#i know it’s just not really the same for them
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♡ when you’re so wet that rafe keeps slipping out..
warnings: making out, heavy petting, dry humping (not really, it’s pretty messy), finger sucking, cockwarming (?), unprotected sex, praise, teasing, rafe being super pussy drunk, belly bulge, size kink, biting, slight dacryphilia
“fuck, look at those hips..” rafe pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two as he dragged you up and down his lap, his large palms enveloping the soft globes of your ass. with shaky hands, you held onto his shoulders as you rocked on top of him, your panties drenched with your arousal. “need’ you, ray..” you whimpered, “please.” rafe pressed a trail of sloppy kisses across your collarbone, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.
he navigated your body like it was the back of his hand, his skillful touch turning you into putty. rafe could feel your heat through his boxers, the soaked fabric making him groan as his hardened cock strained against the material. “i’ll give it you, baby, don’t worry,” he landed a harsh smack to your ass, ripping a yelp from your lips, “wet those fingers for me.” rafe could only imagine how slippery your cunt would feel swallowing him whole, your slick alone already making you glide easily on top of the layers separating you two from full penetration.
giggling softly, rafe watched as your hand disappeared underneath the waistband of your panties, his breath hitching once you held up your fingers, a pool of your sticky succulence glistening underneath the dim light. knowing that he was the one to make you like this made him twitch with need, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he brought your digits to his mouth. with a baited breath, you gasped softly when he took your juices on his tongue, the man in front of you moaning at the taste.
no matter how many times rafe found his head between your thighs, he could never get used to how intoxicating you were, all of his senses and primal instincts honing in on fucking you stupid. without wasting another second, rafe was quick to take himself out of his boxers, a hiss leaving his lips as his length smacked against your tummy. peeling back the lace material of your underwear, he slid them down your legs until he caught sight of the absolute mess between your thighs.
laying you down on your back, rafe brought your knees up to your chest, using one hand to press on your lower abdomen and the other to guide himself between your folds. he was so hard, he had to use his thumb to keep the tip of his cock down so he could enter your needy cunt. he marveled at the size difference, the head of his length stopping just below your belly button. “fuck, i’m gonna wreck you..” he trailed off, toying with your clit before slipping inside, filling you up inch by inch until you were crying out in both pleasure and pain.
with the hand that he had on your stomach, he guided your own over the budge in your tummy, your eyes widening slightly as he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. “you feel that? ‘feel the way my cock fills you up to the fucking brim?” your eyes rolled back at the same time you whined out a ‘f-fuck, yes!’ into your palm. your walls stretched deliciously around the the welcomed intrusion that was his length, your pussy clenching around him for all that he had. the sounds falling from your lips were nothing short of pornographic, the moans and choked sobs only pushing rafe closer to the edge.
he sped up until his skin was slapping against your own, your back arching off of the bed when he slipped out and stroked your clit with the underside of his cock. you shrieked at the sensation, your legs trembling in sensitivity. “too much..” you shook your head, bringing your legs down to wrap around his waist instead. rafe groaned, your slick dripping down his length as he tapped your glossy folds. “you’re so fucking wet, i’m slipping right out,” he grunted, “this is what i do to you, ‘pretty girl?” he leaned down, nipping the sensitive part of your neck.
he kept himself nestled inside of you for a few moments, letting you revel in being so utterly full. you gave him an approving hum, your nails digging into his skin as he bit you softly across your collarbone. starting up his thrusts again, he slipped out as soon as he picked up the pace, the action making him curse under his breath. your eyes watered in frustration, your bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth. rafe saw your tears, the sight shooting straight to his cock. he loved seeing how delirious he made you, his chest filling up with pride as you looked up at him with that fucked-out gaze.
soon after he continued, your high was hitting you in intense waves, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping in two as rafe watched your eyebrows knit together, the added mess between your thighs only making his hips stutter with his own climax painting your walls. “rafe!” you screamed in his ear, his thumb slipping between your lips for you to bite down on while he twitched and convulsed inside of you. a shiver ran down his back as he caged you tightly between his arms, his seed spilling out of you as you both went through the aftershocks of your orgasms.
once you were okay, rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, stroking the side of your face before rolling over to your side. “what’s your ring size?” he sighed, pulling you against his chest. you laughed softly, slightly confused at the words that left his mouth. “why?” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. “are you kidding me? i need to lock this pussy down. like tonight.”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#obx x you#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
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cw: lowk red flag caleb lol, virginity loss
Caleb is pissed when you get asked out for the first time. He had deliberately warned everyone in both of your social circles to stay away from you. Not without threats of violence or death, either. So yeah, he’s pissed as fuck when you tell him. Did he have to burn the whole world down merely to keep you all to himself? To protect you from perverts and creeps?
But, unfortunate and naive, you were so damn excited for this date. He couldn’t spoil your mood. Not when you asked him which dress to wear—both of them too short for his liking—and certainly not when you asked him to zip up the back for you.
There was just something about how you looked, all dolled up and cute to see someone who wasn’t him. He can already barely control himself around you; even the thought of another man having access to you like this makes him utterly sick. “It’s just not a good idea. All guys want the same thing.”
“You’re a guy aren’t you, Caleb? So what, are you telling me you’re like that too? Hmm?” He wants to wipe the playful smile off your face. You just think everything’s some fucking game.
“He’s gonna want to kiss you. Touch you. Fuck you. Have you ever been fucked? Huh, pipsqueak?”
He thinks he went too far then, notes the way your eyes widen and lips slightly part. You shake your head, but he already knows. He knows everything about you. So when you ask if he can help you, give you some advice, he knows exactly how he will.
“So naive, let me just show you.” He smashes his lips against yours. The force would’ve sent you falling backwards had he not steadied you with his hand on the small of your back.
“This is how to kiss…” he mutters it into your mouth, not caring that your teeth are hitting each other.
“And this…” he lifts your skirt just enough so that he can pull your panties to the side and slide his fingers along your puffy folds. “This is how it feels to be fingered.”
“Ah—Caleb!” You squeal when he fully plunges his finger in deeper than your own fingers ever could. He adds another, and soon the room is filled with your moans and the lewd squelch of his fingers thrusting in and out of your soaked pussy.
His lips are back on yours, and this time his tongue is shoved inside your mouth, claiming it. He goes faster when he feels your walls clench around him, and lets you grip his biceps while you come around his fingers and leave behind crescent shaped indents on his arms.
He nearly throws you on the bed, eager to yank off your underwear and free himself from his own boxers, wasting no time in aligning his tip to your still sensitive cunt.
“This is how to take it like a good fucking girl.” You try your best to relax, to be so good for him as he buries himself into you. He lets you get used to his size, going slow. Not moving until you practically beg him to, then there’s no going back. He’s brutally snapping his hips against yours and watching your tits bounce through your dress.
“Already gonna come on my cock? You really are inexperienced. Can’t even control yourself. Go on then. Fucking. Come.” With two last jerks of his hips, your climax washes over you and he tries so fucking hard to delay his own orgasm. He begins to pull out but your legs lock him in place. He cums on the spot—still inside you.
“Don’t care that I ruined your dress? How you gonna go on your date now, baby?”
“Hm. Guess I have to cancel,” you say, faux disappointment coating your words.
He pauses. “There was no date.”
“There was no date.” You confirm, wearing that same stupid grin from before. Luckily your schedule is free, because he has a hell of a punishment waiting for you after that.
#has this been done yet#wrote this on a whim#not proofread 💔#divider by cafekitsune#caleb smut#caleb#love and deepspace fic#lads fic#caleb x reader#love and deepspace caleb#caleb fic#lads x reader#lnds caleb smut#lads caleb smut#lnds smut#l&ds smut#love and deepspace smut#lads smut#caleb x mc#caleb love and deepspace#caleb x you#lnds caleb#lnds caleb x reader#lads caleb#xia yizhou x reader#xia yizhou#xia yizhou smut#.。.:*✧ i be writing#lnds fic#caleb lnds
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This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved
(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)
Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!
He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.
He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.
At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)
The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.
The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.
Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.
Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D
I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.
#coffeepaintart#jonathan sims#jon sims#tma#the magnus archives#scopophobia#scopophobia tw#tw scopophobia#the archivist#tma fanart#tma art#if i need to tag any other tws or cws lmk
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9:52 Pavellan -- (please don't tag/comment with your inquisitor, thanks)
#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#pavellan#von lavellan#dorian pavus#now von i know you hate dorians long hair but what if he kept it with a likkle bun? What then Von?#I unno it's myre's call really XP#I just wanted to see if I could make the hair a lil more appealing to ME (we are the same Von)#you can also tell this was one of the first things i drew before game drop bc i have no idea what i was doing with dorian's robes XP#the important thing is them boys going 10 years strong > w<
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clouds in my coffee
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joe burrow x fem!reader
summary: everyone says joe is cocky, arrogant, self-centered… why do you keep letting him take you home?
warnings: explicit sexual content 18+, MDNI. mentions of alcohol/drinking.
word count: 2.2k. (much like general grievous, this fic was shorter than i expected.)
note: omg it’s been a while since i posted a joe fic… but i’m so back. i miss you guys and love you ♥️
every head in the building turned to watch joe burrow stroll through the door. you’d seen it happen many times, any time you wound up at the same event he was at, his natural gravitational pull drew all eyes and all attention.
he waded through the bodies with an effortless confidence, his aura hung heavy over the room like a fresh blanket of fog rolling in. his sunglasses sat low on the bridge of his nose and you could’ve sworn you saw him eyeing himself in one of the windows he passed - but could you blame him?
any man who looked that good, had that physique, that confidence… joe deserved to feel good about himself. the stats didn’t lie, despite the difficult seasons he’d unfortunately endured the past few years, he was the best in the league. nobody could really argue that he wasn’t, and anyone who did spewed baseless nonsense in defense of their own sub-par quarterback.
his friends flanked his sides as he continued to roam farther into the party, they were all poised just like joe, their heads were held high.
you knew all the girls here dreamt of being his partner, those who surrounded him at every gathering hung on to his every word… but you also had the strange satisfaction of knowing that at every shared event you both attended, he’d end up taking you home.
despite his big reputation, you liked joe. there was just something about him that drew you in.
at some point in the night he’d make his way over to you and buy you a drink, or lean in and whisper in your ear seductively - and sometimes he didn’t have to say a word to you. he’d glance over his shoulder toward the door and you would follow him wordlessly out to his car.
this time would be no different, but you intended to play coy. you sat alone at the bar, your presence innocuous as the party raged on around you. you were hyper-aware that joe had already seen you, and you could feel his gaze burning into your back as your body was faced in the opposite direction.
you ordered a rum and coke, something fairly light, and you didn’t plan on finishing it. you took a few sips as you listened to the chatter of conversations around you, and you took out your phone to lazily check your notifications.
the girl next to you droned on to her friend about the boy problems she was having and you forced back a giggle as you saw her friend roll her eyes for what seemed like the fiftieth time. you scrolled through your text notifications and your instagram feed as you waited for joe to approach you, just like you knew he would.
after waiting for what felt like forever, you turned your head to see if you could find joe somewhere in the crowd, and you did. he sat at a round table with his friends. a few girls sat close to them, but they weren’t necessarily on top of the group. as if he could feel you looking, joe’s eyes met yours and he raised an eyebrow playfully. you jokingly rolled your eyes at him before turning back to your phone and taking a sip of your drink.
seconds later you could feel his dominating aura behind you, and the girls next to you suddenly went quiet. joe picked up your drink and took a swig, slightly grimacing at the rum as it burned his throat.
you bit back a laugh as you eyed him up and down. “you look good,” you told him, a careful attempt at complimenting him without stroking his ego. “mhm,” he agreed, leaning into you, “so do you.”
the girls next to you were now completely enthralled with the scene playing out before them, their eyes wide with bewilderment. joe’s breath fanned over your face as he continued to lean in, all the way down until his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. “wanna leave?” he teased, his teeth grazing over your earlobe.
“what if i don’t wanna go with you tonight?” you countered, much to his surprise. he pulled back, wide eyes searching yours as he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “you… don’t want to come with me?” he asked, pointing back and forth between the two of you. you giggled at him before hopping off your stool and grabbing your things. you extended your hand toward his and he took it, eyeing you up and down.
“take me home, hot-shot,” you winked.
he didn’t need any further coercing. joe led you out of the crowded party and immediately to his car, opening the door for you so you could slide in just as you had many times before.
you weren’t sure what spurred it, what always kept you naturally drawn to each other like this — but you weren’t complaining. he quickly backed the car out and pulled into the road, heading straight for his house.
his hand found purchase on your thigh, his long calloused fingers squeezing over the flesh as his other hand white-knuckled the steering wheel. had your attempt at a joke pissed him off? you weren’t sure.
you kept your eyes trained on the road as your breathing started to quicken, all due to joe’s hand slowly sliding up your leg and closer to your throbbing core. you gasped as you approached a red light and joe finally turned his gaze toward you, the apples of his cheeks burning red as he dipped his fingers into your panties and scooped up some of your wetness before he traced the calloused pads over your clit.
that was why he was gripping the steering wheel so hard… it wasn’t that he was angry, he was just ridiculously horny. maybe it had been the alcohol he consumed, maybe it was knowing he’d get to take you home and fuck you silly… maybe it was all that wrapped up together.
the light turned green but joe didn’t notice, his focus was on the soft gasps he was pulling from your mouth as his fingertips continued to work over your sensitive nub. you’d begun to spread your legs wider for him, arching your back against the seat as he quickly worked you up to your high.
but then, a car behind you beeped their horn rapidly. joe pulled his fingers from your heat and gripped the wheel again, his foot pressing down on the gas hard to accelerate the car. you weren’t far from his house, and you silently pleaded not to hit any more red lights, you needed him bad.
joe continued to speed all the way home and quickly whipped his car into the driveway, barely putting it in park before he was jumping out and running over to your side and opening your door. you stepped out too, walking the short distance to the stairs and following him up.
joe quickly unlocked the door and pulled you inside, his hands finding your hips immediately as he pushed your back against the wall in the entryway. he leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth as his knee slipped between your legs. he moved it up, slightly bumping it against your clit and you whined into his mouth. he pulled back from you and smirked at your already disheveled looks.
you gave him a wide-eyed gaze and he laughed before gesturing down the hallway. “you know where my room is, go ahead. i’ll be there in a sec.”
you furrowed your brow at him before following his command and heading to his room. once inside you slipped off your shoes before sitting gingerly on the edge of his bed, your hands resting on your knees.
he strolled in moments later and your mouth gaped open as you noticed he was already shirtless. “not in the mood for games tonight, i take it?” you asked him, looking him up and down.
“i’m not,” he shrugged, walking over and closing the distance between you. his hands reached around you until the found the zipper of your dress and he pulled it down as far as he could while you were sitting.
you stood from the bed and shrugged it off unceremoniously — you’d been with joe too many times to care about something so trivial. your clothes would end up on the floor each time anyway, so who cared about looking sexy while taking them off?
joe smirked at you and looked you up and down again, appreciating the navy blue lingerie set you had worn underneath your dress.
he slid his finger under the strap of your bra, pulling it forward and letting it go so that it smacked back against your shoulder with a loud pop. “this one’s pretty, baby,” he teased, walking you backwards until your body met the bed again, “too bad it won’t be on much longer.”
joe lifted you and sat you on top of the bed before reconnecting his lips to yours. his hands skillfully undid the clasp of your bra and he tossed it aside before attacking the column of your neck and shoulders with kisses and nips. when his lips finally wrapped around one of your pert nipples your body shuddered, and he laughed.
he used his thumb and forefinger to roll and pinch the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth, leaving you a whiny mess already beneath his touch. your hands tangled into his hair and you pull him off your breast with a loud pop to look him directly in the eyes.
“i’m not in the mood for games either, okay?” you challenged, a weak attempt at letting him know you meant business. he let out another low laugh. you could see he was already rock hard, it was evident by the very large tent in his pants, and you could feel how sticky wet you were with every shift of your panties against your core.
joe knew you wanted it and you were ready, the ball was in his court now. he pulled away from you to shuck off his pants and boxers and you used the opportunity to move up toward the pillows, encasing yourself with his scent as you waited for him to please you.
he crawled on top of you and pressed soft kisses to your stomach as he slid your panties down your legs, adding them to the pile of clothing that was accumulating on his bedroom floor. before he could continue to press any more kisses to your body you grabbed him, hauling him up toward you and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“no games, please. i need you, i need this. fuck me,” you pleaded… and who would he be to deny you of that? he pressed your legs to your chest and held them there with one arm as his other hand gripped his cock, pumping it a few times before slowly sliding into you. the pleasure was immediate, the feeling of being stuffed full took over your senses as joe pushed all the way into you and rested there.
you barely waited any time before you were scratching your nails down his forearm, signaling for him to move. he started with slow shallow thrusts and you let a few soft moans fall from your lips. joe let go of your legs so you could spread wider for him and pressed his chest to yours.
his hands were now holding a bruising grip on your hips and he dug his fingers into your skin as he began to thrust harder. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and laboured breathing, and soft moans that fell from both of your lips.
joe’s fingers skillfully found your clit again and he began rubbing tight circles into you. your climax was approaching fast but you didn’t care, you knew you’d end up going a few more rounds before the night was over, that’s how it always worked.
joe knew the ins-and-outs of the exchange too, so when you warned him you were close and he said he was too, you knew he wouldn’t bother pulling out to cum. he knew very well that you were on birth control, he’d been in this situation with you far too many times to count.
he continued pistoning his hips into yours and the force kept driving you up the bed, so much so that you had to press a hand to the headboard to keep your head from smacking against it. joe was determined to get you both there quickly and with one more particularly hard thrust you were knocked over the edge, enveloped into toe curling pleasure.
you took deep breaths as joe worked you through it, he came just as you did. both of you were sweaty and needed a moment to catch your breath. he rolled off you quickly and gathered all of your clothes, throwing them into a bin next to his dresser.
you sat up and watched as he trudged toward the door, most likely headed to get some water. you admired your lovely partner’s ass and the way his back muscles rippled as he reached out for the door handle.
“babe?” you called, waiting for his response. your boyfriend then turned to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he answered. “yeah?” he said, laughing as he saw you waddling toward the bathroom.
“next time we do this role-play shit, i’m picking you up from the bar,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows at him.
he laughs too, then answers. “better not ever tell me you aren’t coming home with me again, then.”
photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.
taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @slimshiesty @yelenasbraid
#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#nfl#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow smut#joe burrow imagines#joe burrow fic#joeburrow#joe burrow fanfiction#joey burrow#joey b#joe burrow fanfics#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow x reader smut#joe burrow x yn#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x reader fanfic#smut#angst#fluff
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boss - January 24 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 287
“Ugh, and he’s so fit,” Claire, one of Regulus’s coworkers, whispered to her friend as they all ate lunch in the brightly-lit breakroom. “Like, talk about the whole package, you know? Smart, attractive, a leader…”
From his spot by himself at a different table, Regulus snorted.
Immediately, Claire sent him an icy glare. “What?”
“You know you don’t have to worship him just because he’s the boss, right?” he said flatly. “He’s not that special. Actually, he’s rather annoying and obnoxious. And really not that attractive, e-”
But he was cut off by Claire’s squeak as her eyes grew wide and she pointed behind him.
“Hello, Mister Black.”
Regulus didn’t have to turn to know who had entered the room. “Hello, Mister Potter,” he said silkily, expression blank.
“Can you come with me, please?” the same deep, calm voice asked. Claire and her friend both gasped, hands on their hearts.
Sighing, Regulus collected his things and turned to follow the tall, curly-haired, bespectacled man from the room to his office. His heart was racing, but he betrayed nothing until the door was closed behind them and James turned to face him. Then, a huge smirk appeared on his face. “Are you angry at me, then, Mister Potter?”
James, grinning, crowded him against the wall, their chests pressing together, making Regulus’s entire body grow warm. “Love. I can take ‘annoying’ and ‘obnoxious’ and ‘not special.’ But ‘not that attractive?’ You wound me.”
Regulus just grinned, leaning forward to nip at James’s jawline and whisper in his ear. “Hm. How on earth will I make it up to you, then?”
And with that, he crashed their lips together, already thinking of a few ways he could do just that.
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#marauders fandom#fanfic#harry potter marauders#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders harry potter#the marauders era#marauder era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#sirius black#marauders fanfic#james potter x regulus black#james and regulus#james potter#james x regulus#regulus x james#regulus and james#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james loves regulus#regulus deserved better#regulus black x james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#starchaser#sunseeker
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the memory of your lips | Spencer Reid
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Flangst. Summary: At the end of a great date, you have to deal with the realities of dating a BAU agent. Content: Mentions of alcohol, reader is tipsy and flirty and LOVESICK, Spencer is a gentleman, kisses, no use of y/n, reader is called angel. I had s3 or 4 Spencer in mind when I was writing, but it works for any season. Word count: 1.4k A/N: Here’s the fic for the Lovesick by Laufey (listen to it right here, PLEASE I BEG!!!) poll I did a while back. I know I originally planned for it to have smut, but I opted out because it didn’t feel right with the tone??? Anyways, this was just really fun to write, and I hope you enjoy!
Three dates are an embarrassingly short amount of time to have fallen in love with someone, but in your defense, you have not encountered anyone quite like Spencer Reid in all your years of dating.
Never have you met a man so intensely focused and attentive, so intelligent without any hint of pretense. His arrogance is founded, but he never used his genius to make you feel less; instead, he’s committed everything you’ve told him to memory, from your favorite book to the throwaway comment you made about liking a specific shade of lipstick. Two dates and he’s already memorized you like a poem. It’s exhilarating.
This third date had been the one to seal the deal.
Sure, the anxiety is still there, and it might have caused you to have one too many glasses of wine over dinner, but still. Everything had gone so beautifully. A stroll around the art gallery where Spencer had eagerly shared the history behind the paintings. When you’d paused at a particular hallway, he stood right by a window and was hit just so by the golden afternoon sun that his eyes turned to the color of moss, you could have sworn you’ve forgotten the ability to breathe. You’re convinced you were the walking equivalent to the heart eyes emoji at that point, staring up at him with a starry gaze, all throughout the following dinner at an intimate restaurant, where you allowed yourself to indulge in some wine.
Not that you needed it. At that point, you felt so relaxed and at ease with him that you were afraid you might float away. The alcohol only served to heighten the giddiness, casting the world in soft hues of sparkling gold. Like Spencer’s eyes. Which reminds you—
“You’ve the prettiest eyes,” You’re giggling as he walks you to your door, a lean arm firmly wrapped around your waist to steady you. Head angled up, all of your attention is on him while you walk up the stairs, which isn’t helping your stumbling gait in the slightest.
Despite his attempts to fight it, a small smile pulls at his lips. He’s obviously trying to seem stern, but his eyes look upon you with fondness. “I should have cut you off sooner.”
“Mhm, no, I wouldn’t have let you.”
“You’re gonna feel this tomorrow,” he warns as he stops at your doorstep, “Keys.”
You fumble through your purse, quickly locating them and pressing the keys into his palm. He slots it easily into the lock, and turns.
He hesitates. Your hands shake as you wait.
“Can I trust you to make it to your bed in one piece?” he murmurs, fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
“Probably not. You might need to help me out,” you whisper, even though you’re not really that drunk. It’s a (very thinly veiled) attempt to get him inside your apartment, in your bed. You’re not sure where you got the confidence.
But it’s Spencer, the sweet man who frequents the same bookshop in which you also spend a lot of time. The same man who’d been so shy about making a move that he decided to buy you a book and slip his number into the pages.
So there’s no pressure, he had scrawled in messy, rushed letters. Embarrassingly, the note is in your wallet, kept as a memento.
It’s him, and the entire date has been a series of signs that simply validated the small (massive) crush you’ve had on him. You don’t want it to end yet. Or ever, really. If he’d let you keep him forever.
Ever the gentleman, he nods and guides you inside. You stumble onto your couch with a low groan, an arm flung over your eyes as the harsh overhead light flickers open. Quick, shuffling footsteps, and then the couch dips beside you.
“Here, have some water.”
You accept the glass with a lopsided smile. The way his eyes linger on you would be enough to make you melt when you’re sober, but right now, with alcohol coursing through your veins, it’s downright cruel. “Your eyes are so pretty.”
“You’ve mentioned that already,” he says, urging you to drink, “Thank you. You have very beautiful eyes too.”
Once the glass is empty, he sets it on your coffee table and kneels down. With gentle hands, he eases the heels off of your feet, fingers pressing into the ankles carefully.
“Come on,” he helps you to your feet, and you all but become deadweight in his arms as he walks with you to your bedroom.
Spurned mainly by alcohol, you lift yourself to your tiptoes for a kiss. His surprise makes him pause, but he kisses you back gently, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. It makes you sigh, this tender way he likes to kiss, cradling your face as though it’s the most important thing he’s ever held. When your tongue sweeps across his lower lip, he pulls back.
“What—”
“You’re drunk,” his lips move to your forehead, “You need to sleep.”
“But Spence…” it’s childish to whine when he denies you, but it’s the only thing your dejected, alcohol-addled brain is capable of doing.
He chuckles, slowly walking you backwards onto your bed. “No, angel, it wouldn’t sit right with me.”
“I’m giving you all my consent right now.” you pout as he hands you a disposable towel from your bedside table. With a huff, you set on wiping away your makeup as he rummages through your drawers for pajamas. He finds some shorts and an old tshirt, and helps you out of your dress, shaking his head as you try (and fail) to seduce him into sleeping with you.
“Shouldn’t have had that last glass if this was how you wanted the night to end.” he says, a teasing smile on his lips.
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?”
He kisses your temple as a response, and gently pushes you to lay down. Chuckling, he sits on the edge of your bed, a hand on your knee. “I just don’t want you to be inebriated if we’re going to be physically intimate. Especially not the first time.”
You pout, “Boo, you’re too sweet for your own good.” It earns you a laugh from him, and it’s enough to wipe the pout off your lips, “Will you at least sleep over?”
He seems to consider it, running his hand up and down your thigh. However, it is as though the universe is conspiring against you, and his phone rings. You watch as his brows furrowed in concern as he checks whatever message he’s received. “I have to go in, we have a case.”
Your heart drops. The pout returns, “It’s Friday night.”
“I know, angel.” he leans forward and kisses your forehead again, almost in apology, “I’m sorry, I did tell you I don’t work traditional hours.”
Your hands close around his shirt and you pull him down. He surrenders to your eagerness this time, kissing you deeply, hands tangled in your hair, before he stops, breathing ragged. “I’ll make it up to you when I return, I promise.” he kisses you again, languidly, savoring the last few moments before he has to leave.
You don’t have his eidetic memory, but you memorize the feeling of his lips all the same. “Stay safe,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, feeling oddly sobered up now that the reality of him leaving you is more present, “Text me when you can.”
“I will, angel.” he gives you one last kiss on your forehead before he stands up, “Drink lots of water tomorrow, okay? I’ll see you soon.”
You nod, and stare at his retreating back with a sad smile, blinking away the tears when you hear your apartment door click into place, signaling his departure. You try to tell yourself you’re being silly. It’s been three dates and you’re already acting so clingy. You chalk it up to the alcohol, twisting your feelings. Earlier, it had made the world seem effervescent, but now that he’s left, it only exacerbates your loneliness.
Is this how it’s going to be when you date him? He’d laid it out quite clearly during your conversations, that sometimes they get pressing cases that require them to drop everything else. You aren’t sure you’re prepared to have dates be interrupted with one phone call. Morning afters without him beside you. With a sigh, you sink into bed, eyes closed, and only the memory of his lips to tide you through the night.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#dr spencer reid#mgg#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fic
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I’M UP HATING POP PSYCHOLOGY. MEMEME
to be more serious: i have empathy for the urge to compartmentalize like this. genuinely, i do— for some, processing trauma feels easier when there are ready-made labels for the things/people that hurt them. i so deeply understand the urge to file away overwhelming chaos; to make sense of the cruel and senseless; to be comforted by pop psych “gotcha” moments and cling to categorizations. i know what it feels like to try to neatly reorganize broken self-concepts and horrifying histories. i’ve dealt with this exact issue myself.
that being said… unfortunately, it just. doesn’t. work.
automatically slapping warning labels on ASPD, NPD, BPD, etc is simply not fair nor accurate. the nuances shouldn’t be ignored: does the concept that mental health matters come with conditions? does furthering the stigma really empower victims, or does it drive offenders away from self-awareness and recovery? does it really help to boil human behavior down to lists and labels, or does it just skew our perceptions of ourselves and others even further? is it productive to focus on condensing things, or should we ultimately focus on understanding the complexities that make generalization ultimately impossible?
this is NOT to say that ANYONE has to entertain or forgive abusive people. not at ALL. i’m also not saying those who don’t care to improve should be forgiven and/or granted the opportunity to keep treating others poorly. there is a stark a difference between acknowledging nuance and normalizing/excusing abuse— you can express pain without making harmful blanket statements. in fact, it’s straight up ignorant to disregard those who are working their asses off in recovery. these disorders can be uniquely challenging to live with, and stigma makes everything 10x worse, especially when trauma, defensiveness, and self-hatred are inseparable from disordered beliefs/behaviors. you have EVERY right to cut off shitty individuals and despise them and feel rage and do whatever you need to do to heal— at the same time, people who present in malignant ways won’t get any better if they’re universally met with hostility. after all, 99% of the time, recovery seems like a far better outcome than total shunning. wouldn’t it be so much better if these people had safe spaces in which they could to learn to never abuse other humans again, and to develop healthier self-concepts?
(i say this as someone who’s been abused horribly countless times by people who present like this, developed BPD as a result, and gone through wild amounts of intensive therapy. i no longer meet the criteria for BPD.)
(of course, there are some acts that are UNFORGIVABLE. those require a… unique approach. i don’t feel qualified to go into that territory because personal experiences have left me way too biased; just know that i don’t mean to erase that line.)
also, re: MBTI/love language/brain development/brain gendering/dark empathy/blah blah blah: the same principle applies. individuals’ psychological makeups and backgrounds are too complex to accurately box in. that is the nature of the human condition, and even though it gets overwhelming, at the end of the day, it’s beautiful! there is no linear pathway for anything, and that is a GOOD thing! at best, all of those words can provide useful loose blueprints for furthering introspection; at worst, they create interpersonal divides that are either based on faulty assumptions or entirely non-existent.
we don’t have to fit into boxes to find community. it’s fine to use things like MBTI and love languages as cute, unweighted bonding tools, BUT in order to truly understand each other’s wants, needs, traits, and issues, we simply need to COMMUNICATE. no matter how isolated we feel in our struggles, WE ARE NOT ALONE. we are all mosaics of the experiences that have shaped us, and we each deserve to be understood as works of art, not as sums of our most basic parts.
tl;dr pop psychology egregiously simplifies human behavior and it is Not helpful as it seems
who up hating pop psychology
#pop psychology#cluster b#bpd thoughts#npd#aspd#mbti#trauma#myth of 25#mental heath awareness#mental health matters#abuse survivor
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omg can you write a blurb where peter and the reader are in the stage of their relationship where they can't keep their hands of each other and keep leaving hickeys on each other and sexiling their roommates ? love your stuff <3
my place or yours?
ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist
w/c: 793
warnings: 18+!, smut (p in v), language
a/n: hehe one of my fave tropes, when everyone's fed up because they can't get enough of each other :D hope you enjoy! and friendly reminder to join my new taglist it's dead y'all lmao
you move your hips against peter's, rubbing yourself against the growing bulge in his sweatpants. you both make noises of content, lips and tongues intertwined. peter helps you take off your shirt and works on your bra next. you smile coyly from above him as his hands find your chest.
"when's harry gonna be back?"
peter's hands massage your breasts, eyes glazed over with lust.
"uh, i don't know... or care."
he leaves a trail of kisses going down between your breasts. you giggle and push his head back playfully.
"but what if he walks in again?"
"don't worry about it, i put a sock on the doorknob... just in case."
you ruffle peter's hair, dipping your head down so your faces are just inches apart.
"you're so extra, pete. you could've just texted him."
"i know, but i really wanted to piss him off this time."
"i feel kind of bad, though. we've been sexiling him a lot lately."
peter moves his hands down to your hips, guiding you forward so your clothed center presses against him. he gives you a cheeky smile.
"so next time we'll go to your dorm and sexile betty."
you scoff at peter and capture his lips in a kiss. he bucks his hips up, into you, needing you. you need him just as bad.
you can't seem to get enough of each other recently, so much so that you'll go at it anytime and anywhere. your friends aren't too happy about it. they either get kicked out of the room or banned from entering.
you and peter finish undressing each other, fast but somehow still not fast enough. in one swift motion peter flips you over and grabs your leg, lifting it up to his shoulder. his dark eyes lock with yours. you nod repeatedly, desperately. he pushes into you with ease, a moan instantly falling from his lips.
"fuck, baby."
you hum happily. peter keeps his hips still for a moment, lets himself fill you up and feel you wrapped around him. he takes the opportunity to connect your lips once again in a slow kiss. you smile into the kiss and curl your other leg around peter's waist, encouraging him to move. he pulls out of you just enough so he can thrust back in.
peter begins to find a rhythm as his cock thrusts into you again and again. he can tell it's one you like by the way you grab at his shoulders and let out soft moans. he holds your leg in place on his shoulder so he keeps hitting the right spot, at the right angle. you can feel yourself drip between your thighs from how bad you'd wanted him and how good he's fucking you.
"pete... feels so good, baby."
neither of you are making any effort to be quiet. peter presses his forehead to yours, hips moving at the same perfect pace. you take his face in either of your hands. you close your eyes and focus on the pleasure. peter brings a hand down to rub your clit, earning a gasp from you at the sudden intensified feeling. he chuckles at your reaction.
"you like that?"
"mm, you know i do."
"wanted to hear you say it anyway."
you groan at peter's cockiness, but god does it turn you on.
"of course you did."
peter continues stroking in and out of you as his middle and ring fingers circle your clit. you crane your neck so you can kiss across peter's jaw, his chin, then back to his lips, his tussled hair tickling your forehead. you give him a look, the look with the eyes that gets him every time.
"harder."
peter brings your other leg up to his shoulders, holding them both in place, starting to pound into you. he groans out a fuck. you arch your back and reach up, hands still cupping his cheeks. you're breathless and he's panting. you want more and more, as much of him as you can take, even more than that.
"oh my god, y/n. shit, baby."
"needed you so bad, pete."
"i’m all yours."
peter takes one of your hands and kisses your palm. you squeeze your intertwined hands, eyes fluttering closed in pure bliss.
the moment is interrupted when you two hear harry call from outside.
"again, parker? really?"
he bangs on the door for emphasis. peter stifles a laugh, continuing to thrust into you, making you have to stifle a moan.
"hey, man! respect the sock!"
"yeah. you're a real class act, you two."
you wait until harry leaves to join peter in a fit of giggles. you push some damp hair out of his face, scrunching up your nose.
"okay, yeah. my place next time."
tags (join my new taglist!)
@spidermans-gf @sacharinee @thollandsgirl2013 @pettypeety
#peter parker smut#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker imagine#peter parker writing#college!peter parker#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x you#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland writing
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your beloved Fury - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader
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based on this ask.
summary: Cregan meets your beloved Dragon Vermithor for the first time. He is more than scared, he is terrified. Not that he would ever admit that to you.
words: 3.281
warnings: none I think, just a bit fluff
a/n: English is not my first language// Reader is Rhaenyras daughter and described with dark hair // Not proofread// No use of Y/N.
Have fun 🧡.
requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist
Excitedly, you run ahead of him and pull on his hand. Happiness and joy radiate from you, your steps are light, you almost bounce off the ground. Cregan follows you laughing through the gardens of the Red Keep. At the sight of your happy state, his heart beats faster and he can't wipe the smile from his face, even though he would prefer to hide today. Your destination is your dragon, Vermithor. The last few days Cregan found excuses, but today he really couldn't come up with anything.
With wide eyes, you had looked at him. "But My Lord, how can you become my husband in three days without knowing my dragon?"
Cregan had to acept defeat. What could he say against this? That he is terrified to meet your Dragon? Not an option.
When he rode south to keep his word and support the queen, he never expected to fall in love.
Cregan arrived just in time to prevent a riot in King's Landing and to stop the storming of the Dragonpit. It took a few days for Queen Rhaenyra's rule to be secured, but know everything starts to settle down.
The only thing for Cregan to do know was going home to Winterfell. But not without you.
Cregan had just come from a council meeting when he saw you for the first time. Jace had mentioned a twin sister back then, and he knew that all Targaryens are good looking but as your eyes meet, he had to pause in his movement. Gods, you are beautiful.
"You must be Lord Stark." you slightly lowered your head before him. "A hero, I have heard. It is an honor to meet you."
Your voice is like music to his ears, and when you smile at him, his heart skips a beat.
"The honor is entirely... entirely on my side... Princess." he had stuttered. Cregan doesn't know when he last stuttered. He falls in love at that moment.
The gods were on his side, because you apparently feel the same as he did. You asked your mother for her blessing to your betrothal and the queen agreed.
So Cregan and you will marry in three days and after that you will join him on his journey back north. And wherever you go, your dragon Vermithor will follow.
For the last few days, Cregan has been able to avoid getting too close to the dragon. Unfortunately, today he doesn´t find a excuse. The thought of facing the dragon alone brings sweat to his forehead. Northman or not.
Not that he would ever admit that he is afraid. He wants to impress you. And besides, neither you nor your siblings are afraid of dragons. Your little brother Viserys is barely a toddler, but he still treats the fire-breathing monsters like they were puppies. Cregan can be just as brave as the little prince.
Arriving in the castle courtyard, two horses are already ready for you. Cregan hesitates again, watching you mount elegantly.
"Are you ready, My Lord?" you ask and look at him. The sun makes your skin shine, the strong contrast between your light skin and your dark curls, the deep violet of your eyes. Cregan's body begins to tingle. You are a sight for sore eyes. And when you call him my Lord with your beautiful voice, Cregan's heart explodes every time. Your voice is full of affection and love. Cregan can hardly believe his own luck. He enjoys the sight of his future bride for another heartbeat before he nods and also mounts his horse.
You turn your horse and ride off, as the guards prepare to follow you, you address them.
"No need to trouble yourself, Ser. I don't need any guards today."
"But my princess, you cannot ride out alone, it is still too dangerous."
"Don't worry, Ser. I have the honorable Lord Stark by my side." you grin at him and Cregan has to concentrate on not turning as red as a foolish boy.
The guards stay behind, and you ride side by side through King's Landing. When you don't steer your horse towards Rhaenys's Hill, Cregan stops briefly.
"We're not riding to the Dragonpit?"
You shake your head slightly, your dark hair blowing around you. You quickly swapped your Targaryen braids for northern hairstyles. A fact that filled Cregan's heart with warmth.
"Vermithor is too large for the Dragonpit. He lives in the Kingswood."
Cregan has to suppress a sigh. Of course, your dragon is too big for the Dragonpit, what else. With a cramping stomach and sweaty hands, Cregan rides on again. Quickly, you leave the city behind and ride into the forest.
The Lord of Winterfell takes a deep breath and relaxes a little. Now that the loud city is behind you, Cregan realizes once again how much he misses the peace in Winterfell. Not even a week more and he would be on his way home. And you will already be his wife.
"Why are you smiling?" you tiltel your head slightly and look over at him, your horse trotting along the path relaxed, seeming to know exactly where it needs to take you. Cregan didn't even notice that a smile had crept onto his lips.
"I was just thinking that you will very soon be my wife," he replies honestly. Your smile widens, the sparkle in your eyes intensifies, and Cregan thinks you become more beautiful with every passing second.
"I am looking forward to being your wife." you say. Although a slight blush creeps into your cheeks, you hold his gaze. Cregan would most like to lean over and kiss you, if only for the briefest moment. But he would never dishonor a princess. He just has to wait three more days and then he can kiss you as long and as often as you allow him. Cregan can be patient. "But first, you will meet Vermithor." you speed up your horse, excitement radiates from you, but Cregan's fear is stronger. Nevertheless, he speeds up his horse to catch up with you.
He has to swallow before he can speak again. "I thought dragons bonded with riders who resembled them," the young lord recalls from the few lessons he received about dragons long ago.
You slightly furrow your eyebrows. Did Cregan say something stupid? Or did he upset you? But when you respond, there isn't a trace of anger in your voice.
"Why do you think Vermithor is not like me?"
To his own surprise, Cregan has to laugh. "I heard they call Vermithor the bronze fury. And my Lady, please don't be angry with me, but you don't seem like a person who harbors much fury." if Cregan is honest, you are one of the gentlest people he has ever met. In this viper-infested place like King's Landing, you seem to him like a beacon of gentleness and grace.
Now it's you who is laughing, the sound makes Cregan's skin tingle pleasantly. "You have never seen my wrath because I have never been angry with you, my Lord. You should be glad about that."
Cregan's lips curl into a grin. "Should I?" he asks challengingly. He can hardly imagine you ever being truly angry. It doesn't seem to suit you at all. But he knows himself that he shouldn't underestimate your Targaryen temperament.
"I have five younger brothers, My Lord. Don't think that a charming smile and a little teaser could unsettle me. And believe me when I say I can stand my ground very well." you laugh and in the next moment you gallop your horse. Cregan hears you laugh and follows you. Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you find his smile charming.
Its not long before you slower your horse again. You ride slowly into a clearing, looking up into the sky, Cregan follows your gaze. But he only sees blue sky and clouds.
You stop your horse, whistle loudly between your fingers. Then you turn to Cregan and beam at him. He can't help but smile with you. Excitement and anticipation are in your eyes.
"Don't worry. You will like him." your voice is full of love, as if you were talking about your oldest friend. You are indeed talking about your oldest friend. Cregan is captivated by your beauty, losing himself in your radiant eyes. Warmth spreads within him and his heart begins to beat faster. He can hardly wait to take you as his wife. Suddenly, the sun is obscured, a dark shadow falls over you and him. The horses begin to fidget nervously back and forth, and when Cregan looks up again, his heart sinks into his stomach.
He has read stories about the Targaryen dragons, he has watched Vermithor and Silverwing from his window in the Red Keep. Cregan even saw Vermax up close when Jacaerys landed in the courtyard of Winterfell back then.
Nothing could have prepared him for that. The gigantic body of Vermithor completely blocks the sun, the light catches in his bronze scales. His wingspan is gigantic.
As closer the dragon gets, the more uncomfortable Cregan feels. Vermithor lands just a few steps away from you, the entire ground trembles. Cregan's horse rears, the stallion can probably sense Cregan's unease.
Vermithor turns his head towards him, opens his mouth, and reveals a row of teeth, almost as long as sword blades and probably a hundred times sharper. In an instant, he could swallow Cregan along with his horse. It would only take a second, and his flames could turn Cregan into a pile of ash.
He has to swallow, his hands clenching around the reins. Why couldn't it have been a smaller dragon like Vermax being one? Or a hatchling like Morning? No, your soul bonded dragon had to be a damn war dragon.
Cregan has to take a deep breath to calm his heart a little. It beats so loudly that he is already afraid you will hear it. The air smells of smoke, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His body reacts automatically to the danger. His hand wants to reach for the sword on his belt, neverless he manages to prevent the almost reflex.
You don't seem to have noticed his fear at all, have already jumped off your horse and are now approaching your dragon. Valyrian words roll off your tongue with ease, your voice sounds calm. Cregan doesn't understand a word of what you say to Vermithor, but the foreign sound of High Valyrian in your gentle voice sounds like the most beautiful song he has ever heard. Cregan watches closely as you raise your hand and stroke your fingers over the dragon's nose. He snaps his mouth shut, blowing hot air into your face. You giggle, turning to Cregan.
"You can come closer." Again, that sparkle in your eyes. The sun catches in your dark hair, Cregan has to take a deep breath, drinks in your beauty, and feels the fear slowly release its grip on his heart.
In the next moment, Vermithor lifts his head, raises it above you, and pushes his large body closer to you, this time smoke coming from his nostrils. You stretch out and place your hand under the dragon's chin, stroking him as if he were a cat. Fear burns in Cregan's stomach like a metalball, cold sweatbeads forms on his forehead. Nevertheless, he dismounts from the horse. When his feet touch the ground, his stance is not as firm as he would like it to be. Everything in him screams to turn around and run away.
Cregan had thought the scariest thing he would ever have to do was stand on the edge of the wall and look 700 feet down. Getting close to your oversized lizard today is so much worse.
His stomach tightens, and he has to hide the trembling of his hands by gripping the hilt of his sword. You reach out your hand to him.
"Come on. You really don't need to be afraid. Vermithor is really sweet."
Cregan takes a few steps towards both of you, Vermithors eyes flash, and "sweet" is the last thing Cregan would think of to describe this dragon. He has to force himself to keep going. But when Vermithor lets out a dark growl, Cregan flinches and stops. You turn a little to Vermithor and speak a few Valyrian words to him. Cregan understands his own name and Winterfell. A moment after you finish, Vermithor shakes slightly and then lowers his body down to his knees, while his wings fold tightly against his body and he lowers his head so that his eyes are at Cregan's height. Cregan stares in shock from you to your dragon. Did he really listen to you?
"I understand that you are scared..."
"I am not scared" Cregan interrupts you quickly, too quickly. A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you catch him lying. But you extend your hand again. Cregan takes a deep breath and forces himself to take the last steps. Gods, he has stood on battlefields, won wars, even had to fight for his place in Winterfell. He would describe himself as brave, but taking those steps onto your dragon costs him all his courage.
The air around Vermithor's body is warm and smells of sulfur. The Lord of Winterfell is by no means squeamish, yet he has to pull himself together not to wrinkle his nose. He is afraid of angering the dragon.
He reaches for your hand, your fingertips closing around the black leather of his glove. The touch of your fingers grounds him a little and he manages to take a deep breath and calm his heart a little bit.
You don't pull at him, giving him time until he stands directly in front of your dragon on his own. Vermithor doesn't move, only his eyes blink. Cregan has the feeling that the dragon is inspecting him closely, its eyes far too intelligent for a lizard. It sends a shiver down Cregan's spine.
"Do you want to pet him?" you ask, your gaze vigilant on Cregan and Vermithor as your fingertips glide over the scales beneath the dragon eye.
Cregan wants to shake his head and say no, but instead he carefully takes off the glove. He notices that his palm is sweaty, but he can't wipe it on his shirt, you would notice that. Slowly, Cregan raises his hand he cannot supress the slight trembling. He looks at you once more, you nod quickly. Cregan places his hand on the dragon's nose, the scales are hot and hard. Vermithor does not move, his breath steady while Cregan held his breath. Carefully, his fingers glide over Vermithor's nose, he endures it exactly four heartbeats, then he withdraws his hand and takes two steps back.
His heartbeat is fast, his breathing is unsteady and he notices the blush rising in his cheeks. He is sure that by now you know that he is panicking with fear. Nevertheless he looks at you.
You meet his gaze with a warm, proud smile "I told you, he is really sweet." you say and press your cheek against Vermithor. The dragon blows air out of its nostrils again, then gently nudges you and makes a humming sound, almost like a melody. Cregan is surprised that a hundred-year-old dragon is as gentle as a kitten.
Cregan grumbles in agreement, his fear still lingers in his stomach. "Can we go back now?" he looks at the horses, a few steps away. He did touch the dragon, but that doesn't mean he feels comfortable now.
You start to giggle. "Still scared?" you ask in a teasering voice. He looks at you, a smile dances around the corners of your lips. Vermithor nudges you lightly in the side, then straightens up a bit and takes a step towards Cregan. The ground trembles, the trees around sway, leaves fall to the ground.
Cregan has to swallow, needs all his courage not to run away. Vermithor slowly moves his head towards him, hiding you behind his body. Cregan's heart begins to beat faster, once again he has cold sweat on his forehead.
"Stay completely calm." he hears you say, not a hint of worry in your voice. Cregan isn't even surprised by how much trust you place in your dragon. Vermithor's head slowly comes closer, he sniffs the air around Cregan and then gently nudges him with his snout. The touch isn't even strong enough to make Cregan take a step back. He would never have expected such caution from the giant. The bronze Fury seems more like a kitten right now.
The dragon exhales, the air is so hot that Cregan's eyes begin to burn. Suddenly, Vermithor rises to his full height, his head hovering a few feets above the ground before he lets out a loud roar.
Cregan flinches in shock, the deep tone makes his bones vibrate, his muscles tense up, ready to run as fast as he can. Still, he remains where he is, looking at you.
You smile at him, pride in your gaze. Suddenly you run past Vermithor and throw yourself in Cregan´s arms. The Lord of Winterfell wraps his arms around you, catching you und pressing you close to him. Your warm laughter reaches his ears, and for a moment, he can forget the dragons three steps away. Still laughing, you take a step back from Cregan but reaching for his hand again. Your smile rivals the sun. You have to tilt your head slightly back to look at Cregan.
"Good, he likes you." you speak with conviction. "Now we can get married."
Cregan has to blink in surprise. "Wait this was up for discussion?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Of course, My Lord Stark. Never could I marry a man that my Vermithor has not approved of."
Cregan looks past you back to your dragon. He feels as if his eyes are watching every of his movements. He has to swallow. So Vermithor likes him? Cregan can´t tell why you are so sure about this.
You squeeze his hand to regain his attention. Cregan looks at you. You stand on your tiptoes and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. It's just a brief moment, but it makes Cregan's stomach do somersaults and his heart pound loudly in his chest. Cregan wants to pull you into his arms immediately and claim your mouth as his. He has to hold back, contenting himself with pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. You snuggle into his arms.
"And what do you say? Do you feel like taking a little flight?" he can hear your laughter in your voice. You making fun of him, he knows that. If Cregan had a slightly bigger ego, he would force himself to climb onto that dragon's back just to avoid having to admit to his fiancée that he is too scared. It's a good thing Cregan's ego isn't that big after all. Not even an army of giants and the others could get him onto this dragon.
"Absolutely not." Cregan replies, also laughing and pulls you towards the horses. Vermithor lets out a growl and then spreads his wings. In the next moment, his body rises into the air and he takes off flying briefly over Cregan's and your head.
The Lord of Winterfell has to pull himself together not to flinch. He would never love this dragon as you do, but at least Vermithor didn't eat him at the first opportunity. That's a good sign Cregan thinks.
#cregan stark x you#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon fic#cregan stark fanfic#house stark#hotd fic#house of the dragon#hotd#cregan stark x targaryen!reader#cregan stark fic#cregan stark fanfiction
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I am not EVERY autistic person so this probably won't be a total coverage approach, but here's what I have learned:
People like to feel that you pay attention to and remember little but important things about them. And when someone is "small-talking" with you, it is often because they either want to offer you some of that info about themselves, or they want to pearn it about you so they can "return the effort". I think of it a bit like call and response with my cats! They don't understand me, and I don't understand them, but when I walk into the kitchen each morning, Lup runs towards me excitedly making her tiny little squeaks and trills. That's kitty small-talk! Many words of all varieties just say "I love you! I missed you! I'm happy to be here with you today!"
So I answer her! Sometimes I mimic her little sounds, and other times I pretend we're gossiping like church ladies (*gasp* NO, you're KIDDING, he said THAT?? What a scandal!") But whichever I do Lup gets excited and continues her little "conversation" with me.
People are harder. I had to really take time and practice different ways of responding before I found appropriate "call and response" for small talk, but I found that there are genuinely more options than you'd think. And the same thing happened! As I learned how to "call and respond" to small talk, I found that people would excitedly approach me to have it, and gradually we got to know each other enough that the "calls" coming from both sides got less general, more tailored to our personal preferences and interests, and I didn't have to small talk as much (but when I did it wasn't as scary either)
This isn't just my personal theory either! A fair amount of research in interpersonal/social in-group dynamics suggests that "bids for attention" like small talk function in this way of call-and-response intimacy/connection building. I have found that a LOT of social etiquette gets less scary to navigate when I at least understand the function of it. It also gave me some understsnding of why people might be hurt when I visibly don't WANT to "respond" to a "call" they've made: I'm the same way about my "calls" I just use different ones! The way I feel when I ask someone "would you want to hang out with me in the kitchen while I make lunch?" (Sad, a little anxious or vulnerable, maybe hurt if they've said no to a LOT of recent calls, etc) is the same way others feel when I decline theirs! That doesn't change if it was MISSED rather than DECLINED, but it can be repaired! Ao another thing I've taken to doing is naming for people the calls I have learned I'm most likely to miss. I know I have a hard time understanding/recognizing small talk as a call to attention, so I let people know that! And generally the people I connect best with are the ones who notice I missed a call and offer me an explicit/direct opportunity to reject it before internalizing what I've done as a rejection. This isn't really an option for everyone! And while I'm always delighted when someone is compatible with me in that way, I don't get upset if they're not, and work to not take it personally as something I'm doing wrong either.
Anyway, this got rambly at the end there, but the point is, most social interactions have a FUNCTION and while being autistic frequently means that we struggle to learn and interact in these systems as they currently exist, but that doesn't necessarily mean that we don't also depend on those functions. I think it can be easy to forget that part of the "disabling" effects of social/communication symptoms in autism is how it cuts us off from systems of support, care, and human interconectedness (things we still NEED) and it can matter to our quality of life to be able to find compatible alternatives to fulfilling those functions even if the original mechanism (small talk in this case) doesn't suit us.
Being bad at small talk doesn't mean you don't need friends, but it will probably make it very hard to MAKE friends. And we each and all deserve to decide for ourselves what to do about that.
I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.
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THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos
pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader
summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.
word count: 3.2k
warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression
A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3
Part 1: Wake Up Call
Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.
Today he gets out of rehab.
He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.
Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.
Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.
The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.
"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.
"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."
Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."
"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."
"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.
"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"
"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."
"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."
<>
Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.
A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?
A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.
'I'm proud of you <3'
A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.
He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.
He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.
<>
Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.
Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.
The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.
"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.
He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."
"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."
He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.
You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."
Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.
He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.
He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"
You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.
He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."
"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."
He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."
You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."
He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."
Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."
He smiles.
"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."
Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"
You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."
He laughs. "Fair enough."
You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.
"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"
You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."
"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."
Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."
He smiles. "Good."
You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.
Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.
You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.
<>
Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.
"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.
"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.
He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."
Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.
"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.
"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."
You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."
"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.
"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.
The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."
You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."
You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"
You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.
Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."
You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."
"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."
You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.
"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."
"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."
"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.
You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."
On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.
"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"
Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.
"Where have you been, dude?"
Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.
"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."
He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.
He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.
He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.
He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."
Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"
"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.
"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"
Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.
"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.
Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.
"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"
You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"
He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."
"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.
"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.
The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.
<>
It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.
He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.
Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.
You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.
One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.
"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."
You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."
He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.
"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.
"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."
You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.
You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.
"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."
Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.
"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."
He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."
A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.
Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"
"Please."
He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.
This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.
He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.
"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."
You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."
Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.
All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.
Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day
Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody
Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa
lmk if you want to be added to the taglist
#squid game#squid game 2#squid game season 2#squid game fanfic#squid game x reader#thanos squid game#thanos x reader#thanos#choi su bong#squid game thanos#player 230#choi su bong x reader#t.o.p
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『sweet little thing p.2 | b. barnes x reader』
pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has a third part! summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』
fluff ; angst ; smut
"I don't think the text was for me, darlin', but for the record, it looks good."
Your widened eyes stared at the text until the screen of your phone locked again due to lack of activity.
You couldn't believe you had been so stupid as to send without checking the contact beforehand! You cursed your slippery fingers, and the fact that their names started with "J". Thankfully you didn't mention any names in the text, or else you'd probably have to drop out and move elsewhere...
Once the embarrassment had washed away ever so slightly, you let his words sink in - "but for the record, it looks good". You gripped your skirt and pressed your thighs together as you imagined the man leaning closely and whispering that in your ear, telling you just how good you looked.
Another dilemma popped into your mind - now that he knew you thought it was slutty, should you really go out in it!? On one hand, Bucky told you it looked good, but on the other you'd basically admitted to knowing too much showed in that outfit...
The sound of a car honking outside broke you from your trance, and you walked over to your bedroom's window to find your ride already waiting for you. You muttered a small "fuck" under your breath gathered all of your things and stuffed them in a bag before taking one last look at the mirror.
"Oh, whatever, can't get worse than it already is." You said to yourself, grabbed a large jersey and threw it on top of the cheerleader outfit you decided to wear.
You sprayed some perfume and left the house, with your heart wanting to find Bucky right away, and your mind wanting him to stay as far as possible.
You all rode in the same car in direction to Andy's house, which meant that at least you wouldn't be alone with Bucky yet again - that alone calmed you down quite a bit. The ride was loud and full of music, but you couldn't stop thinking about your little (big) mistake.
Your friends noticed, but as far as they were aware, you had a thing for Andy, so they just brushed it off as being nervous to be around him or something of the sort.
Fortunately, Andy was the one opening the door this time, and he greeted everyone with a big, adorable smile that would have made you fall to your knees just a couple weeks ago.
"Guys, I need your help carrying the beer cases, the ice and the thermal boxes. Y/N can you and Jas go to the garage and bring the boxes? There's four of them, they're empty so you should be alright bringing two each."
You and the other girl nodded, following his instructions as to how to get to the garage. Once you got there, however, the boxes were nowhere to be seen.
"Can you go ask him where they are, Jas? I'll keep looking."
Your friend nodded and turned around, leaving you alone to look for the boxes by yourself. You tried not to make too much of a mess while searching for them, but you had looked as hard as possible without moving anything, and yet you had no luck finding what you were looking for.
"What happened to that little number I saw?"
You jumped and shrieked at the deep voice behind you. When you turned around you saw those steel blue eyes looking down at you, with a little knowing smile.
There was no point in playing dumb, you both knew what he was talking about. His eyes flew down to your hands that played with the hem of your jersey.
You felt so small under his gaze... You had never felt like this with any other guy - sure, you had been shy before, but when it came to Bucky it was like the words were caught on your throat and your whole body caught on fire. Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was the confidence and power in the way he conducted himself - the image of a man who wasn't, for once, all bark and no bite.
He stepped forward, reaching right beside you to claim the beer he had left open on the counter that you were leaning against.
"Decided against my advice?" He took a swing of his beer, the playful, devilish smile on his face spreading wider "Andy would've liked it."
He was teasing you. He knew you were embarrassed and he was using it against you, for amusement.
"Why? Did you like it?"
The both of you were shocked at the words that left your lips - you didn't know where those words came from and Mr. Barnes wasn't waiting for something so bold to come out of you.
He chuckled and his eyes suddenly seemed to be darker, but that darkness wasn't the lack of emotion you had seen that day at the store, it was a different type... there was something sensual about his gaze rather.
"Maybe I did."
The two of you heard footsteps heading towards you. Bucky stepped away from you and faced the door just as your friend came in.
"Andy said that his dad already- oh, hello Mr. Barnes!"
"Hi there. Can I help you?" He asked Jas.
Bucky acted as if nothing had happened, as if he and you had just been having a casual conversation, as if the air was thick and tense from the sexual tension burning between your bodies.
"Andy told me and Y/N to fetch the thermal boxes, but he didn't know you had brought them out already." She explained.
"I see. Well, have fun girls." He said, looking between you and her, as you walked towards the door to leave with your friend.
Suddenly, an idea popped into your mind, a little bit of revenge for what he had just done to you. You needed to act fast, so thinking twice about the idea was out of the question, you just... did it.
"Aren't you going to watch the game, Mr. Barnes?" You asked teasingly, turning back around to face him.
Bucky scoffed, knowing exactly what you were doing calling him 'Mr. Barnes'.
"Might stop by and watch it, why sweetheart?" The man asked, with a curious look, taking another sip of his beer, something he did often to hide his smirk.
You took off the jersey you were wearing over your outfit, revealing the cheerleader getup you had just talked about, and handed him the item of clothing.
"You don't have anything to support the team! I can lend you my jersey." You said, your voice honest and innocent, as if you didn't know exactly what your words and actions meant, as if there wasn't a second meaning to what you did.
Bucky wasn't exactly subtle in the way he looked at you. His eyes were eating you up, from top to bottom, slowly taking in the view in the flesh. Eventually, he reached for the jersey and took it.
"Thanks, sweetheart, I'll make sure to give it to you when the game is over."
You mumbled a "don't mention it" and walked back into the house with your friend, so you could help everyone set up for the game.
"Dude, his dad is a real DILF." Jas whispered as you two made it to the front porch.
"I know, right?" You smugly agreed.
Whistles and compliments echoed in the room when you pulled up with the cheerleader outfit after ditching the jersey. Andy's eyes in particular stayed the longest on your body, and you felt a little guilty for nor caring about what he thought - the feedback that you truly wanted had already been received.
Bucky had joined the group not long after the game started, and you didn't miss the way his eyes stole glances at you whenever possible.
The man himself didn't know what was wrong with him. He was nearly twice your age, he could be your dad, it was a very possible scenario since his actual kid was your classmate, but for some reason, ever since you had walked into his house with that pretty little skirt and those big, shy eyes, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about you.
He knew he wasn't being subtle when eating you up with his eyes, but Bucky wanted you to know, to see what you did to him.
Both of you were aware of the painfully tense and erotic situation, as you'd spread your legs and cross them more often than not, giving Bucky a good view or your exposed skin, making him yearn for more.
"Shit, we need more chips." One of the guys complained.
"I can get them." You offered, since you weren't really interested in the game, and stood up, taking the two empty bowls with you.
It seemed to be impossible to ever be in that house without being left alone with James Barnes, but that time it wasn't accidental at all. As you were opening the chips and dumping them on one of the bowls, footsteps echoed behind you.
Suddenly, Bucky placed his hands on your waist and flipped you around, pressing you against the counter and trapping you between the furniture and his body.
"What are you doing, darlin'?" He asked, looking straight into your widened eyes.
"I-I'm refilling the chips..." You responded, pointing at the bowl behind you with your thumb.
"Fuck the chips, you know exactly what I mean, pretty girl." The man said, cutting right through your act, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you to him.
One of the corners of your lips twitched upwards, discarding the innocent façade.
"I'm doing just what you are doing."
"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N."
The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, it rolled off of his tongue in a manner that couldn't be described in any way other than sensual.
"And you aren't?"
He chuckled, licked his lips slowly and then brushed his hair back with his hand, out of frustration. Your naive side had him going insane with desperation, but your bold side had the man wishing to fuck the brat out of you.
"You know what?" He said, taking his hand and softly placing the pads of his fingers right above your knee "I'd love to bend you over this counter and fuck you with this little skirt still on."
His hand trailed up your leg, slowly lifting your bottoms, revealing your white panties with a pink bow in the front. Bucky smirked and chuckled, a small patch of wetness was clearly visible.
"But?..." You questioned, teasing him as you slid one of your thighs between his legs.
"Y/N! How are those chips coming along, dude?" One of the boys yelled from the living room, snapping the two of you into reality.
"Yeah- coming! One second." You responded.
"I guess we'll have to finish this later, Sergeant."
You didn't give him time to respond, as you grabbed the two bowls and walked back into the living room, the wet spot between your legs now larger than ever before, seemingly.
What Bucky was feeling was wrong. He stood there in the kitchen, thinking about you, thinking about how he towered over you and how you looked at him with those eyes that switched back and forth from innocent to fierce, to tease him, to lure him even further.
His pants were tight and his head was filled with thoughts of your body, leaving over and pressing against every surface of that house, with him inside of you.
It was torture, he couldn't handle it anymore, and he couldn't go back into the living room with such and obvious problem - and with the source of the problem sitting so close.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Mr. Barnes going up the stairs, with a serious face and a quick pace. No one else seemed to notice, however, as they were too focused on the game.
"I'm going to the bathroom, anyone need anything from the kitchen?" You lied, looking for an excuse to leave the room as quickly as possible without being suspicious.
You had just come back from the kitchen with the chips, so everyone shook their head or mumbled a "no", so you stood up and followed up the stairs, looking out for any noise to find out which door Bucky had gone into.
As you walked down the hallway, you could hear faint grunts that grew closer with each step. Eventually you found the door of what you assumed was his bedroom, and your whole body froze. There was only one door between you, and the thing that you had fantasized for so long.
"Fuck..." You heard him groan from the inside.
Your hand grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it, as the heat between your legs was too much to bear. You opened the door, just enough to be able to see him sitting on the bed, back against the wall and head leaning back, as his hand stroked his cock.
"Are you enjoying the show?" He asked, continuously jerking his shaft as he lowered his head and looked straight at you, his hair falling beautifully over his face.
Your face was burning up and your heart was racing, but your nerves were nothing compared to the pure hunger and desperation you felt for the man. You stepped into the room, carefully, as if stepping into a wolf's cage, and closed the door behind you.
Bucky watched as you walked over to him, eyes shifting between his hand's movements and his face.
His free hand flew to your hip, slowly guiding you down until you were sitting on his lap, your wet, clothed pussy applying pressure on his cock.
You stared at each other's lips for a very long time. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek and, slowly but surely, brought you closer, until there was no space left between you.
What started out slowly very quickly progressed, and the second your lips connected, his hands were all over your body, gripping you ass and toying with the little skirt he loved so much. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it ever so often as his tongue got bolder.
The two of you pulled apart, your lips were swollen and your eyes were glazed, obviously displaying how much the two of you needed more.
His eyes fell to your lips and he kissed you softly once more before looking up at your eyes.
"We shouldn't do this..." His mouth said something, but the curious fingers that played with the waistband of your panties told you a completely different story.
"Why?" You asked softly, placing small, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to close his eyes and groan.
"My son... Fuck- Andy likes you." Bucky said finally, gripping you tightly as soon as those words left his mouth, as if he thought you'd slip away at the confession.
You kept on kissing his neck, as that confession didn't faze you - if it was something that you would've been over the moon about just a month ago, it was now irrelevant. Bucky came into your life and took over your mind completely, you felt as if every release would feel subpar, unless he was the one helping you reach it.
"You really wanna stop? Hm?" You asked teasingly, as your hips began grinding against his, your wet panties rubbing on his cock.
The conflict on his face was brief, as he eventually threw his head back and let out a low groan. The male gripped your ass cheeks and flipped the two of you over as he attacked your neck.
His hands expertly slid your underwear down your legs, and the male began kissing down your neck, your chest, and your stomach, until he reached your pussy. Bucky teased you for a second, kissing your inner thighs, but he was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel him.
As his tongue begins licking your cunt and circling your clit, your right hand covers your mouth, while the other grips his hair.
"Aren't you a sweet little thing?..." He whispers, after tasting you.
You almost came at those words, the pure filth of the whole situation leaving you dizzy with pleasure.
The man's cock throbbed against the mattress, but he was too drunk in your taste to let go - Bucky wanted to taste as much of you as possible. His tongue slipped in and out of you as he took a break from teasing your clit, and he didn't stop until your back arched, as Bucky wanted to make you cum with his cock.
Bucky's lips met yours once more, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. That kiss was meant to muffle your sinful sounds as he slipped inside of you and slowly pushed himself fully into you. His girth stretched you out in the most satisfying way, and, somehow, the thing you had fantasized about for so long was even better than you had imagined.
He started out slowly, looking into your eyes as if testing the waters, and picked up the pace when he saw you were comfortable enough. Thankfully the TV was loud enough to drown out the echo from the skin slapping sounds, but they wouldn't drown out much more.
Bucky covered your mouth with his hand as his hips snapped against yours at a feral pace - he wanted to make you scream in a way that you wouldn't be heard.
"Want to be a whore? Hm? Parading yourself in front of me with those pretty little skirts thinking I wasn't gonna fuck the shit out of you?"
Your tits bounced to the rhythm of his thrusts, and you thanked for the hand covering your mouth, allowing you to be as mouthy and as loud as you wanted to.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you looking pretty like this, sweetheart." He said, between pants.
Bucky wouldn't last long, as your ever-tightening walls and the erotic look on your face rendered him weak, but thankfully you were also near your climax - he could tell from the way your back arched slightly more by the second.
"Wanna cum for me, baby?" Bucky questioned, removing his hand so you could answer.
"Y-yeah, please, Sir."
He chuckled and smirked at the nickname that, to your credit, did have a nice ring when you were begging under him.
One of Bucky's hands slid between your bodies and circled your clit, until your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your toes curled. You had to bite your lip harshly, to stop yourself from moaning out Bucky's name. The latter pulled out and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning and panting as he climaxed, spilling all over your stomach.
Knock, knock.
"Hey dad, have you seen Y/N?"
For a second your face went white and your blood froze - you begged that he didn't open the door, or he would come face to face with a rather unfortunate view. You simply stared at Bucky, trusting that he would come up with something
"Huh?" He said, pretending to be clueless at first, "Oh yeah, she had a bit of an accident." Hinting that you had gotten your period, a clever lie that Andy wouldn't question due to its nature "She was embarrassed and didn't want to tell everyone so I told her to just go home."
"Oh... Okay." Andy's voice seemed sad, and you heard his footsteps dragging on the floor and becoming quieter as he walked away.
Bucky looked into your eyes before pressing a kiss to your jaw.
"Guess you don't gotta go back down... Plenty of time for another round. Or two."
'minors do not interact' banner credit: @cafekitsune
#bucky#marvel#bucky barnes#bucky smut#winter soldier#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fluff#bucky fanfic#bucky reader insert#bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#winter soldier smut#bucky barnes reader smut
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See, this is also why slash ships tend to be very high in popularity. Because when you look for something really fun to ship, what you are looking for is mental and emotional intimacy. You're looking for someone who instinctively looks for their other half when they hear something weird, or something cool, or when they need help, when they are wounded, when they are distressed. Holmes and Watson are some of the originals because there is nobody Holmes would rather tell about it than Watson, for any value of "it," and frankly I think Watson sometimes gets Holmes to explain How He Knows The Thing just so he can hear Holmes have fun with it. Kirk and Spock are the same way. Mulder and Scully are tied together by powerful bonds of can you believe this shit, but what that really means is that they want to hear what the other has to say. They want each other's thoughts. They want each other's opinion. When they need something, whether that's a person to save their life or someone to tell them they're full of shit, Mulder looks to Scully and Scully looks to Mulder.
And frankly that's so much more powerful, to our little shipper brains, than pants feelings. It's so much more significant than the sort of thing that, I don't know, Jason Bourne shared with whatever girl he kissed in those movies. If directors want us to ship their favorite hetero ships, they can leave out the kiss and give us more moments where one is essential to the other's way of existing in this world.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6a8a1f46cee0140d90ac9c39f8990514/2ab6a79acc7df235-e6/s540x810/f00438977d35b07d3e371056c6dc4599fa8ea073.jpg)
- David Duchovny
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can you do a rafe x reader where he has been ignoring and neglecting her, cancelling plans, and they haven't had sex in a while so she gets really upset and stops trying to make plans after he cancels on a date again bc she thinks he doesn't want her anymore. Then he realizes that she was really the only one putting in effort and he feels so bad and brings her flowers and stuff and apologizes and spends the whole night worshipping her and making her feel good
Enough for you
Rafe x reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Notes: thank you for the request! I hope this is what you wanted anon <3
It had been weeks since Rafe had paid attention to you like he usually did. You could understand it, to a certain extent anyway, you could understand he was working and all, but it had gotten to a point where he would barely even touch you anymore, and that hurt. It was starting to affect you, more than you'd ever admit out loud, you felt as though he did not want you anymore. It led you to wonder if he no longer found you attractive anymore, you had started to pick out more flaws in yourself than you usually did when you looked in the mirror.
But despite this, you still continued to plan nice things for the two of you to do, days out on the weekend, movie nights, dinner out at his favourite restaurants. All of which achieved nothing, in fact, it only made you feel worse than you already did. Why? Because he would cancel on you last minute over a short text, sometimes he would grace you with some sort of pathetic excuse, and if he didn't cancel, he was barely present, half listening to what you were saying, not offering the input he usually would. So, the dates you planned slowly lost the thoughtfulness you usually put into them, but no matter what you did, you just felt worse and worse. You had ended up taking a day off of work so that you could stay home and cook Rafe's favourite meal, setting up the table with candles and dressing up nicely, but half an hour before he was supposed to come home for dinner, he cancelled on you, again. So instead of spending the romantic night you'd planned with him, you spent it alone, accompanied only by a bottle of wine as you ate alone, leaving his cold food out on the table along with your half empty plate and the dirty serving plates. If he wasn't going to put in any effort, neither were you, clearly it meant nothing to him anymore. You'd run a bath and had sat in there until it went cold, and when you got out, you left the empty wine bottle and glass on the floor next to the draining bathtub.
Days had passed and his behaviour towards you remained the same, you couldn't help but wonder if it was you that was the problem, the two of you had been living together for a year and he'd only been acting this way for the past couple of months. Maybe he'd grown bored of you. Maybe you weren't pretty enough anymore. Maybe there was someone else. Maybe him and Barry had finally gotten together. The lack of effort you were now putting into the relationship became more than just that, it became a lack of effort in everything you did. At work you were only half present, being too tired to give you undivided attention to the task at hand due to sleepless nights caused by overthinking. Had Rafe even noticed? Clearly not. Were you not enough for him anymore?
There you lay, one night, watching his peacefully sleeping form beside you, he lay on his back, an arm behind his head, barely out of the clothes he had left the house in that morning. His shoes and trousers were thrown carelessly on the floor. He had come home while you were in the bath, you'd barely spoken to him before he went to bed. He'd come into the bathroom and pressed a kiss to your head, leaving before you'd even had the chance to ask how his day was, not that you were sure you really wanted to know anyway.
When the rays from the sun started to peak through the gaps in the curtains, marking yet another sleepless night, you threw yourself out of bed, not caring to even check the time as you lazily got dressed and left the house to walk along the beach.
By the time you came back home it was about three in the afternoon, you’d completely lost track of time watching the waves break against the shore while listening to music, that and you hadn’t been sure if you were ready to come home and spend the rest of your Saturday alone like you had the past few weeks. When you got home, you were fully prepared to dedicate the rest of the to yourself by running a bath, opening some wine and lighting some candles. What you were not expecting was to come home and see Rafe sat on the couch watching tv and drinking a beer. “Rafe? What are you-“ you began, only for him to cut you off.
“ ‘s Saturday, ‘s date night.” He stated in a tone that said everything he didn’t, isn’t it obvious? How could you forget? What have you got planned? You could only sigh as you walked over to him, stopping to stand by the armrest of the couch, placing your palm on it to lean on.
“Um, I’ve actually got plans tonight,” you mumbled knowing full well that you had no plans beyond a bath, yet you didn’t feel up to telling him you had not bothered to plan a date under the assumption he wouldn’t be there, not that he didn’t deserve to hear it.
A small frown lined his brows, “Oh, right. I’ll jus’ uh,” but he then shook his head, not ready to drop it yet, “but y’always plan something for us t’do on date night.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t this week!” You couldn’t help but snap at him, his lips parted as though he was at a loss for what to say, not knowing how to respond to that, so he just nodded, his eyes trained on your form as you turned to go upstairs before returning his attention to whatever he’d been watching on tv. He found himself unable to concentrate though, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he thought back on the past few weeks, how he’d been acting towards you and sighed, knowing he’d messed up.
The next day you’d gone about your morning as usual. You’d woken up to Rafe’s side of the bed empty as you had done for the past couple of weeks and occupied yourself by reading while sat outside soaking up the sun. You didn’t expect Rafe to be home till much later considering it was a Sunday, therefore it was a golf day, and he never missed a golf day. So, when you heard the front door opening, you were surprised to say the least, to be completely honest, you had thought it was someone breaking in at first. You had walked inside to see who was there, when you stepped into the kitchen you were met with a sight you hadn’t been expecting, a massive bouquet of lilies, pink and white ones. The sensation of Rafe’s warm hand being placed on your lower back caused you to jump, and you placed a hand on your chest when you glanced over your shoulder it see it was him, “you scared me!”
He didn’t address your exclamation, instead he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, “D’you like them?”
“Yeah, they’re very pretty, thank you.” You nodded, slightly confused as to the complete 360 in his behaviour, “Thought you had golf today.”
“I did, but I skipped,” he shrugged as if it was nothing, placing a kiss on your neck, but you didn’t buy it, he had rarely skipped golf on a Sunday for as long as you could remember.
You could only frown, “But you never skip golf.” He sighed and you bit the inside of your cheek, worried he was going to disappear now that you’d addressed his odd behaviour.
“Look I-“ he sighed again and you could tell he was struggling to formulate the words he wanted to say, “ ‘ve not been great, the past few weeks, an’ I wanted to apologise. ‘ve jus’ been really busy workin’ y’know, jus’ ‘m tryn’a take care’f business.
“And I get that, I do. But it’s been weeks, and honestly one apology isn’t going to fix everything.” You spoke calmly, trying to ignore the tears you could feel attempting to escape.
He let go of you and stepped back, allowing you to turn and face him, “Look I, I know that, aight. ‘m jus’, ‘m tryn’a fix it, so can y’let me take you out f’dinner tonight or somethin’?”
Maybe you were being dramatic, but it didn’t feel that way, not with how awful his actions had caused you to feel about yourself, “I’m sorry but um, I’m not really in the mood. Just gonna read and go to bed, thank you for the flowers though.” You offered him a tight-lipped smile and tilted your head up, placing a kiss on his cheek and leaving the room, going back outside through the open porch door to continue your book.
That night you’d gone to bed earlier than you usually would, not that you were anywhere near falling asleep, so instead you were just doomscrolling in the comfort of your side of the bed, which was a lot more cosily decorated than Rafe’s. The door creaking open signalled Rafe’s entrance, you didn’t look away from your phone as you felt the bed behind you dip. His warm palm found home on your waist, slipping underneath the hem of your( his)shirt that you were wearing.
“ ‘m sorry,” he mumbled, placing a kisses to your exposed collarbone, his large short hanging off of your shoulder and baring your skin to him, “ ‘m so sorry, baby, ‘ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?”
You nodded, struggling to keep your eyes on the screen of your phone, not even taking in the contents of whatever video was playing but still did your best to try and ignore him. “Can y’let me make it up to you? Hm?” He continued to place soft kisses to your skin, sucking lightly at the junction of your neck and shoulder, you were unable to stop the small sigh that escaped you, your eyes now closed, your phone discarded on the bed besides you. Rafe’s hand remained on your bare waist, the cold ring on his finger a stark contrast to his warm skin, is thumb brushing back and forth in a comforting manner. “Ran you a bath. Gonna come in with me?” His words came out in but a mumble, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, and despite your anger at him, you could tell he was truly sorry, so you nodded.
A hum left your lips as the warm, bubbly water of the bath surrounded you, your bare back making contact with Rafe’s bare chest. You closed your eyes, leaning back into him, your head resting against his broad shoulder. The room, though silent apart from the steady hum of the exhaust fan, was a peaceful one. The steady silence disturbed by the sound of Rafe’s voice, “I love you, so much. ‘m sorry it hasn’t seemed like that for a while.”
“You hurt me, Rafe.” You weren’t going to lie to him no matter how much you struggled to voice things like this, not when the opportunity to try and fix things had presented itself to you, “I thought that maybe there was someone else.”
“Oh, baby.” He sighed upset, though it was clear it was directed at himself and not at you, “ ‘m sorry, I- there’s no one but you f’me. I jus’, ‘ve been so caught up in work, not that ‘s an excuse but I, um, was jus’ really caught up tryn’a live up t’my dad’s expectations, y’know?”
“Rafe,” you sighed, “why didn’t you just talk to me? I’d have understood, you know that.”
You felt him nod once, his breathing deeper than it had been before, his hands slid down from where they had previously been placed on your waist to your hips, his grip tight as if he was afraid you’d leave. “Can y’let me make it up t’you?” He asked as he began to trace light patterns on your skin and began placing soft kisses on your neck, “Please? Wanna make you feel good.” You exhaled and moved your head away from him, exposing more of the skin of your neck to him and nodded. One of his hands left its spot on your hip, his fingers trailing down to brush your clit causing a sharp gasp to leave you at the sensitivity from not being touched for so long. “Shit, can’t believe ‘ve gone so long without touchin’ you, missed all your pretty noises.” Two of his fingers slid into you and he began to move them with practiced eased, knowing how to please you better than you knew how to please yourself.
“Fuck, Rafe.” You breathed, your head falling further back against his shoulder. You could feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin, “That feel good?” You nodded, “It’s so good.” He only hummed and his thumb began to rub circles on your clit causing your back to arch, your hands gripping his wrist and bicep. As you grew close, you began to squirm where you were sat on his lap, and in return his hand on your hip moved to hold you down to stop you escaping his hold, your nails digging into the skin of his arm, only moans and whispers of his name leaving you.
“Y’close?” He mumbled, his skilful fingers moving faster, brining you over the edge properly for the first time in weeks. But he didn’t stop moving his fingers causing you to whine and writhe in his hold, “C’mon, give me one more, yeah?”
One more turned to two, to three until the bath water was cold and you were trembling in his hold while he carried you out, drying you and taking you to bed. He slowly brought you down, coaxing you out of your state of euphoria with praise, his voice soft as he pressed kisses to your slightly damp skin.
“I love you,” you whispered, content in the safety of his arms around you, your head resting on his bare chest.
“And I love you, more than you could possibly imagine,” he murmured into your hair and pressed a firm kiss to your temple. You fell asleep, finally at peace, back in the arms of the man you loved.
Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3
#obx#outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and you#rafe angst#rafe x reader smut#rafe fic#rafe imagine#obx smut#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fluff
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writing long ass letters to hometown friends now we’ve all moved away and not getting a reply breaks my heart. i really weave my love into them. it’s in the art i make, the postcards i buy, the pamphlets i collect. i’m thinking of my friends constantly.
i long to be thought of.
#aromantic things#i know it’s just not really the same for them#but truly i put so much effort in and it kills me that what is on surface level reciprocated#isnt shown in actions#maybe also autistic things#actually autistic#actually aromantic#autistic#aromantic#snail mail#pen pal#penpals#penpal#letters#moss rambles#mossrambles
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