#but the BASIS of the thought comes from much closer friendships and relationships where like

[elibean]

i complained on twitter about this and i can’t remember if i did it here too but it continues to be relevant...

this feeling that i’m more invested in my friendships/relationships than the person in question is. it sucks!!!

[happy74827]

Real Life Fairytale

[Robby Keene x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You tried so hard not to be that girl, but the more you were around him, the more you were convinced clichés could be a good thing.

WC: 712

Category: Fluff, First Kiss

Since Cobra Kai coming back later this month, here’s some fluff with the Marty Mcfly of karate.

『••✎••』

It was a typical cliché, and as much as you hated it, there was something that still pulled at you. Something that pulled you right into the arms of none other than Robby Keene.

Your relationship had been rocky at best; it had started out with him pickpocketing your purse and the two of you becoming friends because, at the time, you believed he was simply returning what you lost.

Of course, when your friendship officially became a friendship, he told you the truth and apologized. LaRusso had offered him a job, and everything he did suddenly became about changing his life and earning his place. He wanted to prove to his father that he was more than just some punk-ass kid from the wrong side of the tracks.

So, how did that bring you to where you are now? How did a guy like Robby Keene, dressed up in Marty McFly attire, become the center of your universe?

The Halloween Bash, of course.

Originally, the entire group of friends, the past feud between Robby and Miguel, had long been forgotten, so they decided to do one big group costume. Demetri thought it would be a good idea to go with the Power Rangers, which was fine, except for the fact that Eli was the only one who actually wanted to be a Ranger. Everyone else was either not impressed or completely clueless about who they were.

In the end, the group split off into their own individual costumes, and that's how you ended up with your favorite movie being used as the basis for your outfits.

It took a lot of convincing on your part. I mean, the dude looked practically identical to the real actor; he was the obvious choice. Throw a Walkman on him, and boom, the costume is perfect.

He blamed it on the hair, which it technically was. Ever since he ditched Dora's cut with Diego, he just became that geeky kid who freaked at the word 'chicken.'

And in all honesty, you truly believed he hated that word, too. Eli said it to bait him once, and he did not go down easily.

It only took you an hour to convince him, but after a while, he relented, and the costume was finalized.

So, obviously, when the two of you walked in with swag that only the 80s could pull off, you stayed for about an hour before Robby got bored and decided ice cream was the cure.

Now, the two of you were sitting on the steps of an apartment building, eating a gallon of ice cream and talking.

You swear, you didn't mean for it to happen, but the way he looked at you with those soft, blue eyes and the smile that could make a nun blush, you found yourself leaning closer.

"I had fun," he spoke quietly, his words dancing over your lips. "Even if I do look ridiculous."

You giggled. "Well, isn't that why we have Halloween? To look ridiculous?"

He shrugged and leaned closer, his eyes searching yours.

"You don't look ridiculous, though," you continued. "I think you look pretty good in a life preserver."

He grinned. "Yeah?"

It was something about the way he said that. The way you could hear the smile in his voice, but most of all, the way he looked at you when he said it. Like he was looking for permission to continue with what was already happening.

So, you answered by leaning in, connecting your lips with his, and giving him all the permission he needed.

His hands instantly flew to your hips, tugging you closer, and you found your own hands wrapping around his neck, deepening the kiss.

It was perfect, just like the movies. You regretted dressing up as Doc Brown, though. Not only was the radiation suit itchy, but you were acting like Jennifer Parker, and you didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Still, with the white hair off and his headphones finding their home around his neck, you figured maybe you'd force him to keep that part of the costume because, the way he was looking at you, you didn't want it to end.

You were sure it wouldn't, not any time soon.

[spearxwind]

not to sound weird but what was that work you put in to get where you are 🙏 i want to improve my life so bad but have no clue where to start. even a general gist of things

You dont sound weird! I think it's commendable to want to change your life for the better, and I want to help in any way I can :D

This is also my own perspective but I think a lot of it could be universally applied if you look at it through different lenses of ppls different situations. This also got rly long so I'm putting it under a readmore ^^;

So I had pretty much been isolating myself with increasing ferocity for years until recently. Even when trying to reach out to people I was extremely closed off, keeping my feelings behind many walls and chains always. A lot of my hard work has come from undoing all of that fuckup. I put all my eggs into my online friendships (and even then had a hard time with them).

My behavior was a cluster of personal garbage, learned mannerisms from keeping bad company, and hardwired reactions to specific behaviors. It's something pretty hurtful to realize when you do realize it, but that doesn't mean that you are a bad person or a failure or anything like that. It just means that you have certain bare minimum survival behaviors that worked before but now are only doing you damage, and you have to learn to undo them. (which is a great step!!)

Which brings me to what I have (painfully) learned over the past several years: the basis to any and every good relationship, romantic, platonic, family, or anything is crystal clear communication. Straight up for the love of god communication skills will save your life time and time and time again

And also like I said in earlier posts the solution to wanting to be more social is just BEING more social. This is arguably extremely hard, especially after years of "if they want me around they'll ask me" and always waiting to be invited but not wanting to bother anyone by asking if you can join NO!!!!!!!! GET THAT SHIT OUT OF YOUR BRAIN EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!!!!! It really does NOT work that way at all. People will invite you to things if they see you express interest in them. The same way that in your head you think 'theyll invite me if they want me to go' if they dont see you express interest people will think you dont want to join. If you go someplace and just stay recluse because youre shy they likely will also think "theyre probably not comfortable or dont want to be here, so we wont force them". People are inherently kind and they are definitely NOT thinking about shunting you on purpose (and I am speaking this, genuinely, from personal experience)

While I was studying my major I got close to a group of people and thought of them as my friend group, but they always seemed cold to me, and I rarely got invited to hangouts because they seemed closer among themselves so I ended up always thinking that they didn't really want me around, and created all of these assumptions in my mind about them or what they thought of me.

Years later, recently, I found one of them again just... randomly while walking through the street and we started talking. And in my much better state of mind I asked about this whole thing because I wanted to know how the rest of the group was doing (I care very much for them still) and he revealed to me that THEY were the ones who thought I was shutting myself off of the group bc I didnt wanna be close to them. Which just blew my mind but it made a lot of sense and explained a lot. I was always on my phone too, talking with my internet friends (because it was my comfort zone), so what they'd assumed was that I already had a friend group that I was invested in and so I wasnt going to prioritize them. SO basically this whole thing ended up being resolved with clear communication and would have been solved much earlier if I had just spoken up about it and gotten braver (though my mental state did not let me at the time)

Anytime you are making up assumptions and ultimatums in your mind without communicating them to the other party you should stop and very much go and speak out loud to the other party (or parties) it will genuinely do you good cause huge as hell brain snowballs do nothing but drown you in your own mind.

Also on the being social front, if you dont have the practice in then it will be hard but a lot of it is very much "fake it till you make it" and I genuinely cannot recommend that enough. Inject yourself into conversations and places and act like yourself unapologetically because the secret isnt to craft a persona that you think people will like, its just being yourself and finding people who will love you for who you are. And like I said I just got invested in other ppls plans and asked to be able to go to places, and oftentimes just by expressing interest i got invited "oh I love this show very much!!" "well we have a plan to watch it at my pals house do you wanna come?" "we were planning on going to X place this week" "omg that sounds so cool can I come with" "of course!" Generally people will respond with "the more the merrier" so please dont be afraid to ask. And even if you get a rejection or two it's fine, don't let it discourage you. Some plans are simply not meant to be, and that's totally fine too!

Something else I worked for was reestablishing contact with old highschool friends I'd lost and I missed terribly. I went out of my way to find them again (old phone numbers, old emails, old instagram accounts that hadnt posted since 2019), and I found them!

And most of them really missed me too and were absolutely thrilled I contacted them again, we picked up right where we left off eight years prior. With a lot to catch up to but its genuinely so nice to have them in my life rather than just melancholically thinking about them and wondering if they hated me or anything. Turns out that they had also thought to contact me as well or had tried and lost my phone, or some of them even thought that it was better to leave things as they were to not "stir up shit" so we were all stuck in the same loop of insane thinking without actually confirming it until one of us (me in this case) finally broke the ice (and it took a damn long time too)

The thing is, people are just like you. We all have our own mental nonsense to fight, and we all have our assumptions and propensity to think ourselves into the grave, that's why its so so so so important to communicate things as clearly and as often as possible. Bearing your suffering alone will only make you miserable in the end, and your circle is there to help you

As a last note, I do want to say I have been incredibly lucky, because the friend group I've been adopted into I have met through that one friend from uni that I just HAPPENED to find on the street. I could have not waved him over on the street and just kept walking with my music on and ignored him. I could have said 'no' to his offer to get dinner that day if I'd wanted to be home earlier. I could have never spoken up about liking eurovision and never gotten invited to the hangout where I met my bf. And none of this would have ever happened at all. But that just strengthens my advice of "just say yes and reach out of your comfort zone" because you never know where it's going to lead you!

All this to say:

Communicate clearly with your peers to reduce misunderstandings. More likely than not they'll be in the same boat as you are. (Also extra note. Communication works BOTH WAYS. It needs to come from both parties. It is also a skill you have to nurture and hone!!)

Be kind!! and be loving!! and be yourself unapologetically!!

reach out to people the same way that you'd want to be reached out to. It sucks that sometimes (even often) you have to be the one to do it, but you eventually reap what you sow and people will learn that they can reach out to YOU

People will respond in kind to you being nice to them and a positive energy in their life. Some people will take advantage of it yes, thats just how things are, and its something you have to learn to recognize but you should never let that steel your heart. It is so so so important to remain kind and loving the world needs it so much. We're all out here trying to make our own lives and our loved ones lives a little bit brighter <3

[kyndaris]

An Introspective Lull in the Pursuit of Love

I have often found that it is quite easy for me to fall into new routines. Take this blog, for example. In the past, it would contain impressions of the games I'd played and finished, along with the occasional anecdotes I'd come up with that had been on my mind. As I started to date, many of my posts soon changed to revolve around my attempts to find love. But despite going at it for nigh on two years, I haven't felt closer to cracking the mystery that is romance even as I've flooded my weekly entries about my adventures.

As my love life dwindles though, I've been scrambling to find something fun and lighthearted to share with the dear readers I've accrued on my blog. Not that there's many.

Still, at least I now have the opportunity to opine about the state of the world or properly allow my errant thoughts some breathing room.

Of course, if you've read the title of this blog, you'll know that in this instance, my thoughts haven't strayed too far from the familiar.

Since I've started chronicling the dates I've gone on, it has come as no surprise that I don't regard myself as straight. There have been many a time wherein I've asserted that I sit somewhere on the asexual spectrum. But recent revelations on who I might be attracted to has had me scrambling on what it means to be in a relationship and the sacrifices one needs to make.

Although I've opened my preferences for all genders on Hinge, I've found it extremely hard to date or chat with people from unique backgrounds. Invariably, most of the people that tend to like my profile or who I actually respond are cisgender heterosexual men. Probably because they're the ones most active on the dating apps. And while conversations can start off strong, it almost always seems to fail. Whether it's because they're a bad texter and I find it hard to continue a conversation or they just stop responding altogether.

The only person I've kept up a steady communication with is Dikottir. And in fact, we might be venturing out to VIVID Sydney for a fifth date (at time of writing, VIVID has only just begun). But while this may seem promising, it comes with the caveat that we've technically met in person since August 2023, with our initial chat on Hinge back in July of that same year.

If ever there was a relationship that was the epitome of a slow burn, this would be it.

Perhaps it comes from the fact both of us have our own individual lives and interests. Or maybe neither of us know how to navigate the quagmire encapsulating relationships.

I know I certainly don't lead a very riveting life that requires constant chronicling/ updating to a third party I barely even know. Heck, not even my own mother asks me how my day has gone even after absconding to China and leaving me to care for my grandmother (although, if I'm being honest, there's not much to say on a daily basis anyways. I wake up, I work, I cook and then I go to bed after playing some video games).

Besides, it's not like I consider Dikottir my Roman Empire. There are just so many other things to preoccupy me: books, video games, shows, road trip planning...

To be fair, Dikottir has been nothing but a gentleman. But after years of having romance novels and films harp about a 'spark' or the 'chemistry' between two people, the word I'd use to describe my 'relationship' with Dikottir would be torpid. At best.

Still, I persist. Wondering if this 'thing' between us will ever work out. Although, if I was being truly honest with myself, I think it'll just end up being a friendship.

Hinge, and many other dating apps, simply aren't very conducive for me in building up a connection. Constant interactions in a shared environment or a neutral setting are some of the best places for me to slowly build up the foundation to a strong friendship.

And yet, there have been people I've met that I've felt an odd compulsive pull where I want to learn more about them. Alas, it's only happened with women. As I've detailed before in an earlier post, there have been women I've been drawn to, believing we could be the best of friends. Is that love? Or is it the makings of a crush?

I wish I knew. I wish there was a definitive definition of what it means to fall in love with someone so I could tick off the symptoms and diagnose myself with it instead of having people tell me: "you'll know it when it happens to you."

A part of me does want to believe this is me like-liking someone but discussions with Sorrengail, a fellow ace, has described these instances of obsession as a 'squish.' And, in almost all instances, my swift and sudden obsessive curiosity does fade.

But it is in those rare moments that I do wonder if there might be something more beyond the platonic.

These last few days, I've posited the theory to myself that maybe I'm questioning these 'squishes' as something more because my mind has been focused on trying to build relationships and finding a romantic partner. But the more I do, the more I fear what might become of an actual committed relationship.

How much of myself will I need to compromise? Will it have all been a waste of time if nothing eventuates? How do I know if someone likes me or not? What are the 'signals' that I should be looking out for?

I think for most people the start of a relationship is always fraught with a mixture of emotions: the desire to make a good impression and the fear the other person might not like the 'real' you. Especially if you immediately lean into the chaos gremlin dwelling inside the human exoskeleton.

It's certainly something I've thought about because even as a neurotypical person, I've often found myself portraying a heightened version of myself to different social circles. For example, I know I can't go into a deep dive about Kingdom Hearts lore at work because no-one else would appreciate the collision of Disney and Japanese role-playing games. And I don't talk about the books I read to many of my non-reader friends.

While these aren't exactly separate personas, these images of me that I project are tailored to the audience I'm with.

Yes, they are all me but they are me in different situations.

And there aren't many social circles where I feel comfortable enough to unleash the nose-booping, terrible picture-taking chaos gremlin menace that I really am on the inside. At least, I'm not comfortable with showing off that side of me.

Although, yes, there are people at work who know I'm a big massive nerd. And who are a little frightened of my ability to memorise addresses.

I also have a tendency of phrasing things terribly. So, there might be a subset of people I know who fear for their lives (looking at you Chinchilla) even though I wouldn't hurt a fly (that's a lie. I kill a lot of insects).

Jokes aside, I'm also worried I've entered this race for all the wrong reasons. Love isn't something to be pursued. You can't force it. It either comes naturally or it doesn't. But maybe, too, I need to stop being oh so cautious and just jump in with both feet if I do feel something.

As Ellie Chu, from the film The Half of It put it: love isn't patient and kind and humble. Love is messy and horrible and selfish and bold. It's not finding your perfect half. It's the trying and the reaching and failing. Love is being willing to ruin your good painting for the chance at a great one."

Maybe that's what I need to do. Instead of comparing and contrasting Hinge profiles to see who might be a good fit and letting my executive functioning do most of the work, I should lean into my instincts. Instead of fearing that a relationship won't work out, I need to fight in the trenches for it.

And whether or not love will hit me over the head with a hammer or sneak up on me like an assassin, I need to be open to it.

Easier said than done!

But hey, that's life, isn't it?

[middleearthpixie]

Promise Me ~ Chapter Nine

Summary: Friends since childhood, Gabriella has long held back her feelings where Boromir is concerned, as she did not want to risk losing his friendship if he didn't feel the same. But, then he is summoned to Rivendell, and the night before he is to leave, he stuns Gabriella by confessing his feelings for her as well. 

But, war is coming and he cannot put off what he knows must be done. All Gabriella can do is wait for him and pray for his safe return. 

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Gabriella

Characters: Gabriella, Boromir, Aron

Warnings: unprotected intercourse, oral sex (f receiving) 

Rating: M

Word Count: 5k

Tag List: @sotwk @heilith @fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @emmyspov @finnofamerica @lathalea @ass-deep-in-demons @quiall321 @mistofstars @justfollowtheroad @guardianofrivendell @glassgulls

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Sometimes, dreams do come true.

Gabriella smiled as she snuggled closer to Boromir. Part of her was unable to believe this had all actually happened. She’d imagined it again and again, but somehow never believed it would ever come to pass. Then she thought him dead and her hope was shattered beyond repair.

But now? Now, everything was different. 

He lay quietly beside her, his arm snug about her shoulders, her head resting peacefully against his chest, tucked into the slope where it met his right shoulder. Nothing had ever felt so perfect as this. His fingers had brushed along her upper arm, but little by little, the strokes slowed, then stopped altogether. He was asleep, his breathing deep and even, his sleep peaceful. Good. He’d earned a restful slumber.

She rose onto one elbow to gaze down at him. In sleep, his anguish, his loss, everything he’d been through seemed to fall away and as she just watched him sleep, he reminded her of the young man she’d met on the Anduin’s banks so long ago. She wished there was some way to stop time completely, to give him a bit of time to rest away from the realities of his new life, to let him remember that same young man. 

She had been all of thirteen years old that fateful day, and when he’d approached her, he looked so furious, that for a moment, she was genuinely frightened. But, having spent so much of her childhood in a tavern, she knew showing fear was never a wise tact to take. So, she stood up to the steward’s son as if it was something she’d done on a daily basis. 

He’d seemed surprised by it, but the next day, he’d come looking for her to assure her that the horse was just fine. In that moment, a friendship was born. To so many, he was the Steward’s heir, but to her, he was just Boromir. He was brash and handsome and brave and he looked out for her and for his brother and for the people of Gondor as a whole. He and his brother saw her as the sister they’d never had, and she was perfectly content with that until the day came when she’d realized what she felt for Boromir was far more than sisterly affection.

She couldn’t remember a time when she didn't love him. As the years passed, and each one found themselves in a relationship with someone else, something would always happen to cause that other relationship to fall apart. For her, it was always the sense of not being with the right person, not being as comfortable with any other man as she was with Boromir. No matter what, he was the one she always wanted to share good news with and his was always the shoulder upon which she looked to cry or lean. 

More often than not with Boromir, any woman he might have had an interest in always grew increasingly jealous of his relationship with Gabriella. He confessed one night about a year earlier that he’d been given an ultimatum where she was concerned. And that did not sit well with him.

But now, they stood on the precipice of an entirely new future and this time, she would not let fear get in their way. She had waited so long for him, for this moment, and she wished she had some way to make it last a bit longer as well, for it was better than she’d even allowed herself to imagine. With one finger, she traced along the rough stubble from his jaw to his chin. Normally, his cheeks were smooth and clean-shaven, with just the goatee, but it had obviously been some time since he’d last been able to shave, for he was well on his way to a full beard. 

His was such a fascinating face. And not only because he was so powerfully handsome (although it certainly did help) but because his features were bold and strong, and his dark golden-brown hair set off his pale eyes so perfectly. She could study him forever and not ever grow bored, would still find something new and fascinating about him with each day. 

She wondered about the scar on his forehead, though. It was only barely visible, a faint, slightly jagged thin line that began just above the inner corner of his left eyebrow and trailed almost to his hairline. She didn't know where he’d gotten it, only that he’d aways had it.

He stirred then, stretching, then wincing as he did, one hand reaching for the wounds on his left left as he groaned, “Ooh…”

“Are you all right?” she murmured.

His eyes opened slowly and for a minute, confusion clouded them. But then, he looked up at her and a smile curved his lips. “This wasn't a dream.”

“No,” she shook her head, “it wasn’t.”

“It was, though. For a long time.” Sleep made his voice low and husky, and the sound of it caused her belly to twist in an odd, but delicious, way. “I’d dream of you, dream of waking with you this way,” he went on, “only to find myself alone.”

She lowed against him, brushing a few wisps of honey-gold hair away from his forehead. “What did you dream?”

His smile went from sleepy to seductive. “I cannot recall.”

“Why do I not believe you?”

His eyes slid closed again. “If I told you, you would probably hit me.”

“Why?”

The linens rustled softly and she couldn't hold back her gasp as he suddenly came up over her and pinned her beneath him. “Because they were a far cry from the tenderness you’ve probably dreamed about.”

“Oh, know me so well, do you?” She smiled up at him, reaching to trace her forefinger along the bear medallion dangling between them. “I’ll have you know, my imaginings were not always hearts and flowers and tenderness.”

Perhaps it was but her imagination, but she’d swear his eyes darkened. “Is that so?”

“It is, indeed.” Her hand went still and heat crept into her cheeks as she held his gaze and whispered, “Since you left, they grew far less hearts-and-flowers, as well, and if I were to tell you, you’d never look at me the same way again.”

“Oh, love,” his voice grew huskier still, “I promise you, whatever you imagined, I will gladly do and I will never see you as anything but the woman before me now.”

She eased her arms about his waist, letting her fingernails trail lightly along his back, and smiled as he shivered against her. “Promise me.”

“I promise you, love,” he murmured, lowering himself until his lips brushed hers. “Tell me…”

He kissed her then, a slow, lingering kiss that she felt clear through to the center of her being, one that made her toes curl and her heart sing because it conveyed so much more of his emotion than he could most likely put into words. Boromir was a warrior, not a poet, and touch was his romance language, as she realized when his lips moved so slow and teasingly against hers. She’s never felt such fire in a kiss before, and without thinking, she tightened her arms about him to pull him flush against her, savoring the heat that wafted from his body to sink into hers. She loved the feel of him against her, the solid, muscled planes of his body fit so perfectly against the softer planes of hers. 

Her head spun, slowly at first, but then with more force as he broke the kiss to sweep hot lips down over her chin, along the front of her neck, which bowed of its own accord. He kissed down across her collarbone, and over the rise of her breast and when those unexpectedly soft lips closed about her nipple, her back bowed and her her breath hitched at the spark of pleasure that burst deep within her. The tingles radiated outward from where he teased her so sensually, filled her, made her limbs so languid, made her heart race. 

He moved so slowly, exploring her as if she was the most fascinating thing he’d ever encountered. Not an inch of skin was spared as he feathered kisses down along her belly, along the ridge of her hipbone, down along her thigh. He took the linens with him as he moved down her length, the air a warm caress against her bared skin. 

But she forgot about everything when he shifted and she sucked in a hard breath at the whisper of his lips along the curls between her thighs. It was the last thing she’d expected and as the fire filled her, she couldn’t hold back her lusty sigh. Her legs parted of their own and her fingers twisted—one hand in the pillow beneath her head, the other, she shoved into his hair and held on for dear life as his tongue swept through those curls. Fire tore through her with the first stroke and it only grew hotter with each caress. He was gentle, teasing her with each swirl, each flick, until she thought she’d go mad from the sensations he sent roaring through her.

Her fingers tightened in his hair. On the pillow. Her thoughts grew jumbled and wild, her voice husky as she breathed, “Boromir…” which seemed to spur him on. Her hips arced on their own, moving with him as the pleasure grew hotter and sweeter and threatened to blow her apart. 

Knots twisted deep within her. Her blood practically boiled, scorching through her veins as her head spun from the sheer madness of what wonderful things this man made her feel. With each stroke, each caress, he brought her closer to the cliff, held her there, suspended in time as the wave rushed toward her, gaining power with each passing moment. She squirmed against him, breathless as she trembled beneath him, as she could only whisper, “Oh… yes… Boromir… please…” as every fiber and sinew in her body tensed in anticipation of the sweet release of climax. 

Then it happened.

The dam burst, pleasure, hot and tingly, flooded her body, made starbursts erupt before her eyes as her back bowed and her cry rang out husky and raw. He continued to tease her as the bliss surged through her to render her senseless and left her almost crying from the sheer delight reverberating through her. 

The wave ebbed, and he gently brought her back, her breath impossible to catch and thoughts impossible to form as she sank into the bed sated and spent and almost melted into a puddle beneath him. 

Boromir kissed his way back up, along her hip, over her stomach. He swept a teasing kiss up between her breasts, along her neck, until his lips found hers once more and she wrapped herself about him. As he came flush against her, he reached between them and gently breached her with a low, throaty moan.

His first thrust had her clinging to him, her fingernails sinking into his back, her lips claiming his in a fiery kiss as she melted around him. He surged inside her, each thrust powerful and deep and driving her closer to that amazing abyss once more. She didn't even know it was possible to teeter on the edge of another climax so quickly, so easily, but he knew exactly how to touch her, how to drive her to the brink of madness.

He drew back to gaze down into her eyes, a seductive and sinful smile on his lips as he whispered, “I love you, Gabby…” breathlessly as he moved so easily inside her. 

“I love you, too.” She was equally breathless, her fingernails biting into him with more force as she tightened all around him. He also teetered on the edge, she felt it in the way his entire body tensed, in the way his eyes suddenly closed and a low moan tore itself free from his throat.

She met each thrust, gripped his sides with her thighs, raked her fingernails up along his back as he gave a maddening thrust that burst those delicious knots inside her once more. He arched hard, deep, and shuddered as he went over the edge and came with a low moan, tensing as he spilled into her. She welcomed him, welcome his release, throbbing and pulsing around him as his climax triggered her own and they moaned as one. 

Then, he sank against her, fighting for breath as he let his head come to rest in the curve of her shoulder. “My darling Gabriella,” he whispered, his breath sharp, hard blasts against her skin, “marry me…”

She smiled into the darkness, nuzzling him as she whispered, “What was that?”

He lifted his head, regarding her with smoky green eyes. “Will you? Marry me, that is. I do believe you and I have wasted enough time, don't you think?”

She reached up to brush her fingers through his hair, tucking it behind one ear as she said, “Are you certain? I mean, you’ve so many changes to deal with in so short a time.”

“I am positive, love.” He offered up that boyish smile that never failed to make her heart melt. “There is no one else I wish to spend my days with other than you, Gabby. My days. My nights. My life. Hopefully the war will end soon and perhaps then you and I can think about a family, for I should like to have children with you. I might be a bit biased, but I think we’d make some beautiful ones, don’t you?”

Her eyes stung and her lips trembled as she just gazed up at him. “I’ve never heard you speak like this, Boromir. Wife. Family. Children. These are not words I’ve ever heard pass your lips.”

“I did not know I wanted them until I was separated from you. But, by the time I’d received your letter in Lothlórien, I knew that when this was all over and I was back home, I wanted to make my home with you. If you’ll have me, since you’ve not given me an answer, you know.”

“Are you certain?”

He nodded. “I am, I absolutely am. Gabby,” he flinched as he withdrew and then carefully shifted to lay beside her, “there hasn’t been much light in my life. You know that. But, you have always been one of those lights and it took nearly dying for me to see that I not only wish to grow old, I wish to do so with you.”

She propped herself up on one fist, and with her free hand, traced a lazy circle across his chest. “I do like how that sounds.”

His hand came to rest on hers, stilling it. “So, will you marry me?”

She gazed down at him, at the face she had loved since she was a girl, into the green eyes that always made her feel so safe and secured and now held her with a love she’d never even known could exist until just now. This was something she’d dreamed of, but never truly allowed herself to think might come true. 

“Gabby?”

“I do love you,” she murmured, easing her hand from beneath his to bring it up and trace lightly along his jaw. 

His face darkened. “I sense a but is coming.”

“No,” she shook her head, smiling as she curved her hand against his rough cheek, “there is no but. Of course I will marry you, love.”

He visibly relaxed and his smile was brighter than any she’d seen before. “You had me worried, you know,” he murmured. “I thought you might turn me away.”

“Why? Have I given you reason to doubt me, Boromir?”

“Never.” The linens rustled softly and the bed creaked as he rolled and came over her. “Never in all of the years of our friendship, have I ever doubted you. You are everything to me, my darling Gabby. Everything.”

It was but a whisper, and yet she’d never heard anything so filled with fire, with passion, as his words. She eased her arms about his midsection, her fingernails grazing along his back. “I love you,” she murmured, trailing her fingernails down toward his hips. 

“Oh… love,” he breathed, shivering as she stroked up this time. His eyes closed, his head came to rest in the curve of her neck and he murmured, “If you asked me for anything at this moment, it would be yours.”

“I will keep that in mind,” she told him, trailing her fingers back toward his hips. This time, she reached lower, over the firm mounds of his backside, and when he actually moaned, she couldn't hold back her laugh.

“I never knew you were so sensitive,” she told him, her hands going still.

“Neither did I.”

“You mean, no other woman ever did this?” She lowered her voice to a purr as she dragged her fingernails over those rises again.

“If they did, I cannot recall it,” he managed to whisper back as his breath hitched and he shuddered against her again. “Oh, that feels so very nice…”

She smiled into the growing darkness. “You know, the correct answer is what women, Gabby? There’s been no one but you.”

He went still and lifted his head. “I thought you already knew that, love. What other women? There has been no one but you.”

Before she could refute it, he dipped to capture her lips with his and as he did, her urge to tease him faded into memory. Who cared who came before her when she was there now? It hardly mattered. Besides, she would much rather lose herself in his kiss than dredge up a past that no longer mattered, anyway.

The smell of damp, decaying leaves filled his nose as his knees buckled and he hit the forest floor. Pain consumed him, each arrow the point of origin for the fires in his thigh, in his chest. Fires that spread quickly through his entire body, that made thinking difficult, made breathing nearly impossible.

The halflings had stopped. He’d told them to run. Demanded that they run. But there they stood, rooted in place, their faces pale, their eyes wide, as the Uruk-hai fitted an arrow into his bow.

His head spinning, pain doubling his vision, Boromir saw two of the ugly orc before him. Saw the bow raise. The orc aimed for between his eyes. The kill shot. 

Gabby.

He saw her standing before him, the long, loose ringlets of her hair spilling over her shoulders. She fairly radiated peace and tranquility as she held out her hands.

The halfling with with her. Frodo Baggins with his saucer-like eyes stared up at him, those huge eyes filled with fear. 

“I know what you would say,” Frodo said, his voice only barely above a whisper as he stared up him. “It would seem like wisdom, but for the warning in my heart.”

“I just want to help my people,” he growled at the halfling. His gut twisted with irritation at the hobbit’s resistance. “I ask only for the strength to defend my people!”

The voice grew louder as it urged him to tackle the hobbit, to grab the chain about his neck and snap it from him. With the Ring, he could destroy Sauron. He could use it against Gondor’s enemies and maybe—just maybe—make his father happy. Make him proud. Perhaps then, he wouldn’t feel the need to berate Faramir constantly, to remind him that he could never share the pedestal upon which he’d placed Boromir. The pedestal that Boromir so desperately wished to topple from. 

Regret came instantly when the hobbit disappeared. But it wasn't regret at not getting the Ring. 

No, he regretted his weakness. The blasted weakness that propelled him to attack the halfling, to make him fear for his own safety, his own life.

He stared at that arrow now as the Uruk-hai drew back the bowstring. The fire in his chest, in his leg, burned like a wildfire raging out of control. Sweat bathed him. He was hot and cold at the same time. 

The string sang as it was released and the arrow swooshed straight at him.

Boromir lurched awake, managing to bite back his gasp as he remembered Gabby lay curled against him, sound asleep in his arms. He fought to control his breathing, his racing heart, and his eyes darted about wildly at first until he remembered also that he was no longer in the woods at Amon Hen, but tucked away in the safety of his own chambers back in Minas Tirith.

Gabby stirred. “Boromir?”

“Shhhh… love… go back to sleep.”

She sank back again him with a sigh. He waited a few minutes, then carefully disentangled himself from her and slid to the far edge of the bed to rise, then padded across the small room to the windows overlooking the city below. He didn't worry about being naked. No one down there could possibly see him so far up and if Gabby awoke to see him there, so what? She’d become intimately familiar with his body in the last twelve hours, so he minded not if she saw him, either. 

Smoke still rolled across the Pelennor Fields, although all was quiet. Fires still burned, and they would be dealt with once all of the wounded were brought in and the dead buried.

Dead buried.

He had no idea what happened next, now that his father was gone. He was but six years old when Denethor succeeded his father as steward, and could not recall what, if any, formalities came with the transfer of the title. He also found he did not particularly care one way or the other, either. In fact, if Faramir lived and wished to take over as steward, he would gladly step aside. He only wanted to marry Gabby and start a family and work to bring Minas Tirith back to what it once was and he did not need to be steward to do that. He just needed to give a damn. And he did. Let Faramir have the power. He would do the work and that was fine with him. 

The soft knock at the door made him jump and he swiped his robe from the wardrobe, wrapping it about himself as he hurried to answer that knock before his visitor woke Gabby.

“What?” It emerged as a harsh whisper as he glared down as the man who’d disturbed his peace. 

“I am so terribly sorry to disturb you, my lord,” the man on the opposite side of the threshold said, looking more than a bit nervous over having knocked on his door. 

“What is it?” Boromir knotted the belt. “It’s barely dawn.”

“I understand that, my lord, but… well… it’s important.”

“What is?” Boromir couldn’t keep the impatience from his voice. The last thing he wanted was for his unexpected guest to wake Gabby. 

“You are needed below.”

“For what?”

“There is a halfling below who has asked to see you. It seems he does not believe you have returned.”

Boromir straightened at that. “A halfling?”

“Yes, my lord. His name is Pippin and he has been asking Ioreth about having an audience with you. She’s been putting him off, but seeing as how you seem to be up and about now—”

Boromir nodded. “I will see him, yes. Of course.” 

“Shall I tell him when?”

“I need to dress first and then I will meet him in Denethor’s… no… send him up here, please.”

“Up here, my lord?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“And Miss Gabriella, my lord?”

Boromir smiled. “I will clear it with her first. And Aron?”

“Yes?”

“You tell no one that she is here, is that understood?”

“My lips are sealed, my lord.” 

“Good. Keep them that way.”

“I give you my word.”

“Send the halfling up.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Aron left then and Boromir turned back toward his bedchamber. He had to hope he could trust Aron not to sully Gabby’s name, although once they were married, it would hardly matter.  Still, he’d rather not have anyone gossiping about her, if he could possibly prevent it.

He padded back into the bedchamber, pausing in the doorway, leaning up against the doorjamb as he gazed over at Gabby, still sound asleep in his bed.

How many nights did he imagine a sight such as this? How many times did he close his eyes and wonder what it would be like to wake up with her every morning or fall asleep with her in his arms every night? He could never admit such things to anyone else, but he did imagine and he did wonder since he was more boy than man. 

And now, there she was, asleep on her stomach, her glorious hair spilling across his linens, the morning sunlight dancing along her pale skin. She was ever more beautiful with each passing day and he looked forward to the life they would build together—the life he’d been given the second chance at living.

But, if she knew what happened at Amon Hen, if she knew what he’d done…

No, she could never know.

She stirred, lifting her head as she squinted over at him. “Boromir? Is something the matter?”

“Not at all,” he forced a smile as he moved to sink onto the edge of the bed. “Did you sleep well?”

She offered up at sleepy smile as she eased onto her back and caught a handful of her hair to toss out of her eyes. “I did. What about you? Why are you up?”

“Someone was knocking at the door and I didn't wish them to disturb you.”

Her eyes widened, the sleepiness fading from them. “Did they know I was here?”

“I don’t think so, no.” He shook his head, unable to resist touching her cheek with his fingertips. “You needn’t worry.”

Her eyes slid shut slowly, and that simple movement stirred his lust again. How was that even possible, after the night he’d spent with her? She left him sated and spent and now, he just wished to lean in and feel her lips against his, just wished to eased her down onto her back and feel her beneath him once more.

So he did just that.

He felt her smile as their lips met and when she wound an arm about his neck to tug him flush against her. She was so soft, so pliant against him. It wouldn’t take much for him to lose himself in her once more.

It was his turn to smile as she caught the knot in the belt of his robe and tugged and he pulled away to whisper, “What are you doing, love?”

“Do you wish me to stop?”

“Not at all.” His eyes closed as she unknotted the belt and her hand slid along his inner thigh. Heat swirled through him, bubbled through his blood, and he bit back a sigh at the trace of her fingernails along the sensitive flesh. As she stroked upward, her lips found his, her kiss sweet and sensual at the same time, her free hand slipping into his hair. 

His head began a slow spin, gaining speed when she swept her wickedly soft lips along his jaw, toward his ear. He couldn’t hold back his shiver, whispering, “Oh, sweetheart… I wish I could but stay here but… oh, that feels so good…”

Her fingers slid higher along his thigh, and he had to pull back abruptly. “Wait… no… I—one of the halflings is on his way up here, Gabby…”

Her hand fell back to the bed. “What?”

“He asked to see me.” He reluctantly pulled away from her, which took every bit of will he possessed. “And I… there are some things he and I need discuss.”

Her eyes swirled pewter with concern as she sat up. “Need to discuss? Why?”

“Because we do, is why.” He stood and moved across the room to his wardrobe. “So, you are welcome to stay if you wish, but—”

“Boromir.” She slid to the edge of the bed and rose and he bit back a groan at the sight of her, the sunlight behind her, like an aura, highlighting the delicate curve of her waist, the shapeliness of her arms and legs. He had to look away or else he’d be powerless to resist her and Pippin would see far more than he’d bargained for when Aron brought him up. “Was he with you? When you were wounded?”

“Why do you ask me that? What difference does it make?”

“Well, I’m curious. There were no halflings in Minas Tirith before and I know you traveled with several, so I assume—”

“You would do well to stop assuming things you’ve no knowledge of,” he cut her off sharply. 

She held his stare, her eyes growing darker by the second. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” he growled, yanking open the doors. 

“I did, but I do not understand. Why are you angry with me?”

“Because you assume you know me better than you do.” He rummaged about inside the wardrobe until he found what he sought. “And you don’t, you know. You know nothing beyond these walls and those fields!”

“I might not know much about what has happened beyond these walls, but I do know you, Boromir! And I know at the moment, you are acting like a jackanapes! So, you needn’t worry about my bothering you or your fool halfling!” She whisked her tunic and trousers from the foot of the bed, where he’d draped them before they’d fallen asleep, and yanked the former over her head and the latter up along her legs. 

“Gabriella, wait—”

She threw up a hand as she marched past him, and he winced as the door to his apartment slammed and a heavy silence crashed down around him. An oath rose to his lips as he sank onto the edge of the bed and let his head fall into his hands. Fury knotted his gut, and all he wished to do was put his fist through something to alleviate it. He had to find some what to do just that, before he ruined the last good thing in his life.

[abimee]

i get where posts are coming from when they talk about the, i dont know what better way to example them besides ''weird/strange disorders'' people are often adverse to, and in ways that try to make them palatable/less scary like ''oh my friend who hears voices actually enjoys them and she finds comfort in them'' and doing things in a way to mitigate the fear of them, even people who have them themselves doing this. but i dont really enjoy that this is the only line that these thoughts go through, of how entertaining or enjoyable these things can be, when i think we do need more understanding of them by demanding the outside participant recognize that theyre not always going to get that feel-good depiction of our disorders

like the best way i can personally put it is yeah some of my disorder symptoms are enjoyable on my part, but a problem with that is when im manic and in a state that makes me feel good i can often become a danger to myself or others because im so hopped up on my own euphoria that i forget consequences and limitations exist, and so often mania is just as bad for me if not worse for me than depression because im incapable of being self aware, critical, realistic, and the mania can often feed into a dangerous mindset teetering me closer to suicide than depression. but mania getting played off as just '' i have so much energy! i got zoomies!" or ''mania is actually really cool because [x]'' when in all actuality of someone like me with insane bipolar swings starts telling you how enjoyable mania is Thats A Bad Sign

or like with the symptoms that float somewhere between my bipolar and ocd. im going to ask for some incredibly insane accomodations or say things that i dont understand may be hurtful because what may be a silly little quirk you do may feel like someone is putting their nails into my skin and dragging them down my back until they draw blood. or i may act offputting because my brain is either trying to tell me that i was destined by god to save you from your relationship, that i have no basis to believe is unhealthy purely besides my brain telling me that because you arent dating me that you are surely in a shitty relationship, or the complete opposite where im certain you are in fact only in my life to steal my friends and make a mockery of me by long conning me into getting close to you and revealing information for you to put out and get me hunted down and killed like an animal for, even thought there is no such information besides my brain telling me There Might Be and I just forgot

and to have friendships and close relationships with people similar to me is to have to not only respect back but understand that youre not going to get the feel good caretaker shit where my bipolar actually makes me a fun and interesting person to be around or my comorbid ocd actually makes me a really safety orientated person, it means youre going to have to watch me just directly not say some things to you on a discord call because i think were being recorded by secret agents and me asking you to come pick me up a 3 mile drive away randomly because i tried taking a vacation but psyched myself into believing im going to die if i dont get back home and i need to get home NOW. like i get positivity posts about the ''scary/weird'' disorders have their time and place but when all i see is people trying to make us palatable i wonder if even people like me who are defined and live day by day with their neurosis would be included because we exemplify some of many reasons why these disorders are in the neurodivergence category, one defined by the fact that we dont need medication and to be ''cured'' as much as we need the world around us to learn to accomodate us and accept us without trying to change us.

and theres people more severe than me! certainely! im only in the medium to extreme range of bipolar being youthful and not experiencing more psychosis symptoms, but even i can be offputting and upsetting to others purely by thr way my bipolar has wired me, and i wonder if IM considered ''too much'' for people how my siblings who need 24 hour round clock assistance and care to live will be treated and if the people who wanna de-fang disorders can accept those people as friends and family and closed ones. this also goes into stuff like how we can pass these disorders onto their kids, and what if your child is the violent stereotype? what if the voices arent nice? what if your child cant be left alone with a babysitter or anybody besides a select set of people without freaking out? what then

[byanyan]

@quick-drawn sent:ㅤ👫 equivalent exchange,,, please i'm begging —

relationship headcanonsㅤㅤ✧ * º •ㅤㅤaccepting!!

ㅤme, bouncing off some of the thoughts you posed in your answer for this very meme? more likely than you think. ...better toss in a tag for @chronal-anomaly too since lena comes up a fair amount.

ㅤin the beginning, byan is basically just the biggest nuisance. while they gave up trying to make a fake id work since cassidy figured them out in seconds the first time, they still sneak into the bar on a regular basis. it's entirely too common for them to steal not only from the bar, but from cass's customers as well. they've also instigated at least one bar fight. after discovering that cassidy is lena's best friend however, and not exactly being thrilled with that revelation, they are at least slightly more well-behaved. ...if only because they suspect that they'll immediately be tattled on if they cause too much issue. they do still steal from the bar's patrons though, that's just never gonna stop.

ㅤthere's definitely more of a resistance that's put up toward cassidy after learning of their common tie to lena — in particular, byan is a lot more aggressive any time he tries to play nice or tries to offer an understanding ear. they don't like the idea of him thinking he can swoop in and play the role of a big brother just because he happens to be so close to the person they've come to view as their big sister, regardless of whether or not that's what he's actually trying to do. however, i think that resistance melts away a bit as they come to recognize how much they have in common with him. there are things cassidy can relate to which lena can't, and that lends itself well to them potentially opening up to him, at least a little. any time this happens though, it ends in them threatening him if he shares it with anyone, including lena. he's not even allowed to imply that they had a serious talk to her. do not talk about their character development with other people.

ㅤthat being said, i'm also kind of fond of the idea of their relationship going through a brief stint of petulant rivalry before they warm up to one another. like, just childishly sniping at one another (mostly behind lena's back, i'm sure) and vying for lena's attention. honestly, it's probably more one-sided (on byan's side, of course), but i can kinda see cass getting sucked in occasionally despite being the adult. the severity of it lessens over time; byan's just not used to having to share someone they care about, even if they were doing it unknowingly for such a long time.

ㅤi would also have you consider the idea of, as they grow closer and build a sort of friendship between the two of them, byan coming to cass when they get themself into trouble with some less savoury people. it's partly because they don't want to accidentally put lena in any danger due to their own fuck up, but also part because he knows a lot better how to handle that sort of thing. they don't want to go to him for help, similarly to how they still don't like asking lena for help, so they drag their feet on actually telling him what's going on, but when he finally cuts through all the bullshit they're spewing to ask why they're actually here, byan kinda just. tells him. begrudgingly, of course, but they don't know where else to go.

[yoonpobs]

dilf (and love) | knj | m

pairing: kim namjoon x oc

genre: fluff, domestic fluff, smut, established relationship, marriage and kids lol

warnings: light dom/sub themes, pregnancy kink, penetrative sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), DILF JOON

words: 6, 702

summary: it's been too long since you and namjoon had time to yourselves

“God take that thing away from me!” You whine as you smother your face with your hands.

Jin pins you with a dry look as he catches a glimpse of ‘that thing’ who is looking up at you with big eyes and a toothless grin.

“That thing is your child …” Jin says blandly.

“That thing is ruining my sex life.” You narrow your eyes at Chanmi as she babbles some incoherent words with her ten-month-old vocabulary. You’d think as the daughter and apple of Kim Namjoon’s eye that she’d be able to read, write and speak sixteen languages at the age of one.

You still allow Chanmi to wrap her chubby fingers around your thinner ones and you can’t help but coo at your daughter. While she may have been the one thing that disrupted any intimate moment between you and Namjoon, you would fight anyone that would ever dare to mess with her. Your own husband included.

“Please, spare the details,” Jin mutters under his breath as he watches Chanmi fondly as she attempts to tug at your sleeve in hopes of getting your attention. You squeeze her cheeks before lifting her up in your arms and hold her close to your chest. You whine because she smells so … fresh. Just like a little bread baby that was all yours.

God, you loved her.

“My old sex life brought me this angel.” You grin up at your daughter who just smiles at you, unknowing of the context of your words.

“Can you stop using such vulgar words in front of your child?” Jin scolds you but doesn’t do anything much to take Chanmi out of your grasp.

You roll your eyes.

“She’s like 300 days old. She doesn’t even know how to shit at a decent hour let alone understand what sex is. Penis in vagina. Destroying pussy. A hole in one. Railing—”

Jin slaps his hand over your mouth to get you to stop talking as he glares at you.

“Why did my brother marry a heathen like you.” Jin seethes.

You shrug nonchalantly as you turn your head to see your dumbhead yet smart-ass husband that was attempting to glue back the shards of glass from the wine glass he broke earlier in hopes of you not realising.

“He needed to put his 148 IQ to good use and I’m the best investment his finance major ever got him.”

“The only good thing that came out of your marriage is this cutie.” Jin coos at his niece and you have half the mind to withdraw his Chanmi visiting card because whenever he was over all he did was berate you and your … unique ways of parenting.

But Jin would still say he cared for you as far as a brother-in-law would but with the added benefit of the fact that he was your best friend before he became your brother-in-law. You were an interesting character, to say the least, and the only reason you managed to befriend Jin was due to the fact that you didn’t know what boundaries meant and had invaded his personal space on the first day of lectures when you leaned over him to throw something at a know-it-all. Jin had been annoyed, but then an unlikely friendship bloomed out of the mutual distaste for ‘Howard from Accounting’.

He introduced you to Namjoon just because he thought that it was hilarious that you and his brother were polar opposites. Jin didn’t even expect the two of you to get along with each other let alone fall in love, but life had a funny way of saying ‘fuck you and your expectations’ to Jin when he least expected it.

The only thing that he regrets is the fact that now he had to listen to both you and his brother whine about your sex life, or lack thereof after the two of you became parents. Being a mother was hard because there was no manual to tell you what was right or wrong when it came to your baby but the experience itself. When you first fed Chanmi softened shrimp in her meals and caused an allergic reaction; you cried for hours straight because you felt like you should’ve just known.

Namjoon was a good partner and an even better father because he was understanding. The first few months postpartum he respected the fact that you weren’t ready to show your body to him because of the way it changed after giving birth to Chanmi, and he never told you that you were in your head for feeling that way. He validated all your feelings through all the rough edges that you gave him when you were going through your own things.

You finally felt comfortable to get naked around Namjoon at the five-month mark where your sex drive returned to that of when you were in your early twenties and just begun knowing how to truly enjoy sexual intimacies with a partner, but a five-month-old baby didn’t allow for much intimacy with your hot ass husband either.

It sucked because Namjoon had always been broad and very dad-like, and after he officially became a father to Chanmi you just felt like salivating over him every waking second you got because … God … Namjoon was a gift from the God’s themselves. Whenever you saw the way he handled Chanmi with absolute gentleness and care you felt like dropping to your knees and sucking the soul out of him. It didn’t help that he wore his glasses every night when he tucked her into bed and read her Shakespeare because it would ‘help with development’. You loved your husband but he was a little excessive.

“Oh God stop drooling over my brother!” Jin grimaces when he sees the bedroom eyes you were shooting Namjoon from where the two of you were with Chanmi.

You sigh dreamily and lean against your palm as you check out Namjoon’s ass.

“I can’t help that your brother and my husband has an ass like that.” You click your tongue.

Chanmi giggles again and it’s like a bell chiming at your favourite cafe when you cuddle her closer, feeling comfort in her scent. She smelt just like home and bubbles.

“How about I give you a sibling, huh?” You whisper to Chanmi who just opens her mouth to babble. Jin on the other hand facepalms himself and sighs.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m horny.” You shrug.

“Correction: you’re insufferable on a daily basis but absolutely horrifying to deal with when you’re horny.” He sneers.

“I just need to bed him and I’ll be fine.” You drawl, as your husband who spent the better half of your conversation fixing the wine glass grins to himself with his dimples when he finally placed the last piece of glass back into place. He was so meticulous and cute for the wrong reasons.

“Jesus, stop …” Jin groans.

“Jesus would definitely tell me to go get that dick because I deserve it.” You pat yourself on the back and wince slightly when you smell the telltale signs of Chanmi’s poop permeating the air.

“Say … would Yoongi mind having Chanmi over your place for the weekend?” Jin recognizes the devious expression you have on your face and knows that there’s no way out of it.

“I don’t have a choice do I?” Jin sighs.

You shake your head.

“Nope. Cause’ I texted Yoongi yesterday and said he totally wants to see his niece. The baby bag is all ready to go and it’s in the nursery.” You cock your thumb to the room down the hallway and Jin thinks to himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t have introduced you to his brother at all seven years back.

“It’s weird without her …” Namjoon frowns as the two of you stand in the nursery as if you were mourning the loss of your child. It felt a lot like it, though.

The two of you never spent more than a few hours away from Chanmi ever since she was born and it felt weird to not smell her vomit from the kitchen or hear her giggles as you cooked dinner. You missed Namjoon and the spark you had in the first years of your relationship but you also felt a little empty without Chanmi’s presence with you.

“I miss her.” You whine into Namjoon’s chest and he clutches you tightly as if to say that he mirrored your sentiment.

“Should we call them?” You look up at him with wide eyes and he smoothes the frown lines on your forehead and chuckles, offering a gentle kiss to your temples.

“We called fifteen minutes ago, remember?” He chides you gently.

You huff, “I just … it’s so quiet. Where are my baby babbles?” You pout.

Namjoon sighs and rubs his thumb comfortingly on your arm when you look around at the purple nursery with reminders of your daughter that wasn’t currently with you.

“Let’s enjoy what we have, okay love?” Namjoon offers, “I miss Chanmi too but I miss this too.”

You smile at him the way he first fell in love with you years ago and leans down to place a peck onto your lips.

“I miss having you all to myself.” He whispers against your lips and you shiver at the way his broadness is clouding all your senses.

“You always have me Joon.” You tell him in a tone as soft as his.

His chest rumbles when he laughs and you feel so warm in the comfort of your husband's arms and you felt it too. Besides the physical aspect of having sex with him, you missed holding him like this without a care in the world. Most of your cuddle sessions were left to the nights you slept next to each other in bed because the two of you were either exhausted with work or trying to care for Chanmi. It’s been a long time since you could just feel Namjoon’s presence with you.

“Besides … we can finally, you know …” He mumbles shyly into your hair and the devil horns that you hide most of the time reappear.

“What, Joon?” You smirk up at him, hands trailing slowly down his chest.

Your husband was so big that every room he walked into he basically commanded the attention of every single person that would come across him. That’s what happens when you’re six foot and broad like him. But you loved the fact that you were the only one that got to see the much softer side to him that he didn’t just show anyone. The fact that he was the CEO of his own company made his persona ever more intimidating than he actually was but you knew he was a huge softie on the inside.

The two of you were very different in many senses. From your personalities to the way you approached conflict. Namjoon was very diplomatic but you were anything but. He was truly the most empathetic and understanding person you’ve met in your entire life and you’ve seen a total of ten therapists in your teenage years. Namjoon was the balance that levelled your temper and uninhibited tendencies to always be the loudest person in every room. With every time you snarked at someone who pushed your buttons came Namjoon that placed a gentle hand on your back with a soft whisper of comfort.

In fact, most people thought the two of you would have never lasted. You heard those mean girls in college that made petty bets on the fact that you’d probably end up leaving him because you were too much of a bitch to deal with someone as kind as Namjoon. You remembered most of your fights being about your insecurities and how you always thought that Namjoon deserved better and with him telling you that you were the one for him.

Looking back, you laugh because the two of you were theoretically horrible for each other but exactly what the other needed. Namjoon needed someone free-spirited enough to manage his meticulous tendencies and you needed someone willing to see you for more than your erratic behaviour.

“What’s that pretty head of yours thinking about?” Namjoon hums when he realises you’re not paying attention to him anymore. He clasps your hands together to bring back your attention to him as you look up at him with eyes so full of love.

“Just reminiscing on the old days.” You tell him and he snorts.

“You say that as if we’re ancient.”

“You’re not fooling anyone. I heard your joints cracking when you bent down to pick up the strands of hair on the floor.” You tease.

“And who’s fault is it that I’m constantly bending over to pick up strands of hair because she sheds like a cat?” He retorts playfully.

“We’re both old.” You pout, playing with his fingers and admiring the glimmer of his wedding ring. You can’t believe you bagged a man like Namjoon.

“I still got it, though.” He adds thoughtfully and you raise an eye at his comment.

“Got what?”

“My game.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you burst out laughing because it was so on-brand for Namjoon to make a comment like that but blush when you got a little more touchy-feely with him when he least expected it.

“How about you show me then?” You whisper as you turn around to press yourself against his chest, ensuring that your cleavage was on full show to his line of vision when he looks down at you.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your tits after the pregnancy?” He tells you breathily and you snort.

“So you didn’t like my tits before I gave birth to your child?”

He rolls his eyes and reaches his hands below your thighs to lift you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The way he could effortlessly carry you and lift you up always made your heart and nether regions flutter because he was so big that he basically towered over you. Especially when he became a dad it was like his hot factor exploded exponentially. He basically became the epitome of a dilf.

“You and your mouth,” He tsks as he carries you out of the nursery and into your bedroom, “I just may need to shut you up.”

You whine into his chest before he tosses you down onto your mattress as he towers over you, looking over your body like you were the finest piece of art he’s ever seen. Namjoon always had ways to make you feel like a million bucks even though you were in an old camisole and your old college varsity sweatpants.

“Why don’t you do it then?” You tease back.

You were different from the women that Namjoon has been with prior to your seven-year-long relationship as most of them were pliant and quiet, and took whatever he gave to them. Don’t get him wrong, he loved playing the dominant character in bed but he also needed a brat to push his buttons and it was exactly what you were. Even if the two of you were so fundamentally different in personalities, the two of you were definitely sexually compatible.

“Flip over.” He demands and you whine before reluctantly turning over.

“I want to see you.” You whine petulantly.

You feel him rather than have him verbally respond to you because he delivers a tight slap to your ass as you gasp at the impact. He rubs his hands soothingly over your butt cheeks and squeezes them as he leans over your body, crowding your back with his body heat.

“Don’t be a brat ___.” He sneers into your ear and the moan is stuck on your throat when you feel him drag his hands all over your body until it reaches under your body to reach for your tits.

“Fuck. I love your tits.” He groans.

Namjoon’s hands immediately trail down your body until they reach the hem of your shorts and you wiggle your ass back at him teasingly. You hear him growl and you always knew that Namjoon was an ass man and your ass made him weak.

“Need I remind you that you’re in no position to tease, sweetheart?” He whispers into your ear and you feel the goosebumps erupt on the surface of your skin.

“Fuck. Please—Joon, touch me.” You gasp as you feel him pull down your shorts to be greeted with a cheeky pair of panties that left little to imagine of what hides underneath. Your husband had the talent of getting you obscenely wet without doing much and it’s proven again when you feel the uncomfortable ache between your legs as he flips your body over once again to get a good glimpse of your heaving body, as well as the stain on your panties.

His knuckles trace the inner side of your thigh carefully as he avoids the place you need him the most while you feel more wetness pool at your entrance. You’ve been deprived of his touch for way too long and that caused your sensitive reactions to anything that he did. You missed his fingers so much and having him so close yet so far away from your pussy was destroying your restraint.

“Namjoon p-please!” You cry when he finally cups your mound with his large palm.

He digs the heel of his palm straight into your clit as you arch your back and let out a low moan.

“So wet baby and I’ve barely done anything.” He taunts you with the low baritone of his voice.

“You make me so wet Joonie.” You pant when you feel him grind his palm into your clit some more, providing the satisfying friction that you’ve been craving.

The feeling doesn’t last long because he’s hastily removing your panties from your legs and tosses them somewhere over his shoulder. His face is directly in front of your pussy and you can’t help but feel flustered at the proximity of his breath to your hole. You’ve done this a million times before but the familiarity is slightly lost due to the time between the last and the present.

“Where’s the brat that couldn’t shut her mouth before, hm?” He mumbles and you feel every breath against your pussy. You squirm and feel his large hands wrap around your thighs, locking you into position so you wouldn’t be able to move.

“It’s just been so—ah—long,” You tell him breathily.

“Too long. Missed this pussy.” He says as a parting gift before he dives straight into your clit and begins to lap rounds over the hardened bud. You let out a high pitched moan at the pleasure he was providing you with just his tongue alone, and the way that he knew just where to focus on your clit with tense figure-eights.

“Ah—ah, fuck—Joon!” You groan as your hands wrap around his hair to tug at it. You feel him moan against your pussy, which sends vibrations up to your core and causes more wetness to pool at your centre.

Namjoon is relentless when he digs his hands harder into the meat of your thighs to prevent you from moving too much as he continues to suction on your clit, focusing his attention on it as much as he could. After years of being together, he just knew what you loved and this was it.

You liked it messy. Wet and fast, and Namjoon always gave it to you good. He pulls away momentarily so he could look up at you with a hooded gaze and you let out a high pitched whine when you see the glistening of his chin all the way up to his nose with the signs of your wetness staining him. His fingers run up your thighs teasingly and you shift under his ministrations only for him to smack your right thigh harshly.

“If you move you don’t get to cum.” He threatens you and you immediately still your body with the impossible threat.

You feel his fingers run up and down on your slit as he gathers all your wetness into one place, hovering slightly over your clit. You have to keep your whine to a minimum because Namjoon got real mean when he wanted to. But he was a good lover—so good.

Your hole is throbbing with a need to be filled, and your husband picks up on that immediately as he prods your entrance with the tip of his index finger. You attempt to grind down on him as you make eye contact with the dark eyes that threaten to take away your orgasm.

“I said. Don’t. Move.” He reminds you.

You whimper in silence as he teases your hole a little more before he decides to return home into the warmth of your walls. The moment that barrier was broken, you feel him go straight for the hook as he reaches his index finger all the way up until his knuckles. You hear Namjoon hiss under his breath as he begins prodding your walls until he finds—

“Fuck—there, Joon—ah!” You gasp, head tilting backwards when your husband finds your g-spot.

Namjoon smirks to himself and slides another finger in to hook them upwards into your g-spot, unmoving as he stills himself against the area; causing pure, unaltered pleasured to run through your veins. You’re vibrating and twitching all at once because you can’t control the involuntary response that comes with your husband's demon fingers that are causing every possible pleasurable feeling to run through your system.

You can’t keep the moan to yourself either as Namjoon looks at you with awe, but you miss it because your eyes are too busy being rolled to the back of your head at the way Namjoon skilfully thrusts into your pussy.

“H-Harder, p-please Joon—wanna cum so bad.” You moan and run your fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to your mound.

He lowly chuckles and shakes his head at your sex drive. And the next thing he does next nearly makes you cum on the spot.

The way he gathers his spit at the back of his throat was borderline pornographic as you see the way his throat revs up. He drops the glob of spit directly onto your clit and uses the hand that wasn’t in your pussy to spread the lubricant all over your slit. He purposefully grazes your clit but doesn’t apply enough pressure to make your head spin, but just enough for you to whine in want.

“Your pussy is so pretty love.” He coos, leaning into your mound to deliver kitten-licks to your clit, and the warmth of his tongue with the added addition of his fingers feels all too much.

“J-Joon!” You gasp when you feel him thrust his fingers rapidly in and out of your pussy that your body hitched up the surface of the bed. Every thrust was accompanied by the direct assault of his tongue on your clit as he presses down on the hardened bud with the purpose to drive you closer to your orgasm.

You were painfully close, and the precision of his fingers at your g-spot allows you to revel in the way the coil in your body is ready to snap, so close to release. Namjoon leans down so that his head is where you love him the most, between your thighs as he scores the final goal and presses his tongue against your clit.

“Oh my god Joon—fuck—s-so good—I’m gonna cum!” Your back arches off the bed uselessly because of the way that Namjoon uses his other hand to pin you down, arms wrapped tightly around your stomach.

“Come for me pretty girl.” He coos against your clit and the vibrations is what sends you over the edge.

He fucks his fingers into you as you orgasm, kitten licking your clit with just enough pressure for you to whine as you buck your hips up into his mouth involuntarily.

“Fuck. Baby—hurts.” You whine, pushing his head away from your pussy when the overstimulation gets to you.

Namjoon places one last teasing peck on your clit, which causes you to twitch and pinch his neck as he chuckles, dragging his hand up your body to bring you closer to him.

“Still got it, hm?” He whispers against the column of your neck as you roll your eyes.

“Just kiss me you fool.” You pull him in for a kiss, and your tongue immediately finds its place home in Namjoon’s mouth.

It’s probably because it’s been so long since the two of you could feel each other like this, without any rush to get it over with but with the freedom to enjoy each other’s bodies as much as you’d like. Namjoon’s hands were the truth of that as he trails his arms down the sides of your waist and tugs you closer to him by your hips until he reaches for the hem of your camisole to tug it off your body.

He grabs the mounds of flesh in his hands and squeezes them hard enough to cause another gush of wetness to drip down the side of your thighs and onto his sweatpants. Besides the fact that he delivered a mind-blowing orgasm to you, the stained wetness of his sweatpants from his pre-cum and your slick is enough for you to push him down onto the bed.

“I’m gonna suck your cock.” You kiss him on the lips one last time before you’re leaning down to palm him over his sweatpants.

He hisses above you and grabs the back of your neck lovingly that it has you snorting.

“You know if you’re laughing at my dick my feelings are going to be very hurt,” Namjoon says from above you.

“It’s just …” You shake your head and giggle as you clench your fist around the outline of Namjoon’s cock as he lets out a low breath of approval at your action.

“You used to shove my head onto your cock the moment I reached your pants and now you’re so soft.” You tease.

You hear his breath hitch and the grip on your neck tighten at your taunting words. The excitement already pooling in your stomach at the roughness that would ensue from your husband.

“Me? Soft? Is that what you want baby?” His tone is warning and you know he’s serious.

You shake your head as you look up at him with innocent eyes, a stark contrast to the hand that continues to fondle his balls over his sweatpants.

“Don’t be a bitch and take my cock out.” He sneers, and you smile to yourself cheekily—knowing you hit a sore spot.

You happily oblige as you pull Namjoon’s sweats down to be greeted with your husbands cock. The visual itself has your pussy throbbing, and every time you’re faced with it, you always burn with the prospect of his thick cock pounding into your pussy.

“Now suck it like a good girl.” He guides your head towards his dick but you’re proactive enough to fully start licking at his tip, tongue teasing his slit as you hear him let out a low groan.

Your eyes are locked on his figure, as his head is thrown back. You want to grind on the sheets but you know that would delay him fucking you so you decide against it. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the visual that your husband was giving you from where you were.

Namjoon had always been handsome. But there’s something about seeing him throw his head back in pleasure because of you that has your stomach churning with pride. You’d shamelessly admit that you were more on the possessive side, purely because you knew there were many men and women out there who desired Namjoon in more ways than one; and you didn’t like sharing one bit.

You spit onto his dick as your hands worked the rest of the length that you didn’t engulf in your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks to create a suction. Your tongue begins to tease the underside of his shaft, the way he likes the most and you know he’s enjoying your focus there because the hand that grips your neck is now tightly clutching your hair in a fist.

“Fuck. That’s it, baby.” He groans.

Motivated by the praise, you sink deeper, hands resting on his thick thighs as you push yourself until your nose reaches his pelvis. You’ve taken his cock like a champion on many occasions, and you can only thank him for that like the numerous times he had to guide you down on his cock were probably the only reason why your tiny throat could welcome his thick girth.

The sounds of you chocking on his dick was a lot for Namjoon, mainly because he couldn’t get enough of his wife but also because he’s been waiting out to bust a nut down your throat—actually your pussy—so long that he can’t handle the onslaught of pleasure your mouth brings him.

“Baby—baby,” He tugs you off his cock and the redness around your cheeks with the tears that pool at your waterline is enough to make his heart soar. Even though you were nasty in bed, he loved every single part of your forwardness.

“Your mouth is amazing but I need to cum in your pussy.” He tells you.

You whine at his declaration and allow him to manhandle you until you were face down ass up, ass pressed tightly against his pelvis as you grind your wet cunt over the hardness of his dick.

“Fuck—you’re so wet, baby. You like sucking my cock?” He growls, arms reaching around your stomach to pull your body flush against his chest.

When you reach your hand to wrap around his head to balance yourself, you see a view of your bodies together in your mirror. Courtesy of when you first moved in and due to you and Namjoon’s egocentric tendencies of wanting to see you guys fucking each other.

“S-So much Joon.” You garble.

His hand reach down to cup your mound and digs his palm into your clit as you grind down against his hand. You feel him loosely trace over your clit to gather your wetness into his hand to lather it over his dick.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He whispers in your ear when he lines his cock against your entrance.

You whine, excitement erupting inside of you—until he finally slides it.

It definitely takes you by surprise because your husband was big. And the fact that you haven’t had his dick in you for months made it much more of a pleasant surprise when he bottoms out completely in one swift thrust of his hips, which causes your body to fall forward as your hands grip the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck. This tight pussy’s mine, right?” He growls.

You nod your head into the sheets as he begins with a few experimental thrusts as you adjust to the slight, yet pleasurable, sting in your lower half.

Until you squeeze his hand on your hip to give him the go, Namjoon settles for slow thrusts into your pussy, but it’s enough to prod at your pleasurable spot because not only is Namjoon smart, kind, funny, handsome and ridiculously a great father—he is phenomenal at sex. Probably why he knocked you up on the night of your honeymoon with your bundle of joy.

Namjoon begins snapping his hips into yours relentlessly like a man starved, and starved he was. He’s missed the wet heat of your pussy; and God did he love your daughter—but he missed this—your pussy.

“F-Fuuuuu—” You’re heaving.

Namjoon continues to thrust into your pussy, angling his hips upwards so that he’d reach places deeper than ever as your eyes roll to the back of your heart in pleasure.

“Fuck—this—tight—pussy—” His words follow the sharpness of his thrusts and you don’t even know where to grab because all your sensations are heightened, especially when Namjoon reaches a hand down to your clit to begin rubbing it vigorously.

“Nam—Joon!”

You’re so wet that the squelch of his thrusts is echoed in your bedroom, and the only thing you hear besides that is your loud moans and the heavy breathing coming from Namjoon.

It’s only when he plants his knees firmly into the mattress and brings your hips to meet his thrusts is when you feel your pussy clench uncontrollably around his cock as you wail out his name.

“Fuck, baby—you’re clenching—so—hard.” He groans, pushing his hips deeper into your pussy.

“Love your cock,” You moan, “Fuck—Joon, please—fuck your cum into me.”

“Yeah?” He grits his teeth and flips your over effortlessly, dragging your leg over his shoulder as he begins pounding into you even harder as he admires the way your face contorts in pleasure.

“Yeah.” You nod your head like a sex-crazed maniac because your husband was just too good with his hips.

“Gonna give you another baby.” He whispers when he leans down into your face as your eyes widen at his declaration. Your pussy reacts too, gushing out even more wetness as it becomes tighter around Namjoon’s cock.

“Fuck. You like that idea? A sibling for Chan’?” He grinds his pelvis into your clit as his words spur your second orgasm for the night on.

“No shit?” You gasp when he revs up his spit in the back of his throat, looking at your mouth invitingly.

“Yeah,” He says breathlessly, and you open your mouth to welcome his tongue when he drops the glob of spit down your throat.

You whine, feeling your orgasm coming so closely.

“Fuck Joon—I’m gonna cum.” You gasp.

You feel Namjoon’s hips stutter and you know he’s coming soon too.

“Me too baby.” He tells you while giving you the set of most adoring eyes ever. Even as he’s fucking you into the next dimension, Namjoon makes you feel so utterly loved and whole that you can’t imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else.

He snaps his hips the hardest he’s ever done throughout the entire night, and you feel your pussy throb so much; signalling to you and Namjoon that your release was right there.

“Baby—I’m gonna—I’m gonna c-cum,” You grab onto his shoulder to pull him closer to you.

He welcomes it and leaves open mouth kisses onto your mouth as he fucks into you like a mad man.

“Cum.”

That’s all it takes for you to reach an explosive orgasm, one that quite literally causes you to blank out for a second because while Namjoon’s hot cum spurts into your pussy short after you came, he feels your body go limp in his embrace; causing his eyes to widen.

Only until you’re blinking up at him dazedly is when he holds you to his chest, as you feel his chest rumble when he chuckles.

“Baby … I thought you died.” He cards a hand through your hair and you smile at him, stupidly in love.

“If I die because of your dick I’d be happy.” You grin at him cutely. And he scoffs at the way you look so cute after you’ve been fucked to hell and back.

“My horny little monster,” He flicks your forehead as you bring him close to your chest, his dick still settled inside of you. But there was a sort of intimacy that you couldn’t quite put words to, but welcomed the gesture nevertheless.

“Were you serious?” You ask after a while of sharing a few intimate pecks to each others’ lips.

He finally pulls out to roll on his side as he reaches over to pull your close to his chest. He raises an eyebrow at your expression when you feel his cum leak out of you.

“God you really didn’t jack off recently, did you?” You ask.

He pecks you on the nose as he quickly tugs clean boxers over his legs and disappears into your on-suite. You sigh to yourself dreamily, thinking of how lucky you were to be with someone as loving and compassionate as Namjoon was.

You weren’t necessarily unlucky when it came to your relationships prior to him, but there would always be dealbreakers that caused splits to be more bitter than neutral. Namjoon was the only man in your life that you could speak to without fearing any judgement from because he wasn’t like that. He knew how to make you feel wanted and also how to want yourself, all while being your best friend and partner.

When he returns, he returns with a damp cloth and immediately begins cleaning up the mess between your thighs, even as he cheekily mentions how there was more from where that came from as you slap him on the shoulder.

Once he ensures he’s satisfied, he tosses the cloth into the laundry basket and grabs a big t-shirt of his to slip it over your body. You hum in satisfaction as his scent overwhelms you, even more so when he tugs you close to his body and he looks at you with all the love in the world.

“You asked if I was serious earlier?” He repeats your question and you nod your head looking up at him.

“Yeah.” You let out a breathy smile when he leans down to pull your face towards his own as you admire all the freckles and pores on his skin, fingers tracing loosely over the wrinkles that come with age.

“I know it’s sudden but … I’ve been thinking about our family and—I want our family to become bigger.” He tells you like it’s a secret. You know he’s been mulling over it for quite a while because he looks a little unsure of himself, but all you can do is smile widely at him.

“Really?” You ask, playing with the hair on the back of his neck when you feel his fingers trace over the skin on your back.

“Of course. I love you, and I love Chanmi. I’ve always wanted kids and you brought the best gift in my life to me and … I can’t explain how happy I am when I’m with the two of you.” He smiles at you gently.

You don’t know if it’s because he just fucked you so good, or was it because you were lovesick, but your eyes water because Namjoon was Namjoon.

“But—if you’re not ready then I understand and we can—”

“Yes.” You interrupt him.

His eyes widen as you see the excitement begin to pour into his irises.

“Wait—really?” He asks innocently.

You nod your head and kiss him on the lips softly, no rush as he returns the gesture, holding you close onto his chest where you feel the best in his arms.

“Yes really. I want what you want. And I think it’s about time Chanmi gets a sibling, no?” You tease.

He groans like you’re unreal as he buries his head into the crook of your neck as you caress him gently. Namjoon was really just like an oversized baby and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“When?” He asks.

You tease your fingertips down to his chest and offer him a knowing look.

“Now?” You feign indifference but you can see the wide grin he sports on his face.

“Fuck. Don’t say that. I think my dick is going to fall off at how hard I fucked you just now,” He whined.

“You’re getting old,” You massage his shoulders as he sighs.

“I am …” He acknowledges, “But we’ll grow old together, right?”

The prospect of a future of unknowns with Namjoon only makes your heart bloom. You nod your head, not another word need to be uttered as he holds you in his arms, excited for what’s to come.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Misplaced Mail - Part 2

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Mini-Series

How does Rowan respond to Aelin's comment about her using him instead of the new toy she purchased?

Fic Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Part 1 | Part 3

Warnings: Language, NSFW

4644 words

*******

Aelin’s heart pounded furiously as she leaned back against her door. The smirk she’d plastered on slipped and she stared at nothing as she heard her last words echo in her head.

You know, maybe you could help me out sometime and I wouldn’t need this.

‘You’ being Rowan, her insanely hot neighbor who opened ‘this’, the vibrator she’d ordered.

Shit. Fuck. What did she just do?

Realizing she was still holding the toy, she tossed the box across the living room and dropped her head in her hands, groaning.

Oh, Gods, she would never be able to look Rowan in the eyes again. Whatever tentative friendship they had was over; she’d thrown a dildo-shaped wrecking ball into their barely-there relationship. It didn’t matter anymore that the infatuation she had with him had slowly grown into a full-blown crush—maybe something even more—but now, there was no way he would ever speak to her again.

Shit.

And regardless of her crush, she was still his neighbor. They’d have to see each other on a regular basis and, fuck, she was going to have to move.

Before she could keep spiraling, a loud, incessant banging thundered from the other side of her door, startling her enough to jump away from the reverberations at her back.

Aelin stared wide-eyed as the knocking continued.

Obviously, it was Rowan knocking, there’s no reason why it would be anyone else, but why the hell was he here? Was he going to make fun of her? No, he wasn’t mean, and if the last few minutes were any indication he was far too embarrassed at the whole thing.

The knocking kept coming and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and slowly walked back to her door. She stood on her toes to peer out the peephole and froze.

It was Rowan and he was staring directly at her.

He didn’t look like he did a minute ago all red-faced and fumbling for words, he looked determined. But it was hard to tell for sure through the distorted glass. What she was sure of, though, was that he was looking right at her.

Aelin ducked down and took another breath. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Normally she was cool and confident, but right now she felt like butterflies were having a circus in her stomach.

Get yourself together, Aelin.

She schooled her features and opened the door.

Rowan’s eyes connected with her’s the moment the door swung open to reveal his towering body with one arm resting on the door frame above his head.

She didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at her. She didn’t think any coherent words would come out if she tried, not given the way his eyes were filled with so much heat it almost knocked her back a step. This wasn’t the same embarrassed Rowan who moments before was blushing and stuttering. This also wasn’t the reserved and collected Rowan who she’d had conversations with and who she’d developed a massive crush on. No, this Rowan was something else.

Gone was the pink tinting his face and ears, now replaced by a predatory focus and undisguised desire. He was looking at her like she was an oasis and he was a man dying of thirst. And not a small part of her was thrilled by it.

A slow smirk spread across his face at her silence, but not willing to be outdone, Aelin drew up the courage that allowed her to make her earlier comment.

She arched a golden brow and asked, “Yes, Whitethorn?” Internally, she praised herself for how calm her voice sounded.

The smirk grew as he slowly and deliberately let his eyes drop to survey her from head to toe and back again. She felt every nerve in her body light up as if his gaze was a tangible thing washing over her.

When his eyes met her once more, he took a step forward so that he was mere inches away from her. Aelin could feel the heat of him and barely resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

She sucked in a sharp breath as he ducked his head low, his breath caressing her ear as he said in a low voice, “If you really want my help, then call me by my first name.”

She couldn’t stop the shiver that coursed through her as his words hit their mark.

Rowan didn’t move any closer, but she could feel his breath on her skin. He was waiting for her answer before making another move, she realized—trying to see if she was serious or not. When her silence stretched out a few seconds longer, he stepped back. Aelin met his eyes and even though she could see uncertainty there, she knew her own had turned molten at his words. She didn’t think her fantasies about her neighbor would’ve ever come true, but maybe today she’d be proven delightfully wrong.

Aelin licked her lips and it was her turn to smirk as she noticed his attention zero in on the movement. His eyes snapped back to hers and she knew he understood the look of desire and lust she was giving him. A moment passed and she could’ve sworn something electric passed between them.

“Rowan.”

It was as if his name on her lips was permission and a summons because the next moment had her lips crashing against his.

Aelin felt like she’d been struck by lightning. She suddenly couldn’t get enough, and neither could Rowan, it seemed.

Her hands tangled in his hair as his hands gripped her hips, each trying to pull the other closer. Their mouths moved in synch and Aelin couldn’t get enough of the man whose hands now roamed over her body. One of his large hands drifted down to squeeze her ass and she moaned into his mouth at the feeling of it.

Rowan walked farther into her apartment, never taking his mouth from hers, and guided her backward as he slammed the door behind him. She heard the lock click and then both his hands were back on her body. He kept backing her up until she felt the cool marble of the kitchen island at her back causing her to arch further into Rowan. His low growl as her breasts pushed more firmly against him sent hot anticipation coursing through her.

Their lips kept moving together while their tongues tried to savor the taste of the other.

His hands slipped down to the backs of her things, just below her ass, and easily lifted her up onto the counter. Aelin loosed a low moan at the change in position and the thought of all the things those strong arms could do to her. She ran her hand down his muscled biceps and forearms...yes, there were lots of things he could do to her.

She brought one hand to his hair as the other clawed down his back. He made another sound low in his chest and spread her legs so he could step further into her space. His hands on her waist trailed up to graze the undersides of her breasts and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Desperate for air, Aelin broke the kiss and tilted her head back as Rowan lost no time in connecting his mouth to her jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck.

Aelin was on fire. She’d fantasized about this more times than she could count and part of her couldn’t believe it was actually happening. But as Rowan’s mouth continued to kiss and suck along her skin, and as he pressed his hips into hers allowing her to feel his hardness against her body, she knew it was real because her fantasies paled in comparison to this.

She moaned loudly when he found the spot at the base of her neck and collarbone. She felt him smirk against her skin and grip her waist tighter as he sucked a bruise to the sensitive area.

“Rowan,” she gasped and slid her hands across his broad chest and down his arms. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, forcing him off her neck long enough to take the shirt off and throw it across the room. Then she pulled his face back to hers and kissed him deeply. It only lasted a moment before he was gripping the hem of her sweater and pulling it over her head.

Rowan’s eyes turned near-feral and Aelin had never felt more thankful to not be wearing a bra.

Almost reverently, Rowan murmured, “Beautiful,” his eyes trailing over every inch of exposed skin, “so beautiful.”

The rush of heat the pooled in her core didn’t go unnoticed.

Aelin arched her back and then Rowan was on her. She dropped her head back and moaned as she tried to stay coherent through the rush of sensations. Rowan’s tongue and lips took one peaked nipple and were doing wonders at her breast while his thumb and forefinger rolled and squeezed the other one. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him to her.

Rowan bit down on her hardened peak the same moment he pinched the other and she thought she might explode just from that. She needed more. He lifted his head and began the same ministrations with the opposite breasts.

Aelin couldn’t stop her whimpers as he worked her oversensitive flesh. Her fingers tightened in his hair as his free hand splayed on her thigh, his thumb rubbing slow circles closer and closer to where she needed him most.

“Oh Gods, Rowan,” she gasped, near overloaded with pleasure and anticipation.

He released her breast with an audible ’pop’ and lifted his face to hers, smirking at her heavy breathing and lust-clouded eyes.

Aelin noticed something shift in his face and he let his smirk drop as he leaned his forehead against hers. He was still watching her with desire and need, but there was something more, too—something deeper.

“Aelin,” he rasped, and his breath fanned across her face. He raised a hand to gently cup her cheek, the gesture infinitely more tender than their actions moments before. She leaned into the touch and that seemed to reassure him as he said, “I’ve wanted this for a long time. This. You.”

Her heart stuttered as he spoke. What? He’d wanted her for a long time? She’d wanted him. Had they both just been too afraid to tell each other? Aelin searched his face for answers. He meant it. She could hear the sincerity of his voice and see it in his eyes. She listened as he kept talking while lightly stroking her cheek.

"You're funny and clever and beautiful. When we talk you get on my last nerve, but somehow those conversations are the part of my day I look forward to most."

She huffed a laugh, but Rowan said, "You're the part of my day I look forward to most."

Her throat felt tight. At a momentary loss for words, Aelin kissed Rowan softly, but with all the happiness she felt at his admission.

When she pulled away, he was still watching her. “Rowan,” his eyes shuttered as she murmured his name, “I want this, too. You, too. I have for a while.” And it was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders as she spoke the words.

Aelin’s heart leaped as a bright smile crossed Rowan’s face, and she couldn’t help but mirror it as she thought about how a mere mistake with their mail led to this. How her gorgeous neighbor had opened her vibrator and became so endearingly flustered that she made a joke about using him instead of the toy. How he’d seen the joke as what it actually was: an invitation. How they had just admitted to liking each other—apparently having done so for longer than either of them knew. And how they were both still half-naked, disheveled, and breathing hard in her kitchen.

He kissed her again and this time it was closer to the heat they shared before, but not quite. Aelin needed more, though, so she said with her normal amount of swagger, “You know, If you’d said something to me sooner,” she paused as he trailed kisses down her neck, “then I wouldn’t have had to spend so much money.”

“What?” He detached his mouth and looked at her in confusion as his hands migrated to her thighs.

She smirked, “You have no idea how much I spent on batteries ever since you moved across the hall.”

His eyes darkened and he growled before threading his fingers in her hair and tilting her head back so he could devour her mouth. This time, it was all tongues and teeth. Her hands clawed down his back as she bit his lower lip and tugged on it before slanting her mouth back over his.

Rowan stepped as close as he could get to her body and moved his hand up to the apex of her thighs. She wanted to sigh in relief as his thumb finally—finally—brushed across her clit. She didn’t sigh, but she did moan when he started rubbing small circles on her, the fabric of her leggings and panties making the fiction deliciously sweet.

Aelin could hardly think straight, but she did have the coherency to realize that Rowan absolutely knew how to multitask. One of his thumbs was rubbing circles on her clit while the rest of his hand gripped her thigh with a bruising intensity; his other hand was up massaging her breast, occasionally running that thumb over her nipple, keeping it peaked; not to mention the luxurious way his tongue was moving with hers.

Without warning, he moved his hands to the backs of her thigh and before she could protest the loss of his fingers, he was lifting her from the counter. Aelin wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed a series of marks along his jaw. She thought he’d carry her into her bedroom, but instead, he walked to the couch, apparently deciding the bedroom was too far away.

Rowan sat down on the cushion, keeping Aelin wrapped around him so she had a leg on either side of his thighs, effectively straddling him. Pressed together, they both moaned at the sensation of her nipples rubbing against his hard chest.

Aelin wrapped her arms around his neck and started rolling her hips, desperately trying to get some friction to relieve the ache between her legs. She could feel him, hard and ready, straining in his pants, and Aelin didn’t hold back her groan as she shifted her hips and felt the shape of him press against her core.

Rowan’s hands instantly flew to her hips to grip them and help move her along his hard length. He worked her over his lap a few more times before sliding his handing below the waistband of her leggings to cup her ass in his hands. When he squeezed, she let out a sound halfway between a moan and a whimper.

“Rowan, I need you.” She didn’t think she could wait much longer.

He nipped at her lip and his hands squeezed again before gripping her leggings and panties in a single hold and pulling them down, lifting each of her legs to get them off as quickly as he could.

His hands gripped her hips again but instead of staying there, he used his hold on her to lift her so she was only straddling one thigh. Almost unconsciously, her hips started rolling over his leg. She threw her head back as her naked core ground down against the rough fabric of his pants.

“That’s it.” Rowan’s guttural praise sent another wave of heat coursing through her and she struggled to keep her breathing steady as she rolled her hips faster. “Ride my thigh, baby.” His hands roughly grabbed her hips and moved her faster.

Gods, his voice was almost enough to send her over the edge.

“Rowan, yes,” her grip on his shoulders was so tight she was sure it would leave marks, but she didn’t care, not as the coil in the pit of her stomach tightened with every movement of her body.

He kept one hand on her hip and moved the other so he could rub her clit again. It was almost too much but in the best possible way. She moved faster, pushing down harder against his thigh in a desperate search for more friction. Rowan’s fingers rubbed harder and she screwed her eyes shut as the pressure inside of her built and built.

“You’re so beautiful,” He kissed her neck, “Look at you,” his mouth was right next to her ear sending shivers straight to her core. “Gods, I’ll never get tired of the face you make when you moan my name.”

She was close and his words were quickly sending her to the edge.

“That face, Aelin, is what I’ll see every time I close my eyes.”

She couldn’t respond, just moved her hips faster.

“And all those little sounds coming out of that wicked mouth,” he chuckled darkly, urging her hips to keep moving. “I have all kinds of plans for that mouth.”

She was so close, she could almost taste it—

He sucked on her earlobe, then said in that low purr, “Come for me. I want to watch you come undone knowing exactly who got you there. Come. For. Me.”

Aelin shattered.

All the tension exploded, her head fell into the crook of Rowan’s neck and she opened her mouth in a silent moan. Her legs shook as her orgasm crashed through her in wave after wave of cascading pleasure.

Rowan kept her moving, his hands never leaving her hips. He slowly brought her down from her high, continuing to mutter praises in her ear.

She smiled against his skin; her mind was fuzzy and her body aching in the most amazing way.

Aelin pressed languid kisses along Rowan’s neck. She shifted her hips and could still feel his erection pressing forcefully against his pants. At the movement, he cursed and stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her pressed against him as he hastily walked them into her bedroom.

Aelin sucked a particularly heavy bruise into the side of Rowan’s neck and decided that the low moan it drew from the back of his throat was one of the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard.

“Mm, Rowan,” She struggled to get out words while attaching her mouth to his skin, “I need you. Now. Please.” The last word she said was through a whimper as his fingers found her clit again before slowly sliding down to run through the juices of her dripping core.

He was still holding her up with one arm as he brought the other to his mouth to suck her juices from his fingers, keeping his eyes locked with hers and moaned at the taste of her.

She was panting; Aelin had never been so turned on. And she needed him—now.

“Ro, please” she tried to squirm in his grip.

She didn’t know if it was the desperation in her voice or the name she used for him, but suddenly she was thrown backward onto the bed, landing with a soft bounce. She laid there, soaking in the image of Rowan prowling towards her while unbuckling his belt and removing his pants and boxers. His hungry eyes didn’t leave her face as hers unabashedly went straight towards his cock as it sprung free. Her mouth watered. He was as beautiful as she imagined, and as deliciously big as he felt when she was grinding down on him.

If hadn’t needed him before—which she absolutely did—she would be desperate now—which she was.

And then Rowan was on top of her with an arm on either side of her body. He paused a moment to look at her sprawled beneath him and slowly dragged a hand down her neck, the valley of her breast, her stomach, and finally down to cup her between the legs. He smirked.

He was about to say something else, but she cut him off, “Later.” She insisted, knowing she was plenty prepared for him, “I need you inside me.” Aelin pulled him down so his full weight was pressing her into the mattress. “Side table, top drawer—condom.”

Rowan blindly reached out and grabbed the small foil from where she said it’d be. He ripped it open and rolled it on.

Aelin raised herself on her elbows and bit her lip as he stepped to the edge of the bed. He smirked again and wrapped his hands around her ankles, pulling her to the edge of the bed with a squeal. Rowan chuckled at the sound and smiled down at her.

She grinned back and relished in the feeling that this wasn’t awkward. As she looked at Rowan smiling above her, she knew it was perfect.

He leaned down to kiss her, deep and passionate, then pulled away and held her gaze.

"Aelin." His hands grazed her body. "Do you want me to fuck you?" She shivered as he held her gaze intently. "Do you want me to make you feel good?"

“Yes. Please, Rowan.”

He pulled her body even closer to his and lined his cock up with her entrance. He didn’t immediately push in, instead, he slid the shaft through her folds, coating himself in her slick. When his tip brushed against her clit, she let out a moan.

“No more teasing, I need—”

And then he was sliding into her. And in. And in. Her back arched and she cursed as Rowan bottomed out.

“Fuck, Aelin,” Rowan hissed from between his teeth, his brow furrowing in concentration to stay still while she adjusted. “You’re so tight. You feel so good.”

She couldn’t form words, but she lifted her hips in silent request and Rowan took that as permission to let go

He grabbed one of her legs, resting it on his shoulder, and used his hand to hold her other leg wide open. He didn’t hold back, he thrust into her with everything he had. It was as if the months of silent desire all crashed into him now and he had to show her, physically, just how much he wanted—needed—her.

He shifted the angle of her hips and then he was hitting the spot deep inside that sent her head falling back and a string of curses flying out of her mouth.

“Oh! Fuck, Rowan, yes!” She met his eyes and he turned his face to kiss her calf still resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t slow his pace as he grinned down at her, “There you are. I thought you’d gone mute on me.” She didn’t correct him by saying she’d been anything but mute. Speechless, maybe. Mute? Absolutely not.

Rowan was relentless, and she loved it. His hips kept snapping into hers sending shockwaves of pleasure surging through her. Already, she could feel another orgasm building.

One moment he was fucking her, the next he pulled fully out, gripped her hips, and flipped her over so she was on her hands and knees. Rowan pulled her hips back to his and then he was spearing into her again. Aelin cried out with every thrust, pushing her hips back to meet Rowan’s movements.

Then he slowed down to a leisurely pace and she tried to get him to speed up again but then she felt him lean over her so his chest was pressed flush to her back. She shivered as he spoke into her ear.

“Are you close, Aelin?” His voice was rough from exertion. He was still moving in her but not nearly as forcefully as needed him to be. She wanted him to unleash himself, to fuck her so she couldn’t walk straight.

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, fuck me, Rowan,” she gasped out.

He huffed a dark laugh and moved one hand down her front to tweak her nipple and causing her to cry out. Then his hand drifted further until he was rubbing her clit in harsh bursts. He stood back up, this time pulling her with him, so she was kneeling on the bed with him standing behind her.

She could feel herself getting there.

“You can do it. I know you can, baby.” He picked up his pace and rubbed his fingers in time with his thrusts.

Oh gods, oh gods, it was too much. It was so good.

“Look at me.” Rowan grabbed her chin and tilted her head to the side to plant a wet kiss to her mouth. She wrapped her arms around the back of his head to keep herself in place as he continued to fuck her into oblivion. “I want you to look at me when you come. I want you to know who made you feel this good.”

“You,” Aelin gasped, “You, Rowan. Gods, You.”

She felt her orgasm climb higher. She was right on the cusp of something incredible and she wanted more, needed more.

As if he could sense that she was right on the edge, he moved the hand that was gripping her hip down to her entrance where he kept thrusting relentlessly.

“You’re doing so well.” Another kiss to her neck. “I’m going to help you do even better.”

His middle finger gently brushed the place where his cock was thrusting inside her and—while still using his other hand to rub her clit—pushed his finger inside her along with his cock.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder and he continued to kiss her neck, while she let out a broken moan at the added stretch as he fingered her and fucked her simultaneously.

It felt so gods damned good.

“The next time you touch yourself,” his voice sounded especially strained in her ear, but she couldn’t focus on anything beyond the sensations he was making her feel. “I want you to think of me. To remember how good I fucked you, and how hard I made you come.”

His words were her undoing.

Aelin screamed as released barreled through her. Her legs shook and it was only Rowan’s arms around her that kept her from falling on her face. She felt his thrusts falter and then he cursed as he came, filling up the condom as her walls fluttered around him.

He held her against his body until he could steadily set her down on the bed and slowly pull out of her.

She whined softly at the sudden emptiness, but a moment later Rowan was there lying on the bed next to her and pulling her into his arms.

When she opened her eyes, Rowan was already staring at her with a soft, post-sex, dazed grin.

She knew she didn’t look any less dopey with her smile.

Rowan ran a soothing hand down her arm, gently pulling her closer to him. “Are you okay?” The concern in his face made her heart flutter.

“Better than okay,” Aelin rested an arm across his chest and laid her head on his shoulder, “that was amazing.”

She could help a small giggle that escaped as Rowan grinned at her praise.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I moved in and saw you outside your door watching as I was moving boxes."

She raised a brow and smirked, “well, I’ve wanted you to do that ever since you moved in and I watched you effortlessly haul those boxes around."

He huffed a laugh and said, “Get coffee with me tomorrow.”

Aelin smiled broadly and tucked herself even closer into Rowan’s side. “It’s a date.”

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @ladygabrielli1997 @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior

[emerald-chaos]

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

[collecting-stories]

Cruel Summer - JJ Maybank

Request: hey!! could i request a fic where reader is a pogue and reader and jj have recently started a fwb relationship but they both start to fall for each other with out telling the other.  finally reader tells jj she can’t do it anymore and then a love confession please!! thank you i love your writing so much :)))

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

The first time you slept with JJ was a party at the boneyard. It was technically in the back of the Twinkie while everyone else was down the beach, three sheets to the wind. You were drunk enough to think sleeping with your best friend was a good idea but sober enough to remember the experience the next day. 

While the initial shock of knowing that you’d had sex with your best friend, possibly altering the course of your friendship in the process, wasn’t easy, it was a welcomed relief that there were no messy feelings involved. There was no denying that JJ was attractive, you were a human with a pulse after all, but you weren’t secretly harboring a massive crush on him that had led to sex. It was just a matter of timing. You were both there, both in the mood, it just sort of made sense…in a weird way that you didn’t think too hard about. 

JJ was much more laid back than you were about the entire ordeal, even if neither of you were interested in each other. “Last night was fun, we should do it again.” 

And that was how it started, really. JJ’s suggestion, observation, whatever you called it in the moment, that you keep doing the thing you had done last night. Just as friends, just for fun. You were laidback and chill, or maybe you wanted to prove you were, so you agreed. It wasn’t like you were dating at the time. It wasn’t like you wanted to either. 

Everything always felt relaxed with JJ. Whether it was because he manufactured every single moment that way or because he was just organically that laidback on a regular basis, having sex with him just to have sex felt as bizarrely normal as meeting up for a surf or lunch. 

“I can’t believe you guys are sleeping together.” While most of the pogues knew and pretended they didn’t, Sarah was unable to shake the idea. She was the least inclined for casual sex and seemed determined to prove that it was impossible. At least, between the two of you. 

“Why?” You shrugged, sucking the last remnants of your slurpee from the bottom of your cup. The two of you had met up at the corner 7-11 and were making your way slowly down the beach to meet everyone else. “I get to have sex and it’s with someone I’m comfortable with who I trust totally…that’s not weird.” 

“So there are no feelings? At all?” She asked. 

“Well yeah, he’s my best friend and I love him but not like that…I’m not in love with him.” 

The adjunct onto the end of the sentence felt clunky and awkward. When Kiara had first found out, she’d asked if you guys were dating and JJ had answered, laughing, that “you know I’d never do that to you”. It was an ongoing joke amongst the pogues, simply because everyone else had always been convinced there was something there. Despite knowing there was nothing, you couldn’t help the twist in your stomach though you chalked it up to being caught on the couch in the porch at the Chateau. 

Now you had that feeling again and it wasn’t the slurpee or the heat. 

“What if he starts dating someone else?” She kept the probe going as you crossed over some vacationing families and spotted the other pogues already set up. 

“Well, we’re not dating so it doesn’t matter.” 

Your conversation with Sarah ended then but her words didn’t leave you, like an alarm that kept going off inside your head, just when you started to ease yourself into the afternoon JJ would do something that would set off the echo and you’d feel yourself pulling back. You’d always been affectionate with each other and maybe sleeping together, being so intimate, allowed for more affection to spill over into regular hang-outs. It wasn’t something you usually worried about but suddenly it felt like the only thing you could concentrate on. 

Maybe Sarah was right. Maybe you hadn’t liked him in the beginning but over the course of things, opening yourself up to someone you trusted and felt so comfortable with had turned into something more than friendship and you were just lagging behind, refusing to see it. You weren’t the only one in the relationship though and as soon as you had settled your own feelings you began to fret over JJ’s. Had he reached the same conclusion as you? Did he feel the same way and he just wasn’t telling you? 

He’d always been pretty upfront with his feelings. JJ was the one who wanted to keep this going in the first place, not at all shy in the proposition. Knowing that, you doubted he felt anything…he would’ve told you if did. And he hadn’t, so he didn’t. 

“Hey,” the cold glass of a beer bottled was pressed against your bare shoulder blade and you arched forward suddenly, trying and failing to get away from the sensation as droplets of water rolled down your skin. When you reached for the bottle it was removed, held above your head and you realized it was JJ behind you, grinning as a droplet of perspiration fell from the bottom ring and landed on your cheek. 

“Oh my god, JJ, that’s freezing cold.” You grumbled, “what the hell?” 

“What the hell is right,” he replied, though there wasn’t any edge to his voice, he was perfectly relaxed, “what’s up with you?”

“Nothing, why?”

“Cause you’ve been sitting over here all day.” Calling the last three hours all day was a gross overstatement of time but you knew what he meant. 

“What’s the problem with that?” You were being evasive. 

“You usually sit next to me.” He pouted. “Is something wrong?” 

You bit your bottom lip, dragging your teeth over your skin until you released it before attempting what you knew was an awkward smile. You had already pre-decided JJ’s feelings for him and were avoiding him to avoid  the conversation you were bound to have when he found out you had feelings for him. JJ had been pretty clear in the beginning, he just wanted something casual, where he didn’t need to live up to anyone’s expectation. 

“No,” you shook your head, looking down toward the shoreline where your other friends were jumping waves. You’d been so lost in your head you hadn’t even noticed they left and now you were trying to tell JJ that you were fine. 

“Are you sure?” He pushed, an obvious sign that he was sure you were lying to him. 

“I don’t think we should sleep together anymore.” You got the words out as quickly as possible, letting out a quiet huff after, avoiding JJ’s eyes. “It’s just…awkward and weird now and I didn’t think it would be but it is.” 

“Oh,” JJ slipped his hat off, bending the bill in his fist as he tried to process your words, a last ditch effort to save face, “well I’ve never had anyone describe me as awkward during sex-“

“JJ,” you laughed in spite of yourself, nudging him with your elbow, “I just...” pogues never lied to each other, they were always honest, it was like the holy grail of rules amongst your friend group. “We agreed when we started this that it was no strings attached, ya know? Just two friends hooking up.”

“Yeah, so?”

You shrugged your shoulder, leaning into it as if you could burrow your head back into yourself somehow, “so...that’s not me anymore. I don’t feel like I wanna be just friends hooking up anymore. In the beginning, it was easy...but. But I really like you, like a lot. And I don’t wanna just be your friend, waiting for you to cut this off for someone else.”

There was a beat between you, when both of you were just staring straight ahead at your friends playing out by the waves. This wasn’t the light-hearted conversation that JJ had walked over here for. This felt heavy, it felt like it could change everything between the two of you, if sleeping together hadn’t already done that.  

“Maybe I want that too.” JJ finally said, adding, “No, not maybe...I do want that too.”

“What? Are you serious?” You hated sounding so surprised when you were always so sure you knew JJ better than anyone.  

“It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of this as a friends with benefits thing...I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure I ever did.” JJ replied, “good to know my undeniable charm worked on you.”

“Your undeniable charm?” You laughed, turning away from the ocean to look at him.

“How is that so hard to believe?” JJ hooked his arm around your shoulders, bringing himself a little closer to you so he could lean in, pressing his forehead to yours, “we could get outta here and celebrate?”

“Do people celebrate dating?” You asked, setting your mouth in a line and narrowing your eyes as if you were truly contemplating the question.  

“What are you celebrating?” Kiara’s voice sounded and JJ broke away in surprise, cursing at her under his breath. “Are you guys ditching us to have sex? Again.”

“No-”

“Yes-”

You and JJ answered respectively and you elbowed JJ again, “we aren’t leaving. We’re coming down to join you...oh, did you know JJ has undeniable charm?”

Kiara looked him up and down skeptically, “this JJ?”

“You guys are dicks!” He huffed, getting up off the towel and following you down toward the ocean. He grabbed your hand when he got close enough and you paused for a second so the two of you could walk side by side.  

“You know my parents are visiting my grandma on the mainland tonight,” you mentioned, “we’ll have plenty of time to ‘celebrate’ then.”  

[twinklelilstarkey]

Good Girl [HC] - Part 2

Words: 1.4k+

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption. Rafe is a protective mess. Kinda Rafe vs JJ.  

  DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Part 1

Your first date would start with a simple dinner out;

And end with a small walk on the beach;

Rafe would hold your hand as you two would walk silently through the empty beach that circled the island;

And not even with a complete second date, you two would start dating;

Your relationship, right off the bat, would be sooo envied by everyone in your school;

Like, you two are absolute perfection;

The island’s good girl and the island’s bad boy?

Now that’s movie worthy;

As your relationship evolved, the love you two share grew insanely;

You two would have everyday activities that were done so many times that became routines;

Rafe would always pick you up to go to school and to go home;

You two would hang out every afternoon together;

His nights would usually be reserved for his boys;

Who, by the way, love you like a sister;

Whenever Rafe couldn’t go to school, for any reason, they would hang out with you the whole day so you wouldn’t be alone;

Even though you still had your other friends;

Have lunch with you in the cafeteria or even take you out to lunch;

Those boys would always make sure you’re happy;

Once your relationship with Rafe reached a few months, he was finally able to take you to a party;

And you hate that he was able to do it;

Your parents were shocked when you asked them to go to a party at a Friday night;

And since it’s so rare, they let you go;

Rafe would pick you up and take you to the kook’s house that would end up trashed at the end of the night;

Whoever was sober enough was in shock when they saw you in there;

Like, 5 whole minutes of staring at you in shock;

Rafe would have his arm over your shoulders the whole time;

And it took you a while to actually start enjoying the party;

Since the first few minutes were filled with seeing people grinding on each other and smoking into other’s faces;

Topper would be the one grabbing drinks for everyone and he even got you one;

Rafe was the one that actually talked your way into taking a small sip to finally try alcohol;

Topper was nice enough to get you a sweet drink but the after taste of the alcoholic drink made you cringe at Rafe;

He laughed with you the whole night;

Even more when you decided to ignore the aftertaste and just enjoy the drink;

Bad way to find that you’re a light weight in your first time;

But even though it was hilarious to him, he still took care of you;

You had a good time;

You danced with some girls that you met through Topper and they also were one of the reasons why it was so much fun;

A lot of friendships started that night;

And as it got later, you started running out of energy;

Leaning onto Rafe’s chest as he talked to his friend, his hand running through your back in a comforting way;

You had to admit, it was hard not to fall asleep right there;

Rafe didn’t take you home that night since he didn’t want to make you do the silent walk of shame through the house that would surely end up in your parents waking up;

So he took you to his;

The headache on the next day wasn’t as fun;

For you at least;

Rafe finally understood why you would laugh when he was suffering in the mornings;

After that night you started going to parties more frequently;

You would still, sometimes, stay home to finish homework or just to watch a show;

But Rafe’s friends started to ask him many times when were you going to come party with them again, so that was one of the reasons why you went a second, a third and a tenth time to a party with them;

Your parents were slightly worried in the beginning but since they trusted Rafe, it was easier for them to see you walk out of the house on a Friday night;

The only night Rafe didn’t have as much fun was in a party between the Cut and Figure Eight, where the two rivals of the island joined in for a beach party;

He still doesn’t know why the party still happens on a monthly basis, since it’s just a simple, and sometimes boring, bonfire party that would always end with fights;

Quite hypocritical of Rafe, since he would usually be involved in them (when you weren’t with him);

And he disliked it more on your first time in one of these parties;

He had decided to stay (mostly) sober for the night, just in case something would go down;

You hanged out with his group most of the night, but as soon as you started talking to Kiara Carrera, Rafe tensed up;

The Pogues had no idea who you were when Kie brought you to their group, including who you were dating, since they don’t go to the Kook Academy;

And even though Kiara does go to that school, she never cared enough to check who the popular kids were dating;

So yes, this is just the perfect opportunity for all to turn shit;

“Hey Rafe, where’s Y/N?”

As soon as that girl would ask him that, as he talked to Topper, Rafe woke up to reality to notice that you weren’t meters away from him anymore;

He looked around the party to find you talking to Kiara and... JJ;

He was pissed;

But Kelce stopped him before he could go attack the pogues and snatch you away;

So, he offered to do the extraction;

Rafe stayed back as his best friend walked past the huge bonfire and kicked sand on his way to you;

If anything were to go south, Rafe, and, now also, Topper would be right there to run in;

“Hey, Y/N!” Kelce called out as he was close enough, making you end the conversation and look at your boyfriend’s friend;

“What could you want from her, Kelce?” JJ asked back;

You obviously didn’t feel the tense air building up, but everyone else from the group surely did;

As the two boys would bicker, you sipped your drink calmly and stayed lost in your thoughts;

“Rafe is looking for you, Y/N. Let’s go” Kelce would say, almost pleading;

Oh oh

That annoyed the crap out of the Pogues;

“Does he own her or something?” and “Last time I checked she’s free to be wherever she wants to be!” were just examples of what Kelce got as answers;

As soon as the tense atmosphere was more evident, Topper walked past Rafe and walked over there to try and help out his friend to not start a fight;

Leaving an annoyed and a overthinking Rafe with himself;

“Wow, does Rafe want to call any more reinforcements to get a girl?” JJ would bicker, making John B laugh at him;

“If she’s not leaving, it might mean that she doesn’t want to go hang out with your little leader, guys. Go annoy some other girl” Kie would add;

Pope would honestly just stand back and watch everything silently with you;

As they bickered the minutes away, you pat your pockets for your phone and you can’t find it;

Alcohol already affecting your mind enough to not acknowledge the argument in front of you, as well as why they’re arguing, you take a step back from the commotion;

“Wow, you guys really know how to scare a girl away” Kie would say to the Kook boys;

Both Topper and Kelce haven’t been able to say anything that would explain why they needed you to go back to the Kook’s side (example A: Rafe’s dating you), but it’s not like they didn’t try;

JJ would honestly not let them talk;

Same thing with Kie;

“Y/N, can we please go?” Topper would ask you, ignoring the girl beside him;

“Yeah, I don’t know where my phone is” You would murmur over the commotion;

“He has it!” Kelce would yell over JJ’s voice;

Everyone quiets down and you look over to the other side of the party to find Rafe glaring towards you;

You frown at him and walk away from everyone, drunkenly stumbling in the air as you made your way towards your boyfriend;

As he extends his hand towards you, you take it and lean in close to his body;

And that shocked everyone from the Pogue’s group;

Topper and Kelce would look at them in annoyance almost as if they would trying to say “We were trying to tell you this” with just their eyes;

JJ and Rafe share glares as his friends walk back to their side;

And as Rafe throws his arm over your shoulder to pull you in closer to his chest, JJ clenches his jaw and looks away;

Rafe, now satisfied, plants a kiss over your forehead and rests his chin on top of your head as you snuggle close to him;

This will be fun to explain to you in the morning.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Oh, I’m a sucker for rivalry between Rafe and JJ. Don’t judge me. 

(You can request more BadGuy!Rafe vs JJ moments if you would like to see that) Or just ask for more Good Girl x Bad boy.

Ask box

[beevean]

Opinion: How could Sonamy progress in IDW?

[note: the original article was written in Spanish by @latin-dr-robotnik​]

Today we’re going to discuss a recurring topic on my blog, with a more complete perspective.

Today’s article was inspired by an ask I got a few days ago about my possible perspective on the future of IDW Sonamy. I thought it would be interesting to revisit and expand this topic, because it’s still something of great interest for thousands of fans all around the world, and because SEGA has recently adopted a very peculiar position on the couple and their dynamic. As I detailed on my article SEGA and its most recent Sonamy side – more canon than ever, the dynamic has been going through a shift that can be distinguished into two main parts: 1) the commercial potential of Sonamy as a merchandising and marketing icon; 2) the stability of the interactions in the comics, in the short monthly stories on Sonic Channel, and so on.

That being said, there’s no need to mention that we’re going to focus entirely and nothing more than on this ship. I usually suggest other articles for those who prefer to read on other subjects, but today I will recommend our Discord server [translator’s note: the server is mainly Spanish-speaking], where discussions about ships are limited on their own canal that is separated from other themes: general discussions, music, fangames and mods, fanfics, fanart and even gaming in general. As you know, if you want to bring something else to our community, or just avoid talking about Sonamy, you’re more than welcome to join. Now, back on track.

What’s going on with Sonamy in IDW?

To recap what’s happened in these last months: Sonic and his friends finally got through the nightmare that was the Metal Virus, he and Amy hugged a few times, and since very recently they’ve been involved in a short arc about Chao races in Twinkle Park Zone, with a sinister background. In these last months after the eradication of the virus, there have been much closer and warmer interactions between our two hedgehogs, and I suspect that part of this is what inspired that question in the first place: what’s going on?

As I commented in the article where I proposed that Sonamy is “more canon than ever” (I know that it’s an exaggeration, that was the point), SEGA is treading carefully and the main canon seems to be willing to negotiate a more open representation of the relationship between the two in their different continuities, from best friends to something more. What I did not expect to happen was reading an answer from Evan Stanley (artist and writer that replaces Ian Flynn) about their dynamic, summing it up with “they like each other”.

The redrawing of Sonic’s expression when Amy hugs him in a recent drawing of hers made people wonder if this was yet another example of SEGA’s “censoring” (comparison below), to which Evan answered that it was modified to keep Sonic in character: he’s a guy that does not show much emotional vulnerability or too many negative emotions, and this is why sometimes the artists have to adjust WIPs to keep in line with this official point of view. Evan assured that this is not any kind of confirmation that Sonic does not like Amy, and doubles down by highlighting that in the official material, in the wikis and on Sonic Channel they show that, and I quote: “They like each other, but Sonic just isn’t the kind of guy who is going to make goo-goo eyes at Amy or perform grand acts of romance. If you wanna see that, that’s what fan works are for.”

And Evan’s words are a great way to sum up what’s going on with IDW Sonic right now. When it comes to interactions, they’re working with two characters who deep down “like each other”, but both show it in their own way. Amy is much more proactive when it comes to express her feelings, while Sonic only sometimes shows a glimpse of his feelings, with a smile or a small gesture. But at the end of the day they’re still friends and, depending on the situation, the comic can focus more or less on these details.

Comparison between the first sketch showed by Evan and the final product. The modification of the expression was minimal: Sonic’s slight blush was changed into a smile, maybe being a little overwhelmed by the gesture of affection.

The “progression” of the dynamic in the future

A good part of the answer to this question is based on my idea that right now, when it comes to Sonamy, we reached some kind of comfortable plateau. What am I referring to? To the fact that there have been a lot of varied interactions in these last 3 years of the comic, and they’re everything I could have asked for and then some. When we talk about Sonamy in canon, as Evan said, we don’t tend to hope for great romantic gestures from Sonic, we barely even ask for a look that hints that they understand each other beyond what it seems at first glance, so the fact that the IDW continuity is betting so much on this ship is basically a dream come true. For this reason, I don’t think things will change much in the future.

If I have to make a prediction on Sonamy’s future in IDW, I believe that there are still a lot of possibilities that our known writers (and maybe new writers!) could explore more, to see what makes this dynamic work so well. Actually, about 10 years ago, Ian Flynn wrote that if they could take advantage of the abilities and similarities between the two characters as adventurous spirits and with a strong moral sense, they would be “like poetry in motion”. This largely happens in IDW Sonic if you look carefully, but there are always new stories to tell and opportunities for them to work together and explore a bit more their strong bond, stronger than other friendships that they share. When the next major arc comes (which seems to be getting closer), they could explore aspects of their dynamic that are slightly more experimental, like being separated for extended periods of time and under dangerous situations… as long as they don’t turn it into a painful experience like the Metal Virus arc.

What Ian Flynn wrote about Sonamy, what works and what doesn’t. This was written in 2011, when Archie Sonic was still the major comic continuity, and when, according to Ian, Sonic was still “tied” to Sally Acord, leaving little room to the writers’ opinions.

The reality is that I see a stable future for the dynamic in the IDW universe. Sonamy is not fit for a lot of drama (fights, breaking up, etc.) without feeling forced or completely out of place, and only fanfics and fanart could be capable of capitalizing on this kind of content. On the other hand, for reasons I detailed in past articles, SEGA would not dare to alter the established order of the dynamic, let alone new that they managed to recover and maintain control over the ways Sonamy is being portrayed everywhere. SEGA won’t pull a Dragon Prince, which ended up confirming the main ship and then they made them go through a crisis and break up in a heartwrenching way in the graphic novel that acts as a bridge between season 3 and 4.

In short

The future of IDW Sonamy is looking bright and stable. I don’t think there will be serious changes to what we’re experiencing right now, and this is why both Evan Stanley and Ian Flynn agree that the dynamic is practically in the perfect place, keeping in line to how SEGA wants them to be represented together. This means we won’t see more affectionate gestures than what we’re seeing now (I doubt we’ll ever see again Sonic offering Amy a rose like in Sonic X), but it also means that we have now a solid basis for our expectations. In the now old IDW Sonic #2, Sonic and Amy had the chance of seriously talking a bit about what they thought of each other, with Sonic being determined to keep living life his own way (although he wouldn’t mind Amy to accompany him… or even suggesting himself that she could come), and Amy being determined to respect his way of life, because that’s what she loves about him, and she doesn’t want him to change. Since then, all we have seen and we’ll keep seeing in the comic is a consequence of this key moment; the two philosophies that they have and they share, in a constant back-and-forth with some tense moments and some cute moments.

An interesting detail that wasn’t included in the ask and that makes me think is the possibility that all of this will feature in the games as well. This is a completely different matter for another day, but I like to think that there is the possibility that we’ll see SEGA being more interested in inserting more Sonamy in the games, even if in an indirect way like in Sonic Unleashed and its emotional support, especially if the rumors that we’re about to get a soft-reboot are true. Romance is not something Sonic games are famous for doing well… at all, but that doesn’t mean it would be a bad idea to add a little sprinkle of IDW Sonamy in the mix.

And finally, I think I’ve talked enough about this topic, As you know, we’re waiting for some news, and I hope we’ll see each other again here or on our Discord. We’ll see if on this 25th something interesting happens. In any case, see you next time!

The moment that shaped the present and future of their entire relationship, 3 years ago.

[speechlessxx]

Naïveté (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Summary: Ransom loves control and his sweet, innocent plaything doesn’t know better. 

Warnings: DARKish Ransom with hints of soft Ransom but not really, this fic is lowkey a mess, a little uncomfortable situations, unprotected sex, implied AGE GAP, angst, mutual obsession, choking, Ransom is a little off (but what’s new), Sugar Daddy/Baby relationship, innocent reader, implied Dom/Sub dynamic, loss of virginity, poorly written attempt at SMUT

Word Count: 4.7k

Please do not read if anything makes you uncomfortable. 

READ WARNINGS

This is my first time writing smut. Please don’t hate me. 

Something a little different from what I usually write (?)

“You’re not going to see him again, are you?” your friend, Joey, asked you. Worried, judgmental lines sprinkled across his young face as he stared at you. You frowned and shook your head as you brought the straw of your iced coffee to your lips. “Good.” He muttered. “That guy was a creep.”

“He's not that bad,” you argued. 

“(Y/N), he was the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to you,” Joey scoffed as he drank his drink. “I’m just glad you kicked him to the curb before things got too intense.” 

You stayed silent and nodded, taking another sip from the straw. Joey began to talk about your friend group’s evening plans to hit up this bar, but your mind was taking you somewhere else.

You couldn’t tell Joey the truth. It’d disappoint him. It would anger him and jeopardize your friendship. 

But you couldn’t admit that Ransom Drysdale had a hold on you, and you didn’t want him to let go.

As an aspiring writer, you were interning at Blood Like Wine Publishing under Ransom’s uncle, Walt Thrombey. In a twisted turn of events, Walt took a liking to you.

Your doe-eyes and bright optimism intrigued him. He always fluttered around you like a moth to a flame and always had off-putting conversations with you.

It started with his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them in a way that made you uneasy. Then, it was pushing your hair to the side to expose the back of your neck, or his hands that would slither down to the small of your back. Everything about the man made you uncomfortable, but you’d never spoke out against it in fear of losing your internship. 

One day, Walt invited you over to his grandfather’s manor. “A family party,” he explained. And though you were afraid of accepting – calling it an intrusion – Walt insisted. “A chance to meet a world-renowned author,” he said. How could you refuse?

You met Ransom at that party. From the moment you walked through the doors, he knew he had to have you. He was a brat that way.

Walt was too preoccupied with arguing with his father to introduce you to the family. So, you kept to yourself, finding sanctuary in Harlan’s nurse, Marta, who looked just as out of place as you did. 

Unbeknownst to either of you, Ransom was listening in on your conversation – stalking you as if you were his prey.

Marta had explained to you that she was very fortunate to work with Harlan and that he was a kind man. Ransom couldn’t help but rolled his eyes when Marta had brought up how she and his grandfather were great friends. Blah, blah, blah, he thought as she droned on.

Then, he heard you open up about yourself. 

About how your scholarship was barely covering your tuition and how you were too late to apply to housing, so you had to live off campus in a ratty apartment whose rent was too much to handle on a monthly basis. You told Marta about how your part-time job at the local coffee shop next to campus was barely paying you enough for groceries, let alone the rest of your expenses.

The gears inside Ransom’s devious mind began to turn as a plan started to form in his head.

When Marta had been whisked away into a conversation about immigration with his father, Ransom found the perfect opportunity to meet you.

“I’m Ransom,” he introduced.

“(Y/N),” you greeted, offering your hand. He took it and brought it to his lips. Your cheeks flushed. Where all the Thrombey men this welcoming - this comfortable?Ransom smirked at your reaction.

Similar to his uncle, his hand found its way to the small of your back as he maneuvered you to the back door. Perhaps, it was simply a Thrombey gesture?

It was easy to navigate through a conversation with you. You were a good listener, Ransom was a great talker. The conversation went by smoothly as Ransom droned on and on about himself (something he was really good at). 

“I have too much money. I don’t know what to do with myself,” Ransom had joked, steering the conversation in his favor.

You chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I wish I had that problem.” Ransom responded with a hum, encouraging you to open up about your financial troubles (though he knew it all from eavesdropping earlier).

“I think I have the perfect solution to both our troubles,” Ransom proposed. 

And the rest was history. 

-=+=-

No one close to you knew the exact extent of the relationship. You tried to create the narrative that you met Ransom through Walt and the relationship just blossomed.

You were embarrassed to admit that Ransom was paying your rent, tuition, and giving you a weekly allowance that helped you get by.

Joey had even joked that working for the Thrombeys was changing you when he noticed your sudden change in labels. You had forgone the Forever 21 sales section and wore the luxury brands that Ransom deemed worthy to be draped over his angel.

When your friends met Ransom - the man keeping you afloat by sharing his own riches – they knew something was up. Though they didn’t have a clue about the financial aspect of the relationship, they knew that Ransom was bad news.

They’d tell you he stared at you like a piece of meat. He’d watch your every move as if he were engraving your very image in his mind. Joey would tell you he didn’t like the way Ransom had a grip on you every time you were together. 

“He’s possessive and not in a cute way,” Joey warned you, but you shrugged him – and all your friends – off.

You’d tell them that Ransom loved you... But were you trying to convince them or yourself?

Your friends saw through Ransom. They saw how he was taking advantage of your innocence and your naivete.

When you told Ransom of your friends’ opinions, he told you to ignore it, so you did. But as time went on, it was clear that their reluctance to be accepting of the relationship bothered you. You blamed it on the age difference. (You were still in college and Ransom was in his mid-thirties). But it was more than that and your friends didn’t quite know how to explain it to you. You were just so in love with the guy - who were they to dictate your love life? They just cared about your well being. 

So, Ransom commanded that you lie to everyone. “Tell them we broke up,” Ransom told you. “Just a fib to get them off your back.” When you showed reluctance, Ransom said with pleading eyes, “do it because I love you.”

You were always too trusting for your own good.

But you couldn’t see that. You saw Ransom as your white knight – your savior. He made sure whatever balance your scholarship left was paid for. He even got you out of that ratty apartment and into a better one that was worth the expensive rent. It was closer to campus, too, so you didn’t have to ride the bus. He kept you fed and clothed. Ransom kept you afloat. 

You were afraid to let him go – afraid that his interest would fade, and another girl would be the apple of his eye. What would happen to you then? So, you tried to become everything Ransom wanted. You depended on him after all...

Just like he planned it.

-=+=-

The ride was silent. The text on your phone read Harlan’s manor. Need you here. NOW.

The driver asked you if you wanted him to turn on the radio. He was just as eager to ease the tension, so you gladly obliged. When he arrived at the family manor, he even told you, “good luck, miss.”

You gave him a nervous smile. What were you stepping into? (And were you prepared for the aftermath?).

You didn’t bother to knock on the door. He was already waiting outside for you. A cigarette in his hand. You frowned as he extinguished it against the brick wall.

“Ransom, hey,” you offered him a smile.

He didn’t return it. He had a scowl on his face and something on his mind. His face scrunched up in aggravation. He only gave you a hard stare. His blue eyes staring at you in the dark night.

He eyed you up and down. You wore a white lace dress from whatever designer (he didn’t care). He liked white on you and you knew that. It made you look like an angel – his angel. A symbol of purity – something you naturally were.

“You’re late,” he said. His voice was hard, matching the expression etched on his face. Hard and disapproving.

“I… I was with Joey,” you explained. “He was getting suspicious, so we went on a coffee date – “

“Did I ask?” Ransom snapped. “It’s part of the agreement. You make yourself available to me 24/7. That’s why I pay you so much.” You gulped as you adverted your eyes, unable to hold his angry glare for too long. He let out a sigh and held out his hand. You glanced at him, uncertainty written all over your face. “I’m not going to wait forever, (Y/N).”

“Sorry,” you muttered and took his hand. Ransom pulled you to him. His lips smashed against yours and you cringed at the faint smell of smoke.

You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away – trying to catch your breath. But his grip tightened. “Kiss back,” he muttered into the kiss, growing impatience at your insubordination. Reluctantly, you did as you were told. After long minutes of the uncomfortable session, he pulled away and eyed you again. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice hushed. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Why’d you asked me to come?”

“I was bored,” he shrugged. What he didn’t say was, there’s a situation I can’t handle, so I need something I can control around me or else I’ll lose my mind.

“So, I’m entertainment?” you joked, nervously. He laughed a bit. You looked into the house through the windows. You could hear faint chatter and cheers of happy birthday. “It’s someone’s birthday?” you asked.

“Harlan’s,” Ransom nodded.

“Oh, I should probably pop in and – “you began walking towards the door.

“Don’t,” Ransom ordered through clenched teeth, and you froze in your tracks. Your hand was grazing the cool metal of the doorknob. You pulled your hand away and walked back to stand in front of Ransom. “Good girl,” he muttered, an arm slinging itself around your waist. “We should get out of here.” He whispered, stealing another kiss from your sweet lips.

“My friends are at this bar tonight,” you offered. “We could stop by.”

“And let them know we’re seeing each other again?” Ransom laughed, dryly. “I’d rather not let them turn you against me.”

“No one could ever do that,” you assured him.

“Let’s go to my place,” Ransom muttered. “Something I want to show you.” He said as he nipped at the exposed skin of your neck. You yelped in surprise as a strange feeling shot through you.

Ransom has invited you over once or twice before. Most of your outings usually ended with him dropping you off at your apartment. He didn’t normally offer to take you to his place or swing by. The offer was spontaneous – different.

You smiled and nodded, not wanting to piss him off more than he already was.

He led you to his Beamer. The ride was silent, and Ransom didn’t bother to try to ease the tension. No music. No conversation. Just a hand that rubbed the inside of your thigh in a manner that unsettled you.

Sure, Ransom was handsy at times, but he kept his distance from your most intimate areas. He’d always had to have a hand on your waist or your hand gripped in his. The most he’s ever done to make you uncomfortable was when he wrapped his hand around your neck to keep you from turning away when he kissed you. That was it.

In truth, Ransom saw you like a delicate doll. Such purity and innocence should be maintained. But tonight, Ransom was losing control – his chat with Harlan left him spiraling. 

The only thing he still had control over was sitting in the passenger seat of his car.

-=+=-

His home was just as you remembered it. Large windows, large spaces, large rooms. It was clean, for the most part. A few clothing items discarded on the floor, some hung on chairs. He shrugged off his dark grey cardigan and hung it on one of the chairs, joining the other clothes.

Ransom led you straight into his kitchen. He fetched a beer and a bottle of water. You were never much of a drinker. Ransom knew that. He stared at you as you wrapped your lips around the bottle’s opening and drank it carefully. He was still deciding – trying to make up his mind.

Should he ruin his little plaything now? Or shall he wait?

“You said you wanted to show me something?” You asked.

He nodded. “It can wait.” He walked over to you. You were leaning against his kitchen island. He plucked the bottle from your hand, placing it to the side along with his beer, and brought his hands to your hips.

“Rans – umph!” You yelped as he effortlessly lifted you up onto the counter. “What are you doing?” You asked him with a small, nervous laugh. Your face heated up as each of his hands settled to both of your knees and spread them. When you tried to fight against his grips, Ransom just slotted his waist between your legs. “Ransom?” You asked as he placed one hand on your waist and the other at the back of your neck. He hummed quietly. His eyes didn’t meet yours. They simply stared are your lips. “What cha doin’ there?”

He didn’t respond. He captured your lips with his and you were too stunned to react, so you simply mirrored his actions.

Sometimes Ransom got like this. Sometimes he wouldn’t talk and he’d just assume you’d read his mind. But tonight, your minds weren’t in unison.

You were under the impression he just needed physical contact (which was true). You thought he just needed comfort and you were more than willing to give it to him.

But tonight, Ransom wanted something much more than simple kisses and a few touches.

You tried to pull away to catch your breath, but Ransom pulled you back. He licked at your bottom lip, wanting entrance, but you refused him. So, in retaliation, Ransom yanked your hair which made you yelp. He took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. He didn’t need to fight for dominance. You just sat there with your mouth open, unsure of what to do – unsure of how to react. He had never been physical with you – he had never tried to hurt you.

The kiss was heated. You wished it were passionate or loving, but it wasn’t that. It was something else entirely.

Desperate to catch your breath, you bit on his tongue. It was a mistake. One that you’d pay for. But you were desperate.

He pulled away suddenly. “What the fuck!” He snapped.

“I’m – I’m sorry, Ransom – I just,” you stammered, unable to explain yourself. “I – I couldn’t breathe. I’m sorry, Ransom.”

Your eyes finally met. His bright blue eyes were dark like the night sky. And it was then you understood what Joey and all your friends told you. He stared at you like he was starved and you were the only thing on the menu.

“You little, ungrateful bitch,” Ransom spat. One of his hands wrapped firmly around your throat, tightening slightly and cutting off your oxygen. “You breathe when I let you. You live because I let you. The clothes you wear, the food you eat, the fucking apartment you live in – it’s all because I gave it to you. You could at least show some appreciation.” 

His grip tightened until you could see tiny black dots peppering your vision. And then suddenly, Ransom let go.

You fell forward into Ransom. Your head in the crook of his neck and hands on his shoulder. You were coughing and sputtering out apologizes, unsure of what else to tell him.

“You’re gonna show me some appreciation, baby,” he cooed but his voice was nowhere near comforting. It was taunting. “Alright?” You nodded. “Okay, c’mon,” he hoisted you up. Panicked, you wrapped your arms around him and your legs around his torso, afraid he would drop you. “I got you, sweet angel… I got you.”

You weren’t sure where he was taking you until you were laid on soft, satin sheets. You opened your eyes and saw Ransom standing at the foot of the bed. He pulled his sweater from his body and you felt your jaw drop. Why would he hide his toned physique beneath sweaters? It was a mystery to you.

He smirked when he caught you ogling him. He was always so cocky.

“How?” you murmured. He cocked an eyebrow up at you. “How am I going to show you?”

Ransom’s smirk widened as he reached down for you. His fingers lightly traced the neckline of the dress. “I think you know,” he muttered. 

Your heart thudded against your chest in realization. You tried to scoot away from him, but Ransom leaned his body forward, encaging you.

“You don’t want to make me mad, baby, do you?” He whispered, his tone still taunting. His hot breath against your ear. You closed your eyes and shook your head. “Good. Because I don’t think you want me to take away all the nice things I’ve given you, right?” You nodded. “Take off the dress for me.” He ordered, releasing you.

You did as you were told, not wanting to make him angry. His breath hitched when you revealed yourself to him. He always knew you were beautiful. The idea of you being untouched – unclaimed – made blood flow straight to his member.

His expert fingers made quick work of your bra clasp. He discarded your brassiere along with his sweater and tutted at you when your hands instinctively went to cover yourself up. He pried your hands away from your chest. 

“Don’t cover yourself up, angel,” he told you, leaning forward and leaving a trail of sloppy, wet kisses down your neck. He kissed the bruises that were forming from his grip moments ago. He scolded himself for damaging the delicate skin of his angel.

He kissed down your collarbones and found his way to your breasts. He took his time worshiping your body. There was no rush (the night was still young). 

As his lips worked on one of your mounds, his fingertips toyed with the other. You couldn’t hold back the moans that were escaping you and the heat that presented itself in between your legs. 

Everything was so foreign to you. All you could do was toy with the hair on the back of Ransom’s head and moan his name.

He moved one of his hands to cup your clothed sex. He felt the increasingly dampening spot through the delicate material and moaned against your nipple. He stared up at you as he continued his assault. Your eyes were closed tightly and your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you continued to let out soft moans. The sound going straight to his crotch.

In one swift motion, Ransom was able to pull your underwear down your legs. The material fell to the floor and he kicked it to join the rest of the discarded clothing. He pulled away from you to admire your body, splayed out on his bed like an offering. Your cunt glistening in the pale moonlight, calling his name. He fumbled with his belt as he shoved his slacks along with his boxer briefs down.

Your eyes finally opened and were met with the intimidating appendage. Long and thick. Fear suddenly flooded through you. It wouldn’t fit. Was this worth it? Was surrendering your virginity to Ransom – your white knight, your savior – worth the luxury? Worth the money?

“Don’t be scared, angel,” Ransom muttered as he leaned over you. You were shaking. He shushed you as you thrashed around. “I give you so many things, baby girl,” he said lowly, his voice turning into a growl. “At least give me this in return.”

You sniffled before nodding. You were afraid though you weren’t sure what frightened you more. The menacing crazed look on Ransom’s beautiful face or the fear that you were about to lose your virginity.

Ransom’s hands traced the curves of your body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. And then one of his hands carefully rubbed against your folds, finding your clit expertly. You felt your muscles clench. He rubbed it in tight circles, causing electricity to run through you. 

As much as Ransom was eager to be inside of you, he didn’t want to hurt his angel. He had to prep his sweet, innocent angel. He wanted his angel to enjoy this.

Your breathing was shaky as you slowly gave into the feeling. He shifted in his position and carefully thrusted two fingers into your cunt. You gasped at the sudden intrusion. You threw your head back as he stroked your inner walls, exploring your untried canal.

“You’re wet, angel, and we barely begun,” Ransom said ever so cockily. You moaned in response. No words could form. You tried to bite onto your bottom lip, trying to silence yourself. But Ransom tutted at you. He slapped your clit and you yelped in surprise. “I want to hear every sound.” He ordered before scissoring your opening, attempting to stretch you open. The wet, slick sounds accompanied by your moans were all too addicting to the man that hovered over you.

You felt helpless and pathetic. You were putty in his hands. He felt you clench around his fingers when he curled them, brushing against a certain spot. He smirked as he continued to play with that spot and thrusted a third finger into you. You mewled against him as your hands fisted the satin sheets.

“Ran – Ransom,” you panted, eyes watery. “Something’s – something’s happening…” you moaned as you felt a coil within your stomach snap. You screamed as your orgasm crashed through you. Ransom smirked watched you drip around his hand. He pulled away from your pussy and your eyes widened as he slowly brought his fingers to his lips and sucked away your juices.

“Want a taste?” he asked you. You didn’t respond as he brought one of his fingers and brushed it against your lips. He then leaned down and stole another hungry kiss, sharing your taste.

While you were distracted from your previous orgasm and from the kiss, Ransom pumped his member and lined it up with you.

Catching you off guard, he pushed in. You shuddered in pain, pulling your lips away from him as your eyes widened in pain. The stretch itself was unbearable.

He pushed his tip in and you nearly shrieked. “Ransom – “you whimpered. “It hurts – It hurts!”

Ransom simply shushed you and kissed your lips. “Relax, angel… just relax for me.” You tried to do as you were told but found it quite difficult. He continued to push in inch by inch and you were afraid he was never-ending. “You’re so tight,” he murmured against your lips. You bit your lip as tears started to prick in your eyes.

And finally, he bottomed out. You had never felt so full. You swore you could feel him in your stomach. 

Ransom looked down to where you were both connected and groaned. He loomed over your body as you willed your muscles to relax around him. “Hey, hey,” he said, softly, using one of his hands to turn you to face him. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he praised and began to pull out.

His strokes were gentle. Pulling out only a few inches before thrusting back in. Only when the pain begun to dull and your whimpers turned into moans again, did Ransom pick up the pace. The slapping of skin and his groans. Everything started to feel cloudy. You felt as if he were tearing you apart, but your body welcomed the pain that was turning into pleasure.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you hung onto him as he ravaged you. You continued to mewl and moan into his neck as you felt the same coil in your stomach tighten. Your walls clenched around Ransom and he knew you were close again. He reached back down to your clit and rubbed it again.

“C’mon, baby, come for me,” Ransom urged you as he thrusted. He thrusted all the way in and grinded against your sex. You moaned as you tensed, the coil bursting once again. Ransom groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, milking him and throwing him off the edge with you. He filled you up with his thick cum, but he continued to pump into you, painting your walls – marking you as his.

You were a breathless, sweaty mess as he pushed you into another orgasm with his thrusts. You were convulsing and twitching underneath him, fighting to stay conscious. You felt Ransom pull out completely and felt your mixed juices drip from your pussy. Your vision was hazy as your head turned to the side, eyes fluttering close.

Ransom winced when he looked down. Your blood covered his length and was splattered all over your lower body. He sighed and looked at the clock. It was late, but he knew that there would still be guests over at the house. It was the perfect time, especially with you falling asleep.

“You did so good for me, angel,” he whispered to your sleeping body as he wiped your blood away with his sweater. He decided that he’d deal with the bloodstained sheets when he returned. You were most likely still going to be knocked out. 

He pressed a kiss to your lips and smiled. Even in sleep – even after being fucked – you still looked like an angel.

When you awoke, the sheets had been changed but you were still stark naked. Daylight was trickling through the windows. Ransom emerged from the bathroom door. “You’re awake,” he smiled wickedly at you. You returned a shy smile when you realized he was only in a towel with water droplets painting his Adonis-like body. You looked away as he dressed himself. He smirked. You were still bashful as if the night before he wasn’t buried deep inside of you.

“Did you leave?” you ask. Your heart dropped at the thought.

He shook his head and relief washed over you as he sat next to you on the bed. His finger gently traced your jaw before leaning in to give you a kiss. “I was here all night, all morning, too,” Ransom lied. “You’ll attest to that right?”

“What?”

“I cleaned you up after we had sex,” Ransom told you. “Changed the sheets and then held you throughout the night. I told you I loved you and I thanked you for allowing me to be the first - and only - man inside of you .”

“Right.” You nodded, blushing at his words.

“I didn’t leave you, angel.” Ransom promised. “I was with you all night, all morning.”

-=+=-

“Where was Mr. Drysdale the night of his grandfather’s death?” the prosecutor asked you.

You looked around the courtroom and met Ransom’s blue eyes. He gave you a small nod, knowing you won’t let him down. He did this all for you – so that he can continue taking care of you – after all.

“Uh,” you muttered into the microphone, “he was with me… at his house.”

“Mr. Drysdale’s statement says that he asked you to join him at the manor the night of Harlan Thrombey’s birthday party, yet no one in the family saw you?”

You nodded. “Ransom – Hugh – was already outside when I arrived. I wanted to go inside, but he told me not to and he asked if I’d accompany him to his house.”

“So, you can account to Mr. Drysdale’s whereabouts the whole night?” The prosecutor prompted. “There were no times that he stepped out? Even when you were asleep?”

You nodded. “He was with me all night, all morning, too.”

Ransom smiled at you when you met his eyes. Good girl. He thought. His sweet little angel still under his control.

[sisterspooky1013]

Casual, by SisterSpooky1013

Rated Teen, 1446 words, here on AO3

She knew she had to end it. It had happened six times now. Six incredible, mind-blowing times. The first time she thought it had only been so good because it had been so long since she’d had sex, or even been touched by a man. But when each subsequent time was better and better, she knew it was just them. Their insane chemistry, their years-long unresolved sexual tension, the deeply intimate way they knew one another. It should have been no surprise that the sex was mind-numbly good. Masturbate the next day thinking about it good. Forget to go at a green light because you’re remembering it good. Do it 5 more times because you simply can’t stop yourself good.

But it was only going to end badly. She knew that her feelings for Mulder were far beyond the realm of friendship, or partnership, or even love. She was bound to him by her very soul, so in love with him that she would sooner die alone than consider being with anyone else. As far as she knew, Mulder cared for her deeply but wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship. Well, friendship with benefits, perhaps, given recent developments. The longer she let this go on, the more it would hurt when she realized that she would never have him, not really.

She’d asked him over tonight, and she knew by the way he responded that he took it to be a booty call, and she wondered how much worse it would make things if she had sex with him one more time before cutting him loose. No. No, she couldn’t do that.

His knock was rapid, giving away his excitement at being here, and she felt a little bad that he was coming over expecting sex and was instead going to leave having been forcibly shoved back into celibacy. She opened the door to find him in jeans and a black T shirt, a playful smile on his face.

“Hey,” he greeted her warmly, reaching out to cup her elbows, pulling her closer.

She dropped her arms away from her torso, breaking his grasp. “Mulder, sit down. We need to talk.”

He quirked his head quizzically, his smile falling into a confused pout. “Okay…”

He sat heavily on the couch, eyeing her nervously as she came around to sit next to him. Not as far away as possible, but also not quite close enough to touch. She swallowed hard and then launched into her prepared speech, eyes on the lamp behind his shoulder and hands fidgeting nervously in her lap.

“Mulder, listen. Whatever has been going on, between us…it needs to stop. It’s been…nice…it’s been great, but it’s just not…I just don’t think it’s a good idea. We work together, and I care about you, so much, and I just don’t see how this is going to end up anywhere but…bad. With us no longer being friends. And I don’t want that, so, it needs to stop.”

She chanced a look at his face and it was knit with confusion, eyebrows pulled and mouth upturned in doubt.

“What…why do you think it would only end badly, Scully? What makes you so sure of that?” He turned to the side so he was fully facing her, draping his arm across the back of the couch. How did he seem so relaxed right now? Smug bastard.

“Mulder, I don’t judge how you…conduct your personal affairs. But for me, sex means something and I’m really not the kind of person to just casually sleep with someone who I’m not in a relationship with. I think I’d eventually just end up getting hurt, through no fault of your own, it’s just…not a compatible situation.”

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He was thinking about what she’d said, thinking about it very hard, it seemed. Staying in his hunkered down posture, he turned his head to look at her.

“So just to be sure I understand, you believe that this is just casual sex for me, and you don’t want casual sex, so you think we should stop doing it?”

She nodded. “More or less, yes.”

He turned his head back so that he was looking at the floor between his knees, and began to speak.

“You know that ‘find your inner self’ seminar I went to a few weeks ago? The one you refused to go to with me on the basis that it was, and I quote ‘woo woo hippie dippy mumbo jumbo’? Well, you were right that it was a bunch of whacky new age bullshit, even for me, but there was this one exercise where they asked us a bunch of questions that were supposed to get us tapping into our memories or something. “

He kept this head down and she listened raptly with a horrified expression. Where on Earth was he going with this?

“They asked about a lot of negative memories and those were mostly around Samantha and my parents, but then they asked us a bunch of questions like ‘what’s the event that made you the happiest in your life?’ and ‘think of a time you felt a true sense of contentment’ and I started to realize that all my good memories were with you. And this one question in particular was ‘what was a moment that you felt so much joy that you wished you could bottle it up?’ And I immediately thought about that case in Carson City a month or two ago, you remember that?”

He glanced at her and she nodded softly.

“There was that sheriff who was like a caricature of a small town cop with an underbite and a ten-gallon hat, and that ridiculous fake accent. So we had just gotten back to the hotel after a complete waste of a day and you were in a shitty mood, understandably, and I was trying to make you laugh.”

She smiled a little recalling his Herculean efforts to make her laugh, and how she’d resisted for as long as possible, which just encouraged him.

“So I started doing an impression of the sheriff, and it was either very good or very bad because you started laughing hysterically, and you actually fell over on the bed clutching your stomach, and you had tears running down your face, and you were begging me to stop because you were going to pee your pants.”

He was smiling down at the floor, but he turned then and looked at her, his smile fading into something more serious. She was caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes and her own smile dropped in anticipation of…she didn’t know what yet.

“And at that moment, I thought ‘wow, I love her.’ That wasn’t the moment I realized that I was in love with you, that actually happened when you told me you had cancer. But I knew that I could never be what you needed, I could never be enough for you, so I just accepted that it was a reality of my life that I’d be in love with you and we’d be friends, and nothing more. But when you were laughing like that, I had this realization that maybe I could actually make you happy. Maybe I could be enough.”

He sat back up now, turning to face her but keeping his hands in his lap. Her eyes were wet, lips parted and breath shallow as she tried to orient herself to what he was saying.

“So, I’m sorry that I somehow gave you the impression that this was casual for me. This could not possibly be any less casual for me, and I think if anyone’s likely to get hurt in this situation, it’s me. If you still want to end this, we will, but it won’t be because I wasn’t interested in anything more.”

Her lip quivered as she felt hot tears spilling down her cheeks. How had she gotten it so wrong? She leaned forward and he opened his arms to her, pulling her into an embrace while he placed kissed on her forehead and cheeks, and finally her mouth, kissing her chastely over and over, peppering her with affection.

“Mulder?”

He hummed as he continued his constellation of kisses anywhere he could find exposed skin.

“Take me to bed,” she breathed huskily.

He lifted his head to look at her. “So don’t want to stop, then?” He asked, just a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“God no,” she growled, and he carried her into her bedroom while they both laughed.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Could we possibly get a part two of the Armin having a crush on you while you are with ereH✨

Yep! I can't have enough of watching sweet Armin have the most conflicting feelings about ereH✨ his bestfriend betraying his trust and stealing his love what a wonderful lesson Armin will go through :)

Armin having a crush on you while you're with Eren Pt.2

{ Armin x reader, implied Eren x reader | rating: suggestive | tw:possessiveness, tw:unhealthy-friendships, tw:lowkey-toxic, tw:jealousy | angst, drama,.pinning | modern }

{ "Nocturne sur le Quai" by Henri Marius-Camille Bouvet 1859-1945 }

When mentioning love, it's normal to imagine the sort of love that's sweet, passionate and kind. The kind that could set fire that burns even brighter than the stars yet still be as soft as a feather.

The type of love that actually gets you places, moves you closer together, maybe a relationship and in the future maybe even more. The mutual type of love.

Which is why it's so hard to talk about the other more taboo and looked down upon type of love, the unrequited kind. Usually buried so deep in one's heart beneath mountains of shame.

Only emerging it's head to make itself known just before one falls asleep, adding to the list of growing daily anxieties that loom in the back of one's mind.

That's what Armin has been dealing with for the past 8 months, carrying the burden of his feelings on his shoulders. While you go about your day completely unconcerned and unaware of the longing his mind has spun for you.

And despite the piles of crumbled pages filled with poems of adoration and secret confessions currently spilling out of the trash can in his room, the earth still spins on, undisturbed and uncaring for each line he pulled from the depth of his soul on those papers.

It's almost like the world just doesn't care for his suffering, the trees only growing taller and the season only getting colder.

And you and Eren getting even more closer.

It's funny, you'd think after all this time his feelings for you would disappear or get sweeped under the rug and never spoken of again.

But only if.

Armin himself isn't sure how he not only managed to keep his feelings towards you, but how you managed to pull him in even more. With every little habit of yours he'd fall harder and harder, with every word you spoke his heart would melt more and more.

Crushes were supposed to disappear after you get to know the person, it's what these self help books he's been reading all say.

So why only knowing more about you just resulted in him wanting you even more than words can describe, despite seeing you in his bestfriend's arms on the daily his mind just won't accept it.

And yet, when he's alone at night he can't help but be hit with the cold truth that he's still alone, you're not with him. No matter how close he hugs the pillow to his chest it doesn't quite feel right...like how you'd feel against him.

The small voice in the back of his mind starts whispering again, about how he should just dismiss his unwanted love, how pathetic and childish he is, pinning after someone he can't have.

That maybe if he was a little more sane, he'd realise how he's the one who missed his shot and accept defeat. He had a whole month in advance and yet Eren didn't even wait for the weekend to ask you out on a date.

And yet, after his shame party ends and all his insecurites go to bed, he can't help but imagine what life would've been with you, countless 'what if's and endless scenarios swimming through his head.

What if he just kissed you that one time? You know the day when the two of you shared a drink under an umbrella while it rained, the sound of rain couldn't distract him from the way you'd lick your lips every now and then.

What if he drove you home that night instead of Eren? would you've invited him inside too? Maybe he'd get to see your room up close and the both of you would end up sharing childhood stories while cuddling under the blankets.

He'd tell you about the squirrels he befriended as a kid while you closed your eyes, falling asleep to the sound of his voice and the soft beating of his heart.

What if he actually spoke up when Eren began interrupting your conversations just to get your attention on him again, what if he said no and called Eren out for what he's doing.

He told Mikasa about it, he had to, otherwise he'd go crazy from overthinking alone. Not to mention she was getting worried about his unusual behaviour, after all there's only so much excuses he can come up with on why he can't hang out today.

So many lies he can fabricate about why he stopped going to Eren’s house since the day his mom mentioned you, till it starts getting suspicious.

He doesn't hate Eren...

Does he hate him?

No, he doesn't think so. He still considers him one of his bestfriends but then why does he so badly wish for Eren to disappear or go somewhere far away.

Simple, his mind would say to him, because you want him out of the way, so you can reclaim what's supposed to be yours, what you lost.

Did he lose you? You're not an object to be claimed, you chose Eren so why can't he just accept that fact.

His thoughts and Emotions are in complete chaos and conflict, he can't recognise which thoughts are actually his own and which are merely passing through.

He started daydreaming about you, a lot.

About someone he thought he'd have.

Someone he wished he could have.

Especially on early mornings when the sun shines brighter and the sane part of his mind hasn't woken up yet, he finds himself indulging in his own fantasies.

He can have boundless hope in the safety of his own mind, giving you endless love and telling himself that he's found an angel. Solely on the basis of how kind your eyes look or how lovely your laugh sounds.

Or maybe just how he melts a little everytime you touch his shoulder or hand, maybe it's the way you lean in whenever you tell him something or it's the way he can almost get high on your sweet smell alone.

He knows it's a denial of reality, but he doesn't know a better solution. He can't just barge into other's relationships with his own unfulfilled emotions.

Nor does he really want to start a proper love affair despite how alluring that idea sounds to him.

So daydreaming will do for now, where your life together is safely tucked away in the corner of his mind.

Maybe in the future, humanity is surrounded by a thought police that goes inside your brain and condemns any and every inappropriate thought you may have.

But for now he has the freedom to dream, think, hope, long and daydream about a life with you, about the way you'd feel sleeping in his arms or they way you'd smile whenever he kisses you good morning. And no future armed cyber-guards would ever know