#i hate it it was the last thing they asked too so it was over w a bad impression

[thebibliosphere]

Wait, is Jason in Gotham Knights body horror? Because it doesn't feel like his body even tho he's controlling it? (He died, he came back, it's not the same and never will be)

Or is it more analogous to puberty and feeling like you don't know anything about your body anymore?

Just having thoughts about that boy again

I think Jason in Gotham Knights is very much connected with his physical body. It's his biggest weapon, possibly more so than his guns, given his lasting connection to the Lazarus Pit and the power it gives him.

His backstory talks about building himself up to peak physical condition into the absolute unit he is now, and you can either see that as someone trying to reconnect with their physical self or someone vowing never to be small or weak again.

I tend to think of it as both. It's a reclamation of his physical form but also a transformation into something bigger and stronger that ensures he's the scariest, meanest-looking mother fucker in the room. Basically someone you can't underestimate as a threat.

(Try not to think too hard about the fact that he now largely resembles Bruce in stature, that he is now the group's heavy hitter, the most menacing and the most likely to strike fear into the heart of his opponents, and that Jason molded himself into the person he needed to be rescued by as a child. Don't do it. Do not. I am normal about this.)

But he obviously struggles with feeling present mentally sometimes.

You'll see him zoning out occasionally, touching the J-shaped scar on his face before violently shaking himself back into the present.

He has panic attacks while playing a dance video game with a coffin in it—a coffin his character becomes trapped in because he's not moving fast enough. (hello, trauma)

He's angry all the time and so relieved when Barbra expresses her own rage at something because, yes, finally, someone else is letting their emotions out instead of bottling it up (Dick).

His emails are littered with orders for self-help books, emails from his therapist moving his sessions around, and concerned messages from his friends (Roy comes to mind) saying if he needs to get out of Gotham, they'll make it happen.

Alfred holding him while he sobs over losing Bruce still breaks me every time. I have to pause the game and walk around my house until I feel normal again.

And then there's the cut scene where Dick asks, "Hey, remember that time we all [insert funny thing here]," and Jason admits, somewhat angrily, that no, he doesn't because Lazarus took entire swaths of memories from him and he hates how he can't connect with people the way he used to and he hates the way they all look at him (the way Dick is looking at him now) when he admits he doesn't remember something they clearly loved about the old him: the version of him who didn't have volatile mood swings or made people flinch when he did something as mundane as handle a kitchen knife -- the undead monster he came back as*.

The fact that Dick then contrives to recreate this memory so Jason can be included in a newer version of it -- while also giving him what is arguably a weapon -- fucks me up every time. Dick just yeets a kitchen knife at him, trusting that Jason will catch it, and then just steamrolls over Jason's rightful 'what the fuck' expression with "Hey, we're making food. Get dicing."

And Jason knows what they're all doing. He's aware of it, and he gets the teeniest, tiniest smile before smothering it out. Except he can't quite. He's still smiling as he chops the vegetables. And yes, they're all hopeless at cooking compared to him, and he knows he's going to end up taking over, but that's okay. Because this is for him. He gets to control it.

And that's how Jason gets to make a new memory, one where he is handed a weapon and gets to turn it into a genuine expression of nurturing and care.

Because he does care about them. He wouldn't conspire with Dick to bake Barbara's favorite childhood cookies if he didn't. He wouldn't try so hard to be gentle with Tim triggering the shit out of him while he's struggling with his grief. He just doesn't always know how to express it because he doesn't always know what he's feeling.

Is his anger valid? Or is this Lazarus Pit Rage? Is he being overly sensitive because of his trauma, or is everyone else underreacting because of their trauma? (Should he sign them all up for therapy, quite probably, yes.)

So, you could perhaps argue that Jason experiences body horror in the sense that he doesn't remember all the pieces of who he used to be. (Speaking as someone with severe memory loss from medical trauma, it's certainly a type of horror.) But I don't think it's because he's detached from it physically or doesn't feel in control of his body. I think it's his mind that worries him.

His body he can control. It's his mind that still sparks green sometimes.

---

*Re the scene with Tim when Tim calls the Talons monsters. "What about me? Do you think I'm a monster?"

No, they don't.

But Jason does. And it scares him shitless.

[lucybellwood]

Lemme tell you a gay little story about an eagle.

Our town (~9,000 people) has a couple garages, but there's a big one on the main drag. My family has been going there for decades. I drive past it every day.

There used to be a huge pine tree on the corner of their lot, but last year it became a hazard and had to be taken down.

Shortly thereafter I drive by and see they've hired a guy to chainsaw sculpt the stump into a bald eagle.

Birds own my heart, but nationalism makes me twitchy. I withhold outright condemnation of the eagle, but I'm skeptical. (The original owner—an objectively Good Dude—sold the business to a younger couple a few years ago, and I don't have any knowledge of their whole deal.)

Then it turns out someone on staff is really into making costumes for the eagle. Every holiday. Every month. Stuffed turkey, witch costume, menorah headpiece, bunny ears. These people love to dress their bird.

The changing of the eagle suit becomes a source of joy every time I drive through town.

Until June, when the eagle is bare.

Now look, maybe I'm expecting too much asking my garage to celebrate Pride. But this is a small town. Every time I drive by that stupid eagle—this thing that has previously brought me so much joy—I feel hurt. I feel reminded that there are plenty of people in my liberal bubble who don't consider my community worthy of celebration. I drive to work, I feel bad. I drive home, I feel bad. The eagle is mocking me.

Then my A/C quits working.

So I book an appointent to bring my car in—and realize what I have to do.

I pick all this up at a thrift store for under ten bucks. I print the shirt with some weird heat-transfer fabric crayons I find in a cupboard. I loop gold elastic around the sunglasses and pray they'll fit on the eagle's head. (It is also important to draw your attention to the price of the feather boa.)

(Nice.)

My reasoning is thus: if I show up with a complete costume ready to go, someone will have to look me in the eye and say "We don't believe in that," at which point I'll be finding a new garage. But if they let me dress the eagle, then people in town get to have the joy I've been missing since the start of the month.

I listen to a lot of hype-up jams on my way over. I hate confrontation. I also don't wanna have to find another garage. I want to believe that this decision isn't actively antagonistic, but I'm not particularly hopeful.

I talk through the A/C issue with the guy at the desk, hand over my keys, then take a deep breath.

"Who's in charge of the eagle?"

"Oh, that's all Dylan. Second bay from the end."

I walk down the row of hydraulic lifts and find a disarmingly smiley middle-aged man pouring fluid through a funnel. I introduce myself and explain that, since the Pride parade is this Sunday and the eagle seems to be missing a costume, I have taken the liberty of making one myself, and can I get his blessing to go put it on?

Dylan grins this absolutely giant grin and goes

"Oh hell yeah."

So that's what's up now.

Happy Pride.

[namikawa]

— [the perfect host]

featuring: s. geto, s. gojo

cw: smut, implied threesome, cunnulingus, implied m/m, phone sex (?), daddy kink (ofc), established relationship (reader & gojo), fingering, fem reader, chubby reader, getting “caught” masturbating, use of the word cunt (sorry lol), aftercare, not proofread fr, anything else i forgot lolz, pet names (mama, baby, pretty, sweetheart, love). wc: n/a.

notes: this is actually a fic my friend wrote (never published) & i re did it with two diff characters & finished it for her cause she never did… so if yall like it GO TO HER BLOG ILL TAG HER. this wasn’t my og idea i just wrote the smut and tweaked & added. but enjoy pls, sorry i haven’t posted in so long life has beat me up. @nvmjccnluv !!!

“so explain to me why i’m watching her again, she seems completely capable of staying in your apartment alone yknow.” suguru questions over the phone. it’s not that he hates you, but what if he was busy? he wasn’t, but gojo didn’t need to know that, he didn’t even ask to be fair. quickly dropping you off after handing the long haired man a small bag of your things.

on the other end of the phone gojo lets out a huff of laughter. “had a few things to finish up, she gets too lonely when i leave her at home so i didn’t want her getting into things. you know how it is.”

“i actually don’t, but okay man.”

“anyway, she doesn’t like many people but she didn’t seem to mind you the last time we hung out, you seemed like a safe option.” gojo continues, sounding a bit strained.

“okay, whatever, fine.”

“where’s she at anyways? if she was with you she would’ve jumped your bones to get to the phone.”

walking toward the the closed door in the hallway, geto chuckles before reassuring his friend. “relax dude, she’s in the room taking a na- holy shit.”

-

“what happened??”

the dark haired man places his ear on the door to make sure he’s not hallucinating, not saying that he’s hoping to be.

muffled moans greet his ears, but not muffled enough evidently. no, you wanted him to hear. he would have to pass by your room anyways, given that you two would be sharing a wall for the night. but him being on the phone with your boyfriend was just a coincidence, an extremely embarrassing one.

he listens to your soft whines and high pitched whimpers for what feels like days, though its hasn’t even been half a minute, paying no mind to the man yelling at him on the phone.

“SUGURU? ANSWER ME! IS SHE OKAY? I SWEAR IF SOMETHING HAPPE-” at this point geto tries to think as hard as possible to come up with a lie that won’t get him killed by his friend.

snapping out of his daze, he finally gets enough courage to respond, “yeah um i’m pretty sure, maybe i’m wrong, i think she’s uh masturbating.”

“oh, oh okay” suguru can basically hear a smirk he knows all to well forming on gojos mouth. “don’t be a rude host, go help her out man.”

what the fuck is he talking about help you out? he can’t be understanding that this is his girlfriend he’s talking about, right? on top of that, shouldn’t he be asking you for consent as well.

“are you insane man? i know you’re into all that weird shit, but her? she’d probably kill me before i even got close to the bed and throw my dead body out of my own apartment.” as nice as it sounds he didn’t know if you’d be okay with any of this. he wasn’t going to just walk straight in, right?

there’s a loud howl that comes directly from the other end of the phone. “are you really being this much of a pussy right now? i’m giving you full permission to go help my girl out, and you wanna whine about how she might kill y-”

“shut the hell up man, i didn’t say anything about being a pussy.”

“alright, then there shouldn’t be an issue with you helping her out. don’t sit up on your high horse and act like you haven’t thought about it before, i know just how those perverted thoughts of yours work, don’t you rememb-”

“okay okay shut up satoru, im going.”

pushing open the door, the first thing geto notices is your hand rubbing lightly between your soft thighs and how your wetness soaks the bed, clear evidence of how needy you were. how long have you been at it?

gojo can hear you so clearly over the phone, he might as well be in the room with you, “shit, is that her pussy i’m hearing? whats it look like?” he questions, but unfortunately for him he receives no answer.

suguru is too busy enjoying the view and listening to the pathetic little sounds coming from your cunt. his sweatpants are slowly starting to fit a little tighter than before, but he doesn’t make any movements yet, just in case you don’t wanna play this little game.

almost immediately your soft eyes flutter open and lock into his, and he swears he just came in his pants.

“sugi, please, it hurts so much,” you whine out to him, desperate for his veiny hands on you. your own hand never seems to falter though, only moving in more erratic circles around your sensitive clit; while your other hand is busy touching your nipples, trying to get the most stimulation possible.

knowing that you were just as needy for him as he was for you made the man’s confidence peak. he gives you a light smile as he walks closer to the bed, softly sitting down next to you. he leans over you a bit, close enough to where you can smell the minty, almost overpowering, scent of his shampoo. half his hair loosely tied up in a bun, the other half falling past his shoulders as he looks down at you.

“something wrong, pretty? those fingers not doing enough for you, right? don’t ‘cha wanna wait for your boyfriend to come back so he can help you out, he’s on the phone you know.”

his soft hands begin to work at your thighs, but it seems like it’ll never be any more than that. continuing for a little longer, he presses the speaker button on his phone, handing it over to you as you pull away from your core.

“can you hear me, sweetheart?” gojo asks, now finally getting some time to speak to you after being ignored for so long. “i gave sugi permission to help you out, okay? does that sound alright to you?” he utilizes the small nickname you’d given his friend, innocently coercing you to be good.

you give a small “mmm” in agreement. then, opening your legs, you grab at suguru’s hand and place it between your thighs, just barely touching your cunt.

gojo continues, smiling to himself on the other side of the device. “‘kay. i’m gonna talk you through it, just so i know you’re treating my girl right. take two of your fingers and stuff it inside of her, she’ll clench up at first but just keep working at it and she’ll open up, okay? maybe if you do good, you can have something too.”

geto lets out an annoyed breath, short, but just long enough for gojo to catch it. he knows what that means. what’s even stopping him from fucking you in first place? it’s not like gojo would know. but as he looks into your pleading eyes he realizes he’d do anything to make sure you’re content and happy.. even if that means listening to satoru’s perverted requests.

his fingers slide down to rub at your clit just a bit, before burying his pointer and ring finger deep into your cunt, you clench so tight around him, it makes him feel like he’s dreaming the way your teeth suck at your bottom lip attempting to hide your whines.

“cmon pretty, open up for me. promise i’ll make you feel good, okay?”

a throaty whimper slides from between your lips as geto’s fingers work you open. “‘s good sugi, please like that more.” you scoot down a little more, chasing his fingers to get even just a little more stimulation.

“next you’re gonna press on her clit, just a little though she’s a sensitive little thing.” gojo groans out, it’s obvious he’s taken a break from his work to focus on… other things.

“yeah yeah, i know how to use my fingers, asshole.” suguru voices, clearly annoyed. although, he still abides by the instructions and moves his thumb to press on your clit just a tiny bit. your back arches away from his fingers almost immediately, like a natural instinct, he grabs your plush hips with his other hand, pulling you back down. “nuh uh, c’mere sweet girl, you wanted my help you’re gonna get it.”

his delicate fingers curve upward into you and you feel as if you’re floating on cloud nine, the way he flicks them at just the right speed while managing to hold you down and deepen his movements. it’s all too much for him you.

the sound of gojo’s voice breaks geto out of his daze, “fuck, i gotta go suguru. i know you’ll take care of her. i’m gonna have to cut this shit short, i’ll try to come back later tonight instead of tomorrow morning. love you guys, love you baby, be good for sugi okay?” geto’s eyes immediately flicker to yours, and you see just a little bit of what you think could be fear, or excitement, in his eyes.

“bye daddy, love you too.” you whine out, hearing a quick click before the call ends.

“daddy?” he questions. “knew he was into some shit, didn’t know you were too, sweet girl. you’re too pretty and innocent, or at least you put up a good act.” his fingers slide out of you as he snickers, not ignoring the way you pout at the loss of stimuli.

“nah, not gonna leave you here all needy don’t worry mama, just gonna do it my way, that sound good to you?” geto grabs you by your hips as you choke out a small “yea”, pushing you closer to the headboard of the bed. he fully removes his hair tie and throws all of it up into a bun, swiftly grabbing your underwear and pulling it off.

you look down at him as he crawls closer to you on his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs and closing them around his head. you feel his fingers spread your cunt apart, licking a long stripe onto you. your body tenses up, and on instinct your hand finds its way into suguru’s hair, tugging lightly. his head perks up at you, smiling, but eventually just deciding to leave you be.

his tongue swipes over your clit, taking small breaths occasionally as he tastes your cunt. neither one of you know who this is really for at this point. he’s supposed to be ‘helping you’ but with the tent growing in his sweats he might as well be doing this for his own pleasure instead. you continue to take harsh pulls at his dark strands, so unfamiliar to you. mostly with satoru you opted for scratching at his shoulders or gripping at the sheets due to the length he kept his hair, but this, this was something you could get used to.

“sugi please, m so close, want it so bad, need you to make me cum.” you cry out, loving the way his nose rubs against your clit as he licks.

he doesn’t say anything, he can’t really, but you know he understands. he grips your thighs tighter, licking the same way as before, occasionally sucking at your clit, and before you know it you’re squirming all over his face as that familiar feeling rushes over you.

the only thing that suguru could make out of your cries were “thank you”, “so good”, and “daddy”? he wasn’t sure if you were calling him daddy or if you wanted gojo, but at this point it didn’t really matter to him. he pleased you and that’s all he needed to make him feel better.

as he lifted his head up from your pussy he could already tell how tired you were getting, he immediately grabbed you a change of clothes that gojo had packed and cleaned you up with a wet washcloth. “everything okay, mama? need anything?” your eyes strain open and you smile at the man standing above you, “i’m okay, thank you for your help. will you stay?” you could tell that he genuinely cared for you, and was worried he had done something wrong by the tone in his voice. him staying was more for him rather than yourself, not that you were complaining.

he pulled off his shirt as he crawled into bed next to you. grabbing his phone from the bedside table he saw that gojo had sent him a message.

“i’ll take care of you both when i’m back, cause i’m betting you didn’t take anything for yourself. see you both soon ;)”

suguru chuckled to himself at the message from his friend, looking down at you peacefully sleeping on his chest. maybe he could get used to something like this? but for now, he’s content.

[dulceackles]

Ambivalent Part one - The town

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, sex, violence, enemies to lovers, alcohol, all that. Mention of dead body, a little bit of horror. English is not my first language, so sorry for typos. Also, it is a Y/N, but I've created a background story and a fictional place around it for creative and storytelling reasons. Will not be describing exterior characteristics, tho!

Summary: Dean used to be really important to Y/N but ever since he suddenly left her without telling her why, she's been avoiding even mentioning him. Now, after years, he's back in town, but not because of her. There's a case. The only things she's certain is that she doesn't like him being back.

Word count: 1k

The town of Dimdale was exactly what it sounded like; small, rather boring, and they saved electricity by switching streets lights off by midnight. Not too fancy, huh? Still, it was Y/N's hometown and even tho she sometimes had dreamed of leaving, she'd never actually wanted to pack her bags.

Oily mugs the coffee house, don't ask about the name, was the town's tourist attraction if so you could say. It had been in business since the 60s, owned by the same family, and served the world's best blueberry pie. Y/N had been working there 6 years now and, you guessed it, she loved the simple job she had.

"One black coffee, please, darling!" An old man with a gray beard ordered over the counter.

"Sure, coming up. It'd be 2.50 dollars, thank you," Y/N smiled. She was just pouring the coffee when she heard the bell on the front door ring, notifying her that a new customer had entered the café. She lifted her eyes from the coffee mug to greet the new customers, but her smile dropped the second her eyes locked with a familiar pair of green ones.

How dare he even walk in here? She thought. Dean Winchester, an asshole, liar, toxic jackass, a traitor even. To be honest, she hated him with all her heart and with all the rage she had left in her, but she didn't want to talk about it, or him, or think about it or anything... And behind him in walked Sam. About him Y/N had no ill thoughts about, but she still hated him too simply because he was related to the smallest man who ever lived, Dean. Someone could have described her as unfair, she just called herself a simple girl.

"Hey y...." Sam tried to greet her behind the counter but was quickly cut off by her.

"What would you like?" She gave them her best fake smile that also very clearly said fuck you to both of them. She handed the earlier customer his coffee, accidentally spilling some of the hot liquid into her hand. That made her hiss out of annoyance. That and the two men sitting in bar stools to be exact.

"I… Umm, I’ll take a sandwich, and he'll..." Sam stuttered, clearly taken back by her passive-aggressive character. He knew things between her and Dean had not ended well, but he hadn't thought they had ended so bad it was enough to make a grown woman act like a high school bully behind the counter.

"I'll take the sandwich too." Dean said, saving his brother from the trouble. "Soo... you still work here."

"Clearly." Y/N spat while solving the sandwiches into a paper bag. She had made the decision for them that they'd be eating on the go.

"Oh, actually, we're eating..." Sam tried to put in again, but again, he was interrupted.

"On the go. I'm sure y'all busy, I know he was last time." She gave them the same fake smile she had mastered and reached out to give them the paper bag. Dean grasped it in her hands and got up from his seat.

"It's okay, we are busy actually," He said and tapped Sam's shoulder. "Let's go."

Y/N watched as Sam got up and looked almost upset. For a second, Y/N nearly felt bad, like he had ever been nothing but sweet to her. But then she remembered that he was his brother, and that was enough reasons to hate him.

"And by the way, if you spat on it, just know I won't mind, darling." Dean smirked and then winked at her. Before turning his back, he watched, just a second, how her face turned red. He knew it wasn't a blush but a rage, and he thought a couple other customers might have clocked it too. He walked towards the door with his brother.

"Well, I'm surprised a kitchen knife hasn't flown into your back yet," Sam whispered and Dean laughed and shook his head as they get in the impala. Dean knew Y/N, and he knew that the only bullet she shoots were the bullets coming from her mouth. Well, to be fair, sometimes he had wished she would have just rather picked up a machine gun or something. Still, he thought she was adorable, even if angry. But Dean had promised himself before even stepping his foot over the boarder of this god forgotten town that he'd never drag her into his life again. Even tho they had quite a history, Dean had never told her about his real job because he didn't want to see him and real world ruin her too. No matter how cute, sweet, absolutely choleric, tempting, beautiful or enraged she was, he'd leave her be. 

She deserves better than to be dragged into this life, Dean thought. Besides, there was a case for them to battle.

"Soo.. 25-year-old woman, Sandra Rittenwell, last seen walking home from a night shift at a bar. Couple days later a body is found and well… See for yourself." Sam stretched out to show Dean the crime scene pictures he'd stolen.

"Well, that's a sight." Dean scrunched his nose in disgust. The pictures were cruel to say at least.

"Tell me about it. Surprisingly there were witnesses tho." Sam blurred out, "Victor Hills, called the police at 4am and claimed he saw a "faceless monster" take Sandra. Apparently he had been walking behind her. The police didn't take his claims seriously at first, but after the discovery of the body, they checked the nearby surveillance cameras and no "monster" had been caught in any of them. Police has no suspects as we speak, but they have had a sketch artist draw a portrait of the thing Victor saw."

"Hmm, interesting. Never seen this before;" Dean thought.

"Yup. Did some research and similar incident has happened before. In 1947 a woman disappeared, the body was never found, but locals said few had seen a similar creature in a couple of previous days, leading to the disappearance. One thing is sure, the monster has a type," Sam Said.

"Yeah, and what's that?" Dean knitted his eyebrows together.

"Women, walking home at night." Sam sigh.

"Of course," Dean shook his head for the second time that day.

// Hope you liked it, I love a feedback and hopefully I wasn't rusty. I haven't written other than school stuff in a long time. xx

Next part (x)

[beensbaee]

𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

summary; neteyam visits his favorite healer after a hard battle

word count; 2.2k

BLOODIED, BUT BEAUTIFUL.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Neteyam staggered into the healers tent, gritting his teeth together as an attempt to keep himself from hissing due to the pain that was coursing through his entire body 

Y/n was speaking to one of her fellow healers, oblivious to Neteyam standing behind her in dire need of her tender hands

He waited patiently, leaning against the entrance of the tent as he took slow breaths to keep himself from passing out as Y/n let out a laugh at whatever the woman she was speaking with said

Finally - she turned around. Her face content until she saw Neteyam - her cry of surprise had him wincing as she rushed over to him, grabbing his arms immediately and leading him to a cot he could lay down on

"Neteyam - you skxawng! Why didn't you try getting my attention earlier! Oh Eywa look at these wounds!" She said mortified, eyes quickly assessing Neteyam's injuries as he managed a smile

"Hello to you too, Y/n. I like your hair today." He said, barely having the strength to lower himself onto the cot in front of him as Y/n sighed

"Thank you." She said angrily, eyes stressed as she quickly reached for her disinfecting ointments with urgent need

He grunted as he laid down in front of her - the injuries over his body were burning and painful - but the familiar smell of the soothing medicines surrounding him and Y/n's scent allowed his body to relax as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes against the cushion laid for patients to rest their head against when being healed

"Teyam, what happened?" She said quietly, looking over his injuries one last time with a sad frown before dipping her hands into the ointment in front of her as her hands lathered it gently into his skin

He sighed, eyes opening as he watched her work with knitted brows. She was looking at him expectedly as she continued applying the green paste onto his skin

"Bad day for the war party." Was what he finally settled on as he let a wince of pain slip through - Y/n's hands quickly stopping at his rare show of suffering as she looked towards him with a knowing look

"Neteyam. I hate seeing you so hurt." She finally whispered, her voice pained as he finally met her gaze - his eyes crinkled with an ache she wished to sooth.

He stayed silent for a few moments, letting her words settle as he slowly moved his hand towards hers. Seeing he was trying to hold her hand, she quickly moved forward and clasped his hands herself so he wouldn't try to move anymore and risk aggravating his wounds any further

"I know. I am sorry." He said quietly as Y/n let out a huff

"How dare you apologize to me! Take it back! You are hurt, Neteyam. Don't you ever try to say sorry to me again when you are the one to deserve it so much more." She said, her tone truly hurt by his words as both of her hands cupped his gently. He ran his fingers over her knuckles as he let out a breathless laugh

"Ok, ok. Sorry -" He started, but was cut off with her letting out a hiss at his use of the word sorry once again

Finally, he let out a laugh that bubbled all the way from his tummy at her reaction as she let a small smile find its way onto her face

"Now, let your body relax. Think of something peaceful to help you. Deep breaths, Neteyam. Understand?" She asked as he nodded his head, closing his eyes as his mind trailed to a certain someone

It was not hard to have her be the sole thing on his mind as she worked diligently - her scent consuming his senses along with her occasional humming as she worked easily eased the tension from his muscles.

He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep - but her gentle hands cradled his face as she whispered his name

"Neteyam, come on yawne."

He didn't open his eyes when he first heard the words - believing he was just dreaming until he felt her soft fingers trace over his eyelids and nose

With lashes fluttering open, he was met with her concerned eyes as she helped him sit up

He let out a groan as he adjusted, but relaxed quickly as he felt the previous pain from his injuries almost gone. Looking down, his abdomen and arms were wrapped lovingly with her signature style - the cloth warm against his skin as he sighed.

"Thank you. I am sorry - was I sleeping for too long?" He asked sleepily, eyes taking in the now empty healers tent and dark sky that loomed outside

"Yes. I did not want to wake you. Did you sleep well?" She asked gently, helping him stand as he held onto her arm for support - eyes blinking away his tiredness as he slowly nodded his head

"I think that was the best sleep I have had in a very long time." He answered, his hands moving from her arms and around her as he enveloped Y/n in a hug, resting his head against hers as she smiled against his skin

"Well, thank Eywa I didn't let anyone wake you." She laughed quietly as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head

"Thank you." He said quieter now as Y/n's cheeks quickly tinted with surprise while she blinked, stunned and trying to process what he had just done

Seeing her surprise, he displayed a lazy smile as her ears perked up

"You're welcome. You know, I'd do anything for you." She said softly as he nodded his head

"And I'd do anything for you, Y/n. But you already knew this." He said as she finally rolled her eyes, her sweet smile peeking through as Neteyam grinned at the sight of it

"Tonight, I walk you home." She said, her voice gentle but firm as Neteyam shook his head

"But-" He started, but she gave him a look that had him quieting in a instant as she smiled

"Come on, now. You are in no condition to walk to even your own quarters, let alone mine. Let's go." She reasoned, her hand moving to his palm as she led him out of the tent and towards the familiar path of his families sleeping area

They walked through the resting na'vi silently, Neteyam's hand never leaving hers as the sounds of Pandora's distant night animals filled the silence

She stopped a few meters away from his families quarters, respecting the fact that they were sleeping inside and not wanting to intrude any further as she turned to Neteyam

He looked beautiful in the moonlight. His freckles glowed in the dim light, and she could see the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Now, you are going to go inside, and go back to sleep. No doing anything else, your injuries need rest." She instructed, his eyes never leaving hers as he listened - nodding his head along to whatever she said

"You see, the wounds you acquired from today were all over your body. To be able to make a full recovery - Neteyam! Are you even listening to a word that I am - " 

But she was cut off by him leaning towards her and pressing his soft lips against hers, his head tilting downwards as she was pressed flush against him - his palms holding her face so lovingly as any sound of surprised that left her lips was silenced by his mouth

Blinking away her shock, she leaned in to him as his arms came up and around her - holding her against him so lovingly that she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes and deepening the passionate kiss

Finally, she broke away from him - lips pink and cheeks alight as she blinked rapidly - her mouth was parted as she struggled to even form a single word. He laughed - a real laugh that had a slow smile creeping onto her face as she tried to look away from him and hide the growing blush she could feel creeping up her neck

But his hands grabbed her face and turned her towards him - his eyes so happy that she couldn't even make herself look away as he began speaking

"How are you going to leave after this? And you know I will not sleep soundly if I do not know you returned back to your bed safely." He whispered as she looked at him silently - eyes round with love as he smiled

"You said it yourself. I am in no condition to walk you to your quarters and back - and I cannot sleep without knowing you are safe - which is something I need to do, according to you, so my wounds heal." He added, a playful glint in his magnificent eyes

"Are you suggesting I stay with you tonight?" She questioned, and his grin broadened as he nodded

"It is nothing shameful. I am making sure my dearest friend is safe with me." He added, his fangs peaking through that same incomparable smile she was so infatuated with as she shook her head, trying to contain her giggles as he reached for her hand

"Come on. You can lay in my hammock, and I can sleep on the ground." He said, mumbling the last words quietly and hoping she wouldn't hear - but unfortunately, the gasp she let out as her eyes snapped towards his let him know she'd heard him perfectly fine

"You sleep on the ground? That better not have been what you said." She exclaimed, brows pulled together and concerned as he rolled his eyes and laughed whilst leading her into his families sleeping quarters

She entered hesitantly, Neteyam turning back to look at her with an encouraging nod of his head as she observed the peacefully sleeping Sully's. They moved quietly to ensure no one was awakened.

He moved to lay in his hammock - which was thankfully large enough for both of them to comfortably lay on as he moved over and outstretched his arm towards her

She laid down, tucking her hands under her face as she laid on her side to look at him. He whispered how pretty she looked and she smiled - swatting his hand away and telling him once again how important sleep was for him as he sighed contently - arms wrapping around her as Y/n rested her head against his chest gently

They'd never been this intimate before - but she loved how natural it felt as their friendship had always been one consisting of them being close to each other. 

She said she'd wake up before the sun was up to walk back to her tent, and Neteyam said he'd walk her there in the early hours of the nearing morning.

Normally she would've awakened in time - but she'd spent the night whispering and giggling with the boy who laid beside her. He was no better, laughing so much that the girl would have to press her palm against his mouth to quiet him. They must have fallen asleep hours later - enveloped in each other's warmth.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Jake stumbled as Lo'ak tugged him along, bouncing like a maniac with one of the widest smiles ever plastered on his face. Neytiri trailed behind the two, fuming at Lo'ak for waking them up - the boy had even been pulling on their hair to get them out of bed and insisting they had to come and see what he had to show them that second

"Lo'ak, boy this better be good or else you are in big tr-" Jake grumbled, but his own voice trailed off as Lo'ak stopped in front of his big brothers hammock 

"Look, guys." He snickers, poking Neteyam's cheek, who laid sleeping - a young girl tucked under his arm as the two slept soundly.

Jake's mouth only hung open as Neytiri stepped forward, carefully examining the two before letting out a pleased gasp once she recognized the girl

"What is Y/n doing here?" Neytiri asked, a smile on her face as she watched her son hold the girl close to him

Jake blinked, shaking his head before answering

"I came to the healer tent to get Neteyam - she shooed me away, said he was sleeping. She was gonna bring him to bed too, I guess she fell asleep here." He said, brows furrowed - confused but happy as he saw how peaceful Neteyam looked as he slept.

Lo'ak looked from his mother to his father, back in forth in disbelief as his mouth hung open

"Are you telling me he is not in trouble?!" He practically shreiked as Neytiri yelped, slapping the back of his neck and telling him to hush

But the two teens stirred, eyes peeking open as Y/n quickly sat up - her eyes adjusting to who stood in front of her before they widened - completely horrified

Neteyam lazily sat up beside her, a sleepy smile on his face as Y/n covered her mouth - shaking her head and muttering someone kill me as Neteyam looked towards his parents and brother

"Good morning." Were the words he'd said, stretching his arms as Y/n bowed her head and covered her face, mortified. Jake and Neytiri's laughter filled the air only moments later.

[yeonzzzn]

Ghostface jake when you ask him to kill someone for you? And he does with passion because he has a burning hatred for anyone who has done his precious girlfriend wrong.

no because ghostface!jake would so be down to destroy anyone you hate. man would not hesitate to stand from where he’s sitting and gather up his things at just the words, “I want you to kill __ for me.” that would literally be music to his ears because what you mean you want him to kill someone for you? it would be such a turn on for him. cock hard instantly at just you telling him those few words. jake would already kill for you as it is, but you asking him to do it? got him seeing stars.

and it would indeed be a murder of passion too. he would make it so perfect that it would belong in a museum. jake would also so take his time with it, making sure the cunt who did you wrong would suffer slowly. because why would he give them the satisfaction of having a quick death? nah.

jake would take his time slashing his knife into their skin, a wicked smile plastered on his face the entire time and laugh at each scream they would let out, “oh? you think you could just do my girl wrong and get away with it? get by with a few scratches? nah! don’t you know i’m fucking insane? i’ll make you fucking suffer,” and suffer he would make them. spilling their blood onto the concrete of the alleyway and splattering it all over his clothes and mask. jake would eventually remove the mask to get a crystal clear view of them slowly dying, staring into their eyes so he’s the last thing they see before going to hell, their blood painting his face with the final strike of his knife.

with satisfaction, jake would return home to you, presenting himself with the blood of your enemy coating him and pulling you to his chest and not hesitating for a second to slide his tongue into your mouth and roaming his hands all over your body, ready to fuck you right here right now on the floor. and so he does. pinning you to the cool tile floor with your legs slumped over his shoulders as he pistons into you, “no one will ever do you wrong, you hear me?” he’ll pant, “I’ll kill them all before they could hurt you.”

[msnameless]

I dont know if u write dubcon but can you PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE write a reader who’s self esteem is so low that she decides to break up with gojo only for gojo to aggressively ruin her insides + body worship hehe

I'm not sure if I captured the vibe but i tried lol.

feel free to send asks as alw

❍ ࣪⁎⁺Insecurity⁎⁺˳ .

Gojo Satoru x Reader

You try to break up with Gojo Satoru due to your insecurity but he's having none of that.

(1.5k words, oneshot)

"I can't do this anymore."

"Do what anymore, sweetheart?" Gojo cocked his head and grinned at you mischievously.

"Us, I don't...I just can't. I'm sorry," you stood up and began leaving much to Gojo's alarm.

"Woah woah, hold your horses, little missy," your wrist was tugged back by your boyfriend-turned-ex. Gojo was upon you in a flash.

"Where do you think you're running off to?"

A pair of electric blue eyes burned into yourself as Gojo peered at you intensely. His gaze scanned over you as if trying to uncover a conceivable reason why you'd want to end the relationship. You felt your hairs prick up and shoved him away, mortified.

The silence that hung between the both of you stretched into forever, though in reality, it lasted for merely 3 seconds. Gojo looked astounded, all traces of playfulness now gone.

"What do you mean?" he asked concerned.

"Look, if this is about your leftovers that I-"

"Gojo, please just leave me alone," you begged earnestly, hoping your voice wouldn't break and lead to a meltdown.

You wanted to leave before it could happen, stumbling out the door, heading straight home.

The truth was you had always noticed the sheer gap between you and Gojo in all aspects possible, whether it be in terms of physical attractiveness or power. Everyone knew Gojo Satoru, the most powerful Jujutsu sorcerer in the world, the only one to have been born with the Six-Eyes and limitless technique in the last 400 years. He drew eyes whenever he walked into a room, that confident stride promising an easygoingness that came from knowing you would always be far above everyone else.

You knew what people must've thought when they saw you as his girlfriend. You were a mere wallflower, not even deserving of a second glance. You hated it whenever people stared at you for a second longer than you thought necessary, imagined their withering judgement as they took you in with disdain. You felt your clothes tighten, and every flaw on your body became more noticeable than ever.

You compared yourself with just about anyone. Gojo was surrounded by plenty of attractive people such as Shoko Ieiri, and you felt like an ugly duckling amongst them. But you had to hide it. After all, you were Gojo Satoru's girlfriend.

Thus, you began trying to change yourself in a desperate hope that you'd be happier with yourself, going on diets, and working out rigorously.

Nothing ever lasted. You would always go back to your normal self. Disgusting self, was what you thought. The mirror was a dreadful reminder of what you were when you glanced into it every day, and soon that got covered up, too, like your body. All the while, you acted your usual on the outside, keeping up the mask that served to hide your self-loathing.

Things escalated when you feared physical contact with Gojo, thinking that whenever he hugged you from behind, all your rolls of fat could be felt. The insecurity became so crippling that you were utterly miserable until you finally decided to end your relationship with him.

For the next 2 days, you kept to yourself at home, ignoring the incessant texts from Gojo before you blocked him. You thought things were finally over until your door got broken down, blasted open on its hinges by Gojo.

"Oops, didn't mean to be so rough," he shrugged as he strode in.

"Now then. Enough is enough."

The next second, you were lifted up and set in front of Gojo.

"What's your problem, lady? You thought you could just break up with me without a reasonable explanation?" he scoffed.

"Tell me why or I'm not leaving," he demanded.

You tried to speak, but a lump in your throat left you mute. How would you begin to explain the inferiority you felt compared to him? Gojo waited for you patiently, but your voice had vanished.

"If this is about thinking you're not good enough, you'd better stop now," Gojo warned.

He snickered at your questioning look.

"I'm more observant than people give me credit for. Did you think I wouldn't see the way you shy away from my hugs?" he pouted before sighing dramatically.

"This is an emergency, I can't have my sweetheart hating herself, now can I?" he mumbled, hand holding his chin in thought.

"Got it! I guess I'll just have to drill it into you then," he smirked, eyes darkening as he pressed feather kisses from your forehead to your eyes, cheeks, lips, neck, making his way down slowly. Compared to his kisses, his rough hands caressed your body urgently, kneading and stroking all the places where you used to allow him to do so before growing insecure.

"I love you here, here, here..." he whispered sensually, starting to life your shirt over your head but you stopped him, afraid of being bared.

"Don't-"

Gojo silenced you with a kiss, biting harshly on your lips.

"Uh-uh, let me work my magic and make you feel real good, kay?" Gojo grinned maniacally.

You didn't dare to speak under his feral gaze and he took it as a sign to continue.

The air hummed with electricity. You felt your body flush as the room turned stuffy, becoming indescribably hot. Gojo's touches burned your skin and you could feel a raw desire pooling in your stomach as his fingers danced all over the curves and dips of your body.

You were helpless under Gojo's ministrations and soon laid under him in all your glory.

It had been too long for Gojo since he was allowed to admire you. After all, you had distanced yourself from him and it was now time to make up for what he missed out on. Gojo paused his teasing and looked down at you before opening his mouth.

"Buckle up, sweetheart."

All you remembered of the next few hours was pure bliss as well as you and Gojo chanting each other's names like a mantra. He slammed into you over and over again, never faltering, all while whispering sweet nothings into your hair. Your body was stretched to its limits and the sensations made you see stars in your vision. It was too much yet never enough at the same time.

His long and slender fingers constantly prodded in and out of you, swiping and circling where he knew it felt irresistible. Impossibly quick, tantalizingly slow; over and over again in a vicious cycle, to the point where it had you begging for his sadistic torture to end, granting you release. Gojo knew your body better than yourself, and could rely on his deft fingers alone to strip you of your defenses.

Gojo worked himself to the bone, playing you like an instrument expertly as you tried but failed to stifle noises that would make a sailor blush.

You almost came multiple times, just for Gojo to stop after driving you to the edge and pulling you back again. He frowned at you in mock disappointment.

"I don't like it when you cover yourself," he taunted derisively. From then on, Gojo made sure your mouth was free to make any noise he wanted you to, unless of course he chose to fill it up himself personally.

The taste of salt and passion permeated your senses, prompting you to understand exactly what it meant to be claimed by Gojo.

Ruffling your hair, Gojo kept praising you, coaxing climaxes out from your body time after time. It was almost too much and you trembled from the insistent stimulation.

"Just like that, one more time? You're doing so well," he cooed. Even if you couldn't, you had to. Gojo never halted his actions to let you catch your breath. In and out, in and out, Gojo moved at a speed that was more beast than man. You howled his name, unsure if you were pleading for him to cease and desist or continue.

As the moon shone and sparkled in its obsidian tapestry that was the peaceful night, you and Gojo danced the devil's tango, with Gojo leading. Bodies colliding, breaths mixing, hands entangling, your eyes never dared to leave Gojo's as he demonstrated personally his affections towards you.

He had you enchanted with the way he looked, groaning at the sight of you and kissing anywhere he could on your body. Saliva and sweat pooled together, glimmering on your skins.

Gojo's eyes sparkled brighter than the stars as he stared down at your body ardently, raking over everything. Bodies still connected, he clasped your hand and linked your fingers together, bringing them to his mouth. His eyes never leaving yours, Gojo kissed every single one of your knuckles.

"You're so pretty, y'know that?" he sighed.

"I never want to stop loving your body."

The next morning, your body was littered with black and purple marks, a reminder of what went down the night before. You stumbled getting out from bed and was caught in Gojo's embrace. He chuckled amusedly, hair tousled from slumber.

"Woah there, looks like someone had too much fun last night. Your legs still working or nah?" he teased.

You shrieked and whacked him in response.

"Seriously, I love you just the way you are. You're gorgeous in my eyes and that's all that matters," Gojo mumbled, head lying above yours.

Gojo's voice then took on a more lethal edge.

"Or do we have to start this ritual of worshipping you every night?"

[jemiswumbo]

you be tails, i’ll be sonic (18+)

twitch streamer!luke x reader

part one

authors note: hi hi i’m back with a highly requested part two!! i loved making the graphics for this chapter lol. hope you all enjoy!!!

title is from you be tails, i’ll be sonic by a day to remember. lyrics have no relation to the fanfic, but it IS an absolute banger. anthem. bop. classic.

tags/warnings: smau elements. nsfw elements - MDNI. not proofread. use of y/n.

Over on the desk, Luke’s phone would not stop vibrating.

For the last hour, you’d managed to ignore it, as you were too preoccupied by Luke fucking you with no remorse. Now, as you lay spent and naked and cuddled together until the blankets, the sound was driving you insane.

“Luke,” you whined, burying your face into the crook of his neck (which was now littered with red and purple hickies). “Please shut your phone off.”

Luke chuckled beside you, running a hand through your messy hair. “I will in a minute, I’ll probably have to tweet an explanation for why I shut off my stream so suddenly.”

“Okay. That’s fair,” You decided. Luke leaned over and stretched out his arm, grasping the phone from his desk. He snuggled back in beside you and you watched as he scrolled through a flood of notifications.

The first app he opened was discord, where his gamer friends were chatting in their private server about Luke’s random disconnection.

“Thank god one of my friends was able to figure it out.” Luke murmured, causing you to giggling. Annabeth was, by far, the smartest of the group. Most days it seemed like she was the only one with a working brain cell. You and her got along great, as you worked to keep the boys and thalia in check. They loved to cause a scene or do some dumb shit no matter where they went. It was tons of fun and always entertaining, but also nerve wracking. If they ever caused too big of a scene, someone could takes pictures or videos, upload them… as some of the most popular twitch streamers, everyone would be recognized instantly.

Except for you.

You (by choice) remained out of the spotlight. You loved Luke dearly and desperately wanted to make your relationship public, but the thought of having hundreds of thousands of eyes watching you, loving you, hating you…. it was scary. And you weren’t delusional — you knew, one day, you’d have to step into the public eye. You just didn’t know when you’d be ready.

Luke wrapped up the Discord conversation with his friends and switched over to Twitter, where tons of his fans were talking about his disconnection. You took a deep breath to clear your head, and read some of the tweets on his phone screen.

“Your fans are so goofy,” You said, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek. “So… what’s the move? Wifi crashed? Rage quit? Oh my god, what if you confirm Boner Theory?!”

“Jesus, never in my life,” Luke groaned. “I’ll just say it was my wifi. Unless….”

Your eyes widened. You sat up, not caring that the bed sheet fell to your lap, exposing your naked chest. Your heartbeat was definitely exceeding a normal BPM reading. “Baby.. I love you. So much. And I would love to be public. I would love to be your date to the Streamer Awards, and support you at Twitch Con, and cheer you on during your Fortnite tournaments…. But I just don’t think I’m ready.”

“Hey, hey,” Luke sat up, too, enveloping you in his strong, muscled arms and squeezing you tight. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask. But you know I respect your choices and would never pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I know,” You sighed, relishing in the warm embrace, and the feeling of your bare chest pressed against his. You swore he could feel how fast your heart was racing. “But also, you can’t say we’re dating now. Boner Theory is a thing, babe. Surely, at least one of your fans would connect the dots.”

Luke laughed and pulled away from the hug, taking a moment to press and long and loving kiss to your head. He smiled at you, his brown eyes sparkling. “You’re so perfect, you know that?”

You shoved him away. “Okay. Tweet something, so we can go watch a movie and smoke and have more sex.”

“Okay, okay,” Luke said, kissing you again and sending some half assed tweet out to his fans. He shut off his phone and grinned. “Let’s order take out, too.”

*************************************

A few weeks later…

*************************************

It was, officially, your one year anniversary of dating Luke Castellan.

You were beyond happy, and over the moon excited for the special dinner you had both planned for the evening. Luke had surprised you with reservations to your all time favourite restaurant. You were going to surprise him afterwards with a brand new lingerie set. It was going to be perfect.

The only, only thing that was making you nervous was the fact that you’d decided today was the day.

You were going to tell Luke, tonight at dinner, that you were ready to go public.

After the whole Boner Theory ordeal, you’d spent countless nights and hours debating your previous decision to keep your relationship private. You knew it was going to have to happen eventually. You also didn’t mind his fan girls; but deep down you got giddy over the thought of showing them all he was taken and he was yours. It would feel so good. And you wouldn’t have to stay out of photos when you hung out with Luke, Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia. You could go to events with him. You could come up behind him while he was streaming to drop off a coffee or food or kiss his cheek without worrying about it.

There were cons, of course. Most of the debating revolved around the cons, and whether or not it was truly worth it. After all these weeks, you decided it was worth it. You were one hundred percent ready.

You spent the few hours before dinner having an everything shower, doing your best makeup, curling your hair, and choosing an outfit. It helped keep your mind occupied and the stress at bay.

Around 7pm, Luke texted saying he was outside of your apartment. You grabbed your purse and slid on a pair of black heels before racing out the door.

Luke’s car was not hard to miss. He had chosen to pick you up in his bright red McLaren, since it was a super special occasion. He typically never took it out of his garage as it was insanely expensive and just downright beautiful.

You gave him a little twirl on your walk over to the passenger seat, not missing the impressed grin he flashed at your from inside. You hopped in the car and didn’t hesitate to lean over and place a kiss to his lips. He presented you a huge bouquet of fresh, dark red roses. You gasped and clutched the bouquet in your arms, kissing his cheek and expressing your gratitude.

“You look stunning,” Luke said, eyeing you up, clearly in awe. You laughed and blushed, enjoying the praise. “Seriously. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” You retorted, besrt racing at the sight of his gorgeous features. He was dressed up, wearing a sharp grey suit with a dark with a black button up beneath. He was so good looking, you simply swooned just from his smile alone. The smell of the roses made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

The drive to the restaurant was quick. The waiter showed you to your table, which was secluded in the back corner and shrouded by a wall and some pretty plants. The lights were dimmed and candles were lit. Luke ordered an expensive bottle of wine, which you both shared and sipped on while waiting for the food to arrive. It was now or never.

“Okay, baby,” You started, dabbing your napkin to your lips. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. But I think I’m ready to go public with our relationship.”

Across the table, Luke’s eyes widened and he spluttered, mid sip. He coughed into the back of his hand and you bit your lip nervously, waiting for his response.

“Are you sure, angel?” Luke asked, reaching out to take your hand in his. He rubbed his thumb against your skin in comfort. “Once we go public we can never go back. My fans will know who you are.”

“I know,” You said, firmly. You offered him a warm smile. “Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. And I’m ready. Definitely, totally ready.”

“Well in that case, I’ve had an Instagram post drafted for like, the last three months. I can finally post it!” Luke said, picking his phone up from the corner of the table.

You smacked his arm in playful angry, failing to suppress the smile making it way to your cheeks. “You are so dumb. They better be cute pictures, at least.”

“They are, I swear!” Luke laughed. “Cute caption, too. You promise you’re okay with me posting it?”

“Yes, Luke. I promise.” You took his hand again, letting out a shaky breath and trying to muster some courage. “I know it’s only been a year of dating, but I can whole heartedly say you are my best friend in the whole world. I love you. I truly do see us being together forever. So I want to make it public now, on our terms.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Luke said with an attractive grin. You blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear shyly, whilst he set up his Instagram post. After a few silent moments, he flashed you a triumphant thumbs up. “There, it’s posted. I tagged you, too.”

You ignored the buzzing of your own phone, choosing to flip it to silent mode. “Happy Anniversary, my love.”

Luke smiled at you, once again taking your hand in his. With utmost sincerity and his heart of gold, he replied, “Happy Anniversary to you too, angel.”

a/n: thank you all for reading, hope you enjoy!! again this is not proofread. part 3 with the streamer awards??? 👀👀

taglist: @augustiscoquette

[lanadelnegan]

The Feeling Was Mutual

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Female Reader

Summary: You and your former friend and co-star, JDM, pick up where you left off years ago when he joins you on set of TWD. Starting with a dinner date and ending with a quickie in the elevator. Warnings: Unprotected public sex, heavy touching and kissing, angst, sexual tension, *Jeffrey is single

Requested by anon <3

Your heart thumped in your ears when the RV doors opened and the gorgeous man you hadn't seen in 10 years stepped out. You tried to stay in character, purposely replacing your googly heart eyes with fearful ones. You studied his every move, noting the new silver streaks in his hair and beard. His voice was deeper than you remembered and his waist skinnier, but it was a nice look on him.

For the past decade, you've avoided him, focusing on your acting career and pushing your growing feelings for him aside. Things were different now. You were both more mature and further along in your careers. And single. From what you last heard. Not that you were checking up on him.

"Eeny. Meeny. Miny. Moe."

When the end of the barbed-wire bat came dangerously close to the tip of your nose, your eyes finally locked with his. His smug gaze softened and for a moment, you thought he was about to break character. A grin threatened to tug at the corner of your mouth, but you mentally pushed it aside, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. His smirk grew wider before he walked away from you, continuing his impressive opening speech.

"Cut. Amazing! Let's take a break." Your fellow actors stood to their feet, wiping the dirt off their knees and laughing amongst each other. You did the same, glancing at Jeffrey across the set before grabbing a drink of water. He was busy getting to know the others as they welcomed him to his first day on set.

Your back was turned away from him as you took a sip of your water. You hated yourself for being this shy in front of him, purposely stalling on greeting him with the rest of the cast. There was a time he was one of your closest friends but now you only saw him on social media, occasionally dropping a comment on one of his new posts and him returning the gesture.

"Not gonna go say hi to the new guy?" Norman teased.

"Eventually. You?"

"Met him earlier. Seems like a nice dude."

"Yeah, he's -"

"Walking over here." Norman said quietly, giving you a subtle heads up. Your eyes widened as he tilted his chin up at Jeffrey. "Man, that was awesome. Making us all look bad." Norman joked, earning a chuckle from the tall man next to you.

Jeffrey's hazel eyes quickly skimmed over you before settling on your own. "Hey stranger."

You rolled your eyes, playing off your ridiculous grin as he brought you in for a hug. You were always attracted to him, but this new him did something to you. He looked taller somehow. More confident.

"You know each other?" Norman asked.

Jeffrey rambled off to Norman about the movies you made together while you half listened, too busy soaking in his handsome features and the way the corner of his mouth tilted slightly when he spoke.

"And then, one day, she just.. ghosted me." He said jokingly, bringing his hand to his chest like it pained him.

You felt heat quickly rise to your cheeks. "I dunno if that's what happened." You said casually, hoping he'd drop it. Of course you weren't that lucky.

"You stopped returning my calls and texts. I'd say that's.. exactly what happened." Jeffrey tilted his head at you, resting his hands loosely on his hips.

"Well, you guys enjoy your reunion." Norman interrupted, patting Jeffrey's shoulder before walking away.

"What the hell was that?"

"Wasn't a lie." He shrugged, sipping his can of coca-cola.

"So that's how it's gonna be? You haven't seen me in a decade and you want to start it like this?"

He made a satisfied sigh, swallowing his drink. "This is awkward because of you, darlin'. Not me."

You scoffed. With his new found confidence, he was also apparently an asshole. You turned to walk away but he was on your heels.

"Y/n, wait."

You ignored the loud sigh he made.

"Y/n. Stop, can we just talk?"

You turned to face him, opening your mouth to say something, but quickly realized how close your face was to his. Your mind wandered back to one of the first scenes you shot with him - a kissing scene that involved lots of heavy touching. As if reading your mind, his eyes dropped to your lips then quickly back to your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said genuinely. "Let's start over. You look.. really great."

"So do you. I.. I missed you." You stepped back a couple inches, allowing some space between you so others wouldn't stare.

"How about we get dinner tonight and catch up?"

You thought for a moment then nodded slightly. "Okay, yeah. That sounds nice."

Later that night...

You decided to keep it casual and eat at the restaurant at the hotel you were both staying at. This was just a friendly outing after all. You had to remind yourself of that a few times while getting ready, keeping your makeup light and your outfit nice but definitely not overdressed.

Your phone buzzed just as you were stepping off the elevator. Digging it out of your purse, you smiled at the name on the screen. You were surprised his number was still saved. And that he clearly still had yours.

JD: Got us a table outside in the back.

The nickname for him in your phone stuck after the filming of a show you did together. JD Richter. You smiled to yourself as you walked, remembering a particular scene you shot together that consisted of a king-sized bed and his body hovering over yours. His lips exploring your neck and collarbone. It was your favorite scene you ever shot with him, for obvious reasons. Partly because of the kissing, but mostly because of the way he whispered your name in your ear while on top of you. You real name, not your character name - so quietly that only the two of you could hear it. Shortly after that scene, your friendship grew apart and it was all your fault. He was right, you had ghosted him - stupidly. But tonight you'd make up for it.

You made your way through the restaurant, finding the door to the back patio. The sun was starting to disappear, but the patio was outlined in greenery and warm sting lights.

He stood when he saw you, pulling out a chair beside him. "You don't have to pull my chair out. This isn't a date." You half teased as you both settled into your seats.

"So there's no chance I'm getting lucky tonight? Shit. I wore my fancy underwear and everything."

Your laughs echoed across the patio, slowly fading when the waiter finally approached. After ordering a bottle of wine and a couple of appetizers to share, you took turns catching each other up on the past decade of your lives. He had been in two semi-serious relationships, one of which was fairly recent.

"The last one, I thought for awhile she might have been the one, but then it just didn't feel right."

"What happened?" You asked curiously, sipping your wine.

He hesitated for a moment. "When I got the call about the Negan gig... I broke up with her shortly after that."

"Choosing your career over your love life?" You chuckled like the idea was ridiculous.

"Sound familiar?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

Ouch. He was right.

"I deserve that." You nodded, popping a pretzel bite in your mouth. "But.. why after you got the Negan call?"

"I - uh.." He hesitated again. "Knew I was about to see you again."

You blushed, feeling his knee brush against yours underneath the table.

"Look y/n, I know you don't wanna talk about it. But I need to know. Why'd you stop answering my calls?"

You knew that question was coming.

The truth is, you needed to focus on your career. You were barely a known actress at the time, and Jeffrey had already made a name for himself. When you started developing feelings for him, you knew you had to distance yourself. You wanted to be known for your work, not your love life.

"Fine. I.. I had feelings for you. That I didn't want to have." You admitted, ignoring his gaze and taking a bite of chocolate cake you were sharing for dessert.

"You should have told me." He said, casually wiping a dab of icing from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blushed when he brought it to his own mouth and sucked it off with a quick pop.

"I didn't know if you felt the same way."

"So you preferred never speaking to me again?"

Guilt punched you in the stomach and you felt like the worst person in the world. "No. I made a mistake. And when I realized it, I figured it was too late. You already had a girlfriend." You couldn't believe you were finally saying all of this out loud.

He nodded, deep in thought. "Okay."

"Okay? ...That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, y/n?” He asked, avoiding eye contact and signing the tab.

That you had feelings for me too. That the feeling was mutual. That I made a mistake and we should have been together.

“It’s getting late, we should probably head back.” You said instead.

The walk back to your rooms was silent with the exception of him asking what floor you were on. You stared at him as he leaned back against the elevator wall, sliding his hands in his jean pockets. He stared back at you and you wondered what he was thinking, but stubbornly, you weren't going to be the one to speak first. When the elevator doors opened, he motioned for you to lead the way, so you did until you came to a stop at your door.

"Well, thanks for dinner. It was nice." You finally spoke, annoyed that you lost at your little silent game.

He nodded. “Yeah. Any time.”

You opened your mouth again to speak but he was already walking away. “JD.” He stopped, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Come inside. Stay with me. Let's do what we should have done a long time ago.

"...goodnight." You said instead.

"Night, y/n." He disappeared down the hall and you drifted into your room, disappointed and frustrated with yourself.

You kicked off your clothes, replacing them with your favorite silky night gown before falling into bed defeatedly. You closed your eyes, still feeling a buzz from the half bottle of wine you finished.

Imagining Jeffrey on top of you and whispering in your ear, your hand slipped between your legs. You easily rubbed your clit, considering your panties were on the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You were growing hotter by the second until your phone chimed from the nightstand. You sighed, picking it up and squinting at the bright screen.

JD: The feeling was mutual.

Your heart flipped at his confession and you jumped out of bed. You didn't bother slipping on shoes as you flung open your door. You took one step around the corner and immediately slammed into his tall figure.

"Oh.. hey.. I was just.." You rambled nervously, suddenly losing your courage.

"Me too." He said, slamming his mouth to yours and pressing you against the carpeted hallway wall.

He tasted like wine and chocolate cake, mixed with a hint of tobacco. The flavor alone enough to make your knees weak. He devoured your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours until you were breathless. Pulling away slightly, his mouth dipped to your neck, tracing his lips against your sensitive flesh. Your hand reached for his hair while the other wrapped around his wrist and guided it towards your soaked center.

He stopped suddenly, pulling away and looking at you. "Fuck, we can't do this." He ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"Oh.." You said, cheeks flushed. "Right.."

"Here. Someone could see us." He clarified. You exhaled a breath of relief as he guided you quickly to your room, placing his hand on your lower back.

"Oh no.." You panicked slightly, realizing your room key was on the other side of your door.

"Fuck. Come on." He led you to the elevator and luckily you didn't have to wait long before the doors opened and you stumbled inside the small space. His lips were on yours again as he clumsily pressed the button to his floor.

"I don't think I can wait another second to be inside of you." He said against your mouth, running his hand up your thigh and feeling your bare pussy. His finger slid through your wetness. "Fuck baby.."

"Then don't." You fumbled with the belt on his jeans. Pressing his forehead to yours, he helped you quickly unbuckle him.

You almost moaned at the sight of his cock when he pulled it free from his pants. He was rock hard and already leaking precum. Before you could admire it any longer, he lifted one of your legs around his hip and held it there, guiding his length to your slick hole. You were so wet and ready for him, you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle all over the elevator floor.

He rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating his cock in your juices before stopping at your entrance.

"If you want to take this slow, we can."

You shook your head no, eager for him to be buried deep in your cunt already.

"You sure? I could take you back to your room.." He whispered in your ear. "And eat this pretty pussy before I fuck it."

"JD.." You almost yelled. "Please just -"

He pushed forward suddenly, entering you hard with one full thrust and stretching your walls perfectly. Your mouth fell open as he pressed fully against you, his cock buried so deep in your cunt it was almost painful. He let out a hoarse groan before sloppily kissing you again.

"Fuck, doll. You feel fuckin' good."

His hips began moving slowly, allowing you to focus on every inch of him. The elevator door opened for a few moments but he didn't stop. Luckily no one was on the other side and it finally closed.

His movements quickened and the moans from both of you filled the small space. You didn't care that someone was probably watching from the other end of the camera in the corner. Or that you could be caught at any moment and end up trending on the internet. You were too focused on each other. At how amazing he felt inside of you, like his cock was made for you.

"Oh god, fuck. I'm-" You couldn't finish your sentence before your pussy clenched around him and your legs shook beneath you. He watched you, his eyelids heavy as he felt his own release coming.

Suddenly the floor felt like it was falling from under you when the elevator started to descend.

"JD.." You said panicked, trying to push him away. But his grip tightened around your thigh and he continued thrusting, faster.

"JD..!"

Jeffrey stilled, letting out a couple of sharp grunts before spilling his load inside of you. "Fuck.. fuck." He pulled out of you quickly, stepping to the other side of the elevator and zipping himself up in his jeans. He held his wrists over his unclasped belt buckle as the doors began to open.

One would never be able to tell you just fucked.

Besides your flushed cheeks.

And his messy hair.

And the handprint on your thigh.

And the heavy breathing.

And-

The doors slowly departed, revealing Norman standing on the other side.

Oh fuck.

He squinted, eyeing you both suspiciously as he grinned, long enough for the doors to begin to close.

"I'll catch the next one." He said before they shut completely.

You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my god.. you think he knew?"

Jeffrey took a step towards you, placing his hand on your lower back and pulling you towards him. "Probably. Especially if he noticed my cum running down your legs."

[happy74827]

Forced to Listen

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Dean hated it when you hunted him down for advice, and he also hated that you knew exactly how to bait him into listening.

WC: 1082

Category: Fluff, Ranter!Reader, Mentions of Cheating, Sam being absolutely useless (iconic).

Can you believe that it’s been TWO WHOLE YEARS since I last wrote of him?? I’m so angry at myself 😭😭

『••✎••』

Dean could sense what was coming when he watched you stomp towards him with nothing but a small bottle of beer. The look on your face was one he had come to recognize over the years.

It was the one that said that you were about to coerce him into listening to your woes, and he had no other choice but to do it. The heat outside was unbearable, the kind that made Dean strip off his flannel and ditch the leather jacket, leaving him in his sweat-covered shirt.

But as he stood under the hood of the Impala, trying to get her to start, that bottle of beer was calling his name. The promise of the cool, carbonated drink sliding down his throat, relieving him from the dryness that had settled in his mouth, was something he desperately craved. And you knew that. That's why you were headed straight for him.

"Hey, Dean," you said innocently, the small bottle of beer dangling from your hand.

Dean sighed, his gloved hands pausing as he glanced up at you. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to you whine about what was going on in your life, but that bottle of beer was too tempting to pass up. It was his favorite brand, too.

Goddamn it, you really were a temptress.

"Two minutes,” he grunted out, holding his hand out for the beer. "I'll give you two minutes."

You grinned, placing the bottle of beer in his open hand. In a matter of seconds, half the liquid was gone, and you were waiting impatiently for him to give you the sign to begin.

After another second, a sigh of content slipped from his mouth, and he nodded, signaling you to start.

You didn’t waste any time. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

"I think you're a pain in my ass," Dean retorted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It didn’t make much difference since his hand was already covered in dirt and grease, but it made him feel a little better. "Don’t tell me you came over here just to ask me that?"

"No, I'm serious, Dean," you insisted. "Do you actually think I'm a bitch?"

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

So, he just raised his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on while he took another sip of his beer.

"Dating's hard, Dean," you started, and he already felt a groan coming on. He did not want to have this conversation. "I just don't get it. Why am I not good enough for them? Why do I keep getting cheated on?"

You were pacing around the car as you spoke, and Dean kept his eyes on the beer. As you went on about everything that was bothering you, the more he regretted his decision to drink that damn thing.

"Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? What is it, Dean?" You looked at him, hoping for an answer. But when you realized he wasn't paying that much attention to what you were saying, you let out a scoff. "Great, so I'm not even good enough for you to listen to me? God, Dean, you are such a douche."

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked up at you, the annoyance clearly visible. "Can I get back to fixing up my baby, now?"

"Would you date me?" You asked, suddenly, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Am I worth dating?"

God, you were killing him. He’d rather get heatstroke than continue this conversation, and he was sure Sammy would agree on his behalf.

He could actually see his baby brother from where he stood. He was a few yards away, sitting in the shade. A book in his hand, but his eyes were on the two of you.

Was he…? Oh hell no.

He was laughing.

Sammy was having a good time watching him squirm under your gaze, doing absolutely nothing despite avoiding the work Bobby needed help with.

Oh, was Dean pissed off. He’d get his payback soon, hopefully. It would be whenever he actually gets away from you and fixes up his car. Baby always comes first.

"I mean, c'mon, Dean," you pressed on. "Just give me some advice. You were with so many women, and they were all beautiful and perfect, so what's wrong with me?"

You were pouting, and Dean felt like throwing his beer bottle on the ground and stomping on it. This was the worst two minutes of his life.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally said, looking you in the eye. "You could be a pain in the ass, but unfortunately, I’m apparently the only one who has to deal with it, so... yeah. You're fine."

"Fine? I'm fine?"

"Yup," Dean replied. He turned back to the Impala, taking the last swig of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into your hands. "Thanks for the beer. Is that all?”

"I just feel… I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough, ya know?" You said a sad look on your face. "Like there's something wrong with me. Something that's making everyone leave me."

"Listen," Dean started. He looked at you again, but all of his annoyance was gone. The two minutes were definitely up; he could quite literally kick you out of sight, but with the look you had on your face, he just couldn’t do it.

So, despite Sam’s utter lack of help, he was going to do his best to try to make you feel better.

"It's not you, alright?" He assured. "There's nothing wrong with you. If a guy can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you, okay? Trust me, you will have no problem finding someone else."

The corners of your lips twitched, turning into a small smile. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, giving you a smirk. "If you want, I could always give out the ole hunter's special with your past one. Bobby could use a new rug for his living room."

A loud snort slipped past your mouth, and Dean was satisfied.

"Okay, Winchester," you said. "This is my sign to get the hell out of here."

And so you did, but before you could get even slightly close to the house, he called out to you.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, a small smile forming on his face. If you thought it was going to be wholesome, then you were sorely mistaken.

"Next time you come to me to talk about your feelings, at least have a damn pie."

[syoish-aot]

Okay okay I'll post more reader/eren reverse isekai

reader/eren

post canon, reverse isekai, memory loss

currently rated T

word count: 1225

<- PART 1 | PART 3 ->

*********

“Who the hell are you?”

You’re pinned to the bed below Eren. One of his hands is firmly against your wrist to keep you from moving (although it’s obvious to him that you don’t have the strength to fight against his hold, even if you tried). 

He stares down at you, his heart hammering against his chest in a mix of anxiety and confusion.

How the hell do you know who he was, but he has no memory of you? Or this bed? Or this room? Or anything besides Mikasa’s blade against his throat and the tears lining her eyes. 

You’re trembling below him, clearly terrified, indicating that you’re equally clearly not a threat. 

Eren’s not sure what’s going on here, but he doesn’t want to do anything too rash and complicate things further. 

So he lets you go.

“Sorry.” He mumbles as he pulls away from you and sits on the edge of the bed.

Immediately you sit up and turn towards him. “Are you okay?” You ask, staring with eyes wide and clear concern splashed across your face.

For some reason, it causes Eren’s stomach to twist uncomfortably, even though he has no idea who you are. He says nothing.

“Did you have another nightmare?” You ask softly.

The way you say it indicates that this may be a common occurrence. So he lies: “Yes.” He answers. “Sorry. Guess it freaked me out a bit.”

You give him a comforting smile and, again, it causes his stomach to twist.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say softly. “You’re awake now, right? So everything’s okay.” You lean forward to kiss his cheek before pulling yourself out of bed. “Armin said we needed to be at the banquet hall at one.”

“Armin?” Eren quickly asks.

You can’t help but laugh at the way Eren is looking at you. His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised, lips parted just slightly as he sucks in a breath. “Yeah, Armin.” You confirm. “And everyone else.”

“Who else?”

You sigh. “Eren, you really need to get better at remembering the plans we make.”

“Who’s going to be there?” Eren repeats, ignoring your comment.

You laugh as you stand so you can cross the room to finish putting on your makeup in front of the large mirror next to your dresser.

“Besides you, me, and Armin, Connie obviously. I’m still surprised he managed to plan the whole thing.” You joke as you start on your eyeliner. “Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Marco for sure because they’re reliable when it comes to making plans. Historia texted me yesterday and said Ymir didn’t want to come because apparently she and Reiner still aren’t over that fight they had last week. Oh my god speaking of that fight, did you know that they put it on pause to go get beers together at Maria’s? Literally just went ‘I hate you but we have to watch this game together so we’ll be friends for a night and then go back to our bullshit’. Honestly, I commend them for being able to do that.” You laugh. “Anyway, if Historia is set on coming, Ymir will still show up and we can see that drama unfold in real-time. Speaking of drama, Jean’s going to be there and you better behave. And I feel like I shouldn’t have to say it but obviously Sasha and Mikasa are-”

“Mikasa’s going to be there?” There’s something to the way he says it. This strange… hope in his tone. It leaves you confused.

“Yes?” You answer. Or maybe you’re asking, you aren’t too sure. “It’s her party, Eren.” He’s still staring at you but you shrug and turn back to the mirror. “Now get your perfectly sculpted ass out of bed so you can get ready or we’ll be late.”

Without saying another word, Eren stands up and leaves the bedroom.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he hesitated at the door, glancing around the apartment because he wasn’t sure of the layout.

But you and Eren had been living there together for over a year.

So it wouldn’t make sense for him to be confused.

It wouldn’t make sense at all…

***

“Eren’s acting weird today.” You tell Jean, an hour later and shortly after arriving at the banquet hall. You’re watching Eren from across the room. He’s with Armin, talking about something you can’t make out with an extremely serious look on his face.

“He’s always weird.” Jean dismisses as he stuffs a mini quiche into his mouth.

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

When you don’t reply to the obvious ribbing from your friend (something that would normally get you caught up in at least five minutes of back-and-forth banter), he looks over at you. Jean clears his throat (and swallows the second half of his quiche). “What happened?” He asks.

“I think he had another nightmare that really fucked him up he-” you sigh, “he totally forgot about the party today and the whole drive here he was just staring out the window, not saying a single thing. He’s been raving about this wedding for months and now it’s like he completely forgot it was even happening. It’s just-... It’s reminding me of third year, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

You begin fiddling with the sleeve of your dress. “Remember that morning he had just disappeared.”

It was back when most of your friend group was still in university. Back then, Eren and Armin were sharing a dorm and one night Eren vanished. All day, no one knew where he was. He’d left his phone, keys, and wallet at home and hadn’t told anyone he was going somewhere. He’d missed class, practice, and the plans the two of you had made to meet up for lunch.

You were ready to put in a missing persons report when that evening he just-… came back.

Around 7pm, he walked back into his dorm acting completely normally. He said he needed some time away from everyone and think about something, but as he said it he had this look in his eyes. A look that… you weren’t sure what to make of.

The same look he’d had only a few hours ago; after he released you from where he’d pinned you to your bed.

“Yeah...” Jean agreed as he swirled his champagne in his glass and stared down at it in deep concentration.

“It’s just reminding me of that.” You say. “All morning he was so stiff and awkward. He said it was just a bad dream messing with his head but he-... he didn’t know who I was, Jean. He knew who Armin was though. And you. Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Annie, Mikasa, Marco, Ymir- literally everyone but me and I-”

Then Jean starts choking on his drink.

“Jean!” You exclaim as you take his drink from him and pat his back.

“It’s-” he manages before another cough, “b-bye!” Jean coughs again. “I gotta-” He staggers away, still trying to clear his throat. “Armin-”

You’re left there holding Jean’s drink. Completely confused as you watch him push through your group of friends in search of Armin, who’d disappeared at some point while you and Jean had been talking.

You’re somehow left even more confused than ever.

Your eyes scan the banquet hall and Eren is nowhere to be seen.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 10 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Your lesson with Jungkook ran a bit longer today so he offers to give you a ride home but decides to make a stop along the way Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2.7k~ Warnings: Suggestive language if you think about it lmao but nothing too crazy a/n: I can't believe it's been this long since I last updated this story 😭 (almost 2 months) I know this chapter is short but the ball is coming up in the next chapter so this was a good stopping point. Hardly edited per usual lol Start from the beginning

"Late again princess. I should start counting at this rate" Jungkooks taunts, his back to me as always when I walk in the room. "Prey tell," he continues, turning to face me and sizing me up like a predator does his prey. "what might your excuse be for being late this time? The roads were quite clear last I checked" he presses, walking closer and closer to me. 

"I-I forgot my shoes at home. I know you told me I needed to break them in so..." I say, being truthful but keeping the matter of being stopped by Foster on my way out of class to myself. 

"Why are you so nervous? Have I done something to frighten you already?" he asks, circling me and slipping my bag off my shoulder before walking over to the chair I usually sit on when I change into my heels before class. 

Gone is the easy going and attentive Jungkook from Sunday, leaving a hungry dominant one in it's wake. 

"I'm not frightened" I argue, following him so I can sit down but when I reach for the box that contains the shoes in question he gives me a warning glance, leaving me recoiling and letting him do as he pleases. 

Okay so maybe I am a little frightened but I just don't know where we stand and that fact alone has me on edge. 

"You look at me as though you were afraid I might gobble you up" he smirks, kneeling before me and helping me slip them on. "You look at me as though you would" I throw back and the look in his eyes goes from mischief to one of challenge, knowing now that I'm willing to play into his little game. 

"Is that something you'd like?" he asks, licking his bottom lip making my eyes draw straight to them. "Is that something you'd like?" I echo, throwing the taunt right back. He smirks softly and runs one of his hands up the back of my calf, no higher than my knee but still sparking a flame alight inside me.

"Answering a question with a question, I was under the impression I taught you better than that" he says and removes that hand that I begged would climb higher, him choosing to stand up and straighten his appearance instead, walking towards the sound system to turn on the endless ballroom music I'm sure we'll be dancing to. 

Damn him and his flirting! Can't he ever just follow through with one thing? 

~~~~~

As our lessons draw to a close he hands me a bottle of water, leaving me accepting and downing half of it in one go. 

I feel his eyes on me, watching as a stray droplet trails down my cheek to the column of my neck and collarbone until it disappears under my blouse and it seems as though he wishes he could tear it away and find where else that droplet might've traveled. 

I finished drinking moments before it disappeared, watching him as he watched it, his eyes fluttering up to mine seconds later and noticing my stare. Clearing his throat in response he turns away and goes to shut off the sound system for the rest of the day. 

"Your dancing is improving" he says once he's walked back towards me, giving me a towel to dab off the light sheen of sweat that had appeared during the final three songs. "I only stepped on your foot once today" I say feeling a tad victorious. 

"Twice" he corrects gaining him a frown. "That one doesn't count! My foot barely grazed yours" I groan and he chuckles, "Still hurt though" he says with a shrug. 

"Really?" I cringe, hating the thought that I somehow still seemed to hurt him even after all the time we've spent running through all these steps together. He grants me a devious smile before stepping towards me, one of his feet closer to mine now. I look up at him with a questioning gaze, waiting for what he might say but it wasn't something I had expected. 

"Step on it" he says, smirking at the confusion now running through my whole body leaving me recoiling instead. "What?" I question, baffled by the absurdity of the request and he chuckles, thoroughly amused with my reaction. He glances down at his shoe and back up at me, daring me not to and I narrow my eyes at him while contemplating it for a second but decide to do it anyway, being met with a hard shell encasing the front of his foot.

"Steel toe dress shoes? Really" I roll my eyes, walking over to my stuff so I can take my heels off, feet thoroughly abused with the whole task of breaking them in. "They're very useful when you're in the line of work that I'm in" he responds, amused by my reaction of him revealing his secret to me. 

"I bet they are" I respond and once I'm back in my flat shoes again I stand up but lose my footing after having spent all this time on my toes. "Are you okay?" he asks, catching me right away. "Yeah I'm fine. Dancing with new shoes was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be" I explain and he nods his head, understanding completely and lets go so I can stand on my own. 

"Were you planning on teaching me anything else tonight? It's already a little past the usual time we wrap things up" I ask, checking my phone and then glancing outside, seeing that the sun is long gone. 

"Oh I apologize, I seem to have lost track of time. Let me drop you off then" he says, grabbing his keys. "I drove here though, and I'd hate to have James send someone to pick up the car again" I try to refuse, ultimately knowing I'll lose the battle but still doing so nevertheless. 

"It's fine, I can come pick you up from home and take you to campus when I drop off Bam at his trainers in the morning" he says and I stop in front of his car while he goes to the passenger side and opens the door for me. 

"Isn't that a little too much? I don't want you going out of your way to do that for me" I say, making excuses so he doesn't feel like he has to do all of that. "It's completely fine y/n. I pass by your house on my way home anyway so I don't mind adding a couple of extra stops since I don't have much planned in the morning" he replies and I nod my head, slowly making my way over to his car. 

"I really don't mind driving in the dark Jungkook my vision is completely fine" I relay, trying to back out once again but this time he walks up to me and ushers me over to the car by my waist so I have no other option but to get in. 

"Okay but I-" I start, turning to face him before I get in, not knowing how close his face had been to me, leaving our lips mere inches apart. He tilts his head and hums, urging me to continue. I try to find the words I mean to say but they are buried in the deep recesses of mind, whisked away with the proximity between us. 

"I'll pick you up once your classes have ended as well. That way you'll be here on time tomorrow" he says, touching my jaw for a second before leaning in. "Get in the car" he whispers against my cheek leaving me quickly turning around and doing as he says before he can see my expression. 

Seconds later I could've sworn that I heard him chuckle and mumble a quiet 'Cute' under his breath before closing the door and rounding the car to his side. 

~~~~

After we've been driving for a bit I notice how he's pulled off onto a dirt road and I'm instantly confused. 

"Is this where you plan on killing me?" I joke, curious as to where we're going. "If I wanted to kill you Pretty," he starts, paying close attention as we round a bend, pausing in his response for a second. "you'd already be dead" he finishes, sending a chill through my body and when he notices how stiff I've gone he gives me a sly smile before turning back to make sure we get to our destination safely. 

"I went ahead and messaged Matthew and asked him to inform James that our lessons ran a little late so they won't be too concerned" he says, putting the car in park and unbuckling his seatbelt. "So this is where you're going to kill me" I say and he chuckles again before tapping me twice under my chin. "You're cute when you're scared" he says before opening his door and rounding to open mine.

I cross my arms over my chest, thoroughly annoyed by the fact that I let him get away with stuff like this to the point where I actually prefer it. I'll never give him the satisfaction of knowing that though. Knowing him though he's probably already very aware of it, otherwise he wouldn't keep pushing my buttons. 

When he opens the door I glare up at him keeping that same posture and he smirks down at me while offering his hand to help me up. "Where are we?" I ask and he lets out a dry chuckle. "Get out of the car and you'll find out" he temps and I look between him and his outstretched hand that is still waiting for me to take and against my better judgement I decide to dance with the Devil. 

Who would blame me though when he looks at me like that, a heated gaze that never truly acts upon the sinful desires hidden behind them.

Stepping out of the car we're met with an open expanse of land, not a single soul or building in sight with only the low hum of vehicles barely audible from the highway behind us. "What is this place?" I question marveling at the serenity of it all, breathing in the could night air and letting the chill surround me. 

I shiver slightly as it's seeped through my clothes a lot sooner than one might think and just as I'm about to wrap my arms around myself for warmth I'm met with a coat being draped across my shoulders and when I turn around I see he's looking up towards the sky. 

"Have you looked up yet?" he ask, the body heat from him wearing it moments ago still present making me shiver for another reason but once I do look up none of it matters anymore as I take in the sight of thousands of heavenly bodies strewn across the clear night sky. 

"I-" "You were so concerned with the thought of me harming you that you didn't even notice the clear purpose of me wanting to bring you here" he say, cutting off whatever nonsense I was about to let tumble out of my mouth. I sigh in response, not bothering to ruin this moment of peace with nonsensical bickering since he's clearly done this with me in mind.

"How did you find this place?" I ask after having taken in the sight of it, countless start twinkling above us. "I went driving one day and my car broke down so I pulled off near the entrance of this little dirt road and while I was waiting for the tow truck I walked down the path and well..." he says, trailing off making me fill in the obvious blanks. 

"I see" I respond and we stay silent for a while, the both of us standing there with all of our thoughts angled up towards the heavens until he finally speaks again. "I should probably get you home" he says, turning towards me but I shake my head.

 "No, no not yet. Can we stay a little longer? Please?" I ask, this moment difficult to let go just yet and can see him smiling at me from the corner of my eye as I continue to keep my eyes on the stars above, praying that I'll be able to feel this way forever...

~~~~~

When he parks his car in the driveway and opens the door for me he keeps me there for a second, not letting me get away so fast this time. "Thank you for letting me keep you a little longer tonight" he says, ghosting his hand on my waist and it's then that I realize I'm still wearing the coat he let me borrow. I try to take off but he grabs both of the open sides and pulls them together, trapping me inside and in turn pulling me closer to him.

"I wanted to give your jacket back to you" I mumble since the intimate space between us makes even that sound too loud. "I realize that, but I want to get you inside first before taking it back. Don't want you to catch a cold after all the effort I put in to make sure you stayed warm" he explains, one of his hands now holding onto my waist while the other keeps the coat closed.

I hum in response and look away as I notice he's started to study my features. "The ball is this weekend" he says and I nod my head. "I know" I mumble again, my expression now one of doubt. "Hey" he says, cupping my face, trying to make me meet his gaze but my eyes then turn downward in response. 

"There's nothing to worry about y/n, I promise" he says and I nod my head again, not bothering to utter a word in response. He tilts my chin up and I give in, letting my eyes peer back into his and I notice how sincere he looks, an expression I don't think I've ever seen from him leaving me holding my breath and waiting for him to continue. 

"No matter what happens just remember that I'm proud of you. You've done well in our lessons and I have no doubt that everyone is going to love you" he reassures me making me feel a little more at ease with the thought of it all but also nervous about him saying things like this to me.

"Thank you Jungkook" I whisper and he smiles in response before reaching into the car to grab my bag that's still on my seat and handing it to me. "Let's get you inside" he says placing his hand on the small of my back, walking me to the front door and stopping right outside of it, waiting for me to unlock it. 

Once I step inside I turn around to say something but he steps inside making me take a step back but he takes another step closer so he's standing right in front of me, hardly any space between us now. 

I blink up at him, not really sure what his plan is before he slowly unzips the coat the rest of the way, making my breath hitch, the feeling of him taking my clothes off even if it's as simple as this making my brain short circuit. Once he unhooks it at the bottom he pushes it off my shoulders and leans in to help it slide down my arms leaving me shivering once his warm breath hits my neck. 

He hums, satisfied by my response and places a feather light kiss under my ear before quickly pulling back and pretending as if nothing had happened meanwhile leaving me completely flustered by his ministrations. 

Let's just say I'm lucky neither of my parents came downstairs to greet us. 

"Sweet dreams" he says playfully and slips out without another word, walking over to his car and driving off. I only close the door once his car is out of view, my back against it now, catching my breath as I think about everything that happened today and all I can think of is 'How the hell am I supposed to take much more of this?'

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[chrissturniolosbiggestslut]

HOW U FEEL?

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

in which:

chris's favorite thing about you is your eyes, and he makes sure you know it.

(i hate to admit it but i actually hate this and my vision did not go as planned so)

warnings: literally none, pure tooth-rotting fluff

"every time i look in your eyes, i look away mesmerized and you shine brighter than the stars that decorate the night sky," - destroy lonely; how u feel? 0:26-0:33.

**NOT PROOFREAD**

└───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚┘

one of your favorite things about you and chris's relationship was that you both were very lovey, cuddly people once you got comfortable. the two of you couldn't even manage to go a single day without some form of physical touch; whether that be chris's hand in the back pocket of your jeans, or him atop of you with your hands carding through his hair peacefully.

in fact, that's exactly where you two find yourselves right now. chris was laying on top of you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist with his head on your stomach. your hands ran through his dark hair, scratching his scalp softly every so often. you heard the boy hum in satisfaction, smiling softly at the vibrations that tickled your body.

nick looked over at you two, a disgusted look covering his face. "so are we gonna fucking do anything or are the two of you just gonna be lame whores all day?" he asks. though nick acts absolutely sick at you and chris's relationship, you both know that he actually thinks you two are adorable; he's admitted to it many times.

chris shook his head against you, wrapping his arms tighter than you thought he could. "im actually pretty comfortable right now, nick. so, no thanks. keep playing with my hair baby," he mutters. you laugh, placing your hand back in his hair. 

matt scoffs, "i wish you guys weren't so boring now," he states, eliciting a face from you.

"shut the fuck up, matt. you're just mad that you're single… and a virgin."

at that, matt whips his body around, his eyes wide. "i am not!"

you tilt your head in amusement, smirking at the boy. "is that so? because last time i checked-" you look down, twisting sections of chris's hair around your finger.

"y/n shut your mouth," matt demands, returning back to his original position, embarrassed.

chris sits up from atop of you, "k, can you two leave my room now?" chris asks his siblings, but he's not exactly asking; more so demanding.

nick rolls his eyes, standing up from the end of the bed and walking out, not before shouting "boo you whores!" in the doorframe. matt's next to stand up from chris's chair, leaving without a word and shutting the door behind him.

you look down at chris as he looks up at you. he's gone back to laying on top of you, his chin on your stomach as he admires you. you smile softly, "y'know, you didn't have to kick them out."

the boy completely ignores your comment, "your eyes are so pretty. did ya'know that i love your eyes? they're just so beautiful; they compliment your face so well," he rambles, a soft pink coating his cheeks the longer he looks at you.

your cheeks seem to return the favor, your smiles grows and soon enough your cheesing at the boy. you turn to the side to hide your face in a pillow. "stop!" you squeal.

he smiles, "what? i mean they're just perfect. your eyelashes too. i don't know how i got so lucky, ma. you're just perfect."

you can almost feel the burning heat in your cheeks, turning back to face him, shoving his face away with your palm. "shut up," you reply simply.

chris puts his hands up in defense, "my fault that i managed to bag the most perfect-ist bitch there is!"

you raise an eyebrow at him, looking at the boy with a warning look. he stutters, "i- i mean the most perfect-ist woman there is," he scratches the back of his neck.

"yeah that's what i thought. also it's not perfect-ist you moron idiot. did you learn anything in school?"

[azrielstaylorsversion]

Scars to match mine - Part 2

Azriel x reader fluff

Part 1

Warnings: burns, bad thoughts

After being brought home safely by Azriel, Y/N has to heal. Her mate makes sure she makes it through.

I wince, pulling my hands back. I was being stubborn again. I wasn't even supposed to pick things up yet, but everyone was out of the house, so no one would be able to tell me not to do it.

I sighed to myself, feeling helpless. But most of all, I felt worthless. I tried not to show Azriel my true feelings about my hands, being scared I might hurt his feelings in the progress.

While I loved his scars, I hated my own.

I had only seen them once. That was last week. It's been three weeks since it happened.

Madja has changed my bandages a few times now, but I refused to look. When I watched her do it last week I immediately regretted it.

When the kind healer had left I locked myself in the bathroom for hours. Crying until there were no tears left.

Luckily for me, Azriel wasn't home that day. I didn't want him to see me like that.

He comforted me every evening, telling me how beautiful I looked and how lovely I am. I always accepted his kind words, but something inside of me told me not to believe him.

Every time I had to remind myself to look at his scars. His beautiful scars. That I could love my own like I loved his, but a second later that thought would disappear, a bad one replacing it.

I hadn't really been out of the house in the last few weeks. I enjoyed the quiet around our small home. It was far enough away from the busy streets of Velaris to never be bothered by any sounds.

My head was pounding from all the thoughts when my mind came back to reality. My eyes fell on the book that had fallen to the ground.

I put my bandaged hands over my face, groaning loudly.

I wasn't even able to pick up a book. I wanted to scream, to break things, but instead I chose to sit down in front of the fire place. Without a book.

Or anything to drink or eat. I had tried to get something for myself, but it hurt too much, and I didn't really enjoy the thought of grabbing things with my arms or mouth. Even the thought of picking something up with my feet had crossed my mind.

I felt a comforting brush through the bond, letting me know Azriel was near. He always did that.

I had blocked the bond enough for the last few weeks to make it pass as normal so he wouldn't question all my weird thoughts and feelings.

The front door of our house opened and closed softly. A few seconds later Azriel appeared in the doorway, smiling at me as he made his way over.

I tried to return the smile as best as possible, but I could already see and feel his confusion grow as he saw me sitting helplessly on the couch.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes scanning around the room and landing on the book on the ground.

He didn't give me time to answer. "You should've called for me." he spoke softly.

I swallowed. "I know."

He picked up the book, handing it to me. I awkwardly tried to take it before he pulled it away from me.

"I don't care what you tell me. I can tell that you've been hiding from me and telling me half truths." he said, his voice firm but soft.

I tried to speak, but I couldn't find the right words. My mouth opened and closed. He was totally right. I sighed in defeat.

"How are your hands feeling?" he asked again. "And don't tell me 'fine' or 'better'. I need a real answer." he walked over to the couch, sitting down next to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder, making me look at him.

I hesitated, but moved over to his side. He wrapped his arms around me, being careful with my hands.

"It's not fine. Or better." I spoke softly.

"Tell me about it." he placed a kiss against my temple, moving his hand up and down my arm.

I sighed. "The feeling is weird, but it hurts. I can't pick anything up. I feel helpless all the time. I feel worthless. I hate all of it." the words spilled out of my mouth.

Azriel stiffened, his hand stopping for a few seconds before continuing. "And why do you feel helpless? Why do you feel worthless?"

I regretted my words now. "I... I can't do anything." I was talking to my mate. I could tell him anything. "I hate myself for letting this happen. I hate myself for the scars it will leave." I immediately turned ny head around. "I mean.. my scars. Not yours. Yours are beautiful. I just-, I just feel so weird and different and I don't really want to talk about it, but I need to. I can't just shut you out. I am so sorry." I was just rambling at this point, but Azriel kept his eyes on me, listening to every word.

After I stopped myself from talking more I turned my head away from Azriel, feeling too embarrassed. I really didn't want to hurt him with my own insecurities.

"Your words don't hurt me. I know you think that." he said softly.

He knew me better than anyone else.

He put one hand on my side, the other on my cheek. "I can't fix your hands. But I can help you with the healing process." he told me softly. "Everything will be okay. We'll get through this together."

I leaned into his touch, blinking away the tears at his kind words. I nodded in agreement.

He gently kissed both my bandaged hands before pecking my lips.

"Now tell me what book I can help you pick up."

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 21

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Friday)

Masterlist

“No! No, no and no!”

“Mase?” Adele murmured, moving her hand over the other side of the bed. It was empty. 

“I said no!” she heard again. 

“What the…” she said to herself, slowly opening her eyes and checking her phone. It was almost 1 p.m. She had definitely overslept, but with the night she and Mason had had, who could blame her? 

After their rendezvous on the rooftop they had gone back to the party, Rianne convincing them to have another round of shots. That had led them to the dancefloor again, where they had danced and sang with their friends until their throats hurt. 

Once back at their apartment, Adele and Mason had continued with what they had been doing on the rooftop. Clothes had started flying the moment they had crossed the door, and they hadn't been able to make it to their room. When they finally did and decided it was time to have some sleep, the first rays of sunlight were starting to be visible. 

“No means no! Do you hear me? No!” Mason shouted before throwing his phone on the couch.

“Mase, are you ok?” Adele asked, meeting him in the living room.

“Addie” he gasped. “Addie, I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“Just a bit” she smiled.

“You look so cute right now” he chuckled, walking towards her.

“I'm slightly hungover and I feel like untangling my hair is gonna be a nightmare. How is that cute?”

“Because you are cute” he smiled, hugging her and kissing her forehead.

“I thought I was the hottest woman you had ever seen.”

“That too” he laughed.

“Mase… what happened?” she asked. “Who were you yelling at?”

“It's nothing, don't worry.”

“Mase… Mason. What happened?” Adele insisted, freeing herself from his embracement so she could look him in the eyes. “I thought that we could tell each other anything. That we trusted each other.”

“It's just… It's… My agency” he sighed, letting himself fall on the couch.

“What did they do now?” she said, sitting next to him.

“Turns out that yesterday's party wasn't as private and exclusive as we thought, there was someone taking photos of the guests, and our photos have made it to all the headlines this morning.”

“Our… photos?”

“Of us making out and being all over each other, dancing with our friends, drinking... They are saying we had a crazy and wild night full of excesses, from alcohol to sex, and maybe even drugs.”

“What?”

“Yeah” he sighed. “There are people saying that we left the party to go get high, but the insider who sold the photos says we left to do what we actually did.”

“That's, umm… Kind of them?” 

“I guess. But there is more.”

“More?”

“People believe you are pregnant, Addie. A pregnant woman doesn't do what you did yesterday. So you can imagine how crazy things are online, the fights people are having because of it. The believers say you weren't drinking alcohol, the non believers say you were. Then you have people hating on us because how dare we have sex and drink, that what an example we are for the young people who follow us, while others are telling them that good for us, that we should enjoy it while we can. And then there are conspiracy theorists analyzing all the photos to say it wasn't us or that we were faking everything, that couples don't kiss or touch like that. The usual with them.”

“So it is chaos.”

“Yeah” Mason sighed again while rubbing his temples. 

“And you were shouting at your agency because…”

“Because they… they…”

“C'mon, Mase” Adele said, taking his hand on hers and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“They want to say that you had a miscarriage, Addie.”

“What?”

“That's how they want to explain what happened yesterday. That you had a miscarriage last month, and that partying was your way to deal with it.”

“That's… that's…”

“Sickening, I know. I told them that if they dared send that information to the press I was going to sue them, that I didn't care about the consequences. But they didn't want to listen to me. They kept insisting on this being the best option.”

“The best option? Oh, c'mon” Adele said, getting up from the sofa and starting to pace around the room. “Lying about something that serious is simply disgusting. Just coming with the idea is, to be honest. And if they think people will feel sorry about me, they are wrong. About you, most definitely, they are your fans. But me? They will blame me for what happened, say that I did something to lose the baby, that I was reckless. They will tear me to pieces, Mason.”

“I know” he said, also getting up. 

“And people at your agency aren't stupid. They keep up with all the comments and crazy theories, they know this will happen. But if they haven't cared about the hate I've gotten so far, why would they care now?” Adele said, not being able to contain her tears.

“Addie… Addie, hey” Mason said, walking towards her and cupping her face. “Addie, no one is gonna bully you. I'm not gonna let them.”

“But if they publish those lies…”

“They won't, I'm not going to allow it. No one is gonna hurt the woman I love, do you hear me? No one.”

“This is such a mess, Mason” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“But we'll fix it, Addie. I promise you we will” he said while hugging her as tight as he could. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Miss Turlington? She will see you now.”

“Thank you.”

“Adele!” Mason's agent said when she walked into her office. “What a nice surprise. What brings you here?”

“We need to talk.”

“Oh, ok. Please have a seat” she said, gesturing towards the chair in front of her desk. “May I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee? Tea?”

“I'm fine.”

“Alright, then. What did you want to talk about?”

“I want you to stop the madness you and your agency have created.”

“What?” she laughed.

“It isn't funny, Mrs. Lautner.”

“Please call me Erin.”

“It isn't funny, Erin” Adele repeated. It had been a week since the photos of the party had been published, and things hadn't calmed down.

Online it still was chaos, threats and hate comments being thrown right and left between fans and towards her and Mason. And in the real world, it was like they had traveled back in time to the days where the paparazzis camped outside their houses to get a photo of them together. They had even had to cancel their romantic gateway to the château they had visited after the Dior show and go back to London, someone tipping the photographers about where they were staying.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry” Erin said. “But what do you want me to do?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Adele laughed. “I want you to release some kind of statement and tell the world that I am not pregnant and never have been.”

“But Adele…”

“No” she said, trying to channel her mother when she would get serious with her and Luca. “You are going to end this mess, and you are going to do it now.”

“That's not how things work and you know it.”

“You have two days. When Mason comes back from his work trip to Spain, I want this problem fixed.”

“Or what?” Erin said, arching an eyebrow.

“Or you will be losing an amazing deal that would benefit you and your agency, and that only I can get you.”

“What kind of deal?”

“Me shooting Mason for the cover of British Vogue’s March issue.”

“What?” she laughed. “That's almost impossible! Only big names get to be on the March issue, and it is always women the ones who do it. It is the most important issue besides the September one!”

“I know. But when you are Elizabeth Turlington’s daughter, and the current editor-in-chief of the magazine is your godfather…” Adele shrugged.

“He's… oh. That's… I'm listening” Erin said, moving forward on her chair.

“Well, we met in Paris during fashion week, and after seeing my photos for Dior, he asked me if anyone had suggested yet the idea of me shooting Mason.”

“It has happened more than once, and you've always said no. What has made you change your mind?”

“That this time I will be working for and with someone I trust and have known my whole life, and that I will have creative freedom, which is something that none of the other offers included.”

“Has Mason said yes?”

“He has. But on one condition” Adele said. “That you finally put an end to the pregnancy rumours by telling the truth: that I've never been pregnant, and that those photos were taken out of context.”

“It isn't going to be that easy, tho.”

“You and your team are very clever, Erin. I'm sure you will come up with something. But no more lies.”

“Ok, fine” she sighed. “We deny the pregnancy saying that you never were pregnant and it was all a mistake, and you shoot Mason for British Vogue. Is that the deal?”

“The base of it, yes” Adele said.

“The base?”

“We can add some extras. For example, if Mason and I are satisfied with the result of your explanation and the way you handle things after that, I can talk with my godfather and also get him an interview. Maybe video content, something like a behind the scenes of me shooting him and being all lovey-dovey. I'm sure fans would love that.”

“That would actually be amazing… Ok, fine” Erin said after a few seconds in silence. “We have a deal.”

“If we don't like what you do…”

“There will be no cover. I know” she said, offering Adele her hand. “Deal?”

“Deal” she said, shaking it. “Now let me call my lawyer so he can get the contract ready. He's waiting in the coffee shop next door.”

“What?” Erin chuckled. “There is no need for that, Adele.”

“I don't make deals without witnesses and with just a handshake, Mrs. Lautner. I'm my father's daughter and not an idiot, so I do things properly and, most importantly, legally. Leave it or take it.”

“I… Umm…”

“I have things to do, Mrs. Lautner. So if you could please make up your mind…”

“Fine, fine! Call your lawyer.”

“Thank you” Adele smiled. Her plan was already in motion, and the first part had been a success. 

[darsynia]

The Smoke That Roams (post-apocalypse AU Bucky/Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | lmk if you want to be tagged for Bucky fics!

Summary: You and Bucky find each other after the world almost ends

Length/Warnings: 3,080 | sex, allusions to violence

Notes: I tagged this on AO3 as 'romance and survival soaked in metaphor,' lol. It's post-apocalyptic angst. Stop typing, Darsy.

Excerpt:

You weren’t afraid of him, you realized. You were afraid for him. He was a supersoldier, but he wasn’t immortal. Bucky often went off by himself without saying anything to you--but what if someday he didn’t come back? 

A pillow landed on the queen sized bed beside yours, followed by a blanket, followed by Bucky, who threw himself onto his back beside you with as much care as he’d tossed everything else. He was so warm you could feel the heat radiating through the space that separated you, even though none of it carried through to his tone.

“You’re safe. Go to sleep.”

It was… exactly what you needed.

The Smoke That Roams

You used to compare him to a solid, cold hunk of metal. Non-reflective but uncorroded, with a metaphorical melting point so high it’s practically unreachable. A weapon when thrown but otherwise safe, foundational, inexpressive.

That was before he touched you.

Bucky Barnes is not safe. He is expressive, though. Just not with words.

now

The world isn’t destroyed. There are still plants, there are still animals, and there are still safe places to spend time. The planet may actually be better off now than in the last few hundred years, because the humans who were in the process of ruining things just barely failed.

There are no regulations, no government-enforced exclusion zones, only good- and bad-intentioned people living day to day. You figure humanity has around twenty years of 'every man for himself' to realize how difficult it is to grow crops and sustain life. Until then, everyone’s subsisting on canned food and shelf-stable meats while hating every second of it.

Boredom is an unexpectedly dystopian pandemic, post-apocalypse. Books still exist, so there’s that. Unfortunately, even if there were experienced people to keep the electrical grid going, it’s completely unsustainable without an accompanying society. When you’re really depressed, you picture various survivors all around the world hunkering down to read Jurassic Park or Gone Girl next to pine-scented candles or last year’s Pantone table tapers. Once, you imagined a group of miserable assholes warming their hands next to a bonfire of Live, Laugh, Love wall hangings outside of a Cracker Barrel. It helped. You doubt any Karens survived the apocalypse to object.

then

You survived out of luck, if you could call living in the aftermath of a failed nuclear response ‘luck.’ 

Given the honest-to-fuck alien invasion, those nuclear strikes should have taken out the whole area. Instead, a strange golden dome repelled the worst of the damage, but you knew better than to assume it would stick around. After gathering some important provisions (including a gun and all your ammo), you spent some time bundling up your lawnmower’s spare gas can. You'd read The Stand. There's no way you're strong enough to pilfer gasoline from an underground tank.

That was when you found a leather-clad warrior man standing beside your motorcycle. He didn't seem surprised to see you. “You know how to ride this?”

“You after parts or gas?” you asked, hand on the butt of your gun. You were high on survivor’s guilt and low on bravado. He noticed both.

“A bodyguard,” Bucky told you sardonically.

He eventually told you the real reason, but at the time you’d pulled courage out of the sulfuric smell of danger in the air and suggested you watch each other’s backs.

now

“Still awake?”

You roll over to see Bucky’s familiar shape standing at the window, outlined in moonlight.

“Yeah. It’s too quiet.” Yesterday the two of you had retreated further into the mountains, judging your previous temporary home too close to the river after seeing two small groups using it for through travel.

“Never thought I’d like the quiet this much,” he muses.

Getting up, you move to stand beside him, still dressed in multiple layers to ward off the colder elevation. “That’s because it matters why it’s quiet.”

He doesn’t look over, but his smile is gorgeous in the dim light. “That’s a war reference.”

“You’re damn right.”

The two of you stand in silence, watching the shadows of the nearby trees play in the wind until he speaks again, gruff and oddly defensive.

“I was right about the shelter.”

“There’s a radio? Was it the right kind?”

“Yeah. Months worth of food, too.”

You’re embarrassed at how excited you are at the thought of MREs. “That’s great,” you say, reaching out to touch his arm. It’s sopping wet. Turning to look at him more fully, you see that his hair is wet too. He’s been dripping the whole time he's stood there; there’s a halo of wet, dark spots on the floor around him that feel almost symbolic.

“Most of the food was untouched. Ghosts don’t eat much.”

“How many?” You have to dredge to find enough moisture to rub your vocal cords together.

“Just one. Buried him in the woods pretty far out, washed up in the river.”

Bucky leaves so much unsaid, but you’re good at decoding him by now. This new cabin is miles from the river. As a good ‘bodyguard,’ though, you have one more clarifying question. It’ll matter, if you want to stay here for longer than a week or two.

“Was there evidence of-- did someone else--”

“Self-inflicted.”

“Yeah, aren’t we all,” you sigh, pushing away the guilt of relief.

then

You learned him slowly.

Bucky didn’t need a bodyguard as much as a body, or more accurately a second person to help carry the items he was gathering. It made sense; even a loner like him wouldn’t separate from the other Avengers without a reason. Their version of ‘strength in numbers’ was too complicated to understand and he didn’t really explain, but it had something to do with scattered communication, whatever that meant.

The parts he needed were in military bases, abandoned (and guarded, which was fucking terrifying) high rises, and one notable item was in a corn field. Eventually he gave you his motorcycle and upgraded to one with a sidecar.

You didn’t ask why it was wet when he showed up with it, but you had an idea of why he might have needed to clean it off.

By then you were used to sharing a room with him, dressing and undressing when he was out of the room or faced away. He didn't seem to mind, but you couldn’t really tell, and he didn’t say. 

You were more like coworkers than anything else, to the point that he barely spoke once one of you started readying for bed, like an unwritten boundary. Not that night. He’d broken into a hotel with two beds, one for each of you. That night, instead of his usual steady rhythm of breaths that eventually lengthened into sleep, there was just pensive silence.

Silence was the worst part of your new life. Silence allowed doubts and fears to creep into the gaps between breaths, clawing out space for larger worries. Bucky was quiet, but he was rarely silent.

“It’s not cold,” he finally said, almost accusatory.

You didn’t know how to respond. You weren’t cold, you were in shock. Death was everywhere and nowhere; either you fought for your life or saw the evidence of those who’d lost that battle. Each choice came with terrible necessity. Had that sidecar been a necessity? 

The flashlight clicked on. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m not cold.”

You weren’t afraid of him, you realized. You were afraid for him. He was a supersoldier, but he wasn’t immortal. Bucky often went off by himself without saying anything to you--but what if someday he didn’t come back? 

A pillow landed on the queen sized bed beside yours, followed by a blanket, followed by Bucky, who threw himself onto his back beside you with as much care as he’d tossed everything else. He was so warm you could feel the heat radiating through the space that separated you, even though none of it carried through to his tone.

“You’re safe. Go to sleep.”

It was… exactly what you needed.

now

“I need to build it as high up as I can,” Bucky says.

“Not ‘we?’” you ask, nowhere near as breezy as you hoped.

“I need you to be here, safe.” He reaches out and grabs your hand with his smooth, river-damp metal one, squeezing just too much. It’s as calculated as it is unintentional, like your relationship. “This time, ‘safe’ is not with me.”

He can run for days, heal his own wounds, kill in so many ways it would take a week to list them all, and you still don’t want him to go alone.

You don’t say that, though.

Instead, you tuck yourself against Bucky’s chest, wrapping your arms around his drenched torso. There are no dryers, no radiators to hang your wet clothes on, no fireplace to dry them by. It’s a message.

He holds you close in the moonlight, his river water soaking into you, your unspoken love seeping into him.

then 

Bucky learned you fiercely.

After begrudgingly joining you the first time, he slept beside you from then on, handling it the same way he handled everything: with little explanation and an air of inflexibility. Suddenly you were two people who slept (slept, mind you) together, the metal plates of your lives shifting perfectly to fit that new reality. 

You didn’t fully understand what it all meant until the night Bucky went for a walk instead of getting into bed. He’d killed a man right in front of you that day--brief, brutal, and bleak--and you'd waited for him to come back, alone with your own brutal and bleak thoughts. Had survival destroyed your morality? Why had he been beautiful as he’d ended the attacker’s life? Couldn’t things go back to the way they were? You didn’t ask for this!

Then it hit you.

Neither did he.

You got to travel with him in 2019 because someone did things to him in the 40s that he’d never asked for.

Bucky came back, but that didn't help you purge those horrible thoughts, not until he sighed in obvious annoyance and threw an arm over your hip, dragging you back against his chest like it was an obligation.

Only then could you sleep.

And so could he.

now

The moon is too high to shine through your borrowed window anymore, so Bucky leads you back to the bed in the dark. He guides your clothes over your head and down your hips as unerringly as a marksman who knows the specs of his weapons. When he kisses you, it’s sloppy and imprecise, like he doesn't have time to come up with a plan other than 'must touch, now.'

He drops you onto your back on the bed and straightens up, stripping off his shirt. You figure that out by the sound the sodden fabric makes on the hardwood floor, a wet thunk followed by the metal pinging noise his belt buckle makes.

A strange realization hits you: for the first time since everything went to hell, you don’t want water stains on the floor. This could be your place, yours and his. The thought warms the places where you’d pressed up against Bucky’s wet clothes, but soon his kisses do that for you, furnace-hot yet gentle as the curl of smoke from your frequent campfires.

You burn for him, and you have since before he touched you with intent and looked at you with desire. 

then

Post-apocalyptic isolation was finally getting to you.

The warehouse was cold, impersonal, and dangerous enough that no one lived there, despite being a single building surrounded by miles of possibly-fertile fields. Back when it was operating, that had protected the county population, and now that it was not, its position could best be called strategic. No one could sneak up on you if you were diligent, but the monotony of guard duty was wearing on you. So was the wind coming off of the unrelenting central plains.

You'd never seen Bucky that frustrated before. He came to bed each night tense and sullen, even angry, and instinctively, you’d done your best to give him space. It was only in the last few nights that ‘space’ had included sleeping separately, despite the chill of early autumn that seeped into your bones from the concrete floor.

Day five of that singular brand of loneliness happened to be day thirteen at that location. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“Let me help you.” Your tone was wounded, but you didn’t raise your voice.

“You are helping.”

“There’s no point in me watching for nonexistent scavengers when whatever you’re doing isn’t working down here! Especially since--” Your words turned to ash in midair. You’d been about to say ‘especially since you won’t sleep with me anymore,’ which made your relationship sound vastly different than what it actually was.

Bucky smiled for the first time in days. “Go on.”

“No way. Mad Max himself couldn’t drag it from me.”

“I think I saw that one,” he said, swiping a precious candy bar from the special stash and sitting on a stack of pallets. “Sand and cars?”

You choke out a laugh. “If any of the filmmakers are still alive, can you even imagine--”

“They probably murder anyone that brings it up.” Bucky wrapped up the rest of the candy bar and held it up like he was about to toss it to you. “Tell me.”

Your chest felt like you’d swallowed lighter fluid. He looked happier than he had in days, and you had no idea if telling him the truth would toss a match or douse it.

Well, you lived with enough fear as it is.

“Fine,” you said with fake annoyance. “I was going to say that it’s hard to sleep without you breathing on my neck and hogging the blanket.” The plan was to be flippant, to avoid seeing his response, but an arsonist can never look away from their own blaze.

Bucky was still sitting the way he had been before, but you could see the tension ebbing from his shoulders. His metal hand relaxed its grip on the pallet with the same slow relief as the growing smug look on his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, impudent and inflammatory.

“Yeah. Give me the candy bar.”

“Oh, I will,” Bucky grinned. He stood up with the kind of confident menace that had sold many an action movie ticket.

“Oh my god, turn that off!” you yelped, poised to run. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Sand,” he said. You bit your lip as he continued, “I can use it to shore up-- Never mind.”

Bucky’s gaze was intent as he started walking in your direction. It was the same kind of focus he used to defend your lives, with only difference being the impudent light in his eyes. You backed away (never turn your back on a predator) as swiftly as you could, heart pounding in your delighted chest.

Seconds later you realize he’d herded you against a dividing wall and he was still advancing. It was absurd, sexy as hell, and the aforementioned lighter fluid had completely replaced your blood volume. One touch and you’d be aflame. 

Bucky didn’t touch you.

He stopped mere breaths away, leaning his metal forearm on the wall. Bucky brought the half-wrapped candy bar up where you could see it and then ripped away the wrapping with his teeth, his eyes glittering with challenge. Holding your gaze, he brought it to your mouth.

You were breathing so heavily your breasts grazed his chest, sparking brushfires each time. Still, this was a contest of sorts, and you had precious few chances to go toe to toe with this man. You waited until the heat of your mouth smeared the chocolate on your lower lip, and only then did you move--shoving his hand to the side and arching up to kiss him.

His groan ignited something in both of you. He pulled you close with a rough hand at your thigh, curving your leg around him and taking charge of the kiss. It was exhilarating, full of the heat of something long-desired. You grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, dug your fingernails into his hair, your other hand skating over the bare metal of his arm.

Suddenly he pushed back on the wall behind you with enough force to shake the cinderblocks, eyes wild, hands at the hem of his tank top. You nodded, scraping your elbows in your haste to strip off your clothes. It took just seconds before you were on each other again, Bucky half carrying you to the corner of the warehouse where you’d piled up your bedding. He was already pumping his fingers in and out, sucking a brutal kiss on your neck even as he knelt on the pile of ragged quilts.

“You are so fucking strong-- yes, like that,” you gasped out with your eyes screwed so tightly you saw a spray of sparks. The white-hot pleasure practically rang in your ears, and then he was there, splitting you apart and putting you back together, with the taste of him healing the gaps.

“You smell just like every morning I wanted to do this,” Bucky growled into your skin. The pinpoint pain of his fingertips digging into your hip was so real, so him that you were speechless. All you could do was drag your lips across every inch you could reach, arching your back to drive the two of you toward the wreckage of your former selves.

When release came it was a second nuclear event, him panting into the join of your neck and shoulder, your hands buried in his hair.

now

There is a luxury to darkness and patience, one you never would have guessed at in the Time Before.

Bucky doesn’t have to see the ecstasy on your face to know his expert caresses are sending you skyward. You don’t have to watch him throw his head back to know he’s about to come apart inside you.

He’s seen the silhouette of your body backlit by the sunset as you ride him.

You’ve watched the lethargy of pleasure-bought peace lift months of his guilt.

Things will never go back to the way they used to be, but just as you’ve learned to navigate the chaos of the current world, you’ve also learned the comfort of being truly known.

Tomorrow, Bucky will head up the mountain to build one piece of a larger device various Avengers have been constructing across the world. Stark had called it a cosmic smoke signal, a last-ditch effort to call for rescue. After all this time, you’re not sure your heart is in it anymore. It’s engaged elsewhere; you haven’t just learned to adapt, you’ve learned to thrive with Bucky at your side.

Still, the others are counting on the two of you, and it’s all about balance. Whether the next mission is a fiery trip to the stars or the steady puff of a hand-built cookstove, you’re ready for what comes next.

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.