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chheolie · 5 months ago

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i think you might be a little disappointed that they are divorced, so here is the second part

it was a quiet morning, and the sun had barely risen on the horizon when you grabbed your phone to check the messages. as you swiped the screen, one notification caught your attention: "reminder: trip to the beach house - d/n’s birthday." your heart tightened as you read those words. the beach house had always been a special place, full of happy memories, but it also held painful ones, especially from the last trip where you and seungcheol were together as a couple. it was there that your relationship came to an end.

even so, you knew that this trip was important, especially for your daughter, who loved that place more than anywhere else. with a deep sigh, you decided to send a message to seungcheol, something you had been putting off for days, fearing what he might say.

"are you going on the trip?" you wrote, hesitantly, feeling the weight of uncertainty in your words.

minutes that felt like hours passed before his reply arrived. when the phone vibrated, you opened the message with a nervousness you couldn’t hide.

"yes, it’s important for her." his words were direct, but they carried a responsibility that both of you shared. although your marriage had ended, the love for your daughter continued to bind you together in an unbreakable way.

on the day of the trip, seungcheol arrived at your house to pick you up. your daughter, as excited as always, ran into her father’s arms with contagious joy. her smile upon seeing him left no doubt that this trip meant a lot to her. as you watched the scene, a mix of emotions washed over you. it was good to see them together, but his presence always brought back memories of what you had lost.

during the drive to the beach house, the atmosphere in the car was strange. your daughter talked nonstop, excited about the weekend plans, but you and seungcheol barely exchanged words. it was hard to ignore the weight of the past, especially knowing that the last time you were at that house as a family was also when you decided to go your separate ways.

when you finally arrived, your daughter ran inside the house, exploring each room as if it was her first time there. for her, that place would always be magical, full of good memories. you and seungcheol began unloading the car in silence, exchanging brief and uncomfortable glances. neither of you knew quite how to act. the silence was almost suffocating, and both seemed hesitant to say anything that might open old wounds.

the next morning, you woke up early, with the first rays of sunlight gently illuminating the house. there was a quiet stillness in the air, broken only by the soft sound of the waves. as you stepped out of the bedroom, you found seungcheol already awake, sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee in his hands. he seemed thoughtful, lost in his own thoughts. for a moment, you considered going back to the bedroom, but you decided to join him, feeling that perhaps it was the right time to talk about what you both had been avoiding for so long.

sitting beside him, you felt the weight of the silence between you, but also a strange sense of peace. the smell of coffee mixed with the salty sea breeze, creating a nostalgic atmosphere. it was then that memories of the last trip came flooding back. you looked out at the horizon, trying to find the right words.

"it was here that everything fell apart, wasn’t it?" your voice came out low, almost fearful, as if reliving that moment could bring back all the pain you had worked so hard to overcome.

seungcheol sighed deeply, without taking his eyes off the sea. "yes, it was here. and i still think about that day, about the things i could have done differently. not a day goes by without me asking myself where exactly things started to go wrong."

his words hit you in a way you didn’t expect. there was so much regret in his voice, a pain that mirrored your own. "i think about that too... about how everything could have been different. but i think that at the time, we were both so lost, trying to find our own way, that we ended up drifting apart. i felt so alone, even when you were around. like there was an invisible barrier between us."

he turned to you, his eyes showing a vulnerability he rarely let show. "i never wanted to make you feel that way, y/n. but i was so focused on work, on fulfilling all the responsibilities, that i ended up losing you in the process. i didn’t know how to handle the pressure, and it destroyed us."

before the conversation could deepen further, the soft sound of footsteps coming from the bedroom interrupted the moment. your daughter had woken up, bringing with her the vibrant energy of a child full of expectations for the day. seungcheol stood up with a smile, offering to take her for a walk while you stayed home, resting and processing everything that had been said.

hours later, when seungcheol and your daughter returned, you greeted them with a smile, noticing that they were carrying bags of food. your daughter ran up to you, her eyes shining with excitement. "mommy! look what we brought! we got your favorite dessert!" she exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement.

you looked at seungcheol, who gave you a knowing smile, and felt a lump form in your throat. that simple gesture, but full of care, moved you in a way you didn’t expect. for a moment, all the repressed emotions came to the surface, and you found yourself struggling to hold back the tears. but it was useless. the tears began to fall, and you tried to disguise it, smiling at your daughter so she wouldn’t notice.

seungcheol noticed immediately and approached, concerned. "hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice full of care as he reached out to hold your hand.

you nodded, though your voice faltered as you tried to respond. "yes... it’s just that... this means a lot to me. you both mean a lot to me."

he gently squeezed your hand, his eyes fixed on yours as if he wanted to say something but was choosing his words carefully. the moment was delicate, full of unspoken emotions and feelings that you both were trying to process.

the afternoon unfolded in a series of joyful and simple moments. you cooked together, played on the beach, and for a moment, everything felt like it used to. your daughter’s laughter echoed through the house, and you felt that maybe, just maybe, the weight of the past was finally starting to lift. the atmosphere was light, and it was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, you were so nervous about spending the weekend with him.

when the evening came, you prepared the small birthday party with all the love you could muster. your daughter was radiant, and the house was filled with laughter and music. the table was loaded with sweets and snacks that you had prepared together, and the cake, decorated in her favorite colors, sat in the center, waiting to be cut.

you sang "happy birthday," and the smile on your daughter’s face as she blew out the candles was the highlight of the night. she closed her eyes tightly, making a wish, and then, with a determined puff, blew out the candles. the applause and cheers of "hurray!" echoed through the house, and for a moment, everything seemed perfect. you and seungcheol exchanged glances during the celebration, and there was something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a long time—tenderness and affection that warmed your heart.

after dinner, with full bellies and light hearts, your daughter finally began to show signs of fatigue. she yawned and rubbed her eyes, making you and seungcheol laugh. "i think it’s time for bed, little one," you said softly, as you picked her up, feeling the comforting weight of her against your chest.

seungcheol followed you to her room, where you both tucked her into bed. she snuggled into the blankets, the smile still present on her lips. "it was the best birthday ever," she murmured before closing her eyes and falling asleep. you both stood there in silence for a moment, watching her sleep, both feeling a mix of emotions—love, nostalgia, and something more, something that was bringing you closer again.

when you left the room, the silence that followed was filled with tension, but it wasn’t a bad tension. it was a tension full of possibilities, of things left unsaid. seungcheol closed the door softly, then turned to you. "she was so happy today. thank you for this, y/n."

"i was happy too, cheol," you replied, the nickname slipping out before you could stop it. he had always been "cheol" to you, and in that moment, it felt natural to call him that again.

he smiled, a smile that warmed something inside you. "i missed you," he admitted, his voice low and sincere. "not just because of our daughter, but... you. i missed us."

his words hung in the air, and you knew the moment had come. everything that had been repressed, all the unspoken words and hidden emotions, began to surface. "i missed you too," you confessed, your voice shaky. "but i was so scared, seungcheol... scared that we’d make the same mistakes again."

he took a step towards you, stopping just inches away. "i know i made mistakes, and i’m sorry for all of them. but i never stopped loving you, not for a second. and today, seeing our daughter so happy, here with you... i realized there’s still something between us, something that might be worth fighting for."

you felt your heart race at his words, at the way he was looking at you with such intensity. "are you saying... you want to try again?"

"yes," he whispered, reaching out to gently cup your face. "i want to try again. i want to be a family again. if you still want that too."

tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, unable to speak. instead, you closed the distance between you, leaning in until your lips met his. the kiss was soft, tentative, but it held the promise of so much more—a new beginning, a second chance. your bodies molded to one another with an ease that felt natural, as if all the scars and distances between you had never existed.

seungcheol pulled you closer, his hands firmly gripping your waist, and you found yourself sinking into that familiar, comforting feeling where the world around you ceased to matter. the warmth of your bodies, the feel of his touch against your skin, all of it stirred memories of times before the divorce, when you were inseparable, when the problems had not yet overshadowed the love you shared.

as the kiss deepened, the passion between the two of you reignited in an almost desperate way, as if you were trying to make up for all the lost time. seungcheol's hands traveled up your back, exploring every curve he knew so well, while you held his face, feeling the softness of his skin under your fingers. there was an urgency in his movements, as if he were trying to imprint himself in your memory, and you felt the same desire to make him understand just how much he still meant to you.

when you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, but neither of you moved away. seungcheol rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, while his fingers remained tangled in your hair. the silence between the two of you was filled with rapid breaths and the sound of hearts beating in unison, as if both of you were trying to absorb what had just happened.

"i love you, y/n. i always have," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion, the truth of his words echoing in the space between you.

you felt tears welling up again, but this time they were not of sadness, but of relief, of a renewed hope seeping into your heart. "i love you too, seungcheol. i always have. but i need to know that we won't lose ourselves again."

he opened his eyes, and what you saw there was a determination you had never seen before. his eyes, dark and intense, showed the depth of what he was feeling, the gravity of the moment. "we won't, y/n," he promised, his voice low but filled with conviction. "we'll do this right, together. for us and for our daughter. i won't let you fall again."

the intensity of his declaration made your heart pound harder. you were there, in a vulnerable place, but it was exactly what you both needed—to remember how perfectly you fit, how you were made for each other, and how, despite everything, that love still existed and was strong enough to survive.

the night continued, not with more words, but with gestures. you both let the feelings speak for themselves, rediscovering each other slowly and carefully. seungcheol's hands traced your contours as if he were rediscovering familiar territory, and at the same time, something entirely new. each touch, each caress, reignited something within you both, an old desire that had never disappeared, only lain dormant.

the intimacy between you was familiar, but there was a new layer of depth, an understanding that both of you had changed and grown, and that now you were ready to try again. the walls you had built, the hurts of the past, all seemed to vanish as you gave yourselves to one another.

when you finally nestled in bed, with seungcheol's arms firmly around you, something inside you settled. his chest was the safe haven you had lost, the place where all your fears and uncertainties seemed to disappear. the past was there, yes, but the future seemed brighter than ever, as if all the broken pieces were finally falling into place.

for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be alright. seungcheol was by your side, and you knew that together, you could overcome anything. he kissed your forehead softly, and the warmth of his touch was the confirmation that this was where you had always meant to be.

i think you would like to be informed that the second part is available. thank you for your support and patience, by the way. ( @kkkthrn @coupsbestleader @minhui896 @bouclesdefeu @lanatheawesome )

#choi seungcheol #seventeen fanfic #svt #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #scoups #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x y/n #seungcheol fluff #svt scoups

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cybrasigilism · 9 days ago

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Can you do nsfw alphabet w nam-gyu? 🤭

NSFW ALPHABET with Player 124 (Nam-gyu)

warning: smut and all things of the like, the usual | not proofread | lowercase intended | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differs from your own

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: since i have another nam-gyu request lined up and cooking in my drafts i figured this would be a great way to get comfy in writing for him. it’s nice to see some player 124 fans up in the fandom especially since he shouldn’t be getting hate for the same shit thanos was also doing (yes i know he did kill se-mi and he did lose some credit with me for that, but i fear i saw that one coming a mile away). also, THANK YOU GUYS FOR 100 FOLLOWERS? i’m genuinely blown away by the sheer amount of support y’all have given me and I’m eternally grateful :’)

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

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A= Aftercare what they’re like after sex

↳ based on how clingy he is with his friends? yeah, he’s gonna be down for a cuddle post-sex. if it’s a one and done thing though, don’t expect much in the regards of after care. at most he might offer you a smoke but he’s only super affectionate if you guys are in a relationship

B= Body part their favourite body part of theirs + their partners

↳ his and your favourite part of his body is his hands, without a doubt. his favourite part of his partner? hands down we’ve got ourselves another ass man, and who’s surprised?

C= Cum anything to do with cum, really

↳ bites his lip when he gets close (just gonna put this here and run off)

D= Dirty Secret a dirty secret of theirs

↳ really, and i mean really, loves how you look with his hands around your neck

E= Experience how experienced are they? do they know what their doing, etc.

↳ i get the impression that he’s fairly experienced, and he does know what he’s doing in the regards of rougher sex. however he does need guidance when it comes to more intimate, gentler sex

F= Favourite Position this one speaks for itself

↳ any position where you’re riding him is his favourite. he loves being able to feel you up and take as much control as he feels like, while still letting you do most of the work.

G= Goofy are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous, etc.

↳ regardless of whether he’s on top or not, he will be mocking you. it’s all out of love of course, but sometimes that can be called into question

I= Intimate how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect?

↳ it really takes a while for him to warm up to gentler fucking, especially since he’s so used to rough + sloppy one night stands. it’s always jarring to see him get vulnerable with you though

J= Jack off masturbation headcanons

↳ talks you through touching yourself OH MY GOD THIS DAMN WIND AGAIN SOMEONE SHUT THE WINDOWS-

L= Location their favourite place to do the do

↳ semi-public sex turns him on, need i say more?

M= Motivation what turns them on, gets them going?

↳ total cliche, but seeing you in revealing outfits totally gets him aroused. if you’re wearing something that hugs your ass just right, yeah you won’t be wearing it for much longer

N= No something they won’t do

↳ i don’t feel like there’s a lot this guy wouldn’t do, but if anything it’s probably pegging

O= Oral their preference on giving or receiving oral, how skilled are they, etc.

↳ couldn’t care less if he’s eating you out or if you’re sucking his dick, he’s always down for oral sex. hell, he’s probably into doing 69 but that’s for him to know, and for you to find out

P= Pace are they fast + rough? slow + sensual? etc.

↳ he’s typically going to be pretty rough, he’ll be gentle somewhat at the start if you specify that you’re a virgin but trust that the gentle act will cease quite soon into the fucking™️

Q= Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

↳ he absolutely loves quickies, there’s something about that adrenaline kick that he can’t get enough of

R= Risk are they game to experiment? how do they feel about risk?

↳ if any one of the squid game characters is down to experiment with risk, it’s nam-gyu. if he’s willing to take crazy unknown drugs from thanos in the games, he’s willing to experiment in bed

S= Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? etc.

↳ is it the drugs? is it his experience? god knows. but whatever it is, his stamina is pretty crazy. he will usually outlast you in the matter of rounds, but that might also be because of how thankless he is on your pussy

T= Toys do they own any toys? do they use them on themselves or their partner?

↳ i’m not sure he’d be the kind of guy to own crazy toys, definitely owns a couple fleshlights, and he will use vibrators on you if you bring them

U= Unfair how much they like to tease/be teased

↳ lets not kid ourselves here. he is the king of mean teasing, he’ll tease you the whole time if he feels like you deserve it

V= Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make etc.

↳ definitely not much of a moaner, more so grunts and what have you especially if he’s in control. he’ll call you his “personal fucktoy”. something i could totally see him saying while he’s fucking you is “fuck, ‘so tight for me. nice to see what a pathetic little slut you are.”

W= Wildcard a random headcanon for the character

↳ really good with his hands. he will tease your clit if he’s able

X= X-ray what’s going on under those clothes?

↳ is he super jacked? no. does he have a fair amount of muscle on him? yes absolutely. for size, he’s easily 6” hard

Y= Yearning how high is their sex drive?

↳ his sex drive is almost concerning. point blank

Z= Zzz how fast they fall asleep after

↳ don’t expect him to wait up for you. if he’s super worn out he’s heading off to snooze-ville before you do

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thanks for the request! i’ve been meaning to write for nam-gyu especially since he does not get enough recognition in the fandom :)

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a gorgeous day all 💋

tags: @gabbystinks

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game smut #fanfiction #squid game x reader #x reader fanfiction #alphabet #player 124 #x reader smut

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morimemichael · 8 months ago

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Jealousy

Slashers reaction to their s/o flirting with someone else/getting compliments from someone else.

This goes for OG!Michael, RZ!Michael, Brahms, Ghostface (Stu), Pyramid Head

WG: jealousy issues, doubtful behavior, a little gore, some NSFW, dev!consent?¿ apart from that I’ll try to include some fluff too (cause I can’t live without it :’D)

OG!Michael

You’d be mesmerized to know how many things Michael can know or find out about you.

That’s how he found out you were extra friendly with a coworker.

Maybe he hasn’t made it clear, but he didn’t have any intentions to share you with other men.

You were his and his alone.

Something inside him snap when he saw your lips kissing goodbye on this guy’s cheek.

To you was something insignificant, but to him?

Ohh boy…

He was jealous.

No need to mention that Michael slaughtered this poor guy.

He got home with you, disappointed, and a little sad for what he saw today.

You were starting to wonder where he was, it was already dark and you hadn’t seen him in all day.

Your question was answered when you felt a large hand going up your back, straight to the back of your neck.

His breathing low and steady as always.

His hand grabbed the back of your neck and squeezed it a little bit, making you move away from the kitchen, but not so far.

“Hey, Michael! Missed u today, where u been?” You asked him, not being aware that he spent almost all day stalking you

He didn’t reply, instead he moved his hand upward and grabbed you by the hair this time, tucking at it so he could whisper in your ear

“That hurts!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t care. You tried to reach his hand holding your hair, but with his free hand he catches yours and puts it behind your back twisting it.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

He tucked at your again in protest

Then you realized that he might have been stalking you throughout the day and saw that little interaction between you and your male coworker. It must be that right?

“I’m s-sorry Michael, I’m sorry, it’s not gonna happen again.” You apologized.

He lowered his head so it leveled with your right ear.

“Mine.” He whispered, his voice raspy but clear. “Say it.”

“Ok…ok, I’m yours. Only yours…” You swore. He let you go, your hands reaching the cold marble of the kitchen.

Latter that night when you both went to sleep, he apologized for the way he treated you earlier.

RZ!Michael

Things with Michael turn different when he’s jealous. First things first, sometimes you can’t tell if he’s jealous or not cause his behavior it’s almost pretty much the same.

You both know each other since you were 9yo. You were the only one who used to play with him, and he’s thankful for that. But your heart was torn apart when he committed that awful crime. You knew his sister and father were shitty, but you never expected Michael to kill them.

When you found out he scaped the mental hospital he was being kept, something inside of you wanted Michael to come see you. You weren’t so wrong after all.

So it’s been a couple of weeks since he’s staying with you, and you know better than to ask him where he goes at night, leaving you alone in the house.

There was this particular time when your ex stopped by and stayed for lunch when Michael was out stalking, as usual. Or so you thought. Turns out that he decided to stalk you this time, and when he saw this foreign man to his knowledge, he snapped.

You didn’t had time to even serve lunch when you heard your ex screaming. “Holy shit!” And he sounded in pain too.

When you came back to the living room Michael had stabbed your ex’s hand to the wooden table that was already prepared to eat.

“Michael…please.., he’s my ex.”

Michael wasn’t sure of your words, so he pulled out painfully the kitchen knife of your poor ex’s hand, a pained moan scaped his mouth. The he grabbed the doomed guy by his neck and looked at you again.

“Michael, Michael, please…I swear he’s my ex. Please!!!” You begged him.

Michael decided enough was enough and let your ex go, but not before pointing you to go upstairs with his knife. You obeyed.

Once you both were there he grabbed you by the throat this time and squeezed a little bit. Now you were scared. He tucked a little bit just to let you know that if he want to, he could kill you any minute.

He bend you over the edge of the bed so your stomach was facing towards the bed, and your ass up.

“how romantic” You mocked. To be honest this wasn’t the first time you two fucked. But this? Holy fuck, this was totally different. You weren’t even sure if you’re disliking this.

“I’m not sharing.” He growled at your ear. He took out your pijamas and panties with one hand, with the other he took out his mask. He positioned himself with your entrance. Spit a little bit his cock to use it as lube.

He grabbed you by your neck again and put it the tip of his cock.

“Michael, I’m not even-” You protested, reaching your right hand to his leg to try to stop him, but he grabbed it and pulled it against him so you were closer to his chest.

“Shut up, and fucking take it.” That’s all he said before thrusting all the way into you. He set a brutal pace and all he could hear was your screams and moans of pleasure.

“Fu-uck Michael!! Don’t stop, don’t stop!!” You moaned. He got closer to your ear again.

“This is what you get for making me jealous.”

You thought you could make him jealous more often.

BRAMHS HEELSHIRE

“Brahms!” You moan your lungs out. He had you lay down facing the bed, and now he was fingering you like his life depends on that.

And all for what? Well, you told Malcom earlier that he had a nice hair cut today. Apparently, Brahms didn’t like that.

He slapped your ass with his free hand “Your mine, mine!” He growled on your ear.

“Okay…okay, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…I bet you are.” He stated, his fingers moving faster now.

You were reaching the point of your climax when he stopped, and pulled at your hair.

“You wanna cum?” He asked. You nod and hummed. “Well, beg for it.” He slapped your ass again.

“Please…I’m so close.” You begged vaguely.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” He replied, voice deeper now, filled with pure lust.

“Brahms, please…please I wa-I need to cum, please! I won’t do it again I promise!”

His fingers thrusting into your core in a brutal animalistic way. That was enough to make you cum that night.

Once you were finish he grabbed you by the hair again and said “if I see you again with him, his dead. You hear me?” He question.

“Yeah-yeah.” That’s all that would come out from your mouth.

PYRAMID HEAD

This big guy had never talked and never will, so if something just bothers him he will let you know in other ways.

Like when, for example, James complimented your bracelet one day. He was pissed, but he didn’t say anything, not that he could. So what did he do instead?

Well, he fallowed James all around Silent Hill making his life more miserable if that’s was even possible.

You weren’t exactly pissed at his behavior but you certainly didn’t like it. So next time he sees you you’ll let him know.

To your fortune that time was right now.

“Is tormenting James even necessary, Pyramid?” You asked annoyed.

He lowers his head and shakes no.

“So, why are you doing it?” He couldn’t answer you knew it so you asked him again. “Is it because you’re jealous of James?”

He shakes his head no several times, trying to hide the obvious feeling .

“Yeah…you definitely are.” You said.

He lowered his head again and was ready to leave when you grabbed his large hand.

“You can stay, it’s okay. It happens.” You smiled at him. From under his large pyramid, something like a tentacle came out to caress your chin.

“Promise me you won’t do it again, ok?”

He just nods and walk away peacefully.

GHOSTFACE

Since you two finished watching that movie, you wouldn’t stop talking about the killer.

How he was using a kitchen knife to kill people on the movie, or how he used his own hands to choke someone. You could notably see he was pissed at your comments of appreciation.

“Oh come on! I’m just messing around!” You laughed at him. He couldn’t be mad just because of that right?

“Well, go messing around Michael Myers then, perhaps he will burie his knife in you.” Stu said back.

“Stu come on! It’s just a movie!” You laughed a little bit

“If it’s just a movie don’t make me jealous!” He confessed.

“Jealous?” You giggle, then tried to hug him.

“N-no, no, you go hug Michael, he needs it more than I do.” Stu’s voice faking a sad tone. “Or go kiss his mask instead, cause apparently you don’t like mine anymore….ouch.” He continued.

“Well, if you say so…then I’m heading to Haddonfield then!” You said smiling to wait his reaction.

“No babe, don’t leave, I was just kidding.” He pouted, grabbing your hand so you wouldn’t leave.

“Ok..I promise to not saying anything like that again about Michael, if you promise to not get jealous.” You offered.

“Deal.” Stu replied smiling.

“I’m starving, wanna order some pizza?” He offered.

“Hell yeah.” You said, pizza didn’t sound that bad.

“Besides…I like your costume better.” You confessed.

“Ohh…” Stu was flattered, and couldn’t help but blush a little bit.

After that, you ate your pizza and cuddle all night, you being the smaller spoon. You quickly fell asleep in Stu’s warm arms.

Well I needed a little bit of humor with ghostie okay? 😭 I hope you liked it! See ya around 😊

#brahms heelshire #ghostface #michael myers #brahms heelshire x reader #ghostface x reader #michael myers x reader #halloween #pyramid head #slashers #silent hill #pyramid head x reader #stu matcher x reader #scream #the boy #the boy 2016 #halloween 2007

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scarfacemarston · 3 months ago

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Bucky Barnes A-Z Fluff Alphabet!

Feel free to send in more requests for Bucky! Please think about "liking" and reblogging! These things take time. Also, I included a lot of 1940s Bucky as a comparison.

A - Affection (how do they show affection to their s/o)

Bucky has always been physically affectionate, but this changed after escaping his time in Hydra captivity. He's slowly beginning to experience positive touches again and quickly discovered how touch-starved he is, so physical touch is a significant way he shows affection, but there are days when he'll request not to be touched. He tries to be encouraging and complimentary, but he feels like it comes across as awkward and stilted. He'll try for quality time, but he does worry if he's overstaying his welcome. However, he does become less anxious as time goes on.

B - Best Friend (what are they like as a best friend?)

Look at Steve, for example! He's loyal to a fault. He will put his friend's well-being way beyond his own. He considers himself less of a decent friend than before, but he's wrong. He's just as great a friend as he used to be. He's just as loyal and self-sacrificing. He will drop everything the moment you need help. The only reason he is ever distant is because he doesn't believe he's worthy of friendship, and his anxiety and depression get in the way. He will always doubt himself, but again, it improves in time.

C - Cuddling (do they like to cuddle? And how would they do it?)

Yes, physical touch with those he trusts is a soothing balm for him. He's always loved it when someone played with his hair, or he could hold hands, place an arm around his partner's waist - he loves it all, so loving to cuddle is really no surprise. He occasionally doesn't want to be touched, and that space is important to him, but otherwise, he'd be happy to be cuddled basically any time. It doesn't matter what position - he loves them all, but his favorite is lying on his back with your head on his chest.

D - Domestic (do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning)

In the 40s, he was expected to settle down at some point and probably would have in some form after the war. He still feels as though he has these expectations today, but it's more of a ghost memory than anything else. He'd be surprised that someone wants that with him - unless it's Steve. If it's Steve, he's not surprised at all and would consider it a continuation of their lives in Brooklyn. With a new partner, he can be convinced to settle down; he just wants to be sure that it's what you want. He knows how to clean and can cook simple meals, as we see in Romania. In the 30s and 40s, it was very much bachelor food like canned soup and a relatively clean, if not bare, apartment. Bucky can be a combination of messy and neat. It depends on his mental health. However, his residence is so devoid of decor that it's hard to make it messy. (This is seen with the comics as well.) He does improve when you move in with him. He enjoys cooking now in comparison to the 40s.

E - Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He's very quiet but very gentle and kind about it. He doesn't expect you to understand why, and he is hard on himself for breaking it off. He is more likely to break it off because of his own self-doubt, but he does have boundaries that, if broken - he will break it off. He expects you to hate him afterward and understands if you do, but his mind will not change.

F - Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

In the 40s, Bucky loved dating around - he wasn't a himbo, but he did enjoy pursuing different people. He didn't want to settle down yet - unless it was with Steve, which was something he didn't want to think about logistically. However, he doesn't take commitment for granted nowadays and realizes how valuable it can be. He's not sure about marriage as it's nothing he ever really thought about outside of his mother reminding him he "should" get married, but if it feels right and it's discussed, he might be convinced.

G - Gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Bucky is very methodological physically and emotionally speaking. He is very tender and careful, but steady physically speaking.He is especially careful with his prosthetic. Emotionally, he is stronger than one would expect. He isn't a pushover, and will defend himself or anyone else who needs defending, but he is gentler now than before he was the Winter Soldier.

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Once there's trust between you, yes. He loves hugs. He loved them in the 40s, and he loves them now. He definitely loves to be greeted with a hug and likes to give you a hug before he leaves somewhere, like a mission or therapy. They're very firm but gentle.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would take Bucky a while before he said he loved you. The problem is, he either plans how he'll say it—his preference—or accidentally blurts it out in an especially tender moment and then dies of embarrassment. I would say it takes about half a year, but it really depends on your bond.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

The 1940s Bucky could get quite jealous. It wasn't a toxic masculinity thing, but it was definitely something he sometimes struggled with. He was never abusive about it, EVER, but it was something that bothered him, as seen with The First Avenger. Nowadays, he's less likely to be jealous because his confidence levels are a bit lower than before, but the more robust your bond, the more likely he is to get jealous because the two of you put so much work into it. He is definitely the type to give the death glare to end all death glares, make a snide comment, or generally find a way to stay by your side.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

It really depends on his mood, as it does with anyone. Sometimes, he can give playful kisses, peppering them all over your face as he refuses to let go, or they can be slow and tender, full of meaning and gratefulness, or they can be scorching, searing, and passionate.

L: Little Ones (How are they with kids?)

Bucky has always been good with kids, even in the 40s, and that's thanks in part to having three little sisters. We also see the children in Wakanda love him. He's very relaxed and more himself around children. In the 40s, his mother used to harass him about when he'd give her grandkids.

M: Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

In the 40s, it was getting up at the crack of dawn to work at the docks for 9-12 hour shifts, with him sleeping in late on the weekends. Now, he still sleeps late because he feels like he doesn't have anything else to do. However, given a routine and responsibilities like helping the Avengers or going on missions, he is more likely to keep a decent schedule. It's also his insomnia that causes him to sleep in more, but not as late as he used to. Now, he'll spend the mornings trying to coax you to stay in bed with him, whether that's through cuddles or fun. ; )

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Again, insomnia is his worst enemy. He tends to take late-night walks or read late into the night before staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep. Now, he does those things, but he can also enjoy sex with you, cuddling, or watching something stupid on TV.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Bucky was semi-open about himself in the 40s, but he was actually more likely to ask about you than about him. Sure, he'd talk about his family, Steve, or his work, but that was about it. However, that was partially the toxic belief that men just don't reveal everything about themselves. Now, it's more about feeling safe to do so and what is "too much." What will chase you away? When will it happen? However, as usual, with trust, this changes, and while there is much he will never reveal, he slowly opens up.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He could be a bit fiery in the 40s, but nothing compared to Steve. He was a saint in comparison to Steve. His anger is more biting and calling someone out, maybe raising his voice in the 40s. Now, it's more stormy and quiet. It can be biting, though, and there are still elements of him from the 40s with snide comments - but he hates to fight and would prefer to do anything to prevent it, or if there has to be a fight - find a resolution as soon as possible.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail in passing, or do they kind of forget? )

In the 40s, he tried to remember as much as he could and actually impressed people with how thoughtful he could be. He remembered everything about Steve, his sisters, and the commandos, but also things about his enemies. Nowadays, he struggles with his memory, but he sometimes writes important things in his journal so he can remember them. However, the will is there, and he tries very hard.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you watched a movie together and you put your head on his shoulder. It was the first time someone had done that to him since before he fell off the train. That moment turned into full on cuddling during the movie and he was so anxious - but giddy, that he couldn't focus on the movie.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

1940s Bucky was very protective in about every way imaginable, but especially in the stereotypical 1940s ways. However, Bucky now isn't entirely too different from that. The main difference is that he is a little more modern in how he views women and that he is a bit more physically protective. Unsurprisingly, he is very concerned someone from his past might harm you. He's the type that wants you to text him when you get home safely and has similar habits. Emotionally, he has no problem standing up for you. It's something he's always been good at.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, and gifts?)

He's always been thoughtful about dates, anniversaries, and gifts from childhood to now. He never had much money, so every penny had to count. If he couldn't buy something, he would plan extensively for just the right type of event to attend. With dates, he was a bit more traditional and knew what worked, like dinner and a movie or the carnival, but that doesn't mean he didn't put thought into it. Bucky is the same now, except perhaps even more thoughtful about it. He was always observant, but now he listens more than he talks, whereas before, it was the opposite. He may have more money now, but he prefers to put a lot of thought into what he gets you or something that can help you. Nowadays, he overthinks what he should do for a date or anniversary, but it's always wonderful even when things don't go as planned.

U: Ugly (What would be a bad habit of theirs?)

His self depreciation is pretty bad. His low self confidence also tends to get in the way of things - but it is of no fault of his own! As for an actual habit, he grinds his teeth and clenches his jaw too often giving him jaw pain.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Bucky could be quite vain in the 40s and spent quite a bit of time on his hair. He didn't have a choice about his appearance as the Winter Soldier and afterwards, he was too focused on survival and blending in to really care about his appearance. He is trying to get more into self care habits and rituals and you encourage him to spend time on himself, but he doesn't care like he once did.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Bucky was surrounded by people in the 40s so he would notice it less if his partner was gone, but he would still feel it! I just think he would bounce back quicker depending on how the relationship was while with Bucky now; he always tries to prepare for the worst and prepare himself for if you do leave him. He would survive, but he would feel like a light was extinguished.

X: Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Bucky really misses the Indiana house he had to sell. He really wanted to stay there, build a community, and potentially raise a family there, but it wasn't meant to be. (This is more comic verse-esque)

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Bucky used to be a stomach sleeper, but that quit when he joined the army. It was too uncomfortable to sleep on his stomach then. It's not as easy with his prosthetic, but he still sleeps on his stomach sometimes. (This is canon for Comic Bucky.)

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sukunas-wife · 11 months ago

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hhey, I accidentally came across your channel and read everything that was there, it's too good. could you write a story about how Yuji grows up? how he starts fighting with opponents or something like that :D?

I suck at writing fighting I’m sorry 😭 I’m terrible honestly so I did it in a different way I apologize in advance 🥺🤍

Yuji growing up UNDER SUKUNA IS CRAZY because 1 Ryomen’s cursed presence is so strong that Yuji’s cursed energy happened to be tied up all cute and pretty with a little cursed energy ribbon made of Sukuna’s cursed energy.

The integration of the two led Yuji to be able to use Malevolent Shrine

🥹 Made his daddy proud the day the three of you were outside and someone tried to ambush your little family, Yuji’s eyes widened seeing his dad calmly bring his hands together “Domain Expansion, Malevolent Shrine.”

The world flashed before Yuji’s eyes with the sound of a bell and drip. It was after that moment when everything was clear little ⅘ year old Yuji pushed his hands together mimicking his father trying to be cool “Domain expansion! Malevolent Shrine!”

Neither you nor Sukuna expected it to work, until it did-

There was Sukuna protecting you from Yuji’s unstable barely registering domain. After everything was said and done. The two of you couldn’t help but look at each other. “Did… did he” Sukuna let you go, “Yuji..”

Yuji ran at his dad with the biggest smile, screaming “did you see that!? Did you!? Did you!?” When Sukuna picked him up, throwing him up into the air, “I did! We need to talk about your little domain.”

That’s where he started his training under his father because he knew no one else could train him as well as he could. It evolved to Yuji being able to use his own energy in fighting. It was the cutest thing seeing your son's little fist while he punched away at some poor little punching bag with his father there mocking him to get him angry to put more curse behind his hits.

“Aw, this sack of sand too much for you brat? Move- I’ll show you how to really put some curse behind it.”

Yuji watched how his dad pinned the punching sack to post and took a fighting stance, in his eyes he could see the red cursed energy glowing skeins his fathers fists and when he struck it was over. The post and sack were nothing, “I WANNA DO THAT!”

It was a beautiful and cursed sight, Ryomen Yuji, (the name changes based on how my brain works I’m sorry 🥹) , he had softer features, but he had developed similar markings to his father. The only thing keeping him from being his father was the vast size difference. He had even taken to using a robe similar to his dads older style.

Ryomen Yuji wasn’t a tyrant, but if he turned out, he very much could be just a cruel man as his father.

Especially when Jujutsu Sorcerer started to trail after him thinking if they could kill the son the father would bend.

They laid corrected in their own pools of blood.

His first solo fight was when he had turned 15 and he asked if he could go to the town to gay a few things of his own. You were weary feeling something was bound to happen, Sukuna pulled you into his side assuring you there is no doubt in his mind Yuji would be able to take care of himself, he would know, he trained him for the last eleven years.

So you let him leave, he was surrounded not too soon before reaching the village, “IT'S RYOMEN SUKUNA!”

His eyes were quick to move around the group “FOOL THAT'S NOT RYOMEN SUKUNA THAT'S-… even better, Ryomen Sukuna may be a monster but even then this boy looks well enough to know someone has to give a damn about him, we need to restrict him.”

There was Yuji imbuing his cursed energy into his fists, it was a scene to watch how he could punch through a man's chest like silk tofu. How easily he could take a man’s head in his hand digging his fingers into their back around their spine to separate them entirely.

He was ágile, being attacked from both sides by men with cursed tools. Blades on chains, swinging in opposing directions grazing his chest and back as he turned to doing his best to avoid them, he took one chain wrapping it around his hand and turning his back to that man pulling the chain I’ve this shoulder sending the man flying into the air. He turned facing the second who was still running at him catching him by taking his face in his hand and crushing his face in , taking the 2nd man’s blade he spun the chain around before slinging the blade at the falling sorcerer piercing his skull leaving him to fall dead to the ground. He carried on with brute force until another wave of Sorcerer's came, he was huffing but he was thrilled, every year of training, every technique and day spent bleeding, fighting and pouring every ounce of energy and raw brute strength and cursed energy.

“Domain Expansion” it felt like time froze, “Malevolent Shrine.”

Yuji’s domain wasn’t as vast as his fathers, but was equally intimidating. There he stood on the pile of skulls in front of the shrine, hands pressed together, “You will see true power.”

It felt like the domain shook when he uttered the simple word “..cleave…” It was a sure hit taking out every living being in the area.

—- —- —- —-

But of course, like father, like son. When Sukuna was going to leave you to go tend to “business” Yuji begged to go, leaving you home with Anya and for a girls week which turned to a girls month.

During this month your boys had learned one thing in battle, they could merge their domains in a way no one else would ever be able to.

Sukuna had heard rumours of some prestigious clan that wanted his head, and if its head they wanted, he decided he’d personally deliver it personally into their city and into their pathetic little lives. Why wait for the fight to come to his home and put his little family at risk when he could go to the fight and strike while the steel is hot and brittle.

That was until Yuji started to beg to go, no matter how many times Sukuna would tell him no he would persist he go with his father. Finally after talking to you, and even when you didn’t want to let him go, Yuji begged and begged using his little puppy eyed beg you caved and said if either of them came back hurt or didn’t come back at all you would remarry and forget about both of them. It was a bluff but the jealousy was enough to make Sukuna squint at you before whacking Yuji on the back of his head lightly, “Let’s go brat, the sooner we get this done the sooner we come back home and your mother won’t roll in her grave.”

Still Sukuna pulled you into him by your waist and kissed you making Anya and Yuji exaggeratedly “eewww” before he left.

They warped quickly now that Sukuna was in a snappy mood, “pfft, remarry, that woman couldn’t find a man worth one of my- oh?”

It was as if the invasion was anticipated, Sukuna used a lower arm to push Yuji behind him, “Stand back brat, I said you could come, I never said you could fight.” It was an instant, every archer and swordsmen surrounding the two had either been cleaved or lit a light. ”Now we’re really going to have some fun.��

Yuji trailed after his father watching how he barreled through everything and everyone with no regard, his actions were quick and precise. He made their way straight to the centre of the shinden-zukuri with ease. Yuji was astounded, his father would always make minimal movement with maximum damage, but this was different, he was just showing off. They were surrounded and the room was suffocating with the large amounts or pressure from cursed energy flowing. He backed up to Sukuna, and they stood back to back, Yuji was ready to fight, Sukuna was amused and having the time of his life, he would win and there was no doubt in his mind. The two fought in a way that reminded Sukuna of the day you fought by his side. A side of you not even his children would ever know. They danced in circles, taking life after life until they were forced closer, as if they had the same unspoken idea both of them expanded their domain not letting the other know.

The world shook in the wake of the combined domain, the humans witnessing the ethereal domain would die without fail.

The shrines combined to make a full size Sanmon gate, strikingly similar to the former shrine. The only difference was that Sukuna stood there like the god Vishnu, Two hands holding his domain symbol just above Yuji’s height level, the other two holding his tools up and on display, Yuji was a step below him with hands in the matching domain form. The two shared a single brain cell in that moment, “Malevolent Temple.”

It had no barrier, it turned into an open space, the hits were guaranteed. In the end when every living thing in the vicinity was reduced to nothing and the domain closed, it came to show even the former shinden-zukuri has been reduced to dust on the ground.

What he would’ve stretched over days of fun they had completed in mere seconds. But now that his eyes had been opened to this new found power he was intrigued and needed to know more.

This led to Sukuna dragging Yuji around with him to test the limits of their new found glory for weeks until he finally allowed Yuji to return home. You weren’t frantic when they returned because Uraume had calmed your beating heart once a week with the messenger birds you had begged him to take along. But you were scared because Sukuna did not slip into bed as he usually would, instead he scooped you up, threw you over his shoulder and brought you outside with him, “Let’s go woman.” Was all you heard as you were shaken awake and met with the morning's cold air, “kuna, love, I’m so tired.”

You felt Sukuna land a smack on your rump, “Just five minutes and I’ll carry you back.” You did your best to look back at him and you caught him looking back at you with a smug smile, “fine.”

He sat you on the steps to your home, where you saw Yuji, he had that look of excitement, his eyes were gleaming the way they would as a child when he’d see his father use a new technique.

��Mom! Mom! You’re going to love this!” You smiled as Sukuna rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand letting it slip from his hold as he made his way back to Yuji.

Tag List: Permanent because this doesn’t feel very squishy 🥺

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz

@simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @anyaswlrd @cyder-puff

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fallingdownhell · 2 years ago

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Hello!! If your requests are open do you have any plans on writing something similar to genshin men forgetting your birthday but with different characters? :D maybe diluc and/or kaeya for example

Sure can do! Angst will always be my favourite!

Characters Included: Diluc; Kaeya

Content: gender neutral reader; hurt/no comfort; angst; the boys don't realize their mistakes; cursing; not proofread yet

Word count: 1,3k words

Enjoy the heartbreak<3

Diluc

Being with Diluc was exhausting sometimes. And sometimes, it felt like you were in no relationship to begin with. You knew that protecting the city and it's people was important to Diluc, but.. sometimes you just wished to be his number one...

Sometimes, you really wonder how you managed to stay in this relationship for three long years without any issue.. then again, its not like it has always been this way.

The first two years were amazing. Diluc was an attentive lover, always concerned about your well being, that you felt comfortable with him. Only recently did that seem to change. He had less and less time for you, always coming back home in the dead of night and left before you woke up in the morning.

You tried to deal with it somehow, since talking to him about it was apparently no option, seeing as he always pushed you away when you tried approaching the topic with him.

But today... today might just be your last straw..

In all the three years with him, Diluc has always made it a point to make your birthday a most special occaison. Telling you weeks in advance to clear this day up since he wanted to spend it with you. He always planned something different, but you loved it each time.

This year, however, nothing came from him. No notice to keep your calender clean, nothing.

You thought, that when you spotted him in bed next to you this morning, maybe you just thought wrong and he wanted to surprise you.

But when he woke up, no words of gartulations left his mouth. Instead, he simply got up, got dressed and went out again, but not before telling you that he would be back for dinner tonight.. which was a rare occaison as well.

You tried so hard to give him the benefit of the doubt.. going about your day at the mansion, going on a walk in the nice, afternoon soon as people from the Dawn Winery congratulated you for your special day. You thanked them, while trying to keep your composure.

Nothing meant anything to you when the person closest to you didn't remember it themselves...

Night came, and with it came dinner time. Adelinde took the time out of her day to prepare a full on five course meal, all consisting of your favourite dishes. You told her multiple times that this wasn't necessary at all, but she wouldn't have it. So, as fate would have it, you were now enjoying the food... however, alone.

Diluc has yet to show up, but not wanting to let the food get cold, you decided to just start eating.

Later on, you realized that the dissapointment washing over you didn't even face you anymore, having expected this outcome already.

So, you ate quietly, until the door to the mansion opened, revealing the owner of Dawn Winery himself.

"Diluc!", you exlaimed, standing up from your seat, a smile on your lips. He came after all...

But he immediately put a damper on your mood as he raised his hand, a deep sigh escaping him as he threw his coat off.

"Please, not now, (name). I'm exhausted."

With that, he went directly for the staircase, not even acknowloding anything else around him.

"But.. don't you wanna join in for dinner? There's a lot left and-!"

"I said, not now!", he suddenly yelled at you.

You were shocked, looking at him like a deer caught in headlight. Regret briefly washed over him for raising his voice at you, but he chose not to say anything. Instead, he turned around again and made his way up the stairs where he immediately went into his office, looking himself away from you again.

You watched after him, slumping back into your chair as he was out of sight. You tried so desperately to hold back your tears but they came crashing out of you as soon as you saw Adelinde leave the kitchen, a big birthday cake in her hands.

She gave you a weak, sympathetic smile as she sat down next to you on a chair, patting your back gently as you let the dissapointment sink in..

Kaeya

You were maneuvering your way through the many people in your living room, trying to get to your balcony, hoping to get some fresh air and clear your thoughts.

Lisa planned this whole thing perfectly. Keeping you busy the entire day with her while everyone else was preparing your surprise birthday party in your home.

You had not expected anything like that, especially not after the dissapointment you recieved this morning already. Kaeya has never once failed to remember any special day during your relationship. Be it a birthday, an anniversary or anything like that. You never had to remind him, he just always knew and was prepared.

So, naturally, you didn't feel the need to remind him that your birthday was coming up, thinking that he was already aware of that fact.

However, when you woke up this morning, everything was far too normal. He was still sleeping beside you, cuddling with you for a few more minutes, before you both got up and he left for work.

No congratulations, no gift, no nothing. He didn't say anything at all...

You were feeling kinda down after that, slumping around in your home.. That's when Lisa came over and practically forced you out the house. She congratulated you, then took you shopping, to lunch and so on.

She kept you busy the entire day and the incident with you boyfriend went farther and farther to the back of your mind.

That was, until you returned back to your house. Suddenly, the lights switched on before you could even do anything. People jumping out from all around, yelling "Surprise!", at you, while laughing at your flabbergasted reaction.

A surprise party.. now Lisa's behaviour made sense to you. Your mood lightened up, thinking that it must have been Kaeya's doing and planning.

You thanked everyone that came up to congratulate you, making small talk with them while trying to scan the people for your boyfriend. When you didn't see him anywhere, you went to ask Lisa about him, but she said she had no idea where he was..

This dampened your mood again, so you decided to get some fresh air, maybe that would help cool you off again.

As you were outside on the balcony, you saw Kaeya approaching your shared home. Excited, you went inside again to meet him at the front door. But when you opened it, you were met with a seemingly bad mood from your boyfriend.

Before you could ask him what was going on, he already started complaining. "Seriously? Are you for real?"

"What?", you just said, confused on what he meant. But that just seemed to frustrate Kaeya even more.

"So, everyone leaves work, leaving all of it for me to deal with, just because you decided to throw a fucking party? I've had a fucking exhausting day, (name). How do you expect me to relax with this many people here, huh?"

"I-It wasn't my-!"

"Oh, don't give me that crap! Who else if not you would plan such a thing, and in our house as well? You know what, I'm gonna leave. I'll sleep somewhere else for the night!"

And before you could say anything else, he had already turned on his heels and was walking away. You had no idea what this was about and what caused his outburst..

You were so confused about what was going on, but you felt the tears running down your face as you fell on your knees right there at the open front door while the party was still going behind you...

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neontokyoo · 6 months ago

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Hello I saw your post about fic request and I'm here to humbly ask you if you'd write anything with Halsin and a pregnant partner (Tav) after the epilogue party.

@amorgansgal and me both wrote a little something about how he would be at the party and that kinda brought my thoughts back to that whole thing.

I'm thinking some domestic fluff, or maybe how the companions would react, would they visit/ come over to care for the soon-to-be-growing-family, who's gonna be the cool uncle and/ or wine aunt and the likes of that.

Of course I'd also take anything with smut, I'm enthusiastically on board with anything Halsin related :D

Anyway, if you get around to writing a lil something, I'd be very happy! <3

of course! I love my bear-man! This is quite possibly one of my cutest requests I have ever gotten. Hopefully my heart is still functioning in one piece by the time I finish this 😂

Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav Genre: fluff Summary: After finally defeating the Netherbrain Tav finds herself expecting Halsin’s baby. Which, unfortunately, the rest of the party was able to find out about fairly quickly. Warnings: possible mentions of (bear) sex and bg3 spoilers.

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Everyone at the party after the final battle knew that there was something different about Tav. They couldn’t quite wrap their heads around it, but they could tell something was going on.

Perhaps it was the extra weight she gained, or the way she waddles when she walks. But they definitely knew something was up. Especially when Halsin was beaming every time he saw Tav, or occasionally wrapping his arms around her waist with his hands resting on her stomach. It wasn’t until then that they realized what it was.

Tav was pregnant.

“Hmm, do you think that the child would come out as a bear or a person?” Astarion snickered. “That sounds like quite the interesting—and painful—delivery for Tav.”

“That’s enough of that.” Gale grumbled, elbowing the vampire’s shoulder. “I highly doubt their offspring will be a bear. Halsin isn’t even completely a bear.”

“No, but he’s a man-bear,” the vampire replied matter-of-factly. “Who knows, maybe they got down and dirty in bear form,” he shrugged, “it’s always a possibility.”

“That’s not a weird way to think about your friends at all,” Shadowheart muttered. “But I’m pretty sure their baby is not going to be a bear. They might not even be a Druid like Halsin is, so the chances of them being a bear are pretty slim.”

“I love how we’re arguing about whether the child is a bear or a person,” Karlach chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Usually it’s an argument about whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

The group continued their banter, only to go completely silent when the couple in question came in to view.

The couple held hands as they talked to each other in the distance, close enough for the group to stop talking so they’re not overheard, but far enough for the group to not hear their conversation.

Tav looked at her boyfriend, laughing to herself as she glanced over at the rest of her companions. “Do you think they know?”

Halsin couldn’t help but smirk as he laughed along with her. “They definitely know about it if they’re arguing over if it’s going to be a bear or not.”

“Then there’s no point in telling them?”

The elf shook his head as he looked at the group with an amused expression, visible fear on their faces as they realized Halsin knew what they were talking about. “No, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

A sudden light blush spread across Tav’s cheeks as the realization hit her. “But how in the nine hells do they know that I fucked you as a bear?!”

Halsin shrugged.

“You guys are just so fucking loud, we could hear the roars from camp!” Astarion shouted, overhearing parts of the conversation as they got closer.

The couple burst out laughing.

“Well, looks like we’ll need to go even deeper into the woods next time.” Halsin chuckled.

“If we go any deeper we might run out of woods!” Tav exclaimed.

Halsin smiled, turning to meet Tav’s gaze as he pulled a strand of hair out of her face and pulled her in for a quick kiss.

“At least we know that it’s not a bear baby.”

Extra headcanons:

The pregnancy was planned and Tav and Halsin have been thinking about it for a long time before they decided it was something they really wanted to do.

Astarion and Gale are constantly fighting over the baby after it’s born.

Karlach, Astarion, and (possibly) Minthara are the rich wine aunts who like to gossip with the kid about all the drama going on in their life as they get older.

Gale, Wyll, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart are the cool uncles who spoil the child and teach them how to defend themselves.

Halsin has a soft spot for girls. I personally just see him being the biggest girl dad.

when the baby was born, Tav and Halsin had to distance themselves from the rest of the party because they were never able to see their child when they had all their companions together.

Gale teaches the child magic.

Lae’zel, Wyll, and Karlach teach the child how to fight.

Astarion teaches them how to sneak around, steal without getting caught, and break into locked doors.

Shadowheart teaches them how to help protect themselves and the people around them

Tav and Halsin try to teach their kid that half of what they’re being taught is not okay. They don’t want their children sneaking around and picking fights 😂

163 notes · View notes

chronically-ghosted · 1 year ago

Text

in another life . . .

rating: explicit, 18+

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

word count: 7K

summary: Partner. That word had been jammed up inside his brain for as long as he could remember. Gym-class partner, lab partner, work-out partner, partner-in-training, partner in this fucking life or death situation where we’re only going to get out alive if we trust each other more than I trust myself. And then he met you and the definition changed again.

warnings: domestic!frankie, marriage kink (if that’s a thing), oral (f receiving) but i think that’s an expectation from every frankie fic, improper use of a kitchen table, unprotected piv, no use of y/n, brief mentions of PTSD, improper use of Spanish, eating in bed

a/n: requested for my 100 followers event! Anon: hiiii firstly! congrats on the big one hundo you totally deserve it 🥂‼️ secondly wondering if I could rq a Pedro boy drabble with prompt number 12... I wanna do laundry for Frankie Morales :D “did you just wash these sheets?” “I did.” “they smell nice. and they’re still warm.”

🤍Masterlist

. . . I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

Frankie fills the silence of the house without you in it with music. This house, it had been your choice, even though he never expressly made you choose, or even presented the dichotomy. This house, with its leaky faucet and janky AC unit and finicky pilot light, was what you wanted instead of a diamond ring, and so he gave it to you. First down payment, along with every other red cent you and he had both saved up, went into buying your first home together. This wasn’t forever, you both agreed (with only two bedrooms it wasn’t enough room for a baby, he often thought) but even as the real estate agent glanced around with disdain for the house and your budget, one look from you and it was settled.

“It has good bones,” you said, standing out on the concrete deck overlooking a postage-stamp-sized backyard. There were weeds in the corners and holes from some unknown animal but he could see the wheels in your head turning, imagining how you, like everything else you did, planned to tackle and wrestle control over it with your bare hands. “It needs work, but I think there’s something special here.”

“Yeah?” he asked, threading his fingers through yours, the real estate agent no doubt off somewhere inspecting the drains. “Is there something here?”

You grinned and shoved your nose then a soft press of your lips into his denim-shoulder.

“I’m sure of it.”

All his life, Frankie worked best in a unit. As children, his older brother, his younger brother, and him were practically inseparable, their physical similarities almost presenting as the same person but at different ages, and when that group disbanded because Oscar left for college, he went on to find another one. First, his army unit, then the boys. His boys. Left to his own devices, Frankie was terrible at remembering to eat, sleep regularly – focus on anything other than fixing cars and planes, really – but he’d do it for them. He hated to see that worried crease show up on Will’s brow when Frankie admitted he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He hated that Benny had to show up at his apartment to drag his ass outta bed to get him into the sunlight. And he hated when Pope felt obligated to take him out to bars to try and meet women.

“I’m not dating someone just so they can be my mother,” Frankie muttered into the lip of his beer bottle. “I don’t need anyone thinking I need to rely on them like that.”

“Yeah, but you do better when you have people relying on you.” Pope’s dark eyes flitted from a woman at the bar top to him, with intention and full of force. “And I’m not saying I’m trying to get you to fuck your mother, but you need a partner.”

Partner.

That word had been jammed up inside his brain for as long as he could remember. Gym-class partner, lab partner, work-out partner, partner-in-training, partner in this fucking life or death situation where we’re only going to get out alive if we trust each other more than I trust myself.

And then he met you and the definition changed again.

You are his best friend. You are the woman he wants to fuck every day for the rest of his life. You are the first person he wants to tell good news to and the first person he wants to talk to when he’s had a shitty day. Your voice quiets something inside him that has been far too loud for far too long. You are a relief and a refuge. For all his faults, you love him and sometimes he can’t fathom why.

You are his partner – in life, in marriage (one day), and forever (he hopes).

“I might not always like you, Catfish,” you said to him in Will’s backyard for Benny’s birthday party. You had been drinking and every sip seems to bring you closer and closer to him. With your face tucked up into his neck, arms up under his flannel and hugging his waist, the only way he could be physically closer to you was if he was inside you – which he was about two seconds away from suggestion when you leaned in close. “‘M not always going to like you, but ‘m always going love you.”

And love him you did. You loved him when he decided to go back to school to get some additional certifications so he could maybe teach flight school. The army would pay for most of it, was a fucking relief to your shared thread-bare, cartoon-spider-web empty savings account. But what the army would not pay for was for you to go to nursing school. You worked in hotels for the events services branch, coordinating everything from weddings to conferences, walking (mostly running) from one end of the hotel to the next. Your sister got you a Fitbit for Christmas one year and after the holiday rush, you walked twenty miles in two days.

“After that, this nursing stuff should be a breeze,” you said flippantly as you signed your paperwork for admissions.

Of course you got accepted at one of the better hospitals in the city – he never doubted for a second you would – and as the fresh-faced trainee, you got stuck with most of the night shifts.

Which meant his days looked a lot like this: wake up at 6AM, drive an hour to the helicopter tour building on the coast, fly rich idiots around all day, eat the lunch you had prepped for the both of you on Sunday night, continue flying rich idiots around, drive home in two-hour traffic, change into his work overalls, go work on some cars Benny’s buddy had at the local garage for some extra cash, then go home, heat up dinner you also made Sunday night, and then attend to the most pressing thing you or the house needed.

Which could be:

Fixing the AC unit, resealing the back door so it would close properly, re-caulking the shower, building more attic space, repainting the back fence, or replacing the hand towel holder.

Frankie didn’t mind the hard work. It kept his mind and his hands busy. What he did mind was the house silent and eerily empty without you here.

He didn’t mind the hard work because even for a few hours, he got to hold you while you slept. He got to eat with you at 10:30 at night and it was the highlight of his day.

Pay your surgeon very well to break the spell of aging

Sicker than the rest, there is no test, but this is what you're craving?

Frankie bobs his head, his earphones carefully tucked up under his shirt to prevent the laundry from tangling up in them. He hauls out the latest load and moves onto the washer, fishing out one more sock when suddenly the lights go off. All of them. Total darkness.

And then light and he’s staring down the bottom of the drum.

Then dark. And light.

You. Your code. One you designed when you read that PTSD victims are often triggered into a fight-or-flight response when startled. You, who knew before he did, how to manage the symptoms, create workarounds, and find a pathway through, instead of not at all.

He takes out one of the earbuds and smiles.

“Hey, you’re home.”

You lean against the doorway, smiling that smile that is reserved for him and him alone. Sometimes he’s selfish and wants everything of yours to be only for him – all your smiles, your laughter, your sighs – but that’s like trying to capture sunlight in a butterfly net: too focused on the impossible and you end up missing the daytime.

“How goes this fucking Sysphian task?” You nod at the baskets of laundry at his feet, referring to how you’d often rant and rave about how laundry, the dishes, and grocery shopping were never tasks that could simply be done. He knows how much you hate being unable to cross things off your to-do lists, so he holds your hand during all of these rantings and kisses your knuckles when you take a breath.

“Good,” he shrugs. “‘Bout to fold your scrubs for tomorrow.”

“Ah, have I told you lately that I love you?” You swing into the room and kiss him on his cheek, on the division where his patchy beard meets his skin – the place that you most often claimed on him. Your fingers squeeze around his bicep as you pull away and your eyes fall to the basket behind him. You gasp with glee.

“Did you just wash these sheets?” You ask like you’d just uncovered buried gold.

He smirks, propping his hip up against the dryer. “I did.”

Without another word, you scoop them up in your arms and inhale sharply.

“Mhmm, they smell nice.” You bury your head in deep. “And they’re still warm.”

In the rare moments when you’re both home and going through laundry together, he never fails to scoop up a load of hot towels and dump them over your head, relishing in the girlish giggle from beneath the clean laundry. “It’s so toasty,” you whimper with glee.

“They’re not gonna be if you get your hospital gunk all over them,” Frankie tuts, going back to add a new load into the washer as you glare at him over the lump of sheets.

“Ha, ha. Move over, Mr. Morales, and watch a master at work.”

“Yes, Mrs. Morales.” It’s stupid but his heart always fumbles when he calls you that. It started as a joke, one that you initiated, but now it’s like berry jam on his tongue, sweet and sugary. He’s thought about calling you that while he’s inside you but figures he should save something for the wedding night.

He sidles back, giving you space near the dryer as you pick up a basket of t-shirts.

“You know there’s dinner waiting for you in the kitchen.” He shakes his head as you begin to fold the shirts with lightning speed and precision – a side effect of being the oldest daughter in a family of five kids.

“Yeah, but you’re in here,” you say and bump his hip. He bumps you back and helps with the load. “Besides, it’ll get done faster with two people.”

He can’t exactly argue with that, so he lets the silence grow. But it’s not silence, not really. In the distance, dogs bark. Outside the room, the temperamental AC grumbles, a sound he never thought he’d come to appreciate. Inside the room, fingers tug at fabric, the soft thump as the shirts grow into a continuous pile. Then there’s you, breathing in the lilac-scented air, the scent of his deodorant and sweat and something entirely unique to him– his Frankie-ness as you’ve called it many times without elaborating. I’d bottle it if I could, you told him, bathe in it. You’re kinda weird, he told you, and you know he likes it.

Every once in a while, his elbow brushes up against yours, yours skirting around his, but never colliding, an awareness of the other always present and attended to, a flow of familiarity and recognition he’s never felt before or known since.

Bit by bit, you’ve taken pieces of him into you, picked them up, held them to the light and found them beautiful, until a second bit of his soul lives outside of his body. He knows every inch of you, how every atom calls out to him, begs to be close to him, and held tight. It’s not sunlight he’s trying to keep safe, it’s your heart. Your precious, wonderful heart that is somehow so full, it was enough to fill him up too. Gold filling in the cracks.

Kintsugi, Benny called it, when he got obsessed with anime for three months that one time two years ago. Frankie never could remember the actual name, and maybe that wasn’t the point and maybe it was a little ridiculous, especially when it was explained by a deliriously drunk and bleary-eyed Ben Miller at one in the morning on his brother’s lawn chair.

Maybe a better way of thinking about it was how separate, disparate, jagged and raw edges came to fit together. How someone like him got a do-over, another chance to be remade in the kiln, and how someone like you was allowed to love unselfishly, to ask for things and never be threatened with reparations of some kind – as if loving you deserved some sort of compensation.

Pieces, broken and scattered – he looked up and saw you carrying yours, and you witnessed the scars and blood dripping from the shards of his own past, his life, his love, and despite how slippery his pieces were, how dried and empty and wanting yours were, something pulled them together and made them stay.

Something stronger than light.

Stronger than gold.

You shook his hand and looked at what you built together, the pieces that came together, and in the end, that was your partnership. A creation of something greater – home, family, love.

So much fucking love.

In the end, Frankie Morales used love to build his life, not death, and you’re the one who gave it to him.

He drops the last shirt on the stack and he turns, his fingers seeking the drawstring of your pants.

You know what he wants. You want it too. A singular desire in two separate bodies.

The inherent closeness of domesticity draws you into him, closing the already limited space as hands find waists and lips find skin. He drags his nose against your jaw, somehow already shaking, his teeth grazing your throat, unwilling and unable to press his lips to you, wanting to drag this out as much as possible. He squeezes your hips, thumbs flipping under your shirt to touch, touch, touch, until his fingers wrap around your ribs and you make your first sound of the night. It snags at his restraint, pulling it threadbare.

“Frankie,” you sigh and he cannot fight the cataclysmic pull towards you – he stumbles, pinning you to the laundry room wall, his tongue cupping your earlobe into his mouth and he sucks. The next noise you make is high and keening and it turns his touch frantic.

Caught between the wall and his broad shoulders, he does with you what he wants. He nips at your cheek, your neck, the dip of your clavicle, as his thumb presses up each knot of your spine, drawing out the tension from your body like draining poisoned blood, and by the time he pinches off your bra, you’re all but hanging onto him.

“Baby–,”

He can hear you say, it’s late, we have work in the morning, you don’t have to do this,

I’m not worth this

With a low growl that is all possession, all anger that someone ever made you feel like your love was too much, he tugs your shirt off, knocking his hat off as he goes. In the drift, he sees your eyes flutter, mouth twisted in pleasure and guilt – you don’t want to be asking for things like this – and so he silences every doubt, every worry that he’s tired or it’s too late or his knees are aching too much to make you feel the way you deserve – he kisses you with enough force to knock out every unpleasant thought you’ve ever had about yourself and flattens you against the wall.

You let him pry you open, his touch fervent and insistent, tasting of iced coffee and gum. He licks into you, telling you things with his tongue, the way he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, in the soft puff of breath that escapes him when you cup the back of his neck. Closer, he begs, closer.

His wide palm arching your lower back into him, he squeezes your ribs, up under your breast, before finally taking your nipple between his thumb and the meat of his hand and twists, just enough to make you break apart from his demanding mouth, gasping as if tapped by a live wire. But it’s him who is electrocuted, who catches fire, who wants to be chewed down and swallowed up. He shuffles and pulls you into him, the throbbing in his pants bordering on painful. He rubs himself against you once and you sigh like you know he hurts. You nod.

Your fingers peel your shirt up and over your head as he cups one thigh then the other until your hips hug his waist, smearing the hem of his shirt up over his skin. He feels the heat coming from between your legs, the slight dampness, against his lower belly and he groans, low, right near that source of warmth he wants to die in.

You curl above him, tipping his head back, as you dive into his mouth again, fingers twisting into his hair, thumbs brushing his temple right where you know he tends to get headaches. Your tongue brushes against his upper lip, tasting his mustache, and his knees threaten to buckle.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he laments, he praises, into the supple wetness of your tongue. You nod, pleased, and press your chest into him. He cannot fucking wait to get his mouth around your tits.

Mouth sealed to yours, hands cupping the meat of your ass, Frankie works entirely on sense memory to carry you into the kitchen, to a long wooden table beneath a wide window, white curtains closed and blinds shut.

This table had been one of the first purchases for the new house. Tan cedar boards with white knobby legs, it instantly reminded him of the one in his own childhood home, where he and his brothers fought over meals and did homework together. Where he held his mom after his father died and where he dropped his bag after coming home from a life too long spent fighting other people’s wars.

This table mattered to him and he’d be damned if it wouldn’t mean something to his own child one day.

That was something you too wanted to give your child, never having a table like this in your own life. You loved the stories he told about the table in his kitchen. How much it meant to him.

And now he was going to fuck you on it, this symbol of stability.

He just wonders how stable it really is.

His fingers clutching the back of your neck, arm running in tandem with your spine, he lowers you down, shifting your weight onto his arm so you don’t bump your head against the wood. He releases you but you protest, a muffled uh-uh, as he tries retreating. You loop your arms around his neck, tugging him flat against you and he feels your breasts mold against his chest, nipples already tight.

“Baby,” he breathes, sucking up and out of your mouth, “let me make you feel good.”

Behind him, he hears your sneakers clatter to the floor, your heels digging into his back as you toe off your shoes, and you shake your head.

“I am.” Kiss. A thumb under his bottom lip. “You do.” Breathless, reverent, grateful.

Grateful.

Grateful that he is kissing you.

Not good enough. God, he’s going to eat that self-loathing right out of you.

You whine, frustrated and hot, as he pulls back. He wants to go right for your pussy, but stutters at the sight of your unmarked tits. Smooth, flushed, heaving. There is no part of you he does not love, does not feel the need to worship on his knees.

But suddenly sour shame strikes him as he realizes enough time has passed since the last time you’d had sex for the hickeys to heal. He intends to amend that right now.

His thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips, to calm himself, he folds himself over you, dribbling kisses along your throat, over the wings of your clavicle, at the barest incline at the top of your breast, and then to the meat of your tit, the heaviness, the sway, and he bites down. Predictably, you yelp, nails scratching roughly into his scalp and that only makes him suck harder. You have very strict rules around where he can mark you, but on the places he can – oh, you beg him for it.

He palms your other tit, just to feel the goosebumps break out across your skin, to roll your nipple with the calluses on his palm. His teeth release, his tongue laving over that already pink and swollen skin, and he glances up, his other thumb coming to massage that fragile patch.

Being a pilot, a soldier, a brother, a son, those are the things he is. But Frankie lives – aches, pines, desires – to watch you come apart.

The purple bruise on your tit shining like a luxurious necklace, your eyes flutter open when you feel him pull up. Your fingers around his ears, your chest wet with his spit, you let him take you in. You give him this, because you know you’re about to get so much more. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, he can feel the soft cant of your hips, the quiet, patient begging, as you thought he needed reminding that you needed this. You rub up him, knees pinned to his ribs, and he lets you pull him into your mouth, grounding him. This kiss is brief, soft, a far cry from the tearing and biting that got you onto the table. Knowing exactly the state you need to be in to ask for what you want, he holds your jaw, thumb against the apple of your cheek and he slips his tongue out of your mouth. Again a protest, an instinctual reaction to the repeated pattern of abandonment, but like all cries for help, he quiets your squirming by sliding his thumb between your lips.

“Suck,” he murmurs gently. Your eyes flutter shut, your nails carving half moons into his forearm, lips creating a vacuum seal around his knuckle and you obey – you suck – and he rewards you with a trail of kisses across your sternum, over your breasts, to the soft swell of your stomach. He nuzzles your belly button and you groan, eyes still shut and his thumb still in your mouth. He bites, softer than before, just above the thatch of hair and you whine around his finger, body going supple for him. He slides his thumb out, dragging a shiny string of spit over your plush lips, down your chin, joining his other hand at the waist band of both your panties and your scrubs.

Any fast movement will awaken that anxious, overthinking, beautiful brain of yours, now that he has it fuzzy and unfocused, so he keeps kissing, keeps sucking and biting, that spot just above your curls. He tongues your hip, and then the other side, your bottom half wonderfully bare before you can open your eyes.

His shoulder bumps the back of your thigh as he stands up right, inhaling the sweat behind your knee, the pungent tang of your glistening curls, your almond butter body lotion. It’s hunger, he feels, but not a tangible hunger, one that can be so easily satiated. It’s not painful, or weakening – no, he is made stronger by it. He feels your blood pulse beneath his hand on your inner thigh as he opens you up and he’s made better by it.

He kneels, a holy servant before the divine meal of their goddess, on shitty linoleum beneath harsh lights in a kitchen he can barely afford.

Frankie takes your hand, kisses your knuckles, and slides your grip into his hair.

“Recuérdame cómo te gusta, nena.”

He eats. He consumes. He licks. He sucks. He slurps.

He tastes your dripping wetness on the seam of your cunt, before his tongue ever gets the chance to explore, to open, to divulge. He licks until he feels your breath hitch – a curse in the shape of his name, as if he needs scolding for making you feel so good – and then he opens his jaw and tongues your hole.

In a lust-drunk haze you once told him he has something better than DSL – he has a pussy-eating nose. He prods you with that nose you can’t seem to get enough of, licking in as far as he can, coating himself in everything as it leaks out of you, and he moans as he can feel it on his chin. You vibrate with the sound and above him, your fingers clench down into his hair.

“Oh, fuck, holy – fuck, Frankie–,” your trembling shakes the bowl of your hips, spilling his meal, so he sucks your clit in a way that makes your body freeze and then melt. You go limp, pliable, and gushing. He gets a few more moments of twisting and sucking and swallowing, until by the third time he puts his lips around your clit, you open-mouth whine and it’s like his body violently remembers he has a cock. He is seized with such a need to fuck you in this warm, wet place he’s dug out with his tongue, he doubles over and rests his teeth against your thigh.

“Frankie, I’m so close,” you writhe, chest flushed and brow sweaty.

Before you, he never knew sex could feel like this, could do this. Sure, he used sex to keep away those circling, vulture-like thoughts from time to time. But this, this drawing out and unthreading, unspooling, of himself and someone else, tearing at ego-drenched threads until all that was left was a being of pure want and desire – he didn’t know this was possible.

He didn’t know he could feel like this.

One more broad lick, coating everything in what he hope fucking smells like him, and you arch, thighs shaking, his hair in danger of being ripped from his scalp. You gasp as you flatten, the first orgasm of the night rolling through you, sweat making your skin salty, as though you had been breached by the ocean.

He laps you through it, of course, a nascent smirk on his face.

You open your eyes to this self-satisfied Frankie, eyes only visible over the top of your cunt, and you whine.

You reach for him and he goes, smearing your slick over your face, offering it to you in supplication on his tongue. He tastes your rising desperation, the way you sharpen your teeth against his lips, batter his tongue into the corner of his mouth, try to claim what your cunt already has. His hunger is an infection and your fever has reached a boiling point.

Your trembling fingers curl his shirt up his back, passing over the ruddy scar on his shoulder where he got hit with a stray bullet, the jagged white line over his ribs where a knife nearly split him open. He used to only fuck with his shirt on. He doesn’t now.

His shirt crumples to the floor as he sits up, you following, eyes dark, and you bite his pec muscle, your love for him twisting you into an anthropophagist. You want to consume him, like your pussy swallows his cock. Having him impale you is not enough; you want intercourse with him on a subatomic level.

You inch back to give yourself enough space to unbutton his jeans and he sees the wet slick left behind on the table. The heat behind his groin shoots up his spine and he grunts, burying his face into your neck where he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth, hands planted on either side of you.

“Hurry, baby, I gotta fuck this pussy,” he whispers against the curve of your jaw. He wants to leave a giant purple bruise there, this instinct to claim, to mark, stoking the roiling heat at the base of his spine and drawing up his balls.

But his attention snaps back to your hands when he hears a click, the release of his zipper is almost euphoric. He moans in relief, unable to see through his half-lidded eyes the explosion of goosebumps over your skin as his breath tumbles over your back and down your chest.

His urgent hands overwhelm yours, one pushing his jeans down his hips, the other palming your stomach, pushing you back and you go willingly, but seemingly mesmerized by the sight of his aching, flushed cock springing up against his stomach. You lie down, but only barely, still on your elbows, as he tugs you by your ankles to the edge of the table.

Your uneven breathing could mean a lot of things. He thought you were being complementary the first time you told him he was too big, but your eyes always widened at the sight of his cock.

“Do you need to be opened up some more, cariño?”

At his rawest, Spanish came out of him like a spilled bottle of molasses, sweet, slow, rich.

“Hmm? Tell me what you need. Hable mas alto por favor.” He rubs your knees, your thighs, hoping you’ll ask for what he wants.

“F-fingers, Frankie,” you swallow, eyes still latched on to his now weeping cock. You glance up at him, face open and full of trust, and he feels his dick pulse. “Please, Frankie, put your fingers in me.”

“Fucking anything.” He plants one hand and cups your mound, lost for a moment in the soaked curls, before pushing two fingers inside and thrusting. “I’ll fucking give you anything you want.”

His hips jerking slightly in tandem with the pulse of his fingers, his slacked mouth an indication of how unconscious his humping has become, as he watches you dissolve with every stroke of his hand. God, he didn’t know they made things this pretty. His hand pushes your knee up and back, finding room for three fingers and your eyes roll back in your head. You scrabble for anything to hold onto, fingers searching for the ghosts of your bedsheets, but finding none, your arms curl over your head and latch onto the other edge of the table. You present your fucking tits to him like you’re letting him admire artwork.

It almost brings him to his knees.

“Oh, I’m coming, oh, Frankie, I’m gonna –,”

He pulls out his fingers just enough to let you gush down his palm, his wrist, and he licks it up like a glutton. It drips a bit onto the linoleum and he smears it with his bare feet.

Frankie slides two fingers back in, his brain going fuzzy at being away from the clutch of your cunt for too long, when you grab his wrist.

You can barely breathe, your skin a pale pink, your cunt no doubt must be sore, but your eyes are as hard as diamonds in your skull. He swallows the flush of spit in his mouth.

“Now, Frankie,” you plead, fingers tight around his wet wrist, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound of your commanding voice. “Fuck me, now, I need you inside of me.”

It always makes him a bit dumbstruck, the way you beg, the way you let him and only him see this side of you – this side of you that is sick with wanting.

His hand squeezes the base of his cock once, eyes fluttering, to remind himself he cannot blow his fucking load the instant the tip of him is inside you. He taps your clit, once, twice, lubing himself up as if he hadn’t moved around internal organs to make way for himself. He notches, then slides, white-knuckling his impending orgasm in favor of making this good for you. He steps farther between your legs, hands sliding from your thighs, up to your waist. He thumbs your nipple and your pussy twitches around him. He swears his heart flat out stops for a concerning length of time.

“How is a pussy this good all mine? All fucking mine?” He rolls his hips, pushing deeper, movements marionetted by the high-pitched whimpers and moans of your mouth. He could catalog every single one of them, has done so in the deep recesses of his brain, and it takes just a second to know when it switches from pleasure to pain.

He bends over you, you choking on his dick, and kisses you hard, shattering the tense look on your face.

“I love you,” he tells you, a secret that despite being well-known to anyone who sees him look at you, still feels precious and fragile. His hand plasters your hair to your sweaty neck as he kisses you desperately, speaking a language only you understand. “I love you so fucking much.”

You sigh into his open mouth. “I wanna marry you, Fransisco Morales.”

He is covered in gold. Dripping with it.

His nails at your hip dig into your skin and you know exactly what you’ve done.

“Say it. Say it louder, nena,” he snarls, face pressed into your cheek, and he thrusts forward with enough force to rock the table. The table legs squeak as you pin him to you one more time and nip at his ear. The last drop in the well, the rope slipping over the edge, the coil locked into place.

“I wanna fucking marry you.”

With a breathy grunt, he yanks you down onto his cock by your waist and slaps your ass with his balls. It’s been a while since your cunt has taken a beating like this. You clutch at the edge of the table again, mouth torn open.

He knows you like it when he plays with your clit, and he will, but he needs to get this out of him.

“Yeah? You’re gonna marry the guy who’s fucking your pussy so good right now?” It’s amazing that words escape at all through his gritted teeth, jaw taut. He watches as he disappears and reappears in you, your lips puffy and pink already but he needs more. He doesn’t want you to be able to walk out of bed tomorrow.

“Yes, Frankie – oh, god, there, right there – yes, I’m gonna marry you.” He tips your hips up as he pounds down and you arch, crying out at the angle, the depth, how full you feel. He fucks like he’s trying to bruise your ribcage through your pussy.

The thoughts in his head collide with the others, knotting together, blurring, until the only noise he can make, the only thing he can verbalize is the tight grunts, the hm, hm, hm, as he focuses on chasing this fire.

He feels it approach so fast, he’s nearly taken under by the intensity of his orgasm so he slows, grinds instead, and with his eyes on your face, he cups himself around where he’s split you open, feeling your lips suck in and out with every thrust.

He closes his eyes briefly, helpless against the waves of arousal that coat his fingers. He smears your clit with his thumb and his name is a split, jagged thing that burns your tongue. He wants that taste on his tongue again.

You throb once, a sharp climax warming your pussy, and he backs out, drops to his knees, and licks you up again. He can taste his sweat there this time and he groans. His hands slip over your skin from the sweat in the crease of your thigh.

The cries from your mouth are wet now, on the curve of a salty tongue. You tremble like your orgasm is a physical thing, thrumming under your skin, warming your blood and you claw at his forearm.

“B-baby, please–,”

Wiping his mouth on your inner thigh, then licking up the mess he made, Frankie stands. He swats your bottom lightly, tutting. He’s a mad man, he knows it, he can’t tell if it's delirium from the rough ache of his balls or masochistic joy in hearing you beg, but again he rubs himself through your folds. It’s not the same, not nearly enough, but it helps last just a bit longer.

“No crying until after I’ve made you come.”

“I’ve already come twice,” you whine as you buck your hips, trying to take him in deeper. “You said I can have anything I want.”

“And what does princesa want?” Yeah, there’s definitely something wrong with him.

Your eyes flash as your nails dig into his shoulders, that fire he so loves to stoke flaring out.

“I want to come on your cock, Mr. Morales.”

And he unravels, divinity calling his name.

His pace is slow, then rough, then deep.

The table is just the right height. He balances on knee on the lip, bending your knees over his shoulders, and fucking down into you. He’s going to snap you in fucking half and maybe he does but he’ll be there to seal you back up again.

Pour himself into you. Fill you. Make you whole once more.

Baby, please.

The first drip of tears starts out the corner of your eyes as you come, open-mouthed, throat exposed, a cry loud and in the shape of his name tearing from your lips, your body locking up, cunt squeezing him until he feels himself burst.

With a shudder and a groan, he spills, hot and flush into you. He comes, and comes, and comes, until his gooey spend is forced out of you and down the crack of your ass. He can’t see anything past the white spark in his eyes, feel anything but you and the tingle of his limbs.

The excess of you and him is everywhere, leaking out onto the kitchen table, soaking the wood. There’s a ringing in his ears he can’t quiet.

Your breath is hot on his neck, sweaty skin stuck tightly against his, he knows he’s crushing you, his arms given out at some point, but he really doesn’t think he can stand up right. He kisses your cheek by way of apology and thanks but you don’t seem to mind, your own gaze unfocused on the ceiling.

“Fuck, Frankie . . .”

He laughs, realizes his legs aren’t working, so trembling and uneasy, he slides out of you and manages to make it to the floor. He blames the sudden dizziness on a lack of food and then blames the dizziness for lying down on the floor.

His eyes flutter and somehow you’re suddenly curled up next to him, your palm resting over his pounding heart. His fingers find their way up into your sweat-damp hair, thumb gently rubbing against the knot at the base of your skull.

“Your back is gonna be killing you in about fifteen minutes, sweetheart,” you grumble sleepily into his chest, a grin on your face.

“I can’t feel anything below my waist right now.” He yawns. “So, we’ve got some time.”

You nod, absentmindedly stroking the dark hair on his chest.

“We need to talk about Pope’s birthday party this weekend. Will put us on drink duty . . . but I can’t really focus on anything right now.”

“Good,” he smirks with his eyes shut. “That was some of my best work.” And then he frowns. “You need to eat.” He pokes your side and you huff.

“Okay, if you’re awake enough to berate me, we can at least go to bed.”

Groaning, you pull him up and he threatens to stumble you both into the wall, but he kisses your cheek and swats your ass, before snagging a tub of ice cream and a spoon. He meets you in the bedroom with the cap off and a smear of chocolate around his lips.

You’ve got one of his shirts, grinning up at him from the center of the bed, and he’s torn about whether he likes you in his boxers, or nothing at all.

You take the ice cream from him before he has a chance to flop down on the bed.

“Not exactly a nutritious meal,” you mutter around the spoon and he turns his face from the pillow to glare at you.

“That’s the other dinner I made for you, so eat.”

Your giggle is all you can give to show your thanks.

He rolls onto his back, groaning theatrically, before tucking his hand behind his head, and his fingers coming to rest on his stomach.

Behind the lids of his eyes, he can feel you watching him.

“What?” He grumbles, feeling around for your foot to pinch your ankle. He hears you move so he knows he’s close. “Not the right flavor, princesa?”

“No,” you laugh and prod his hip with your toe. “It’s just . . .”

His eyes open, finding yours in the half-lit gloom. You’re grinning the spoon in your mouth, eyes bright with something unnameable. You shrug, eying his hand between you both.

“I just never knew Fransisco Morales could be domesticated.”

He wipes the chocolate off your chin with his thumb.

Yeah, who knew?

#frankie morales #fransisco morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales smut #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader

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g4l4xy-qu33n · 1 year ago

Text

Jax SFW Alphabet

A/N: These are all my personal headcanons, so pls don't get mad and say that my headcanon isn't the exact same as yours! This was written with afab reader in mind, but no genitalia is described, nor is there use of any gender-specific pronouns for the reader! (If you find one, pls let me know!) No body type describe for the reader either, this can be read by all! Proofread by nobody <3

Warnings: Mentions of smutty/nsfw activities, but not highly descriptive and detailed. Light use of swearing. (D1ckhead and similar) Also this is very long.

Anyway, let's get right into the show list!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Let’s just say Jax isn’t the most affectionate of people (rabbits?)

He shows affection towards you with relentless teasing, jokes, and pranks, which are the same as (or worse than) the ones he pulls on the other members of the circus.

He is a sucker for long, drawn out make-out sessions in your (or his) room when nobody else is around, though.

And if you ask him nicely, he’ll probably cuddle you. On the condition that no one else is around, and it’s in private

Pet names. Jax lives for calling you pet names. And the ideas for pet names always come from what you are. If you’re a rabbit, you’ll get called his bunny, honey-bunny, etc. If you’re a dog you’d get puppy, if you’re a cat you’d get kitten. If you’re a doll of sorts, you’ll get doll, or dollface, and the list goes on and on.

Jax loves to flirt with you. Sure, pet names are a way of flirting, but he also just likes the blatant, generic flirts too.

Teasing. This man is such a tease. If you stumble, he’ll ask how your trip was. If you rant about an interest, he’ll make fun of you for it. In a kind enough way of course.

He also does this thing he calls “surprise kisses”, which is when he would kiss you anywhere at anytime, whether you expect it or not. It’s usually on the cheek, or forehead, but he’s done your mouth and neck before, just to tease and fluster you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Having Jax as a best friend would be of course full of jokes, tricks, pranks, you name it.

He’s a natural friendly-flirter. He can and will flirt with you, whether you like it or not. Him flirting doesn’t mean he necessarily has feelings though, just depends on your status of partnership.

And he’ll tease you, call you pet names, all that fun stuff.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Jax would protest cuddles at first, but once you’re in his arms, he’ll snuggle for hours on end.

His favourites ways to cuddles include anything where he’s holding you. One he likes specifically is when he’s on his back and your head is on his chest, arms wrapped around his middle, his long arms draped casually on top of you, so you're pretty much lying on top of him.

That, or a similar one, the difference being that you’re next to him instead, with one arm draped over him and one leg hooked over him, head in the crook of his neck.

Another one of his favourites is when you’re both on your sides, and you’re facing each other, your head buried in his chest. He only likes it because he feels protective with the way you’re curled up. (He also likes the intertwined legs but shhh)

And on the very VERY rare occasion of when he just wants to be snuggled, he’ll do any of these, but reversed so he's being cuddled instead of doing the cuddling.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Eh. I doubt he’d consider settling down. If it’s something you really really REALLY wanted, he’d think about it, but for the most part, no, I don’t think Jax would want to settle down.

I also feel like he’d flat out refuse to cook or clean, unless you were sick or something.

He can’t cook, he’ll probably burn the digital world to the ground.

And Jax would always flat out refuse to clean. Nope, he’s never touching a cleaning supply in his digital life. Usually, he’ll make someone else do it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Jax had to break up with his S/O, he’d be straight forward, and just say that he needs/wants to break up with them, no matter how serious the reason is.

He wouldn’t make a big deal out of it at all, and depending on how much he loved his S/O, he might feel bad about it later.

If he really did love you, he’d sob to himself in his room, but apart from that, he’d seem unaffected by your absence.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Honestly, is being married in the digital world even a thing? Who knows, I certainly don’t.

“Woah woah woah. Slow down. You wanna what?!” Is what Jax would probably say if you brought up the idea of marriage.

Being in the digital world, marriage wouldn’t make much of a difference to the relationship, so he doesn’t really see it as necessary. You see each other every day anyway…?

Jax would probably never propose unprompted, so be sure to remind him if you really do want to get married. (Or just propose to him yourself if that works for you.)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Jax is a very rough person. (Rabbit??)

He’d be quite physical with you, purposefully bumping into you, knocking you over, just straight up pushing you over and shoving you, leg sweeps if he feels like it, etc.

He’d probably just randomly pick you up out the blue, too. You’d be standing in the circus and suddenly scoop! And you’re in his arms, bridal style.

But don’t get mad at him, it’s all for the jokes.

When it comes to how gentle he is emotionally, let’s just say you’ve almost never seen this guy cry.

Around the other circus members he’s loud, obnoxious and a general dickhead. Around you? He’s very much the same. But with a little less obnoxious, and a little more cocky.

I feel like he would only cry if something terrible happened to you, like if you abstracted or similar, but even then it would be hard for the tears to come out.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs, but he would never say that in front of anyone, not even you, if the relationship is new.

You only know he likes hugging you because of the way he holds you tight and close, and the way his smirk turns a little more into a sincere smile when you’re in his arms.

He’d take your hugs any time of the day, any day of the week, any week of the month. (I could go on, but won’t, to spare you your sanity.)

When it comes to how often he initiates hugs, well… that differs. You can never really guess when you’re going to get hugged by him, to be honest.

If he’s feeling playful, he’d scare you by hugging you from behind when you least expect it. If he just wants to hold you, he’ll just approach from behind politely enough. If he’s horny however… that’s a different story completely ;)

Jax’s hugs are amazing. The way this tall rabbit's long arms wrap around you is enough for you to decide that you never want him to let go.

While hugging, Jax won't hesitate to start running his hand down your head, or through your hair - if you have any.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes Jax forever for him to say the L-word. Heck, you may even have to remind him to say it every so often.

I feel like he’d only say it once he really trusts you, and really feels like you’re the one he trusts the most.

I imagine he’d say it in the most dramatic situation possible. (He’s a sucker for drama)

Picture this: you’ve just gone through one of the most scary, traumatising ‘adventures’ that Caine puts you through. You’re with Jax, calming down, and he just whispers “I love you”. You’re too stunned to speak, but you just smile, looking at him and whispering an “I love you too, Jax.” back, ending the moment with a sweet kiss.

(If you imagine something else too that’s cool. My brain just came up with that.)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

At first, Jax would get incredibly jealous if you’d spend more than twenty minutes without him. He’d start getting annoyed and playing mean and potentially dangerous pranks on the circus member(s) you were hanging out with.

Thankfully, you’d realise pretty quickly what’s up, calling him out on it and talking it through.

After that, he won’t show his jealousy if you’re hanging out a lot with the rest of the gang, but he definitely would still get jealous, and he’d show it in… unconventional ways. Like in bed. Or with pranks that only affect you, but still make you laugh.

Once the relationship has been going on for a while, his jealousy would be mostly non-existent.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

I’ll say it now, and I’ll say it again. Jax absolutely lives for kisses.

He’d take any chance he can to press his lips against you, whether it’s against your lips, or if he’s kissing your cheeks or forehead. Or literally anywhere else.

Jax loves to kiss you anywhere, but he does have a few favourites, which include (in no particular order):

Your lips. He loves to kiss your lips, even if it can be a little strange, with his teeth. But you aren’t complaining, you get to kiss Jax!

Your forehead or the top of your head. As he’s (probably) taller than you, the top of your head is easily accessible.

Your neck. Ohh he loves to kiss your neck. Sure it’s usually sexual, but he also does it sometimes just to mess with you. He may even bite, who knows ;) (if he open his mouth lmao)

The back of your hands. This is rare, but he likes it because he gets to act all dapper like a gentleman, when he’s really not.

Your thighs. Now this one’s purely sexual, but he still loves to do it because he gets to stall and tease what’s to come.

If you want to kiss him, the best places have to be his lips, cheeks or neck. Just make sure to pull him down by his overalls first, he might be a bit too tall for you to initiate kisses with.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Jax is absolutely horrible when there’s children around. Thank god there isn’t any in the Amazing Digital Circus.

He has no filter, and would probably just start swearing in front of them, too.

Not to mention his pranks. Jax would probably pull a nasty prank on a kid, not realising they’d actually be scared of it.

Jax would be especially bad if the kid(s) are emotional or crying. He would just be standing there, awkwardly while this kid just bawls.

And he’d probably snap at the kids if they’re too annoying for his liking.

So pretty much, don’t ever make Jax be around kids, and don't every put kids around Jax

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

As both the moon and the sun are out at the same time in the Digital World, what even is night and day, really?

Regardless, mornings with Jax are usually spent in one of two ways:

Getting up early to prank people while they’re still asleep and in their rooms,

or cuddling each other in either person’s room.

And no matter which one you choose, it’s guaranteed to be fun.

And of course there’s a special third option, but that’s not for this alphabet list ;)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Jax are more or less the same as mornings: three things you could be doing.

Playing pranks on people so that they’ll never get to relax (haha)

Or snuggles in either persons room.

And as before, there’s a third option that isn’t exactly meant for this list.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Technically, there isn’t much to reveal, what with being stuck in the digital world where you can’t remember your past human life.

But if there was things to reveal, I feel like it would take a while for Jax to open up.

He’s stubborn, and probably a bit of a jackass. (Haha get it? Jax the Jackass? I’m so funny/s (sarcasm))

He wouldn’t answer any questions you ask him until he really knows you. Like really knows you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Jax doesn’t have an ounce of patience.

You’re a minute late to an adventure? He’s coming to your room to get you.

You say something like “be there in a minute.” And it's a second over a minute and you're not with him yet? He’s looking for you.

In all honesty, the only reason he’s so impatient with you is because you’re nice to him, and he cares about you.

But he’d never admit that out loud.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Jax has a weird thing for the details.

He won’t remember things like your birthday or your favourite colour, but he’ll remember that one specific story you told him, and what day and exact time you said it.

But it’s not like either of you can even remember anything from the human world anyway, so what does memory really matter when you can just choose a new favourite colour, or a new birthday?

To be honest I doubt he’d remember your (new) name for the first few days as well.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He has many favourite relationship moments, but the first few that come to mind when brought up are:

Your first kiss. He only remembers this specifically because it made him realise that there can be true happiness in the digital world. (He also liked that it evolved into something more steamy. Don’t accuse him of that though, he’ll get mad.)

When you pranked him for the first time. He just thought it was really funny and cute that you used his own tricks against him, and that you’re learning from the best. (Him, of course.)

When he pranked you for the first time. This one’s self explanatory, he just likes pranking people.

And your arrival into the Digital Circus, because that's when he met you for the first time.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Jax is super protective, but only because he doesn’t want you abstracting.

If you were in any danger, he’d come and hold you close until you start complaining.

He’d wrap his long arms around you, and probably rest his head on yours, or your shoulder.

If any of the other circus members were to get mad at you for something, he’d immediately rush to your side as soon as he finds out, holding you close and practically growling at whoever got mad at you.

And if anyone else tried to lay a hand on you, there wouldn’t be much you could do to stop Jax yelling at them.

He’s just a jealous guy.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

The amount of effort he puts into your relationship depends on whether he finds the activity interesting or not.

Because if he thinks something is boring or tacky, prepare yourself for the disappointment of him declining your offer.

But if he does seem to find something interesting, he’ll go all out just for you.

Like for your anniversary. Think digital flowers, a digital suit for him, a digital dress for you, and a digitally candlelit digital dinner, probably at that restaurant Caine was in that was full of NPC’s from the pilot.

And if you're happy, he'll screw your brain out later, too.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

If you don’t like his pranks, then that definitely counts as a bad habit in your book. If you don’t mind the pranks/don’t care about them then you’re probably indifferent.

I feel like he growls. I don’t know when or why, but I feel like he has a bad habit of growling when he snarls.

One bad habit he hates but you probably love is the little tiny squeaking noises he makes when he’s really happy. That’s something you can tease him about. (But hey, he can’t help that he’s a rabbit, and rabbits make squeaking noises)

To be honest, what counts as a bad habit and a good/neutral one is up to personal opinion, so that’s for you to think about.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Jax could care less about how he looks, as long as it’s something along the lines of nonchalant and chill, with a bit of prankster mixed in there.

And in the Amazing Digital Circus, I doubt there’d even be a need to style yourself in front a mirror every morning, you’re just a bunch of readily formed shapes stacked on top of each other after all. No real hair, - or fur - no real clothes so no wrinkles or creases, etc.

So looks don’t matter too much in the digital world.

You don’t even get to choose what you look like anyway, so why be worried?

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Jax would probably tell himself he feels fine without you, but deep down he would know he’s lying to himself, and that he really does feel incomplete without you near him.

Take for example, if you abstracted, Jax would probably be on the verge of abstracting as well, seeing as you were the only one that liked him, anyway.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He really likes getting pet.

Whether it be his head, back, arms, ears, etc - Jax would love it.

Since he’s a rabbit, getting pet would also make his foot thump, just like real rabbits from the human world.

His ears are also ticklish.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Jax would hate someone who can’t take a joke, or prank.

Anyone he says ‘needs to lighten up’ won’t be on very good terms with him for too much longer.

He also wouldn’t like anyone who’s constantly crying, unless they have a valid reason to be. Jax’s list of valid reasons to be crying isn’t very long.

Nor would he like anyone who’s a child, even if they’re an adult in a child’s body size, it still doesn’t fly.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Needing sleep in the digital circus? Yeah right.

Life in the digital world pretty much means sleep isn’t necessary, but everyone does still go to bed, even if they don’t fall asleep.

Thought if he did have to sleep though, Jax would very much be a late to bed, late out of bed sorta guy.

Either that or no sleep at all, winging life with constant all-nighters.

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jeonscatalyst · 5 months ago

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About the ham/pink sausage thing I'd love to know if you think bucking up at ur partner(Assuming jkk are couple or have romantic feelings for e/o) like that in front of other ppl can happen btw couples...... friends? Yes. Siblings? Yes. But couples? I wonder......if my partner does that (jk was kinda pissed because they questioned his knowledge of food or wtv that is) in front of other ppl I'd feel disrespectful maybe not by siblings and friends but definitely by my partner. Of course i don't believe any of the members have that kinda nature where they hit someone that's completely false I believe that. Can you imagine you and your partner in their place? Your partner bucking up at you like that in public? You won't feel disrespected? And i know you'll say jk was joking, he joked when he did it second time but the first time was his honest reaction. It irritated him that they didn't belive he was right.

Hi anon,

Short answer to your question is yes, it can happen. I’ve seen so many people give so many takes about the pink sausage/ham moment but I refrained from saying anything about it until I got my thoughts in order. So many times when people judge other’s actions they look at it from a perspective that they are used to or through a particular lens that makes sense to them forgetting that in this big world with over 7 billion people, there are different people, different cultures and ways of life so what might mean one thing to you, might mean something else to a different person.

I don’t understand why that was a big deal to people ( I mean I do kinda but…) because anyone who has watched even one kdrama or knows even a little bit about Koreans in general knows that koreans do that alot when they are mad or irritated. They buck at other people like they are going to hit them with no intention of actually hitting them. Parents do it to kids, siblings do it to each other and even people in seasoned relationships relationships do it as well. Jk wasn’t going to hit Jimin, that’s for sure. It’s just that was a knee jerk reaction at that point and from the reactions of Tae and Jimin, that wasn’t something Jungkook did often because Jimin didn’t seem used to it judging from his reaction.

I understand what you mean about feeling disrespected especially if that is something that happens in public but I doubt some koreans will see it that way mostly because it is something they are used to. Plus, sometimes people could be intentionally or unintentionally disrespectful to their partners, that isn’t news.

While that moment left a bad taste in some people’s mouths, I actually found it cute….not necessarily because Jungkook bucked at Jimin but because when you watch that scene, you notice that Tae was the one who started saying it was ham and he was also the one who kept insisting it was while Jimin only said it once but that one time Jimin said it was the only time Jungkook doubted himself about it. I also found it interesting that even though Tae was the one who repeatedly insisted that it wasn’t pink sausage, we only saw Jk’s emotions towards Jimin and nothing towards Tae. Now, most people whom I like to call shallow or fickle would rejoice at the fact that Tae didn’t react to Tae who was the instigator but reacted to Jimin who only said it once but to anyone who understands human emotions and knows a little bit of something about life, that single moment right there was more than enough to tell whom among the two Jungkook is emotionally closer to.

That moment to me will go down in history as one of the biggest moments that showed just how close and comfortable Jikook are with each other.

Typically, you are more likely to get annoyed at someone you are closer to because you have more expectations of them than the ones you are not as close to. There is also an emotional investment. Being closer to someone usually means you care more about their opinions and actions so when they do something that bothers you, it impacts you more deeply. You generally also feel more comfortable expressing or showing your frustration at someone you feel closest to because your relationship with them feels secure so you are not worried about how you might come off because you both know each other extremely well, while with a friend you are not as close to, you tend to be more forgiving or less affected by their behavior because your emotional investment is lower, and your expectations might not be as high. Anyone who watches that clip would wonder why on earth Jk only expressed his annoyance at Jimin and not Tae who actually started and instigated the whole thing and this is not to say Taekook aren’t close because we know they are but Jikook just have an insanely deeper emotional connection and bond.

Some people think Jungkook was just joking but I think he was truly annoyed and maybe even a little hurt, and his annoyance (though might sound abit silly) probably came from the fact that he expected Jimin to side with him but Jimin didn’t or expected Jimin to trust his judgement more. To so many people it might have just been a silly argument about ham and pink sausage bit to Jungkook, it was probably more and some might to relate or understand his annoyance but that doesn’t mean his feelings about the whole thing shouldn’t be respected.

Jimin’s reaction was also very telling and even though he handled things in a funny and dramatic way, I think Jungkook’s actions shocked him to a certain extent and he probably felt bad about it but he must have understood at some point why Jungkook reacted so intensely. Jimin’s actions also shows how much he knows and is emotionally close to Jungkook because if that were another person, Jimin would have probably cussed them out but he had this extra patience with Jungkook probably because he understood why Jungkook got like that. Compare the way Tae reacted after Jungkook made a statement about him being weak to Jimin’s reaction. One of them was clearly the reaction of a friend (Tae straight up warned Jungkook not to take things far else someone would see blood) but Jimin’s reaction was more….emotional. Jungkook’s reaction in the two cases too were telling. With Tae he was quick to say “yes sir” when Tae called him out but with Jimin, he didn’t look like he was ready to let go of the annoyance yet and even after they finished eating he kept glaring at Jimin till Jimin apologized.

Reminds me of that Live from May 2019 in Newjersey where Jimin and Jin turned off the Live before Jk arrived and Jk was so pissed he went to start his own Live. All Jin had to do to get Jk’s forgiveness was apologize once while Jimin had to follow him to his room apologizing yet Jk still didn’t let him off easy. These are things that could seem very trivial to people but that shows you that Jungkook might just have more expectations when it comes to Jimin while he doesn’t really get that affected by other’s actions. The rainy day story is also a good example that shows how Jimin’s opinions affect Jungkook differently. He has mentioned so many times that he tries to emulate Jimin’s actions so that already says alot about how much he values Jimin’s opinions and how much expectations he generally has when it comes to him so when he feels disappointed, it just triggers a more emotional response. It also gets a little weirder when you remember that Jimin is actually Jungkook’s hyung which means that Jimin could have easily scolded him like Tae did with Jk realizing that he had just been disrespectful to someone older and ready to apologize yet that is not the reaction we got from them at all.

So anon, I can see why you would see things the way you do but you always have to consider context and the context here would be that, different things are acceptable in different cultures or societies and things have different meanings to different people. And yes, if Jimin is Jungkook’s lover he might have felt disrespected sometimes things like that happen in relationships anyway so it’s nothing new imo.

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #are you sure #jikook blog #my asks

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luna-loveboop · 4 months ago

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Wanted to share some thoughts, cause I NEED TO SHARE IT. (Though it might be quite obvious, yeah...)

So, the whole thing with Warriors acting more stern with Wild lately. One could think: "Why just Wild? Hyrule can be quite reckless sometimes, and Wind is THE BABY, so why not them too?"

Well, there's one thing that they don't have, but Wild sure does...luck of self-preservation.

Wars can trust that others, even IF they let emotions take over, would still try to avoid DYING.

WILD WILL NOT. This fella uses his FACE as a SHIELD for ANOTHER PERSON, when there's NO NEED FOR THIS, while being in his "right mind".

SO WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT OF HIM, WHEN HE LOOSES HIS MIND IN A STRESSFUL SITUATION?

Wars still gave him the benefit of the doubt for a while, but after this whole fiasco with Twi's injury - Wars just can not help it, he FEARS for Wild's well-being, because "Champ" himself DOES NOT (with his whole "failure of a hero" thing, I presume).

And how does one even adress it? I doubt Wars saw many people who didn't care about their life before, he was at war, usually people want TO SURVIVE there. He's on edge cause he sees a problem and has no idea how to aproach it.

I want to preface this by saying I have a severe inability to stay on topic but yeah let's talk about it.

So you touched on something me and Jesse have both touched on- that Wars' actions towards Wild come from a place of concern and fear. I think that this is true. Wild DOES lack self-preservation instincts, and Wars has to be afraid of losing him- of the young knight earning more scars. Wild can be an idiot sometimes, but Wars saw him lose his head and attack the shadow when it was just proved to be lethal more than they knew.

There's a difference of perspective between ours and the boys tho that is important and I think contributes to people judging wars for this. See, to Wars perspective, and all of the boys, they could die at any time. An injury could be fatal and they can't see the future. We however KNOW that Wild survives, because we know he goes on to tears of the kingdom. We know Jojo has said that he is reckless and will get himself hurt but always comes out of it. But Wars has watched a billion (<exaggeration) soldiers die and is terrified of it happening again. Whereas we watch the comic from the outside, knowing for certain Wild will make it, Wars is living out that reality harshly.

ANoThER thing I think people forget to account for is Wars is not just a captain, he's a soldier but also leader in an army. I'm not the best with phrasing sometimes so I'll try to say this well- people in the army don't always get to be nice. Oftentimes armies have very harsh environments in treatment towards soldiers because when it comes down to training and life and death there is no time for niceties or feelings. Wars was pushed into the most major promotion ever pretty much to be an army leader. If he's now in the mindset of viewing Wild as a fellow knight/soldier who is not a leader... angry words and facial expressions is pretty mild to be honest.

Wars is a really nice person for all he's gone through, but fighting in a war is a very different experience than a solo journey like the others had. I think it's time to acknowledge that he was forced into far more of a role than the pretty hero, but also an armies leader, and it takes a lot of work to be a nice person through all that. Wars is a nice person who has a ton of strength to be so kind after all he's been through and his actions towards Wild make sense considering his past with what journey he came from. Thank you for coming to my ted talk- no I'm not done.

If anything I said was in any way offensive let me know. I hope my words didn't somehow come across as harsh.

Although him (in a way) treating Wild as someone who is out of line is understandable given his past, it's still not excusable. Wild isn't a soldier and he's not the leader.

Now for Wild time I'm going totally of the rails let's go

Wild doesn't. Yeah ok Wild doesn't like Wars. I've made like. Fifteen thousand nine hundred and fifty two posts on this (<big exaggeration). Wild has not really... spoken to Wars throughout the Lu storyline, tho he did in some of Jojo's starting doodles. Wild has really only spoken to Wars since it all went down when mr. stubborn got injured. I think Wild has a lot of resentment towards Wars for being the knight he was supposed to- who succeeded. Wild has flat out ignored Wars a lot of the time and honestly I'd get pretty frustrated with that too.

Also I along with the other nine hundred people want Wars to trigger an army memory in Wild. For the angst.

Wars is wrong in how he's acting towards Wild and Wild is wrong in how he's treated Wars not as someone worthy of respect. It's hard to pinpoint what's going on in Wild's head but I DO know Wars thoughts- he's terrified for Wild's life and angry that he ignored him and fought the shadow.

But yeah you're right. Wild has no self preservation instincts and Wars can't rely on him to freaking stay alive. Thank you for sending me an ask and sharing your thoughts with me!!! You matter and I love hearing from you /gen <3

Also. Let's make this clear. I love Wars so much. So very much. He's literally a fairy godmother. No hating on him or Wild on my posts. Thank :D

#THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THE ASK AND LISTENING TO MY RANTS I WENT OTALLY OFF TOPIC #I have no idea if this makes sense I hope it did :/#linked universe #linkeduniverse #Lu wars #Lu wild #mr stubborn #asks #I like numbers only when I can be goofy with them #lunamikobrony2

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hellsslibrary · 1 year ago

Text

✧･ﾟ:*NSFW Alphabet with Jack Howl*:･ﾟ✧

DNI : minors.

!!Warnings : sub!bottom!Jack, heats, oral, soft sex, size difference, animal instincts (?), shower sex, handjob, sweat(?), male reader.

Riddle <————«« Jack »»————> Ruggie

Sawanaclaw. Jack Howl.

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

He doesn't get particularly tired, he has a lot more exercise than a few rounds of sex, so he's pretty good. Although if you are tired, then he will do everything for you in fact. Water, shower, food, anything else? It will certainly be in your hands.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I do not think that he is one of those who will highlight something in his partner. It's like he loves you completely and doesn't highlight any parts of you, he just doesn't need to. He loves you all without a trace, completely, every part of you.

The same can be said about him. He will not love something more about himself than anything else. Although he is definitely proud of his muscles

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

His sperm is released in large enough quantities, I would say more than average. It is thicker than normal and less transparent than normal human.

As for your sperm, he absolutely does not care where you end up. Although he definitely prefers you to cum inside him because it satisfies his animal instincts a little, especially during his heats.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It finds you hot when you are tired after exercising/sports/etc. Like really, you're out of breath, soaked in sweat, and take off your shirt with a heavy sigh of relief that it's over... And if you also have muscles... Damn... The poor boy will have a boner on the spot, lol.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He is not. He is definitely a virgin. It's just, well, I doubt he's ever been interested in it to the point where he'd go and do it with anyone. Although he knows what he's doing, that's for sure.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Doggystyle lol. What did you expect? Any self-respecting person imagined themselves fucking someone from Sawanaclaw in this position. Although his tail can sometimes get in the way in this pose, as he begins to wag a lot.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Yes, he is definitely serious. Like... I'm not even going to discuss it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I don't know, I don't think he takes much care of his hair there, he just cuts it when it gets too long, but he doesn't do anything else. He has a normal pubis with hair, not too much nor too little. And the hair on the carpet is darker than on the drapes, very very darker.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He is a romantic but doesn't want to admit it. He's just shy about it though, but his tail always gives him away.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

No, he doesn't do it often. Or maybe not at all after your relationship has moved to an intimate level. Why does he need this if there is your dick? Hands? Mouth? Whatever else? You are much better at keeping him satisfied than he is.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Handjob? I really don't know why. I just like to think that he likes to jerk you off with his strong hands or boobs. Breeding kink. I think I don't have to explain it. Like he's literally a wolf, like a hybrid animal. It is clear that he has something similar. Oh, and of course a kink to the size difference! It doesn't matter which way it works, whether you are above or below it, less or more. It's just nice anyway.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Well... I think he likes sex against the wall. It doesn't matter how. You hold him, you press him or he lean on it. He just likes it when you are in the position of a predator, and he is prey from this point of view.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

In general, the usual degree of excitability, he is excited by things that he likes. Again, you're sweaty and tired, yes. Maybe you wearing tight clothes, he likes to look at your curves.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Of course he wouldn't hurt you, it's a clear no-no for him. Also, he would never share you with anyone in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves to give, of course. He loves to give you pleasure and loves to watch you enjoy the pleasure he gives you.

But he definitely loves when you give. Definitely, also, prefers a blowjob than anything else.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

A fan of something tender and loving, of course. He doesn't want to admit it though, hehe. But when he's in heat, he wants you to fuck him fast so you can be rough with him.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No, not a fan of this kind of activity. Although he doesn't mind since he has something in his head (you'll find out later in W). But still, he would prefer a long sex, rather than an act where you will fuck, as if in the last minutes of life.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Well... He... Yes? I guess yes. He's experimental and willing to try just about anything, within reason, if you want it or he wants it. And he is also willing to take some risks and try, although the risks are more difficult to explain, I think he is quite cautious.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He lasts a very long time! In the end, he goes in for sports, and every athlete should have endurance training (CrossFit, my love :b ). So... 7-15? Yes, somewhere in this segment.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Well, I doubt he'll have toys since he'd be embarrassed to buy them, which is funny. But he is absolutely not against them, almost everything that you want, he is ready to try.

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

He's not a fan of teasing. If he starts teasing you, then most likely his animal instincts will take over and he will immediately stop doing it and get down to business. This also applies to teasing on your part. He just might lose some control over himself.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Fairly quiet 3-4/10. Although still a pleasant, deep, low voice. But it is unlikely to ever become too high and loud. Quiet moans, sighs, maybe whining. No more.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

Well... He loves sex in the shower. The way water runs down your naked body while you fuck him/suck him off/finger him/etc gets him too turned on for no apparent reason. His hands instinctively grab at least something and in the end he breaks one of the shelves.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Very muscular, sculpted body! A few training scars, well, because he's a wolf after all. The penis is slightly larger than average, maybe 6-7 inches / 15-17 cm. But it is quite thick in girth due to its knot.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It is variable. When he's not in heat it's low, he doesn't want to do it too much, he's not some kind of nymphomaniac after all. He thinks it's too sensual to practice too often. But if he's in heat... I suggest you take a deep breath in and out, buddy.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fell asleep afterwards)

If the action was at night, then he will fall asleep almost immediately. Although, if it was in the daytime, he would not fall asleep. But if you want to take a nap with him for a while or just lie around, then he will gladly please you with this.

#seme male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #a!writes.#sub character #sub twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #jack x male reader #sub jack #jack smut #jack x reader #jack howl x reader #jack howl x male reader #sub jack howl #jack howl smut #twisted wonderland headcanons

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 2 years ago

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Hello, I see that questions about relationships and courtship are open :D If it's okay with you, could I have Jamil and Leona, please?Number 5, 12, 16 and 28 ;)Thank you in advance!! You have a great blog! <3

Leona Kingscholar:

5. ♥ Do they wait to be intimate until after marriage or break all the social rules?

Leona breaks rules because he can, or pushes the very limits just to see how far he can go before it all falls apart. All eyes aren’t on him, at least most aren’t, aside from his nosy family members and those in the guard who may not trust his ambition. He knows how to pull the wool over Fareena’s eyes for the most part, though his sister-in-law is a different case. He’s not a patient man but he’s not pushy either; if he only wanted a night or two of fun he would’ve never committed to begin with, so you can take that to heart if you doubt his feelings.

12. ♥ Do they seek to find a partner purely to further the bloodline and name, is it for true love, or is it for pleasure alone?

Leona laughed at the thought of furthering his bloodline. Subject his child to 2nd place by default their entire life? Yeah, right. It’s a thought that drifts with time as he can’t help but want an heir himself, he refers to it as his natural kingly want even without being a king, but you think he just wants to raise a fighter willing to look out for the ‘little guy’ too just in case Cheka doesn’t do a good enough job. There is something to be said about the kinds of people he’d choose to date, ones that would be suitable for family life if they wanted it. Dating is mostly left to his own whims and he doesn’t do it often, if at all, as getting to know new people was a hassle and he hated wasting his own time.

16. ♥ Do they have at least one bonding activity they devote to doing with their partner exclusively?

Napping. Yes, yes, very stereotypical for the lazy lion but he didn’t trust just anyone to join him. Sleeping soundly around another person was like exposing your belly in a room full of predators; you wouldn’t do it if you felt like you’d be torn to shreds. He’s placing his trust in you to keep him safe and warm while he slumbers. He doesn’t reveal his expectations of you being his pillow until it’s far too late for you to run.

28. ♥ Do they understand their partners/person they are courtings feelings without them having to say anything?

Leona is as sharp as a carnivore’s claw. Many things could be said about him but his intelligence was rarely in question. He might not always verbally confirm things, but the longer you’re together the more familiar he is with you. Conscious or unconscious, he noticed the way you move or hold yourself, the way you speak and the specific words you pick whether you’re coddling someone or in an argument. He’s aware when you divert from your norm, whether its due to anger or sadness or embarrassment. It’s like chess, a game he’s quite good at, and you’re always stunned when he finally calls you out when he asks for the ‘why’ behind your changes.

Jamil Viper:

5. ♥ Do they wait to be intimate until after marriage or break all the social rules?

Jamil doesn’t have any strong feelings one way or the other, but you do notice he’s the type to take it slow. He’s not embarrassed by physical affection per se but the closer you get, the more you feel him tense. He’s worried about getting too attached too fast, and while the sanctity of marriage isnt the first thing on his mind, there are some interactions you have that are so domestic Jamil can’t help but daydream about what married life might consist of with you.

12. ♥ Do they seek to find a partner purely to further the bloodline and name, is it for true love, or is it for pleasure alone?

Jamil isn’t entirely game to have children, for a variety of reasons that include not wanting them to be in servitude from birth. He has doubts, feeling guilty if a family is something you had always wanted, but he had never really seen that for himself. But he also can’t say he’s seen romance for himself either, or that anyone would want to date him despite his loyalty being sworn to another, so there’s a chance for change and he might be willing to reconsider a childless future.

16. ♥ Do they have at least one bonding activity they devote to doing with their partner exclusively?

Sightseeing. This only applied when you were out of the country, likely at the whim of Kalim going on his royal duties, but Jamil is given enough ‘personal time’ when he’s surrounded by the royal guards of other families. He liked to drag you around with him to places of interest, from the markets to the ruins that seem to line every city; his eyes always glow when he’s left to adventure on his own with no obligations to reassure the safety of who he’s with, though he is wary about going anywhere dangerous when you’re tagging along with him.

28. ♥ Do they understand their partners/person they are courtings feelings without them having to say anything?

Wires can get crossed from time to time, but Jamil isn’t stupid. He knows how to read people to an extent and he can be hyperaware of his surroundings due to his job, so he noticed plenty about you. Some little habits, the way you acted when you were happy or upset or contemplating existence, he just never knew how to use that to his advantage. Learning how to use the information you present him is more the issue he’s presented with but never doubt that Jamil will figure it out for the sake of keeping you as his.

#Twisted Wonderland #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Disney TWST #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Leona Kingscholar #Jamil Viper #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Jamil Viper x Reader #Courting Meme

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snipersfucker · 2 years ago

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Hello :)

I saw that you were taking Mirage request and I wanted to ask if you can do Mirage x a fem reader were Mirage has a crush on the reader and has the habit of holding her like she is a cat and also maybe a confession? :D *the picture is a example XD*

this is so cute oh my

Mirage was a good friend.

Ever since Noah introduced him to you, he's been nothing but kind. Always finding time to talk to you and see you, even though he had his Autobot duties, always making sure you were either laughing or smiling, never allowing you to feel down when you were around him.

It's always been like that. And the idea that these little, innocent touches of his metal skin on yours, his optics that stayed on your face just a bit longer than anybody else's, the sweet, teasing nicknames he'd use when talking to you, would be anything other than Mirage being a good, caring friend has never really crossed your mind.

A robot fancying a human? That sounded absolutely insane.

But not to him. Oh, not once has he thought of his feelings towards you as not possible, strange, inappropriate. He'd rather describe anyone not being completely head-over-heels for you as such. It was just so easy for him to fall for you, it came naturally.

At the same time, as much as he'd love to just be around you all the time, hold you like the most precious treasure that you were, and call you his, he'd rather fight Scourge again than risk ruining your friendship because you didn't reciprocate his crush. And as self-confident as he might sound, he was quite unsure of whether you felt the same or was just being friendly.

So he didn't tell you anything. He stayed silent, bottling everything up, just trying to enjoy his moments with you, occasionally allowing himself to do something more, to get a bit closer to you than he normally would. Something that'd be more intimate than just sitting next to you, something that'd let him actually feel you.

And, God, he felt bad. He did feel bad for his touches not being completely innocent, even though he couldn't even imagine disrespecting you by crossing any of your boundaries. He just needed something more.

So there he was, standing in front of you, his servos on his hips as he looked down at you with his signature smirk.

"You seen these muscles?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't going to flex his strength just now, lazily motioning to his upper half with a digit, "I could lift seven trucks with one hand," he added, his tone not changing its colour.

He might've been exaggerating but it was for comedic purposes only so he could do that.

When you asked him how many pounds he'd be able to lift, you weren't exactly expecting an honest answer. Mirage both liked to act all tough and strong, but you also knew that he's never really checked how much weight he could actually pick up. So the conversation just turned into a playful banter as per usual.

"I weight eight trucks," you said with a straight face. These words left your mouth not because you were trying to sound like an insecure attention-seeker, but because you wanted to tease him. And it was best done by doubting his abilities and deflating his huge ego. "Don't think you can handle that."

It was childish and you were well aware of it but you enjoyed it too much to stop. It's always been like that and you hoped it'd never be any different.

"Oh, you should see the things I've handled..." he trailed off, the look on his face indicating that the stuff he was referring to was at least impressive. He knew you weren't serious, and you were aware of his actual strength.

His tone was funny. As if he was trying to appear at least a bit humble but failing tremendously. With his chin higher, optical ridges slightly raised, a confident smile on his face plate, he looked like a typical show-off, almost typical Mirage.

The sight made you snicker quietly under your nose.

You didn't know the direction the conversation was going in but he did. He knew what he wanted to do and he knew it was one of the rare occasions in which he was be able to allow himself to do something more, just like he'd craved for a long time.

His reaction to your small laugh was immediate. Even though you weren't making fun of him, he could pretend that it offended him. That you provoked him to prove you otherwise, that he could, in fact, lift you up with ease. So he lowered himself just enough for his servos to meet your body, wrapped them gently around your waist and picked you up. Just like a person holding a cat.

Now that your eyes were on the level of his optics, although not close enough for your warm breath to hit his face plate, you could see his confident smirk in its full glory.

"Show-off," you muttered under your breath with a small smile, even though you knew he could hear you, his audio receptors picking up on most sounds in a very big radius.

She's so soft. She's so soft...

"Oh, yeah," he scoffed, shaking his head in amusement, not letting you see how much he wanted to just keep you between his servos forever. "It's okay, dude, you can just say that you wanted me to hold you, I won't judge," he added, his tone light, casual, projecting. He shrugged with nonchalance on his face as if it was actually the truth and he wouldn't be mad at you if you wanted him to touch you like that.

Projecting.

And he called you dude. He called you dude because sweetheart felt too intimate at the moment, too heartfelt, as if he was scared that the position you two were in and that nickname rolling off his glossa towards your ears would make you realise he likes you. And he didn't want that.

"I feel like a damn cat, M..." you muttered again, placing your hands on his in a poor attempt to push them away for your body. But your smile betrayed you.

His spark almost exploded when he felt your warm hands on his metal ones.

"I'll let you sell me if you meow right now."

He had to say something, otherwise you'd notice the hearts in his optics that appeared when he was staring at you.

His words made you giggle and shake your head in amusement. "I'd sell you without you even realising it," you decided to respond with something more sassy, a smirk and a raised eyebrow only adding to the whole effect.

"You'd get rid of that pretty face?" He tilted his helm slightly, attempting to sound offended and hurt by your statement.

You shook your head in amusement again, letting out a soft sigh.

Mirage gasped dramatically, his face again showing pretend hurt. "You don't think I'm pretty?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

He loved every second of it.

You looked up at him, turning your lips into a thin line, as if you didn't have enough courage to tell him that you, in fact, didn't find him pretty, even though you did.

"You..." he gasped again, and if he wasn't holding you in his hands, he would put his servo on his spark just to add another dramatic effect. Then, a brilliant idea crossed his mind, "Air jail."

He turned his head to the side as much as he could to still be able to see you in his peripheral vision, straightening his arms fully so that you were as far from him as possible but still touching him.

"Mirage," you said his names as a warning. He knew you wanted him to place you on the floor again but air jail was definitely a real thing in his world.

"You deserve it," he said, his tone mean but not actually sounding like he meant it.

She's so cute. So cute...

"Mirage," you repeated his name sternly, although still playfully enough for him to know that you wanted this to continue, and his spark sped up.

"Tell me I'm pretty."

He sounded like a little toddler throwing a fit which nearly made you giggle but you decided to play along.

"...No."

So warm, so warm...

He scoffed at the word. Dramatically. Just to let you know you didn't actually hurt his feelings.

"You asked for it," he said nonchalantly, fake offence still lingering somewhere in his tone.

He felt smart. So smart for making something up just so he could hold you for a little longer, hoping you wouldn't mind if he did it playfully some time in the future again.

A few moments passed. The only thing he could focus on was your skin against his. The silence normally wouldn't bother him much but this time he felt as if you could practically hear his thoughts about yourself.

"Okay, Jesus. You're pretty," you muttered, rolling your eyes. The slight curl of your lips betrayed you again.

He was not expecting you to actually say that. His helm turned in your direction way faster than he wanted. He thanked Primus his optics didn't get as wide as they probably would've if he hadn't stopped them in time.

He knew you said it only because you wanted him to put you down on the ground. But the warmth that spread all over his metal body felt nicer than it probably should.

"Somebody's gotta crush on me..." he cooed teasingly just to cover up his own sudden nervousness.

You rolled your eyes again with a smirk.

"Floor, M."

Her voice is so soft...

He obliged. Of course he obliged, you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, you looked so pretty in his hands, you felt so warm...

You were standing on the ground again, hands on your hips as you looked up at his satisfied face plate. Cocky as always.

...And so that little thing that he came up with on spot became a part of your daily playful banters. You'd say something he didn't like, you'd end up in air jail.

You didn't mind, really, and found it rather amusing than any other thing. And this time was no different.

A few weeks after the invention of air jail, he did it again for the tenth time.

"You know I'm not putting you down till you say it, man."

Again, any other pet name sounded too intimate and it has not changed since the first time he had you in this position.

You were aware what you had to do, but it didn't stop you from being a disobeying little shit, denying him the things he wanted to hear from you.

"Airazor wouldn't date you."

He knew she wouldn't, he knew he didn't even want her to, but it was another excuse for him to hold you in his hands.

"Wrong."

"Ask her."

"I can't hear you."

"Ask her if she'd date your annoying ass."

He gasped, shaking his helm in disapproval as he looked at you with fake disappointment.

"Damn..." he pretended to feel hurt by your words, a sad expression on his face plate.

You frowned, at first with confusion at his sudden change of demeanor, and then with worry. You were worried that you actually said too much, that you said something wrong.

And noticing the look on your face, Mirage's immediately lightened up, showing him that he was joking as per usual.

"I hate you," you said as soon as you noticed he wasn't actually affected my your words.

"Nah. You love me," he said nonchalantly, shrugging, acting as if it was actually true.

"Nope." You shook your head. "I'm afraid it's one-sided,' you added with fake pity, acting like it was him who loved you without you reciprocating it.

And even though you were absolutely joking, he panicked.

Could you possibly know about his feelings? Has he been too obvious? What was it? Was he supposed to play along? Or was it the right time to tell you that he fell for you so hard he couldn't bear the thought of not being around you for more than a minute?

"I love you," he blurted out and cussed himself out in his mind for doing it in such a... disappointing way.

It wasn't him. He knew it wasn't him. Old Mirage would have never confessed his feeling like that. He would have never even feel anything so strong towards another being, the idea of confessing it too distant that it would never even cross his mind.

You changed him.

It felt strange. It felt strange to say these three words to you, he stopped feeling like himself for a few moments.

Strange but at the same time... good. He could sense the relief washing over his body as the confession left his mouth but the weight of the fear of rejection was still suffocating.

He wanted to repeat it. The three words threatened to roll off his glossa again but he swallowed them, noticing the way you reacted to them the first time.

"M..." you trailed off, too stunned to say anything else.

He wished your voice was less soft. Less careful.

"Yep," he said awkwardly, putting you down on the floor immediately. He nodded to himself. "Shouldn't have said that."

He was close to cussing himself out in front of you but he wanted to both do it in his helm and then later when you'd be gone.

Gone from his life forever...

"Nope, I actually meant it," he corrected himself, not really knowing what to say, feeling extremely out of place, acting more awkwardly than ever. "Friend."

He called you a friend just to save himself but he was fully aware it might've been too late for that.

"I love you as a friend, dude," he added again, making a finger-gun with one of his servos and pointing it at you.

It was getting worse and worse with every passing second.

He looked at you, standing without any movements, searching for any positive reaction on your face.

"Mirage..."

You used his name which meant you were most likely about to tell him that you were sorry, and that you didn't feel the same, and that you didn't want to have him in your—

"I love you."

His spark stopped.

He kept staring at you but then finally managed to get the courage to ask, just to make sure, "As a friend?" His voice was sceptical, as if he was expecting a negative answer. Which he obviously was.

You took a deep breath in and gave him a soft look.

"Not as a friend, got it," he interpreted your non-verbal response, nodding to himself a couple of times, breaking eye contact to look at the garage wall in front of him to collect himself. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, "Well, unfortunately I love you as a friend, so..." he trailed off with an unserious look on his face plate, his funny self finally making a comeback.

You scoffed, crossing your arms on your chest and shaking your head in both disbelief and amusent.

The audacity this man had...

"Alright, fine," he groaned, pretending not to like what was about to leave his mouth, "I love you as maybe just a bit more than a friend."

"Mirage..." you warned him for the third time today.

"I love you as a lot more than a friend," he corrected himself, not wanting to push it too much.

The eye contact was back.

"You're makin' me wanna giggle right now," he said randomly, as if it was a normal thing to say after confessing his undying love to a woman.

You snorted.

"The giggles are getting stronger. I can't hold 'em back," he said in a slightly warning tone, the seriousness in it making your smile grown bigger.

You both stared at each other just for mere second before you both erupted with laughter.

He did giggle.

"I love you, man," he repeated when you both calmed down after a few moments, "And I will stop calling you man. Someday. Promise," he added when he realised he didn't use sweetheart this time either.

"Yeah, of course." You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as you both looked into each other's eyes with warmth. "I love you, too."

And he smiled, finally feeling at home.

A/N: i used an insecure attention seeker instead of a pick-me even though i hate both but i couldn't really describe it differently lmao also, emotions give me an ick so it may be a bit cringey but we roll. and it's so bad (im just saying that so yall could give me compliments) cuz i haven't written anything in a while..... and the ending made me nearly throw up.....

#mirage #mirage x my pussy #mirage x you #mirage x reader #mirage rotb #mirage transformers #transformers rotb #transformers #mirage smut #mirage fluff #mirage angst #rotb

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citrinae · 3 months ago

Text

avoid the crowds.

law x reader

summary; you're an aspiring biologist, hard-working on your phd. when you're coupled with your colleague law to enrich your research, you're mortified to discover that other's personal projects may be a little more ambitious than you’d anticipate.

contents; gravedigging, only a pinch of gore, explicit at times, toxic attachments, love/hate, smoking, references to mary shelley because i’m a nerd & law is pathetic, college/academia!AU, gn!reader, wc: 2k. this is actually my very first time writing for this freak, intensely praying that i did him justice. check here for more spooktober shenanigans.

masterlist

Dirt on your shoes, on your jeans, under your nails. Pushing a lit cigarette between your lips, you realise your hands are slightly trembling. It’s slowly that you take the smoke in, a burning sensation into your lungs making you forget about the cold creeping up your cheeks, your ankles and into your bones, and you keep it there for a moment. Your eyes wander to the number of gravestones carrying the memory of someone’s friend, partner, or sibling, all cared for and regretfully gone. There’s a rustle coming from your right, boot sliding on the ground before his knee bumps into yours. With his hat he brushes the dirt off his lap.

“This shit is bad for your health,” Law says, with a hint of superiority that has you pursing your lips around the cigarette.

“These guys haven’t seen a pub in decades,” you manage to keep your cool. “Thought they wouldn’t mind if I brought them a piece of memory.”

He doesn’t play along. “They are dead. I doubt they care about much of anything.”

“How do you expect your students to like you if you can’t even take a joke?” you say through an exhale.

“Honestly?” Law props his weight on the shovel he’s dug into the ground, legs spread. “The very few students I’ve had so far were actually funny.”

“Fuck you,” you huff. “Honestly.”

“Kindly reminding you that we’re in a cemetery,” he drones. “I'd restrain my libido for when we get back.”

You give him a look, still not believing he said that. His fingers—long, nimble, tattooed at the knuckles—rest atop his knees as he absently watches ahead. He’s slack in track pants and sweater, not that tonight makes him any different from the way you’ve always known him—cold, laid back. The sky is dark, only a few hours away from dawn. At your feet lingers a plastic bag he’s filled with everything needed for his fun little science project.

Or rather, your fun little science project, now that you found out about it and agreed to let him do his magic before your eyes. The only condition was that you do it quietly—so far, you’re being terrible at it, and still he keeps you by like some sort of low-cost apprentice. Looking at the spots where dirt has been immaculately removed and battered back into place, your stomach threatens to turn.

How have you ended up like this?

(There was someone in your research group; a guy called Trafalgar D. Water Law. A brilliant fellow, a committed academic. A little bit of an asshole, if you were to be completely honest. Law rarely ever spoke to the rest of you, let alone spend time with the group. Frequented the lab when you were about to call it a day and left early in the morning, just before you'd put on your whitecoats, fluorescent light droning overhead and steam hovering from coffee mugs. The nights were when he liked to work the most, doing whatever the fuck he was up to. Your PhD coordinator said something about reinventing surgery; but not even they were able to run into further detail. You were all too buried in your own projects to pry.

Water gathered at the tip of your nose and dripped onto your shoe. Your clothes were soaked and plastered to your skin; you hadn’t expected to rain that night.

“Jesus fuck,” you managed under your breath. There was a dense, awful smell lingering in the air, the door to the research room locked with no spare key to use. “Law, are you in there?”

Movement on the other side, pretending you didn’t exist. Your hair curled at your nape, wet and cold, and a feverish sensation began to climb up your temples.

You tried again. “I left my journal in here, and, uhm,” scratching your head, “see I really needed to look up some notes tonight. May I come in and fetch it so I can leave you be?”

Still no answer; you were starting to get angry.

You also needed a towel.

“Listen up you freak,” through gritted teeth. “I don’t give two shits about what you’re doing or how many dicks you had to suck to be allowed to act like you own this fucking place. My day was bad enough to only care about my stupid little notes I left in that stupid little room, so please, for the love of god, open the door or else I’ll break a window or something and tab the damage on your weird ass name.”

“Who’s breaking what?” It was coming from behind; you turned, and stopped. Wiping his hands with a white washcloth, there stood Law, hoodie sleeves rolled to elbows, dark hair dishevelled, bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

The sounds you were hearing from inside the workroom didn’t cease. You felt heavy with the onset of a headache.

“But if you’re here,” you said, incredulous. “Then who’s—” a second of thought. “What’s—”

Folding his arms, fabric thrown over his shoulder, “Yeah?”

The words felt weird leaving you, “What do you keep in there?”

“Nothing to be concerned about,” Law said, plainly. He seemed to know better than coming up with an excuse. There were steps that you heard, after all, nothing a branch against a window or a vending machine could replace.

“You were saying you needed something?” he added, searching his pockets. “Let me get that for you, stay right there.”

But you didn’t stay put. You couldn’t. Shortly after watching him turn the key into the lock, careful not to reveal much of what awaited him inside, impulse had you setting your foot in the door. An elbow pressed on steel, a tattoo beat into floor tiles. And you could hardly hear the disturbed hiss leaving him now that you were facing a true miracle of modern medicine.)

They say the secrets of Heaven and Earth ought to stay in the palms of the one behind their making, for the man was made a crafty artist, but, alas, uncompleted. Understanding is a bottomless pit, only for the divine to fill and look after. But why are they to be frowned upon, half-made creatures, clinging to the knowledge that would make them whole?

(A strange friendship took shape that night. You agreed to keep the secret and Law allowed you to keep him company during the nights, borrowing notes, studying equipment. Little of this brought anything new to your own research, and yet, being in Law’s presence felt like a giant leap in your career. You wouldn’t be made to admit it, but you admired him, and at the same time he seemed almost content with the ease at which you were navigating the dense volume of research. As far as work was concerned, you were making a surprisingly good team—that you could both agree on despite your infuriating personalities.

Some uneventful nights you would fiddle with his earrings as he measured the diameter of a human limb. Some other nights, his hand would flatten across your back as he showed you how man-made particles quivered and dispersed under the microscope. Your eyes ached from lack of sleep but your curiosity was a persistent fiend, always hungry for more, begging to be kept entertained. Slowly you found yourself disconnected from everything happening around you other than your undergraduate classes and lab work. Everything in your world revolved around science, and consequently, around Law.

But spending so much time around each other would soon get the best—or worst—of you both, on a night just as rainy as the one you started working together. There was an hour left until the sky would start bleeding into a deep gradient of blues, two before the building would be animated with swarms of steps and voices. Tables had been diligently swept with no trace of your nightly work, equipment dismantled and notebooks locked away—just like Law instructed you to. Your steps echoed down the hallways of the facility, dark and empty, comfortable silence lingering between your forms as you were heading out. Exhaustion crept into your body to the point walking felt like floating. To your left, Law’s breathing seemed heavier than usual. You found yourself cagily tracing the contours of his hair, his ear, his neck and shoulder, stopping at his hand that he kept buried into a pocket.

A beat later, too soon to tell how it happened, you were pressed against a wall, Law’s stare taking from confused to determined as he tried to keep up with his own actions.

There was a pause.

“You don’t have the guts,” you provoked, adrenaline pushing your mouth into a smirk.

Law clicked his tongue. Then he kissed you, deeply, viciously, and you returned it without much thought. White hat collapsed on the floor as your fingers struggled to make their way through his hair, digging themselves into his scalp, touching and searing everything they found in their reach. Standing so close to him you were surprised to catch a faint trace of cologne lingering under all the metal and soap and formalin he worked with. Your head spun. His hand was cold as it touched you under your sweater; with his other he had to cover your mouth to keep a sound from coming out.

It didn’t stop you. He urged you somewhere more secluded.)

You flick the ashes off your cigarette. “Hey,” you say, trying to figure out the inscription chiselled on a gravestone. “Is it fair? To disturb these people’s peace like that?”

Law breathes out, heavily, a little shaken himself. He thinks about it for a moment. Then, massaging a temple, he says, “I think it’s a little too late to ask yourself this.” He’s right.

“Maybe.” It’s faint, distracted.

Some would say you’re giving them a second chance; you know that’s not the case here. None of you wants nothing out of this but the Promethean high of discovery. Performing miracles with a scalpel and needle, building an universe of your own.

Wind blows in your direction, sharp like a slap in the face, and your body starts coiling within itself as it does.

(Your research sessions carried on like this. Passing thread through layers of dead skin, sinking your teeth into Law’s skin moments later. Papers and pens and scissors scattered on the floor. Bodies feverish and drenched in sweat. Taking his chin between thumb and forefinger, you relished the faces he made after claiming that you inspire him. With his cock deep inside you, Law admitted he was glad to have found a use for that foul mouth of yours. When you use it to say his name, he added on, his voice grave and possessive, beard tickling your earshell, it makes him believe your voice was sewed for him.)

“Time to go,” Law says, already back on his feet.

You insist that he carries the bag. And so he does, hoisting it around his shoulder without much care for its contents. You stub out your cigarette under your foot, and your eyes roll heavenwards when he demands that you pick the thing up.

“I was meaning to,” you sneer, bending down. “Who do you take me for?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Law hands you the shovel.

“For the record,” dusting off your jeans, “When faculty reviews are up, I’m ruining your ass.”

Law’s smirk is offensive. “Double-check your spelling before sending anything in.”

No one says a word on the way back to the facility. With weight propped on your shoulders and stars hiding one by one behind the horizon, the moment feels almost serene, and you dismiss the impulse to close your eyes because you know you will be falling asleep as soon as you do. For now, you end up settling with this space between dream and reality, hoping that maybe, somewhere, awaits the truth you’ve been working so hard to earn.

#one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x you #one piece scenario #spooktober 2024

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