it beautifully.

We're supposed to hate him. Let me explain.

We all know what Solas did in the end of Veilguard, and what we find out he's been doing from the very beginning with Varric. What I want to talk about is Solas' conversation with the Inquisitor in Trespasser.

PC: You said that the elven gods went too far. What did they do that made you move against them? Solas: They killed Mythal. (Chuckles.) A crime for which an eternity of torment is the only fitting punishment.

We find out in Veilguard that everything Solas has done, no matter how awful, no matter how violent, has been to bring back the world that Mythal knew before she was killed by the other Evanuris. The one where she was whole. Where Solas, in his mind, had not yet failed her.

Whether or not his actions are good for Thedas (and in most cases, they aren't), Solas does them anyway, consumed by his grief and his need to avenge Mythal. He doesn't think through the creation of the Veil. We see this in a note from Felassan to Solas that is found (I believe) in the Crossroads. He does it anyway, even though even the companions notice that the process hurts him. Badly.

We know, as players, that redeeming Solas leads to him vowing to help soothe the anger of the titans. He works toward his atonement. It is extremely important and powerful that there are many people out there who, knowing this, choose to fight Solas anyway.

Solas also knows, logically, that the world will burn if he takes down the Veil. That doesn't matter to him. What matters is his grief.

We know that, logically, Thedas is worse off if Solas is fought into Fade Jail rather than convinced to go of his own volition by redeeming him. To some players, that doesn't matter. What matters is their grief, like you're saying here.

"An eternity of torment is the only fitting punishment."

In this way, Rook becomes Solas. By choosing to fight him rather than swallowing down their own feelings and pain for the greater good, Rook perpetuates the cycle of violence—for better or worse. And here's the thing: you are justified in this. Your Rook is justified in this. That's why, I think, Solas is written the way he is in Veilguard. BioWare wanted to show that those people who hate Solas have ample reason to do so. They wanted to show what Solas is like with people he doesn't value—and Rook is one such person in act 1 of the story, when he chooses to do blood magic on them.

Redeeming him means Rook taking a chance on Solas' redemption despite the pain he's caused, even if he doesn't deserve it, for the chance at Solas becoming something better. This shows what I think is true of the cycle of violence: that sometimes, it is a deeply uncomfortable and counterintuitive process. But sometimes, that is the only way a cycle of violence is stopped, for better or worse. We acknowledge the pain caused by those who hurt us, but refuse to inflict the same pain upon others, no matter how much pain we feel. It is deeply uncomfortable and counter-intuitive, but sometimes walking away from a situation is all we can do. (and of course I do not believe this is the right course of action in all situations, but Solas is a fictional character, and I believe this angle on his story is reasonable and poignant because it is fiction. real life is infinitely more complex, but Solas' arc isn't meant to be an exact representation of real life: it's to mean something.)

This was the last way, I think, that BioWare drew a strong parallel between Solas and the player. During the DAI quest "In Hushed Whispers," they show us that our seeing the alternate timeline as "not real" mirrors how Solas feels about waking up in present-day Thedas after creating the Veil. Now, they show us that his singular desire for revenge is something that is possible for even us, the players, who knows these are all characters made of pixels, to feel.

I think this is why Epler has said he advocated for an ending where you can fight Solas. Not because he hates Solas (I assure you, he does not), but because it is of tremendous importance to Solas' thematic statement that the player can act on their anger, their pain, toward him—because that is what Solas has been doing to Thedas this entire time.

Thank you for sending me this. I hope you know that I think you're valid for wanting to fight Solas, even though that isn't the ending I choose. It's people like you who help make Solas such a fun, interesting character, and who help highlight just how cool he is to me. You can love him, you can hate him, but I have yet to find a person who's 100% neutral on him. And I love that for us.

[the-princess-of-loki]

Late

Summary: You were crying in a dark alley next to the club where your boyfriend was, regretting a lot of your life choices, when Loki finds you and shows you a new way to be loved.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), a bit of voyeurism.

Why in the world did I think this was a good idea? I thud my head against the brick wall, tears running down my cheeks, ruining the cheap makeup I was wearing. I never wore any makeup, ever. But my boyfriend always complained about it -about everything, really- so I thought I would surprise him. I was such an idiot.

I still remember how excited I was that evening when I got to my flat with my new clothes and makeup. After taking a bath with patchouli oil as I felt, I didn’t know why, I needed some earthy scent on me; I dressed up with my new, black, leather, deep v-neck bodysuit, my new black mini-skirt and high boots. Even though I had watched a lot of tutorials on the internet, I still was nervous when I put on my black eyeliner, mascara and deep red lipstick. I had to reapply them a few times, but I was feeling sexy and confident when I left my flat. I knew I didn’t have the body to pull off that outfit. I had a pear-shaped body, my breasts were big, my stomach rounded and not flat at all and my thighs were…well, fat. However, I felt like I could seduce my boyfriend that night; like he would fall at my feet and would want to make love to me all night long.

I was a fool, clearly.

I took a taxi to the club I knew he was drinking with his friends. When I entered the club, I spotted my boyfriend immediately. I made my way towards his table where he was drinking and laughing with his friends. My steps were confident and sexy. Everything was going according to plan. Until I reached their table. As soon as I did, my confidence flew away. He took a side glimpse of me and started to laugh, mocking my thick thighs and my big breasts, supported by one of his girl-friends. I only stayed for some minutes before I left the club, humiliated and defeated.

That’s how I ended up here, in the dark alley next to the club, crying out of humiliation and self-loathing. I didn’t know what I was thinking or expecting, pulling this show off just for his entertainment. But if he didn’t like my attire, couldn’t he just pull me away and tell me, like he always did? God, I was such a loser. A pathetic, stupid loser.

I was surprised when I saw, through my tears, a dark green handkerchief with the word “Loki” embroidered in gold. I looked up to see the owner of such a fine piece of clothing and my breath got stuck in my throat. Long, wavy, black hair, deep green eyes, pale complexion, thin lips, square jaw: he was perfection incarnate. With a trembling hand, I grabbed the handkerchief he was offering me and wiped away my tears, although some of them kept falling down my rounded cheeks.

“My sweet flower, you shouldn’t cry for someone who doesn’t value you,” he said, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “You are worth ten times more than the idiot you just left inside. And, may I add, you are ten thousand times more beautiful,” a mischievous glint appeared in his green eyes, even when his smile was still kind.

“Do I- Do I know you?” I asked in between my sobs and my awe. He rested one of his large hands on the brick wall behind me, getting his lean but strong body so tantalizingly close to mine. I felt my cheeks getting red.

“In your darkest fantasies and dreams, sweet angel,” he smiled slyly. “I am Loki, God of Mischief and Stories. And I happen to know how bad it feels when someone makes you feel less than just because of who you are,” even though his smile remained a bit mischievous, his eyes showed a deep understanding and pain; one that I needed to remedy, no matter how desperately. “Those people inside the club? They don’t deserve you, my sweet flower,” he whispered the last part in my ear, sending shivers down my spine with his sultry voice. Then, he slowly moved his head back, letting his lips brush my skin until he was once again looking into my eyes. “Let me show you, angel. Let me show you how you should be loved.” It felt as if he was pleading for me to say yes, and how could I refuse? His allure was drawing me in like a moth to a flame, completely mesmerized.

My word got stuck in my throat, so I just nodded. Loki smiled -a true, genuine, happy smile- before he captured my lips in a hot, searing kiss. This was the kiss I had been dreaming about for decades. It spoke of desire, of love, of understanding. It was different from every other kiss I had ever received in my life. His arm sneaked around my waist -did I have a waist? I thought I had lost it long ago! His free hand rested on my nape, caressing my jaw with his thumb, as his lips moved insistently on mine. His teeth nibbled my lower lip and then his tongue eased the bite. That skilful tongue made its way inside my mouth and I was more than happy to let it. His tongue caressed and played with mine, causing a small -and embarrassing- moan to escape my mouth. Loki smiled and broke our kiss to look me in the eyes.

“You should always be kissed like that, my sweet flower. You should feel adored and worshipped with every caress and kiss. And I will make sure of it from now on, sweet angel of mine,” he whispered against my lips, making sure I felt and heard every word. A pleasant shiver ran down my spine as I looked at him wide-eyed. He leaned back a little to look at me directly in the eyes; his gaze was so intense that it took my breath away. “Let me show you how you should be loved. I only asked in return that you pledge your eternal fidelity to me,” he moved his lips to my ear. “I will show you heights of pleasure and ecstasy that you’ve never dreamed of. Just say yes, and I will take care of you for the rest of eternity.”

“Yes,” I managed to muster.

My heart was racing, my breath was uneven and I was completely mesmerized by his green eyes. Loki smiled and crashed his lips against mine once again. This time his kiss was feral. If my heart was racing before, it was out of control now. I lost every sense and I could only feel Loki. Loki’s tongue in my mouth; Loki’s arm on my waist; Loki’s hand going down my exposed collarbone; Loki’s hardness against my belly. If my feelings weren’t so physical, I would’ve thought I was dreaming. But he made sure that I felt everything and that I knew everything was real, that it was happening right there, on that dark alley next to the club I had felt so humiliated minutes ago. Loki’s kiss and touch were reverent and worshipping, just like he promised.

Carefully, his hand moved down the leather strap of my bodysuit, giving me plenty of time to stop him if I wanted to. Of course, I didn’t. He grabbed one of my breasts with his big hand, squeezing and kneading it carefully, knowing perfectly well how much pressure to apply to cause me that small amount of pain and big amount of pleasure. I had to break our kiss to gasp sharply and I saw him smirk in the darkness of the alley. His lips trailed down my jaw, the side of my neck, my collarbone and down the strap of my bodysuit, moving it to the side so he could kiss and lick my skin. He captured my nipple with his lips, sucking it gently, making me moan. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, thudding it against the brick wall. I bit down my lower lip, reminding myself that we were in a semi-public area. But when his teeth grazed my nipple, I lost it. The hand that was on my waist moved to my thigh, moving his fingers carefully on the inside of my flesh, moving my skirt up slowly. When he reached my core, he slowly moved two of his long fingers up and down my folds, feeling my wetness through the leather of my bodysuit. Loki carefully put back the strap of my bodysuit in place, covering my breast again before he kneeled in front of me. I let out a soft gasp at the sight. He manoeuvred one of my legs so it was resting on top of his shoulder and then moved the lower part of my bodysuit, revealing my wet core to his hungry gaze. He let out an appreciative groan before diving in as a starved man. He licked my folds and my inner lips before capturing my clit between his thin lips and sucking it. I bit down my lower lip to stop my moan from flying away into the city and one of my hands grabbed his silky, black strands; the other tried in vain to find something in the brick wall to hold on to. He started a deadly combination between his lips and his tongue, creating a pleasurable, sweet torture for my hardening clit. As if that wasn’t enough to drive me completely insane with desire, he added one and then two of his long fingers inside me, curling them to rub that wonderful spot that got me seeing stars. I couldn’t help but move my hips, grinding them against his mouth and fingers. I wasn’t going to last much, that was clear. Loki kept sweet-torturing my clit and pumping his fingers inside and outside of me until I came hard with a cry of his name. He rode me through my orgasm, prolonging it with his clear mastery of the subject, at the same time he licked and swallowed all of my juices. When I stopped shuddering with the intensity of my orgasm, he carefully rearranged my clothes before he rose to his feet again. His towering figure trapped me against the wall as he captured my lips with his in an all-consuming, passionate kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue and mouth and there was something utterly erotic about it. My hands clinged to his shoulder blades for dear life as we made out. However, a voice that I sadly knew pretty well interrupted us.

“Wow, I knew you were desperate, but a slut too? Damn,” my now exboyfriend laugh and his friends’ echoed in the dark alley. I looked down, my cheeks still flushed from the orgasm I felt minutes earlier. Out of nowhere, a black car appeared on the street, behind my ex’s back. Loki grabbed my hand and carefully lifted me from the wall, his free arm holding me to his side by my waist. He looked at me sweetly, but his face hardened as he stared at the douche blocking our path to the car.

“Insult her once more and I’ll make sure you can’t say another word for the rest of your futile existence. I dare you,” Loki warned in a cold tone, his eyes narrowed.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, fat-eater?” I felt the electricity in the air as soon as the words left the idiot’s mouth. Loki looked at me before his lips found my ear.

“Get in the car and wait for me there, my sweet. I’ll be there in a minute, I promise,” He gave me a sweet kiss on the lips before he pushed me softly towards the car. I took one last look at his imponent figure before nodding and making my way to the black car’s passenger seat.

The truth is that I didn’t dare to look as I heard some fighting and screams, but I knew for sure that Loki was going to stay true to his word. I didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter much either. I gasped when some minutes later, the driver’s door opened and Loki got in the car next to me. I examined him quickly, looking for traces of injuries, but he was as impolute as ever. He smiled sweetly at me and grabbed one of my hands, kissing my knuckles reverently. A shiver ran down my spine at the contact of his lips with my skin.

“I apologise for being late and letting those morons hurt you, my sweet flower,” he whispered, his green eyes locked on mine. “But I swear on everything I hold dear that from now on, you shall only feel loved, worshipped and cherished,” he vowed.

And, for some crazy reason, I believed him.

[technically-a-kiwi]

Here's the rest babyyyyy

Part 1 | Part 3

Some quotes because I couldn't find the energy to draw this:

C Pep: Can you help me ?

C Noise, smoking and grining : How about you help yourself to some gym courses Nahahaha! C Pep pulls out a candy out of his pocket : I'll-a give you this if you do C Noise throws his cigar up in the air: Okay nevermind I'm in

*C Pep and C Noise are looking down menacingly at a planet* C Pep : ... sodas ? C Noise : *shakes head in disagreement* hum-hum, mustard and ketchup. *Suddenly, the oceans of the planet turn into mustard oceans and the lakes and sources into ketchup.* *Both entities laugh and giggles* Eldritch being : Bow to me worthless being, your power is nothing but a speck compared to mine... C Pep : What if I hit you with-a this sandal reaaaally hard ? Eldritch being : ... HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THA- *Gets squashed like a mosquito* C Pep as he looks at Cancer: See piccolitto ? When someone bad-mouths you, you must call an adult so they can slap them across the face for-a you .

Now that the main two have been properly developed, here's a little info on cosmic Pepperman.

here's some older drawings, I thought I'd share it now or they'll never see the light of the day...

In this version, he's no longer a cosmic entity but just an eldritch entity, not quite as powerful but still enough to absolutely desimate entire worlds

What brought such a being into existence you may ask ?

Well, all of the magic and pride from every Pepperman in the multiverse formed a entity at the image of their paintings. Don't think of him as Pepperman tho, he's not, he's but a mear incarnation of pride and ego, a very one dimensional on in fact, he litteraly doesn't know his name is Phil, any complicated deep feelings simply don't exist for him.

He just loves to brag about his beauty, his art (especially his art) and power, very irritating guy...

mini comic time:

He HATES C Peppino, not because he undermined him the first time he met him, it's because he can't accepte the fact that the power of creation is owned by a stressed out messy old man, and not the MIGHTY Pepperman.

Now, the Ticket Stand

First, let's clarify this: the Ticket stand is the booth with the entity inside, the entity inside is just called "Ticket stand guy"

The Ticket Stand guy is an entity of the void, it came to life after absorbing a small flame from C Pep's primordial fire. It just passes time by selling it's services as a reality warper for the fair price of $10.

I've already quite developed it's story, so I'll just give you some doodles

C Noise thinks it's funny, and pointless. Why would the void need personification ? And why choose a F. Pep ?

C Pep thinks he's more of a hasard than anything, not very fond that a void entity is casually going around the multiverse. But it seems calm enough, so he let's it live. Pretty much every eldritch entities in the cosmic realm can destroy the multiverse if they wanted so... yeah...he's used to it

and now, Noisette !

Noisette is a little star traveler ! She wonders throughout realms atop her umbrella.

She's quite the bubbly chatter box, and loves to hear adventures from other people.

Here she isn't fond of C Noise at all, she thinks he's an obnoxious weirdo

She likes C Pep tho, he's a funny man

She's not very developed I'm sorry, but I love her and her design and couldn't bring myself to ignore her.

And uuuh idk now... I still have some stuff...

hum... oh! Not so fun fact, C Pep and C Noise know about the au's previous versions, everytime I change my mind the world resets but not their memory, their power may change from time to time but other than that that's all. C Pep's gotta remake a new patch of universes everytime... oh god, glad it's the final version...

Now, random shit idk :

just putting this here so I remember I have to finish this drawing.

This was the first ever Cosmic Noise drawing, back at january when he was just called "Nebulla Noise"

hehe, bluepino

Oh, remember Nebulosa Peppino ? Here's Nebulosa Noise, well technically here's the preparatory photo

Cool isn't it ? Idk if I'll ever finish him, I don't think I will now...

And here's C Pep using one of his beta color palettes, back when I wanted him to harbor dark blues to blend with the cosmos, with white glowing eyes stairing at you from the abyss, of course the original didn't look nearly as good as this, I had to tweak it up a little

This is a scraped mini comic I made, I didn't post it due to it's poor quality, but what the hell I'll post it now

And this is a whole lot more bigger scrapped comic starring C Noise and the soon to be C Noisette of this version. I never bothered to finish it because back when I made it, I barely had an idea of what the AU is about and it just didn't match with my idea of the Cosmic AU eventually. You can try to read it, but I warn you it's full of weird shit.

This is also a scrapped comic. In this story, C Pep creates out of a burst of creativity a cheese town with a cheese castle, cheese people with their cheese king and queen (none of them are sentient). Eventually the town is attacked by space rats (yes, space rats are a thing), C Pep beats them off effortlessly but got flamed up in the heat of the fight, in his absolute shock he sees that his flames didn't melt anything in the town, after repairing some buildings that broke during the fight, he leaves... but he didn't realise that during the fight his primordial fire gave sentience to all cheese people who witnessed his heroic acts. The cheese people immediately start to carve, write and sing about the story of The Mighty Cosmic chef, creator and hero of Cheesetopia. It was fun in my head but I eventually got a little bored and passed on some other projects.

Part 3

[samptlay]

♡ ⁠◍⁠• Skin That Cries Golden Tears • Chapter 3 - A Fractured Welcome ◍⁠

Series Masterlist 🌑 (All Available Chapters)

Chapter Summary: You welcome yourself into his home, then aid Kaeya while seeking information about your… circumstances. A lovely librarian drops by, prompting him to hide you, to which an odd “mirror” deceives you.

“Are you trying to butter me up before stabbing me in the back?”

Kaeya’s lying on his couch, with a cold cloth on his head, and following you with his eyes everywhere as you wandered around his place.  He looked content, as if a stranger wasn’t in his home, as if he didn’t miraculously gain an injury after attacking you, only for you to be perfectly fine. “This has to be against the law in some sense, dear.. traveler?”

Said stranger, you, are currently maneuvering a lot, looking through any document or book you could find. He surprisingly had a lot of filled shelves around here and there had to be something, anything that could tell you what was going on with your life and explain how you ended up here of all places. Teyvat is a nice place filled with nice people, but there is always more than what meets the eye. Like the Archon war, the destruction of Khaenri’ah & the Fatui's shenanigans.

 You let out a long sigh as you drag your feet to Kaeya’s side once again, crouching in front of his body, meeting his eye level. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to…” You stretch out your arms, motioning to his figure. “Hurt you? I think that was my fault. I’m just as clueless as you about how this happened, believe me.” He’s staring deep into her eyes, gazing into her soul like he’s trying to find out if she’s telling the truth or not. It’s Kaeya’s turn to sigh before he raises his arm and reaches out to touch the bandage you wrapped around his neck for him. 

He shouldn’t believe you, but he foolishly does.

“It can’t be helped. A lot of things in this world don’t make sense, especially our own actions.” Kaeya says cooly, slowly sitting up and sitting upright on his couch. Even though he attacked you first, you can’t help feeling guilty. He was only doing his job and your whole existence in this world is more than suspicious. So the best you can do for now is help him out….

And pray he doesn’t take you back to HQ.

You aren’t stupid, you could tell Jean wanted to keep you there, most likely lock you up. You love Bennet, Lisa, all the knights in general but you didn’t want to see them all through the bars of a jail cell. The Grand Acting Master didn’t trust you, and neither did Diluc. But Kaeya is also a knight and you can't expect him to abandon his duty and hide you away. These things can’t be helped, but you can’t stay here for long. That’s why you have to leave. You need to get on the outskirts, somewhere like the Dawn Winery. 

Somehow. 

“Kaeya, I know you have no reason to trust me but-" 

Knock knock knock.

Ah, maybe you should forget all of that, since it's most likely time for your demise.

Both of your heads snap towards the direction of the sound, and of course, there’s someone pounding at the door. You should just pray to God (but the question is which one?) it’s someone unaware of your presence.

“Hellllooooo~?” Lisa. That beautiful, enhancing librarian.

You don’t know why the fact that it’s only her helps oxygen to fill up your lungs again. Even if she’s super close to Jean, you know that she's logical in some sense to not send you away, if she heard about you from the others.

“Well  I deeply apologize princess, but please hold.” He smiles at you and pats down his top before casually walking to the door. How he changed his demeanor so quickly was impressive, but also quite scary if you truly think about it. The fact that you know that he's in pain too but just brushed it off makes you curious about what else he's endured in the past.

That is to say, he is from Khaenri’ah.

 Such a sad fate that had fallen upon his people. It’s honestly amusing how little he knows about you, yet he welcomes you into his home. Was it even a welcome? He didn’t have much of a choice but his guard is obviously down. Not the smartest choice to be so relaxed, and even seemingly lie (or what even he was about to do to protect you from Lisa) to someone he’s known for years. That is to say, it’s an opportunity you aren’t planning to let slip, you need to use it, being his trust, and him to your advantage, if you ever dream of getting out of this world.

Let alone surviving in it.

A few softer knocks are heard, and she speaks again. “Kaeya, you know your books are almost two weeks late at the moment, correct?” The way her voice floats into the air around you and continues ringing in your ears doesn’t surprise you as to why no one necessarily dislikes her. She’s a kind soul and oh so very smart. You hope she’s just not smart enough to somehow figure out that you were supposed to be here, in his house, or on the surface of Teyvat.

He takes a deep breath. “Give me a moment, at least let me actually get the books, our dear librarian.” Kaeya speaks loud enough for her to hear from the other side of the door and then proceeds to turn around to face you and starts walking quickly, almost jogging as you follow and you both go down a not-too-lengthy hallway with swords of all different variations. Big, sharp, little, small, including a miniature dagger that’s trapped in a clear casing propped up on a shelf. There’s also armor that shines so bright that it hurts your eyes. He collects them, it seems. He really is a knight at heart, and you can’t help the small smile that it brings to your face knowing that the characters' behaviors haven't changed from how they acted through the screen. It’s a good sense of security since you already know what to expect.

He leads you into what you can only assume is his room and makes you sit down on his bed that’s smaller than something you thought would suit his taste better and makes you sit down on it, then he grabs a stack of books from a desk that you can only assume are Lisa’s and heads back to the door, it's clear he's in a rush to shoo her away. “Stay put and don’t make a single sound, alright? I’ll be back before you know it and then we’re gonna find a way to deal with your… situation.” He offers up a smile that isn't the usual charming one that you see all the time through the game, this one looks genuine, almost like he can't wait to get back to you. The door closes shut behind him gently and you're left alone for the second time yet again. This time in what you can only hope is a safe space. 

There's clearly a lot more going on here than either of you know and you're more than determined to figure out what the cause of all of this is. But one thing you can be certain of is Kaeya’s unusual closeness, how much he trusts you and is seemingly drawn to you. And Diluc… 

He seemed uncomfortable about your presence, and it isn’t like you could blame him for it, you quite literally came out of nowhere but at least he had the decency to save you. You needed a way to make him trust you. But that would require interacting with him which could go wrong quickly if he’s decided that he’s going to make sure you get locked up as soon as he sees you. Although, he’s a well-respected and logical man. He should know that you’re harmless as well (if we overlook whatever happened when Kaeya cut your neck) since you passed out within seconds of your life being endangered. If you could just have a conversation where he isn’t carrying that sword of his or he’s at least in a comfortable atmosphere, you two could come to an agreement and he could get you settled somewhere away from here, where Jean isn’t trying to track you down and interrogate you, for whatever reason… Then you could go back to being a nobody. Or were you really a nobody? So far everyone who’s seen you has acted strangely. In your opinion, you look normal… ish. Maybe it’s about time you look in a mirror and try to see things from their point of view, or find something that’s out of the ordinary. 

Going directly against his directions, you stand up and look around Kaeya’s vacant room. It's tidy, the bed was laid smoothly before your presence. The desk was also clean with ink and paper having their own corner while books and a candlelight had another. That's when you turn around to face the bed again to find what you're looking for. A mirror. But not exactly what you were picturing. It was where you had expected to find it, on the wall next to the dresser on the right side of the bed, but it wasn’t there when Kaeya had brought you here. And instead of your standard tall slim mirror leaning against the wall, this one looked more like a whirlpool, almost a portal that you could see yourself in. Not only that but there’s a pull, a connection to you and the said “mirror.” As if it knew you were wishing to look at your reflection and it was there just for that. You draw closer even so slowly and begin the observation. You start at your feet, and like a lot of different people in the world, you’re wearing heels. Nothing wrong about that, now to move on to your outfit. It wasn’t too bad or simple either. It was a mostly black outfit with gold outlines that made it look more extravagant yet still not too fancy and overbearing. 

And lastly, your face. 

Your head shape and hair are the same, however-

Oh.

“Ah.”

Your eyes. They were a soft yellow, almost what you would describe as golden. They were bright, yet even you couldn’t look away from the mirror and could only admire in awe. No one else has had features like this, not that you were aware of. Now it makes a bit more sense as to why everyone had either been curious like a certain eye-patch-wearing night or cautious as a certain spectacle pyro vision holding barista.

You… You’re clearly different. Anyone could tell, thus they treated you like so, no wonder you were treated graciously nor was welcome warmly. It just makes you itch to get out of here even more. Being different brings unwanted attraction, and when you’re trying to find your way back home, it won’t help your case at al-

What are you returning to? Your body’s drowning at the bottom of the ocean.

Oh, of course. You had died. It was a bit more peaceful when you had forgotten that fact, and you feel your heart throb as you remember all the air leaving your lungs and saltwater going to replace it instead. With all the pain, nothing you could do but squirm, try and swim up, but to no avail. The heartache. You missed your life, you missed your home.

Zoning out, you hadn’t realized you moved closer to the mirror, it was like a magnet, and of course, you drew closer. That, however, proved to be a grand mistake on your part, because the thought you had about it looking like a portal was indeed correct. It was like a vacuum, as soon as a small part of your hand went through, your whole body followed and your entire vision went completely white.

You wake up, and all you see is a blur. Your knees are against a wooden floor. Luckily, your other senses are intact and a lot more keen than you remember and you hear what you must assume is a broom drop on the floor from your left, a gasp from your right, and a glass shattering on the floor from behind a desk around 10 feet in front of you. “Ughh… My head…” You wince, slowly blinking and rubbing your eyes before you look up to see what your surroundings look like, to find out where in Teyvat you are. 

And sitting right there, at the desk a couple of feet away from you, is the same red-haired man who had saved your life only last night, holding… broken pieces of glass while bleeding, staring down at your mouth in a tightly pressed-together line, stunned.

Diluc.

It seems this is your second time entering someone’s home without being invited.

A/N:

It's been a while, and I'm sorry for the wait. I don't plan on leaving that long ever again, but alas, life happens. I'm glad to be back. I missed writing a whole lot. +.ﾟ(´▽`人)ﾟ+.ﾟ Like I've said with this story and my other works, I'd die before leaving them unfinished. I love you all~!

Taglist: Sorry if I tagged you twice!

@esthelily @cosmo112 @fantasyhopperhea @ilxina @aloflapse @mayberaspberrywrites @enjoyjellime @vianitry @blipblopblopblip @fuji-sen @leafanonsforest @cchiiwinkle @annexblogs @akemityan

@uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @umi-adxhira @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael @chickenalfredo4life @eccaza @jun-xiu @klemen-time @delulu-val @everi-eve @cluelesstoeverything @strangersomeone @lapinaenmicoche @alwayslegendarymoon @lumiiiiiiiiii @superninjaarbiter @themonsterunderyourbed69

Borders by @cafekitsune

[rhettmotel]

Sin Worse Than Whiskey

Summary: With a preacher father and the threat of Hell, it's no wonder that you repress your longing to feel comfortable in your body. When Rhett returns to Wabang as the youth pastor at your father's church, both of you have repressed sins that you can't keep down.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x AFAB!Reader BUT reader is a repressed transman and Rhett is a repressed bisexual

Rating: nsfw content, 18+, mdni!

Warnings: Talk of religion and homosexuality as a sin. Heavy religious themes, talk of body dysphoria and self hatred for both Rhett and reader. Use of slurs and talk of "fixing" yourself as in "praying away the gay"

Word Count: 635

Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. If you like my writing and would like to support me, I'd really appreciate if you would check out my Ko-Fi. I use these donations to help with the cost of groceries. If Ko-Fi is not your thing, I also have a list of things I use at Uni. That being said, Please don't feel any pressure to support; just a simple reblog also helps. ❤️ This was inspired by The Starling Girl, Preacher's Daughter by Ethel Cain, a little bit by Midnight Mass and with lots of gentle encouraging by @sebsxphia I love you ❤️

"Remember when you said if you were a boy, you'd want to look like Rhett?"

"Shut up!" You grunt, pushing your sister on her shoulder.

"Girls!" your mother shouts, already way ahead of you and at the car.

It was true, you had said that, but that was in the comfort of your bedroom, not for your sister to be blabbing about where anyone could hear.

There had always been lingering thoughts in the back of your head about what it might be like to live as a boy with short hair and a flat chest, but that was never going to happen.

Once, when you were young and stupid, around twelve, you asked your mother why you hadn't been born a boy and how you wished you had been. This had gotten your mother irrationally angry, ranting at you about how God made you exactly as He wanted you to be and to change anything would be blasphemous. After that, you never brought it up again.

You wanted to be good and holy; you wanted to get into heaven like the rest of your family. You tried to forget about those feelings and even tried to counteract them by dressing and acting as girly as you could. It was going pretty well, too, until Rhett Abbott came back to town again.

Your father, the preacher at your church, had hired him to look after the youth worship and although you were eighteen now and no longer part of the youth group, your father asked you to sit in and observe instead of just letting you have the job. You had argued with him about it for quite a while, but he just kept saying that you needed to observe someone else doing it before he trusted you to do it.

"Don't ever say that out loud again,” you hiss at your sister, low enough for no one else in the van to hear. Who Knows what your parents would do if they heard you or anyone else speak those words again.

The first time that you sit in on the youth group, Rhett can’t seem to stop looking at you. It was probably just because you were neither a youth nor a pastor and still sitting in on his group, but his eyes still made you shift in your seat.

“Why are you in the youth group?” Rhett asks as most of the children are filing out of the room. “You’re eighteen now, ain’t you?”

“I am,” you nod with a soft smile. “I’m just here to observe.”

Rhett looks at you for a moment, then his face softens. “Ah. Did I take your job?” He asks, swallowing a swear word that threatens to escape just after he realizes.

“No, No,” you hold up your hands, not wanting the older man to feel guilty about doing the job your father clearly thinks you are unfit for. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think my father would’ve given it to me anyway,” you admit, trying to push out a soft smile that doesn’t look too sad.

 “I’m sure that’s not true.” Rhett shifts awkwardly on the linoleum floor, and his shoes squeak to fill the deafening silence, “I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

You frown. “Youth group is only held on Sundays.”

“I know I just… I thought since your dad was the preacher and all, you’d be coming to daily mass. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,” Rhett apologizes.

The truth was, you’d never gone to daily mass before. You’d always been in school just like your younger siblings, but since you graduated from one of the strictest Catholic schools in all of Wyoming, now would be the time. “No, I… I’ll be here tomorrow,” you nod, walking before you can embarrass yourself further.

—— Thanks for reading. Chapter 2 will be coming at you next week ❤️

[dullgecko]

Riz had been waiting for Fabian to come back. The countdown was almost here, people were milling around trying to find a partner and, though disuaded from taking Riz out on a DATE she was still eyeing him in a way that made his skin prickle a little bit.

Five minutes later Fabian STILL wasn't back. Then another five and the lights were getting dimmed so as not to block out the fireworks that would soon be shooting off outside.

10

Shit, okay, she had sidled a LOT closer to him. Riz wasn't dumb, even with 'Baron' in the picture she hadn't been completely disuaded. She'd probably go for a cheek kiss or something but he'd still rather not.

9

The goblin glanced around, a little frantic as he tried to work out where Fabian was. The Mayor was okay, he could leave his observation spot for a second surely.

8

He was getting boxed in, the Mayors daughters eyes locked onto a spot a little bit to the left of his lips. Yup, okay, called it. Time to dodge out of this situation as gracefully as possible. Riz stood up so suddenly that the teifling actually took a step back in surprise, the goblin gracefully hopping down to the ground off the mantle with a 'sorry be right back need Fabian for something' as he skuttled off.

7

6

5

Riz's head snapped from side to side as he tried to spot Fabian among the crowd, zero-ing in on a purple blur behind frosted glass on the other side of the room.

4

3

2

He rounded the corner after crossing the room at speed, almost skidding to a stop when he realised Fabian was with someone... Fabian was MORE than with someone. Riz felt like a pit had opened under his feet and he'd fallen through it, clocking the pretty, blonde high elf who currently had her lips....

"Fabian?"

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Riz's brain was a little slow to catch up with his mouth, swearing at the half elf and only turning around to go back inside once Fabian promised to follow.

He made it three steps inside before Fabian finally caught up, Riz doing a brief scan of the room (and cursing that he was so short, gods he should have stayed on the mantle) and spotting the Mayor safe in the crowd still before rounding on Fabian properly.

"Seriously though what the FUCK. This is YOUR job dude. I was just here as an extra set of eyes and you wander of to... to play tonsil hockey with some-" He paused, taking a breath to calm himself down before he said something horribly about a person he didn't even know. "-with some girl?"

Fabian scoffed, sniffing and rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand as he squinted down at the diminutive detective. Riz very suddenly feeling like HE was the one who had done something wrong here.

"And so what if I did? It's a party, and we're blending in. We can't just... hang around the Mayors daughter all night it looks weird." Riz made an equally incredulous noise, opening his mouth to say something before he zero'ed in on a few details most people would have overlooked. Fabians nose was running, there were a couple tiny red granules visible on the underside of his nostril (something fairly easy to see given Riz's vantage point) and his pupils were blown wide even when the lighting in the room finally came back up. "Wait... are you HIGH? Fabian! We're on a JOB." Riz jerked his arm towards the Mayor, lowering his voice so as not to be overheard even though he wanted to shout in anger. "We're on YOUR job. I'm only here because you asked me to HELP and you're-"

He took another deep breath, scrubbing his hands over his face as he tried to calm down enough that he wasn't visibly furious. Hackles flattening out after a few seconds of just breathing.

"You know I don't really care about that stuff but not while working. Fuck. Okay. You go do... whatever. I'll finish out this job myself." He turned and stalked back towards the rest of the party, disappearing into the shadow of an armchair as he decided to do this thing full rogue rather than Fabians 'blend in and mingle' approach.

Fabian wanted to party? Fine, he could party. But even as the night ended without incident (thanks to a well placed shot to a server putting some poison in the Mayors glass in the kitchen by one Detective Gukgak) Riz didn't seek Fabian out again that evening. Details just getting texted to the half elfs crystal as Riz found his own way back to his shitty office in Elmville, justifiably PISSED OFF with his friend and not wanting to confront him right now... especially not with the way his heart had clenched in his chest upon seeing him on the balcony with the georgous high elf.

The Queen of Lies & Mirrors

Finally! I have a gift for you, @dullgecko, but it ended up being rather long to put in an ask. So here it is! Another prequel to Oh, Brave and Loyal Knight featuring everyone's favourite romance partner!

Fabian doesn’t even know how the topic of relationships had come up.

Smooth jazz drifted from the Bastion City penthouse as the warm lights that poured from it contrasted against the cool tones of the last day of December. Snow lazily fell from the dark, cloudy sky, and frost swirled and curled along the edges of the penthouse’s windows and balcony railings.

Past the frosted windows, the Mayor’s New Year’s Eve party was in full swing. Black, silver, and gold balloons were strung up in every corner—a perfect match for the penthouse’s sleek onyx floors and stark white Romanesque walls and ceilings. Every so often, the clacks and clicks of billiard balls hitting each other and falling into pockets would ring out over the soft chatting. Soon followed either a chorus of cheers or groans. There was hardly a hand that didn’t have a flute of champagne in it. And even then, a server with a tray full of fancy shot glasses was making their rounds.

Fabian was no exception; dressed in a burgundy Fantasy Armani suit, he idly sipped the bubbly pale golden liquid as he leaned against a fireplace beside his Detective. Riz, dressed in one of his nicer hand-me-down suits, sat perched on the fireplace’s marble mantle as they idly chatted with the Mayor’s daughter, Wendi, while keeping an eye on Mayor Eldermore herself.

Thanks to his ability to blend in with the upper echelons of society, the National Adventurer’s Guild had assigned him a quest to discreetly protect the Mayor from unknown forces that wanted to kill her. And since he hardly went on any adventures without him nowadays, Fabian had asked Riz to join him to follow any clues the forces menacing Eldermore might leave behind. Obviously, cutting him in on the job’s payout as per usual.

As it was rounding the final minutes of 1979 and the duo’s conversation with Wendi was reaching its natural conclusion, she took a moment to stare into her champagne glass before Fabian watched her muster up the courage for something.

The young Tiefling woman chuckled lightly as she looked back up at them (but mostly Riz), the jewelry dangling from her lilac horns clinking as she did. “I really do appreciate you guys protecting my mom,” She said, tucking a lock of dark, blue-black hair behind her ear before she leaned against the mantle to gaze fully at Riz. “I know that you work for NAG, Mr. Seacaster, so I don’t have to guess about how to contact you if I need your help. But I was wondering if I could get your number, Detective, just in case.”

Oh. Oh no.

Fabian put his glass to his lips but didn’t take a sip as his eyes darted over to Riz. How was he going to let their client’s daughter down gently? A tricky situation if you asked him. Not everyone takes being rejected all that well. The last thing they needed was a complaint about their night’s conduct or supposed lack thereof.

“Of course!” Riz said with such a big smile that it almost caught Fabian off guard. Before he could even question it further, Riz dug through his jacket pockets and pulled out one of the handmade business cards Fabian had done for him. Presenting it betwixt his two fingers for Wendi to take. “Here’s my card! Be warned, I usually only take mysteries and other private investigator stuff, though.”

Okay, so perhaps his Detective was smoother than Fabian originally thought.

“Right,” Wendi said, her voice struggling to stay infused with confidence as she plucked the card from his claws. Turning it over once and then back again, she gently bit her lip as Fabian watched her weigh her options. Take the kind rejection or bet that Riz was a little dense regarding matters of the heart. She nodded slightly as she looked back up at Riz with raised, well-kept brows and hopeful eyes. “I was thinking more like we could go get drinks sometime.”

Fabian, who’d liked to think that he’d gotten quite well versed in reading Riz Gukgak over the almost year he’d known him, could tell how deeply uneasy he was at the moment. The rigidness of his smile and posture increased tenfold, his pupils went razor-thin, and his tail had been dead weight for the last minute or so.

Alright, alright! Fabian could do the anti-wingman thing he’d done back in the Goblin Court when courtesans kept showing up at Riz’s door. Clearing his throat to get Wendi’s attention, he began with a tight smile, “Miss Eldermore, I’m afraid he’s—”

“Taken,” Riz had chimed in, interrupting Fabian with a more relaxed, apologetic smile. And in that moment, a wave of something washed over him, but he was too distracted to parse what it was because—What? Fabian and Wendi both furrowed their brows at Riz at the same time. However, she also made a point to send a questioning look at Fabian. To which Riz chuckled and waved her off, “Not by Fabian. He’s my best friend. I, uh, actually already have a partner.”

Huh, okay… That was certainly one way to get out of a flirtatious proposition.

Only…

Riz was lying, right?

He couldn’t be telling the truth.

Surely, he would’ve told Fabian that he’d met someone. That what he’d told him back in that bed chamber in Hornhallow—about not understanding the urge or want of a relationship—was now outdated. That he’d somehow, in the past six months, found some special fucking person that made him think otherwise. No, no, no, this must be just a really good lie. So good that it made Fabian’s heart hurt to hear it. It had to be.

While Fabian had a mini mental breakdown, across from him, Wendi frowned. Her arrow-tipped tail swished back and forth aggressively as she stood straight up, crossing her arms as she said, “Your best friend looks a bit surprised at that.”

“I suppose it’s been a while since we last caught up,” Riz winced. Patting Fabian on the shoulder with that same apologetic smile. Fabian had to stop himself from flinching away from it, not that Riz seemed to notice. His hand lingered on Fabian’s shoulder—the contact burning Fabian alive—as he looked back at Wendi. “While I can’t believe I hadn’t mentioned, uhm, Baron to you, Fabes, I prefer to keep my personal life private.”

Private personal life? What in the world—

Wendi let out a hum of understanding. “I get that,” She said, nodding as her demeanour shifted and softened away from flirtatious back to friendliness. Because, apparently, she was believing this shit. “Is there a reason why Baron’s not with you tonight? Don’t you wanna ring in the New Year with a kiss? Supposed to be good luck.”

“I wish,” Riz said with a chuckle—Was it real? Was it fake?—before he sighed and looked up at Fabian again. His hand still on Fabian’s shoulder. He looked up at him with a fond yet rueful smile as he went on, “Baron wasn’t the happiest when I told them, but Fabian invited me, and I’m not quite sure how to say no to him yet.”

“Ooh, Baron’s got a jealous streak?” Wendi asked, her eyes alight with an obvious love for drama.

Riz grinned, “Mile wide.”

“Woof, you better watch out, Mr. Seacaster,” Wendi said with a laugh, shaking her head as she took a sip of her drink.

“I can handle myself just fine, I assure you,” Fabian grumbled as he went to take another sip of his champagne as well. Only to find that it had long been empty. Perfect. He needed a good reason to get away from his conversation. “In fact, I’m going to handle myself over to the bar and get another drink. I’ll be back.”

Fabian didn’t wait to hear whether or not Riz had a problem with being left alone with Wendi. Instead, he focused on making his way over to the penthouse’s pop-up bar as quickly as possible. Fabian’s mind raced as he weaved through the crowd of partygoers. Trying to make sense of the things he’d just heard.

Like, who the fuck was this Baron person who had apparently captured Riz’s heart? Why were they so special? What did they have that Fabian didn’t in Riz’s eyes? And what was ‘Not sure how to say no to him?’ supposed to mean? Riz said no to him all the time!

Right?

Well, he certainly wasn’t the one to tell him to fuck off when Fabian subtly leaned in, intending to kiss him after their Seawatch Kraken Priest quest last month. No, he did it through his magic, creating a wall of magic that abjured him against the likes of Fabian. Probably because Baron was the jealous type and Riz, clever as a whip, had mentioned that Fabian had an obvious crush on him… and Riz didn’t know how to say no to him.

Fuck…

When he finally arrived at the bar, Fabian slumped against the temporary bartop, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t hold his own weight up anymore. He exchanged his empty glass for a full one and downed it before he gestured for another. The bartender grunted and said he’d get right on it but made no move to do so. Great, now, in his time of need, he was being cut off by a responsible barkeep. Today really wasn’t his day.

Head in his hands, as Fabian tried desperately not to cry while on a job, a silky, posh voice beside him asked, “Oof, what are you trying to forget?”

“Nothing important,” Fabian immediately replied, his words somewhat muffled by his hands. “Just junk I thought I threw out.” Peeking out between his fingers, his breath caught in his throat as he laid eyes on the person beside him. Long, glossy, blonde hair fell around the bare shoulders of a fair-skinned Elven woman with a cunning, classical face and keen, blue eyes. All wrapped in a chic, golden silk gown that hugged every one of her curves. Wow. Fabian quickly stood up a little straighter as he held out a hand to her and said, “Fabian Seacaster.”

“Aelwen Abernant,” She smirked, a devilish thing, as she shook his hand.

That last name sounded familiar… Maybe his mother mentioned it once or twice. Abernant… Abernant… Oh, that’s right! Still lightly holding onto her hand, Fabian asked, “Your father’s the Elven Diplomat, isn’t he?”

“And I believe yours was a pirate? Married a Lomenelda, yes?” Aelwen shot back, raising a questioning brow at him.

Fabian shrugged with a smirk of his own, “Guilty as charged.”

Making an intrigued hum, Aelwen looked Fabian up and down. Sizing him up. The weight of her discerning eyes made him want to squirm, but that would surely make him look bad. So, he did his best and squashed down every emotion he’d felt in the past half an hour except the ones of attraction and confidence. Hoping desperately that someone tonight would choose him.

He’d have to thank his lucky star for finally shining down on him as Aelwen ultimately nodded, leaned in, and whispered in his ear. “Well, son of a pirate, how about a little Dragon Spice to help with whatever… junk you’re trying to get rid of?”

“I’m not sure…” Fabian said, a flash of a grimace on his face. Dragon Spice was no joke, and he was on a job…

Aelwen scoffed, pushing one of his stray dreads behind his ear before she took his shoulder in hand. Giving it a shake, she said, “It’s New Year’s Eve. Have a little fun before the new decade is upon us! Who knows what the eighties will have in store for us.” She let her hand run down the length of his arm until she wrapped her hand around his and began to pull on it. “Here, follow me.”

With almost no resistance, Aelwen pulled Fabian back through the penthouse until she brought him to a secluded balcony overlooking a snow-covered city street. The chill in the air perked him right up as he watched Aelwen dig around her tiny handbag until she produced a vial of bright red powder.

In a series of swift and decisive moves, Aelwen cleared off the railing of snow, poured out and shaped a line of Dragon Spice before she pulled out a tiny paper straw to snort it with. “What do you say, Mr. Seacaster?” She asked as she held the straw out for him to take.

…Well, he was already here, wasn’t he?

“If you insist,” Fabian sighed as he plucked the straw from her well-manicured fingers. Twirling it in his fingers, he settled himself in front of the railing. Eyeing the thin line of red for a moment before attempting to snort it.

One, two, sniff!

Instantly, a tingly surge of euphoria sprang up in his head and quickly spread out to his every limb. All of the tension in his body left him in a blink. As did the aching in his heart because how could anything be bad when he felt this good? Even as he cringed at the pain in his nose and coughed and spluttered as the Dragon Spice made its way to his lungs. He still felt so fucking good! Umberlee below, he hadn’t done Dragon Spice, let alone any of the harder drugs Spyre had to offer in months. Why did he ever stop?

A tiny voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he’d felt too bad about doing it after Riz had gotten high out of his mind that one time on Leviathan. His crash after the high hadn’t been pretty. So, Fabian had naturally gravitated away from drugs after that, especially since he’d been spending most of his time with Riz anyway. Well, not all of his time. Obviously, there was enough time for Riz to find and fall for fucking Baron—

Thankfully, before he could sink back into a funk, Aelwen erupted in laughter. Her fervent giggles rang out into the cold night. “Holy shit, have you snorted literally anything ever?” She asked, slinging an arm around his shoulders as she took the straw from his hand for herself.

“Yes! Just haven’t in a while,” Fabian said, indignant while his cheeks were on fire. He stumbled out of Aelwen’s way as she went to set up a line for herself. Hoping that he didn’t just blow his chances with her as he discreetly dabbed at his tingly nose. Watching Aelwen keenly as she did her line expertly and without any coughing, cringing, or a runny nose. He giggled as he scrunched up his (semi-runny) nose at her, “Show off.”

Aelwen gasped, clutching her (actual) pearls, her eyes practically gleaming now. “Oh, I’m the show-off? Mr. Five Hundred Gold Piece Armani Suit with a Sabre at His Hip!” She quipped with an unrestrained smile on her plush lips. Letting out a laugh, she hauled herself up onto the railing. Kicking her feet, she flipped her hair as she asked with a bit of acid on her tongue, “Who are you trying to impress?”

Inside, he could hear the beginnings of the countdown, but he was far more interested in what was in front of him.

10!

9!

8!

“Can’t a man look good for himself?” Fabian shot back, sauntering up to Aelwen and placing his hands on her waist. You know, just in case she slipped and fell off. For the same reason, he held her a little tighter as he settled in between her legs. Leaning in close, he said, “Or any potential gorgeous women he may meet at a bar and subsequently do drugs with.”

7!

6!

5!

“How utterly specific.” Aelwen scoffed, even as she draped her arms around his broad shoulders. Her gaze flicking between his eye and his lips as she pressed closer and closer and—

4!

3!

2!

“Fabian?”

Happy New Year!

Fabian flinched away from Aelwen at the sound of Riz’s voice. Shit! Whipping his head around, he found Riz standing in the balcony doorway. Narrowed eyes as he took in the sight of him and Aelwen wrapped up in each other. Sighing heavily, Fabian called back to him, “Yes, Riz?”

“What in the Nine Hells do you think you’re doing?” Riz asked, throwing his arms up in the air and shaking his head.

Aelwen grimaced, her lip curling as she waved a hand to put a little more space between her and Fabian. “Oh, I don’t get in the middle of couples—”

“No! He’s my… friend. Just a second,” Fabian quickly said, holding up a finger before disentangling himself from Aelwen. Turning on his heel, he faced Riz with an impatient smile, his voice lowering to a harsh whisper. “Is something wrong with Eldermore?”

Riz scowled up at him, though he kept his voice as just as low as he spoke through his very sharp teeth. “Not yet, but we’re on a job right now, regardless! You can’t just sneak off t-to make out with some random woman.”

Like you sneaking off to partner up with some random fucker. Named Baron, of all things! What kind of name was Baron anyway?!

Rolling his eyes, Fabian snippily said, “Okay, fine. I’m coming,” before he turned back around to Aelwen. Wincing as he saw her hop off the railing and dust herself off. “Apologies, but my friend needs me.”

“Don’t worry,” Aelwen said, hardly sounding bothered at all. For a moment, Fabian thought he’d blown a chance with her, thanks to Riz’s interruption. But, perhaps because his luck was turning around, Aelwen pulled a slip of paper out of her handbag and teleported it into his breast pocket with a flick of her hand. With a sultry smirk, as she passed by him on her way off of the balcony, Aelwen whispered, “Keep that safe for me, Mr. Seacaster.” And with that, she sauntered back into the party. Not even looking back, she waved and called back. “Happy New Year, you two!”

[finalgirlgretchen]

if one more person tries to claim that the oh hellos are no longer christian i am going to lose my shit