#i was wondering if the cards I found were the ones you referred and if you ever read my reply to your og ask

[jazeswhbhaven]

An Unsightly Guy | React | Spoilers

It's Day 7 and 8 lovelies!!! And boy do we have some great content ahead especially in day 8 lol

It seems though the momentum on this event has slowed down and I think it's mostly due to the fact that it's so drawn out and so far there's nothing really "exciting" happening.

But that seems to be the case with these events like the hype is high the first two to three days and after it's like s p l o o t.

I think if this was a Amy only event and the card had an adore mode people would be more excited about it.

But that's just my ramblings forgive me.

So we're back with Sitri being on his BS when seeing Amy at any given moment lol But before this they were just staring at each other quietly again like my favorite gif that ya'll often see.

but if i'm being honestly Sitri and I have the same brain cell here because I can't stand other's hot ass breath on me even if it doesn't smell bad because why??? are??? you this damn close???

So Amy ofc tells Sitri that he's breathing like that because he's hurt. Fair but this man don't give a shit lol

He goes over to him to access the damage I assume because it turns out even though the forest is torn up there's more angel bodies dead than devil bodies. They remained victorious.

I love how Amy's subordinates are always worried about him and it shows solidarity for their leader. But yeah Sitri also has this thing about him where he shows care for everyone else except the person he dislikes this being Amy.

That's from him being up in Hades. I swear to ya'll it is. That snooty ass attitude rubbed off so badly Sitri can't help but reflect that back into the universe

STOP

the height difference, how the sprites are close to each other, Amy being a foul mouth demon that he is...I really can't get away from my cxc ship bullshit ever when they do things like this lol

I do however like that Amy is a punk. Just mouthing off and cursing any time he can.

that's why Astra likes to provoke him too

But Sitri just simply tells him to stop bitching because the pain is proof that he's alive. So Amy takes this opportunity to one up on this moment because of what happened a few days ago

first of all, Amy is adorable. I just wanna tap his booba and tell him he's doing great.

Sitri gets pissed off though because it's the exact same thing he told him when he arrived a few days back when he had to save that devil boy from his commando unit. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he had this one coming. An eye for an eye basically and Amy came and showed out.

So a couple things about this.

Remember what they said about him here, not usually being foul-mouthed and foul-tempered for a bit. You'll see where I'm getting at later.

Second. This is the pronoun thing I was referring to, which now has me thinking that maybe Sitri didn't mean "her" on day 6 and that was possibly just a mistake on the translating/writing part.

Though I am still wondering what incident caused him to be very angry back then where he had to smack himself back to reality to keep from focusing on it.

And while this little interaction is going on, the devils around them are gossiping about how Sitri and Amy always found time to fight each other even in situations like this.

But I think they forgot the part where Sitri can fucking hear them lmaooo because he was quietly stewing in annoyance by the entire thing, so much he had to think about when he and Amy first met.

So this was centuries ago, and it's wild because I'm like wait it's been that long for them holy shit my life is fleeting because to me a decade blinking by is so long.

A bit of lore about Satan btw, this was a time where he barely had an army, so it must have been he first came into power as a king. (we really need that backstory honestly) And went around scouting for willing participants even neighboring countries.

They also bring up that devils who saw him traveling around decided to join because they loved his energy.

When I think about this it's wild that Satan had to foot for his own army. This leads me to believe Gehenna was low due to the amount of deaths, or perhaps something happened with the previous king that caused this.

Either way, the babes did his thing and now he's got more than enough helping him during the battles. Picturing him recruiting folks though is cute because I imagine he's a great motivational speaker or just "hey join me btw" and it just works.

So the instructors didn't even notice Sitri because well in their defense they hadn't seen him yet. So of course they see this pretty, "slender" looking devil show up with his hair all nice and pushed back and is just like "aye so???"

He introduces himself and then that's when everyone starts acting accordingly and seeing him as a superior. But I mean that's why he was nice about it anyway because to him, they should be wary of someone they hadn't seen before and Gehenna needs that type of energy.

So now that we're in day 8 there's a few things I wanted to point out. One of them being the breadcrumb here that Hades had a fully formed solid military. That means...Leviathan is either the same age as Satan or a bit older, or he is younger than him but he's just better efficient with managing devils with his strict ass.

Sitri though see's Satan's army as an advantage. Because the Gehenna devils are flexible and free but also disciplined. That leads me to believe that it's only really fear and power that Leviathan uses to make sure that everyone in his military doesn't fuck things over. It makes sense, given Levi doesn't really have a carefree personality. There's too much trauma in there for him to break down that wall.

So while Sitri was daydreaming about his plans for leading Satan's army...someone...i think we know who fucking spits in his direction...

Now the reason he's pulling this face again is because he stepped into the spit. And I'm sitting here like ?????? I get it.

Again, like imagine just minding your business and someone just hacks a fucking loogie on the ground and you step in it. With your good shoes at that.

I'd be so disgusted like??? IRL bodily functions even my own gross me out easily so I apologize if anyone ever feels offended by me having strong opinion's about things we can't help. It's just me ya'll I live in pain constantly due to this.

Yup, it was Amy ya'll lmao big surprise.

So the reason Amy wasn't reading the room here, is because he felt like he didn't need to due to his status as a solider and being recently done with training. He was really good at what he does, so he felt anything else was not worth paying attention to.

Including spitting in the direction of your superior.

Now remember when I told ya'll to keep in mind that they said Amy wasn't usually foul mouth or foul tempered?

Then what the hell is this? Lmao

I get it, people change and well devils ain't got nothin' but time so perhaps Amy did mellow out with age and he was much younger here so that "I don't need to listen or do jack shit that ain't got to do with Satan" was very heavy. So ofcourse he'd pick a fight with everyone else.

But them expect Sitri to deal with it because he was nice to everyone?

Nah. He about that life.

He pretty much said "fuck you" without actually saying it and spat ON Amy. Mind you, Amy didn't even spit on him directly just in his walking path.

Yeah...?

That goddamn fucking smirk I'm going to lovingly kick his ass because Levi PLS

You're telling me he literally took this man, molded him into a Levi clone and sent him back out like that in Gehenna? I feel this is deliberate lmao "You sent me someone and gave me work to do so here you go here's your present <3"

Imagine all of the ass kicking Satan had to do in order to fix that attitude? Phew...I bet he was like "Again?"

now ya'll know why Cain is always on that everyone is stupid to me energy because look who he takes after?

I just find it hilarious that Sitri took that personally, because Levi would take that personally. If fact Levi wouldn't even spit on Amy back he'd just fucking hang him for being disgusting LOL

i couldn't resist.

So with Amy it was on sight, because trust, if someone spat on my face I'd be swinging too because clearly you want to disrespect me

Like ya'll think about it?

All he did was just spit on the ground and Sitri wasn't paying attention and stepped in it. He didn't spit directly on him.

small story time but it reminds me of a story i was told that i ripped up a boy's classwork in kindergarten because he tore my page on the corner as a "joke". i legit took his page and ripped it up. apparently i was on demon mode lmao

But now we're really starting to see the meat and potatoes of their dynamic. Sitri actually started it and ran with it. He saw the spit as disrespect and intentional when Amy sees it as "this dude fucking spit on me now we have beef"

So they're having this little interaction of Amy trying to punch Sitri, and because Sitri's ability to hear his heart and his muscles swell before he makes the movement he can dodge him without problem. But Amy is robust and not clumsy so he doesn't do the comical falling forward thing most of us see in cartoons.

Sitri is annoyed though because he sees the potential in Amy and his talent, he simply just doesn't like that attitude and sees it as a problem.

This is definitely Levi vibes.

So the next time Amy goes for him, he actually trips him so he falls. And it ends there.

Mannnnnnnnn this is a whole trip and a half. Like imagine if Sitri would have just simply ignored the spit and just dismissed Amy's bad attitude? I wonder if that would of even helped or if Amy would have done something to annoy Sitri later that would start the same beef regardless.

Imagine.

Centuries old beef because someone stepped in spit.

[fivekrystalpetals]

Hi, card deck anon here! Sorry for dropping this card info and leaving you hanging on like that – busy time at work and long-awaited vacation got me completely preoccupied ( •_•) Nevertheless, I’m glad you found it, becuase I wouldn’t be able to send you link as an anon (´_ゝ`) Ugh, I seriously need some new official PH content right now, I'm withering here ╥﹏╥

CARD DECK ANON!! Welcome back ghjfkl I am so happy to hear back from you and thank you so much for the card info hehehe i had a good time staring at them all day 🤭🥺

oh no don't be sorry cuz I was more worried you might not have seen my answer at all (I was off tumblr for nearly two months and missed when you sent me the original ask) you didn't leave me hanging at all cuz as soon as I read I have some sort of content for my fav ship, I dropped everything to dig out whatever it was (I knew I won't be able to sleep from the curiosity hgjfkl)

send you link as an anon (´_ゝ`)/// very sneaky dear anon very sneaky ghfjkfl but truly I feel you, starving for more PH content and let's hope we get something refreshing news this year !

Hope you had a wonderful vacation! Wish you a nice rest of the day!

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : softdom!rafayel, hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 7.9k (help me)

youtiful masterlist

a late birthday os for our favorite deep sea painter! ✨

You jumped at your phone, nearly gasping at the caller ID that flashed on your screen.

"Rafayel!"

Your grip on your phone was tight, held against your ear with an immediate burst of excitement.

It had been days.

You knew how it was, of course—an artist's inspiration was often sporadic and fleeting, and you'd even lost count of the number of times Rafayel had told you that. How essential it was to grab the spark of creativity before it you lose it; how paramount it was to focus on your flow before it disappeared... It was ingrained in the forefront of your mind, by now.

And even more than that, if Rafayel had always been one to speak of the elusiveness of inspiration, then Thomas had always been one to insist you leave him and his stroke of genius alone whenever he called for it.

You didn't understand much about the world of artists, so it was natural for you to take their words to heart, but it hadn't been easy.

Rafayel, being Rafayel, would always send you texts and updates, never failingly missing a single day... But it had been days since you'd last heard his voice at all—much less seen him. Now, marking a week sinve you'd been to his studio at all, you were pacing back and forth in your apartment, wondering how long you had to wait, and if maybe you should take a chance and visit him yourself—

But you didn't want to be selfish.

In fact, you quite despised being needy at all—with a quiet laugh, you thought, that was usually the role that Rafayel would play in your relationship. You wouldn't think to take it from him.

Yet, now, your phone rang, and the ever-familiar sound of his voice brought on a wave of butterflies in your stomach that had your mood lifting in seconds.

"Heeyyy there, cutie!"

In the background, you could make out the faint sounds of metal against concrete in the background, and your ears perked.

"Is... that your ladder? Have you finished your painting?"

"Yeah! It really took a while, this one... But Thomas'll be happy to know that it's finally finished! ...That is, if I could get ahold of him..."

You carefully sat on the edge of your bed, swinging your legs in sheer happiness at his little ramblings.

"...And, actually, I kind of need your help."

You blinked.

"Hm? Help? With what?"

"Well, you know how I told you it's been kind of a while since I last cleaned this place...?"

"...Yes..."

"Are you free now?"

"Rafayel, you can't mean...?"

"Yeah! Can you come over and help me clean?"

You couldn't believe his first thought with this call was to ask you for your cleaning services. You strained to hear the familiar tease in his voice, even waited for a moment for some kind of "Just kidding!" or whatever else that could tell you he wasn't being serious—

You felt your eyes narrow in disapproval when you found nothing.

"Rafayel, I'm not your maid, you know."

Not even an "I missed you", not even a " Want to hang out later?".

"Yeaaahh.... But you're my bodyguard, right?" The hopeful tone in his voice now would have made you laugh.... In other circumstances.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" There was a laugh, then, on the other side of the line, and you huffed. "Rafayel, don't joke with me—"

"Look! I told you, right? Thomas won't answer me, and, seriously! The studio's a mess. I really need some help... Please?"

He was laughing completely now, and the sound brought over that same, very familiar ripple of butterflies, despite all the odds.

You caved.

"This is labor abuse, Rafa. Of your own girlfriend, might I add!" You hmphed, but stood up from your bed, haphazardly gathering your things into a purse and walking out of your flat. "Fine. I'm on my way there."

"Oh, you really are the best girlfriend I could ever have wished for! Thanks, princess! See ya!"

Not even a "stay safe"!

You wondered if this was what Rafayel felt whenever you were late to receive his calls or to reply to hia texts, and you sighed.

Is he just trying to get back at me...?

Regardless, he made up for his actions by immediately twirling you over with a kiss the minute you knocked on his door, and you smiled.

"Nice to see you again, princess," he grinned.

You thought you could never have wanted to see his smile as much as you did now—

But you couldn't bring yourself to admit that to him.

"Would've been better if you said that when you called me, huh?" You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him aside and scanning the space in front of you.

He hadn't been lying.

Paint had been scattered around, well past the patches of safety paper he usually had lying all over his studio. While you were used to seeing the place mostly messy, anyway, this seemed a lot less like the organized mess you were used to. What's more, the painting wasn't even in this room anymore, and god knows where he'd put it now to dry.

You turned towards him with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Geez, Rafayel... This place looks like it's been through a hell hole. What were you doing?"

"Painting."

He shrugged, ever nonchalant and casual, only as if stating the obvious—that clearly being so engrossed in your painting would result in such a mess, and that clearly—he handed over a bundle of cleaning supplies—this was a very normal way of greeting your significant other.

You sighed.

You supposed, nothing was ever truly normal with him, anyway.

By the time you had finished, the sun that peeked through his windows bathed his studio into a golden glow. You settled onto the couch beside him, silent as he rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder, your head resting contently on his shoulder.

"You're rich, Rafayel," you mumbled, a little tiredly. "Why can't you just hire a maid if you don't want to clean things yourself?"

"And where do you think I'd find one I could trust enough to let near my paintings?"

The scoff in his voice made your lips quirk into a smile, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

...Ah.

Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes met, the gentle mix of red and purple hues in his eyes once again having you transfixed. His hair was slightly unruly from the work you'd both done, but the sunset rays streaming in from the window had little specks of sunlight painting his tresses in such a way that had you utterly mesmerized.

He chuckled slightly.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?"

You could barely bring yourself to mumble a response when he leaned in, shifting your positions just enough to have you lying on your back against the couch. Half of his weight rest over you, and you could feel it; his heartbeat against yours. You could almost amazed feel at the comfort in your synchronicity.

He sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "...Why haven't you been to the studio?" he mumbled.

His words pulled you out of your reverie, and immediately, you felt your heart sink.

"...I thought... I thought you'd be busy..." Your voice came out meek, already searching his eyes anxiously. "Thomas told me not to disturb you, a-and I thought, maybe, you didn't want to be interrupted? I know how hard it's been for you to finish that painting..."

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, that might be true..." Rafayel nuzzled your nose affectionately, succeeding in soothing your nerves down to a certain degree. "But what if I wanted to see you, too?"

"...You... You usually just ask..."

Your words were met with silence, and you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

"Rafayel—"

"But you can't expect me to be the one asking for you all the time, right?"

Something at the back of your mind told you he didn't mean it that way, but his words stung nonetheless. The disapproval in his pout made your stomach churn. The atmosphere had, to you, become a little weightier, and your chest felt heavy with guilt.

You promised you wouldn't make him wait... But didn't you, in the end? Some useless game of seeing who'd cave first?

Your gaze shifted away from him, and you played with the hem of your shirt.

"Sorry, Rafa, I didn't mean to upset you... I-I don't know much about art, and I didn't want to bother you, and—god, actually, maybe it was stupid of me to just rely on Thomas' words instead of asking you, I'm such a terrible girlfriend—"

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you spoke, but before you could proceed any further, you felt the soft sensation of lips upon yours.

You blinked your tears away rapidly, refocusing to meet his, parting your lips slightly in shock when he pulled away.

"Don't say that, princess." He shook his head, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "You're not a terrible girlfriend. You're perfect, actually, and... I'm partly to blame. It was wrong of me to test you like that... You're right. I should have just asked."

You drew in a breath.

Perhaps, it was because your roles had been reversed today; perhaps, it was because you'd been so anxious to see him again that even the slightest signs of any conflict had you feeling like walking on eggshells. But it was rare for you to see him take the situation at hand so maturely, and it did well for the tenseness in your shoulders to melt away.

He moved his hand back into your hair, soft, gentle strokes, if only to soothe you further away from your worries.

"...Well, actually, maybe we both are a little stupid. I... kind if made the studio messy on my own."

Your ears perked up with that, and you looked at him curiously.

Rafayel laughed.

"It wasn't that bad when I'd finished! And I wasn't lying, I had been neglecting the studio, I just..."

When his voice trailed off, you found the courage to speak again.

"Did you.... Make an excuse to bring me here?"

He smiled, bringing his lips over to the top of your head, another one on your temple, and then another one over the corner of your eye.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I missed you a lot. I guess I just got creative... A little too much, anyway."

His lips were on yours again the next second, soft pecks that made your heart soar with glee. You wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, barely registering the way he'd pulled himself over you, feeling safe under the weight of his body—you liked this. And you missed it, being close with him, having a few moments to yourselves just to revel in each other's warmth.

With half-lidded eyes, he pulled back for air, panting softly over your skin.

"...You really could have just asked me," you whispered, gazing into his eyes and allowing yourself to get lost in them once more.

He let out a soft laugh. "Hm, yeah. Buuuut, maybe I thought this would be more interesting... And maybe, then, you could stay the night, too..."

His eyes flickered closed as he ran his hands through your hair once more, bringing a lock up to his face and letting out a sigh.

"You used that shampoo again."

You faltered slightly at his words, but he pressed you against the couch, capturing your lips into a deeper kiss.

...That shampoo.

You knew exactly what he was referring to.

The last time he'd noticed this scent on you, the way he'd pressed his lips against yours had been anything but innocent—it was one of the first times the both of you had made out together, the hairdryer and towel that had started the whole ordeal then long-forgotten beside you. The mere thought of that night brought an undeniable flush to your face, an all-too-familiar tingling sensation breaking throughout your body.

And you knew what he was insinuating. Even as he continued to kiss you, and even as you felt yourself easily melting into him the way that you would.

His hand began to roam your body, slowly stroking down your sides, making their way to your thigh and inching closer, closer, to the heat of your clothed core—

Your breath hitched.

You couldn't control it.

It was like instinct, whatever this conflict of mind and body really was—

You immediately reached out to grab his wrist, and his reaction was immediate. In an instant, his lips were off of yours, and he froze in place, wide eyes searching yours.

"Shit," he whispered. "Princess, I'm sorry— Did I— Did I go something wrong—"

Though breathless and panting, your lips quivered, and your grip on his wrist tightened.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, you felt him peel himself off of you, sitting up carefully... And you took in a deep breath.

"R-Rafayel, I..."

The waver in your voice and the alarm that had found its way into your eyes weren't missed by him, and you turned your head. "I'm sorry," you swallowed thickly. "I... I don't think i can do this right now..."

You felt feeble and small as you moved to draw your knees up to your chest, almost as if with the intention of hiding yourself away. "I... M-maybe, just... Not tonight...?"

When you sneaked a glance back up at him, you could see it. That glimmer of hurt in his eyes, perhaps just barely there, but more noticeable to you than anything else. You were also made painfully aware of the sun that had set, the studio now darker into the night—a cold draft blew in through the windows and made you shiver, and now, you felt incredibly small.

Rafayel, however, gave you another soft smile, gently moving to sit with your legs over his lap, resorting to holding your hand in his gently.

"Okay," he said.

And it was so simple the way he accepted your rejection, so devoid of judgement, that it made you feel...

Guilty.

Even guiltier than you already were to begin with.

"...I'm sorry, Rafa, I—"

He shook his head, giving your hand another squeeze.

"No, that's... Well, also on me. I should have asked you about this first, too..." The regret in his voice made you want to hit something. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything today. I'll wait until you're ready, princess."

...He'll wait?

Quietly, you moved to crawl back towards him, snuggling into his chest.

This wasn't the first time he had tried to go further with you. That night, after drying your hair, had been one of such times, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to take the next step in your relationship.

In fact, you wanted it just as much as he did.

You've fantasized about it for nights on end, laying on your bed, fingers playing with your clit and imagining how well his hands would have worked you, how well his cock would have stretched you out and filled you up far better than your fingers ever could. You lost count, how many times you'd come undone, alone on your bed, having his name spill from your lips as you did.

You wanted so badly for him to ravage you.

But thinking of it was incredibly different from having the situation at hand right in front of you.

You were nervous.

There were so, so many things that could go wrong from just exposing yourself to him as you would have if you did go that far—just as so, so many things had already gone wrong the last time you had, with other people.

You buried your face into his chest, pressing against him, drowning yourself in his warmth.

"...Are you mad?" You whispered.

"Me? Why would I be, when you're cuddling me like this so tightly?" The playfulness in his voice chased enough of your worries for you to let out a little laugh. "Just so you know... I'm perfectly fine with this."

You shifted, tilting your head to look up at him.

Rafayel gently poked at your nose.

"I can't be mad at you, princess, just because you said no to me. There are other ways for us to be affectionate, and I don't need to have sex with you, you know?"

"...But you want to?" Your voice remained meek, still very obviously wanting to hide yourself back into his shirt. And you would have, if he hadn't pried you away, hands firmly over your arms, leaning down to study your gaze.

"R-Rafa—"

"I want to, princess, but only if you want to. And I need to make that super, suuper clear to you, because I won't be forcing you into anything you don't want. 'Kay?"

His words sent a flurry of comfort into your stomach.

"...But... But what if I make you wait too long? You dislike waiting... A-and it's normal, anyway, right? For couples to have sex? If we don't, then..." As you spoke, you noticed a frown frown gradually form over his face, and you faltered.

"You... You expect me to leave because of this?"

You turned your gaze away in silence.

"Princess... You... May I ask where that's coming from? Do... Do you feel unloved with me? Am I doing something wrong?"

It was like a trigger—the way his voice dropped into a soft whisper, his hands falling back down to take yours in his, lacing your fingers together.

He was so gentle with you.

You felt the unwelcome sting of tears in your eyes, and you shook your head—"N-no," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. "You've done nothing wrong, but... But you're so—so nice to me, Rafayel..."

"...Baby? Of course I'm nice to you! Aren't you my girlfriend?!"

The nickname switch made your heart jump, and you nuzzled yourself further into his embrace.

"...I don't deserve you."

A pause.

You felt as if you could drown in the silence, even though you knew that he was just thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, I just made things worse—"

"...Deserve me? There's... there's nothing for you to say that—princess, that's my line, you know. You deserve everything—every little good thing out there, and so much more than me."

"But—! You—you're so good to me, and I'm—! How many times did I disappoint you? This whole week, and even just now, and—"

You felt yourself sniffling, and Rafayel once again brought you to look up at him. You chewed on your bottom lip, a flash of insecurity in your eyes that made him sigh softly.

"No, no, no... Don't cry, princess... Nothing's going to change just because of this, yeah? You know I love you. And nothing in the way that I love you is tied to... whatever ways you'll allow me to love you. I get it, you know? If you're not ready to go there yet, then that's fine. I promise. I don't make promises without reason, princess."

His gaze, now, was firm, and his words were warm. Genuine—like he always was with you. In the silence that followed, you felt yourself calm down slightly, your breath easing, the tears in your eyes blinked away in your insistence not to cry in front of him.

And more than anything, you found thr conviction in his words to be something you could... Trust.

You took in a deep breath.

"I've... I've done this a couple of times before," you spoke, slowly, quietly. "It's been a while since the last time, but— it's— it's just scary, Rafa."

Your voice trembled, and you hung your head.

"And I feel like it's so silly to be scared of it. It's always so obvious that I am, because I get too focused on trying to relax that I never really do, and then in the end I can only ever make up for it by letting them finish. So I— I don't know. Everyone says that couples always do this, like it's supposed to be a staple... Or else, what are they for, right?"

You let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, but it almost came out as if you were scolding yourself.

"Wait—hold on. You... You've never orgasmed?"

You blinked in surprise this time, looking up at him with a confused frown. "Huh? Only on my own, I guess... Never with them, no, but—"

"Oh, princess..." he began, almost like a whisper. "You've never enjoyed it, have you...? To call it a staple... Gosh. It's not something necessary to maintain a relationship, let's get that out of your pretty head first."

You watched him bring his hand over to the side of your face, a gentle caress.

"I don't know if humans really do think such fickle things, but I wouldn't leave you just because you won't go further with me. I want you to be ready before we go there. Okay? God, who have you been with?! They sound like the worst kind of humans!"

Despite yourself, you laughed at his indignation, watching him fall back against the couch with his arms crossed.

"No, seriously, baby—doesn't it sound wrong to you?! You know, I wouldn't have stopped until you came. In fact, I bet I could make you feel so much better than they ever could—" He paused, ears turning slightly red in telltale embarrassment. "...Sorry. I'll be totally patient, I really mean it. I was just, you know... saying..."

You giggled.

Rafayel was always cute when he was embarrassed, even if just a few moments ago, he'd so obviously reduced you to just a puddle through his kissses alone.

But his words, once again, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When you looked at him, his eyes were as gentle as the waves of the ocean you'd grown to love almost as much as him, and you couldn't help but feel... safe.

You'd never really felt safe before—not with anyone else.

Any time you opened up about this, your previous partners would have scoffed in your face—would have told you there couldn't have been a basis for what you felt, and that there was nothing more irrational than all of these needless worries of yours.

It was silly.

You had always believed that.

Yet you couldn't help feeling the way that you did.

Whenever you experienced sexual intimacy with anyone else, though you had let it happen in the end, you had never... associated it with anything special. Like you'd said, it only ever felt a mandatory part of any relationship. It was like going through the motions, and then you'd find out that you'd been a terrible experience—no matter how pretty they said you were, no matter how much you'd always be told that they were looking forward to it.

You were disappointing.

That was what conclusion you'd come up with, after several times of the same result.

And you always envied your friends, too.

Whenever the topic came up, they'd speak of how magical it was—how sweet, and how loving, and how good it felt... Yet you'd felt none of that. If there was anything good you associated with sex at all, it had been you—by yourself—in your room.

You really didn't know how to reconcile all of these feelings together—

And, yet, Rafayel had been the very first one to let it slide in a way that put your feelings first.

You promised him you wouldn't make him wait...

Yet here he was, adamant on letting you do exactly that.

You looked up at him, again, listening to him guide the conversation elsewhere, talking about how his week had been, and how painful it had been to get that painting done.

"You haven't seen it yet, have you? Hmm... I'm thinking if I should show you. I guess my girlfriend can have early access to it before the exhibition, right...?" He had one hand resting on your back, the other brought up to his chin in thought. "What do you think? Do you want to see it now?"

You stared, silently, as his eyes were back on yours.

That familiar, adorable tilt of his head, the inquisitive gaze in his eyes bringing that familiar shine to it that you loved, loved, loved, so very dearly.

You watched a small smile form on his features, and he pulled you close enough to have your foreheads touch.

"Hey. What's on your mind, cutie? You're spacing out again. Everything okay?"

God. You really loved him.

Even the simplest phrase had the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around almost mercilessly, and if you hadn't known better, you thought you were very likely blushing in that moment.

"Just you," you spoke, softly, quietly, barely even registering that you'd spoken so honestly in front of him before you recognized the look of surprise on his face. "Shit—I mean—"

"Nuh-uh, no take-backs! I like it when you're honest," he cut you off with a laugh, placing a quick peck on your lips.

Though he didn't say anything more on the subject, you knew he was thinking it—even if you'd tease, endlessly, of Rafayel's own clingier habits, you knew that in the end that you could easily eat your own words.

Rafayel was so good to you.

Sometimes you'd think he was too good to you—too good for you.

But admitting it out loud was always so difficult to you; your honesty of your own overwhelming feelings for him often more than you could speak to him yourself.

He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

"Maybe we should go to sleep, yeah? It's pretty late. You've worked hard!"

Slowly, you moved to straddle his lap, and then buried your face into his neck.

"...Princess..."

"...Are you really okay with this, Rafa?"

"Me? I told you, I'm perfectly fi—"

"I just—I could make you feel good, at least..."

Maybe you'd let him consume your thoughts more than you'd intended, or maybe the guilt was simply eating away at you, having never been truly placated. You didn't know which side of emotions you were acting upon, and perhaps, it seemed as if he'd sensed that.

"Baby... No. We're not going to do it tonight. I want you to set your mind straight first."

"But—"

"No buts!"

He lifted you off of his lap, another firm shake of his head. "I want to ease you into this. And that means I won't be taking any pleasure for my own just yet, because I want you to feel good."

"...Wh- What do you...?"

He smiled, before poking your forehead.

"I mean, I want you to be comfortable around me first, before you even think of trying to give me an orgasm." Rafayel gave your hand another squeeze. "I'm hoping I can at least show you that it's not supposed to be a bad experience. So we'll sleep on it first, clear our heads, take things slowly... Then we'll see how things go from there. 'Kay?"

"Rafa..."

"Baby, relax. No rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Rafayel was always so good to you.

Even through your biggest insecurities, there would be no exception.

It had been quite some time since that conversation, and, sure enough, he had been adamant on taking things slower with you. You could feel it, how he'd constantly hold himself back with you. The way he would be sure not to take it too far when he kissed you, always respectfully lifting you off of his lap whenever he felt like it would get too much if you continued...

He took things step by step, just like he said he would. From kisses, to slowly dipping his hands beneath your clothes—You had found, over the past couple of days, how warm his hands were around your breasts, cupping and kneading them like a perfect fit. It was comfortable. And it had become almost a staple to your cuddling sessions over time.

Those nights in his bed slowly, slowly became less than innocent as weeks passed by.

And then one other night, you'd finally gained the courage to let him go even further. His fingers were long, able to reach deeper inside of you than you ever could, and the stretch in your walls felt more than welcome after so long. It was just as you'd fantasized—he'd buried his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, slow thrusts gradually picking up the pace until you were trembling around him, his arms holding you safe as you released. Even now, when you thought back to that night, you felt tingles all over your body. It was the first time anyone had made you cum, the first time anyone had bothered to cradle you in their arms afterwards, the first time anyone had cleaned you up without you having to do it yourself—

You hadn't known that this could really feel so intimate.

So loving.

That Rafayel could ease all your worries away, so... naturally.

It had gotten to the point that you began to notice a boldness in both of your actions—you were growing more comfortable with him, like he'd intended you to, and now, you found yourself gladly on your knees, feeling the drag of his cock against the walls of your mouth.

He'd gotten you to cum from his fingers and his mouth multiple times over the past few days, and you had promised him—promised him—that you were only returning the favor because you wanted to. Because through the past weeks, Rafayel had been gentle with you, and patient—always asking for your consent, never pushing you to do anything you didn't want to, never even giving a thought to his own pleasure as long as it meant focusing on yours.

And this, you thought to yourself with a smile, was now a reward for for him just as much as it was for you.

Your eyes closed as you swirled circles over the tip of his length, taking your time with him as he often did with you. Your tongue ran up and over his cock, wetting him fully becore taking him in again, keening at the way his hips would stutter and his moans would reach your ears in a well-received melody.

"Fuck, yeah—Just like that, princess—" Rafayel's words were broken, his eyes half lidded as he watched you work him. "So good for me, baby—ngh, shit—"

You found his praises go straight to your core, eager to please him, eager to hear more. And in effect, your pace quickened, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, stroking and sucking him with a new hunger. His hands tangled in your hair, the sensation more than welcome as he guided you into a rhythm, hips bucking upwards to meet your mouth.

"So, so good— Feels so good, princess, don't stop—"

Another tug on your hair had you moaning against him, feeling him throb in your mouth at the extra stimulation.

He was close.

Determined to take in the sight, you watched, fondly, as his head fell back into the pillows, the skin of his thigh hot to the touch, your eyes drawn to the way his mouth hung open, his own eyes squeezing shut.

"Shit— M'gonna—! Gonna cum, baby, pleas—"

He arched his back, his hands fleeing from your hair to fist into the sheets beneath him. It hit in an instant, then—the sheer intensity having rendered him silent, mouthing curses, eyes still shut as streaks of cum shot out of him and onto your tongue.

You were familiar with the taste; warm in your mouth, and salty—thick. There was a certain discomfort to it, swallowing every last drop, but it couldn't compare to the thrill of it. Having Rafayel finally cum in your mouth, finally come undone for you... Your eyes locked as you released him with a wet 'pop', licking your lips and then hastily wiping your mouth with a little smile.

"Damn... That was..." He was breathless, chest heaving, barely moving to allow you to climb back up on the bed and reach for the bottle of water on his nightstand. "You're really... Really good at that, princess."

Feeling warm at another word of praise from him, you exchanged the bottle for the washcloth beside it, and crawled over to gently pat him clean.

"...Baby, I can—"

"If you won't let me do it when I finish, then I won't let you, either."

Your gaze was firm, and he laughed.

"Well played. My habits are growing on you, huh, cutie? That's good."

He pulled you up into his arms for a kiss, and you snuggled into his embrace. The heat from his skin was comforting—another thing you'd slowly gotten used to, having your activities now easily practiced without the need for any more clothes on.

"...How are you feeling? Was that okay?" He mumbled into your hair as you buried your face into his chest, lifting your leg over him as if to draw him even closer to you. You nodded quietly, and a soft sigh escaped his lips when you brushed your wetness against his still-sensitive cock. "Princess... Did sucking me off get you all wet?"

You could hear the laugh in his voice, and you whined.

"You— you made me wait to do that!" You protested, and you didn't need to look up to know he had that ever-present smirk on his face. "...I wanted to make you cum, too..."

He only replied with a chuckle, trailing his hand down your back to settle upon your waist. "I know. And thank you, by the way. Your mouth feels heavenly. Did you know that?"

You swat at his arm playfully. "Rafayel!"

"What? I'm only saying the truth! And, anyway..." You squealed when he leaned over to nip at your earlobe, completely sure of how flushed you were in that moment. "You're drenched, so which one will it be? My tongue? My fingers? My thigh?"

When you didn't reply immediately, he gently gave you squeeze. "Or do you want to sleep it off? We don't have to do anything if you—"

"N- no!"

You looked up, pouting, and found that the mirth in his gaze had melted away into one of pure adoration.

"I... I think..." You gulped, your eyes traveling downward to where you rest over him.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You would have been lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about it on a constant—how he would feel inside you. And though you'd thought about it generally before, you found yourself warming up to the idea. Craving it, even, in a way you hadn't before.

You raised your head to meet his eyes again, holding your breath as you moved to straddle him, sliding your folds over his cock gently.

The moan that he let out was music to his ears, but when his hands gripped your waist tightly, you stopped.

"Fuck, wait—are you sure, princess?"

You smiled slightly at that.

Truly, Rafayel had been nothing but gentle with you; nothing but patient.

You nodded.

"I-I mean... Only if you want to? But you just came, right...? S-so, maybe not... Sorry, I don't mean to be needy, you can just—"

"Hey, hey. Deep breaths for me first, baby, yeah? Relax."

Immediately, his hands were rubbing soothingly into your sides, and you fell forward onto his chest, holding him close.

"Don't you worry about being needy with me, I don't think I'm any less needier than you, anyway," he laughed. "I want this. I really want this. But, princess... I need to know that you aren't forcing yourself into it."

You remained silent, only managing a nod.

"Look at me?"

Compliant, you raised your head once more, and Rafayel reached over to thread his fingers through your hair. He smiled.

"Verbal consent, princess. I've given you mine. Now, I need your confirmation before we do anything. Have you decided? Do you want me?"

Your heart swelled in your chest.

You didn't know how Rafayel could be so selfless with you.

None of the others you've been with would ever treat you this way, and it was... new.

It was true, what he said—it wasn't a secret to you how much he wanted you. Though he wouldn't say it, so determined not to make you feel pressured, you'd see it in the way he looked at you. The way he touched you. Even the way he spoke with you—always the more vocal one in terms of clinginess, even though you, yourself, secretly enjoyed his attention.

You'd understood from the start that he was doing his best to stay firm in his self control just for you, and it made you feel warm—Loved. Appreciated.

Even now, as you were sitting on his cock, readjusting your position only to have it poke against your back—he was patiently waiting for your answer. He was waiting for you to be sure about this.

You thought it ironic, almost.

It wasn't as if this was your first time, and yet... you'd never experienced someone be so gentle with you.

With another determined nod, you sat back up, placing your hands on your lap.

"Okay," you said, and took a deep breath. "I'm sure, Rafayel. I want you."

You swore you could feel the way his cock twitched at your words, and couldn't help the way your lips quirked into another smile.

He read your expression, and laughed. "You really drive me insane, princess."

His hands remained firm on your hips, gently lifting you off—"Do you want to stay on top? Set your pace for me?"

"...Um... Do you?"

"Baby, don't turn this back to me! Doesn't matter what I want right now, I wanna make this about you. In case you haven't noticed, I'd be more than happy to take you in any way you want me to."

You almost rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "...Okay, then... I'll try it like this. But, Rafayel, sometimes it's concerning how much you pay attention to my needs..."

"Me? Concerning? Says the one who's had some of the worst sexual experiences on the planet!" He scoffed. "Listen, princess. I say this a lot, but you understand, right? I'm not in this relationship for your body. I'm not using you for your body. I love you, because you're you, and not just so I get to fuck you some day." He paused, then, and you saw a flash of contemplation in his eyes, "...Which miiiight be today, but that's besides the point."

You laughed, this time, and perhaps in any other situation, you'd playfully hit his chest, and tell him to stop being so silly. But the lighthearted atmosphere was welcome, and you felt your shoulders slump in some sort of relief.

"I know, Rafa. I..." You bit your lip, steeling yourself, willing yourself to say it. "I... I-I love you, too."

Immediately, you watched his eyes widen, a certain shine in them that almost could have made you melt.

"...Seriously?" he whispered. "You mean it?"

You flushed at the way he sounded so much in disbelief, despite what you were about to do. But, perhaps, you understood the shock that he displayed. While he would often use the words around you—having made it clear that they were his feelings, and that you didn't have to reciprocate them immediately—you had yet to say it back.

You did love him.

Of course you did.

And you have, for a while now.

But it wasn't easy to speak these feelings out loud; wasn't easy to make yourself so affectionate and so vulnerable around him. At least, not as easy as it has been for him. It had been long established that Rafayel was the more expressive one—though he would tone things down with playful jokes and banter to match your pace of things, you knew that his feelings had been nothing but genuine for you.

And you'd always struggled to make sure that he knew you felt the same, but...

You nodded.

You could do it, this time. Give back all the love that he'd always given you.

Slowly, you reached behind you to guide his cock to your entrance, letting out a slow breath at the feeling of his tip—hot, and wet, and stiff—prodding your hole.

"I love you," you whispered, feeling confident, now, as you spoke.

His fingers dug into your skin as he gasped, finally having you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. "Fuck," he muttered. His eyes closed—you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You feel so... so..."

A loud whine rattled past your lips when he finally pressed all the way inside of you, so big, and so filling, like nothing else you've ever had before.

"Shit," he continued to curse under his breath. "So—so good, baby."

His hands, shaky, massaged your hips in reassurance, eyes opening to reveal a hazy glimmer of lust that you had yet to see on his face before. The image before you made you shiver—every ounce of self control was slowly slipping away from him, and he was trembling with the little bit of patience he still had left in his body.

"M-move," he whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes that made you gasp. "Please, princess—please—can you do that for me?"

Your jaw clenched, and you obliged—how could you resist?

You rocked your hips slowly, at first, getting used to the feeling of him in side you. And, you found—you were enjoying this. Whatever you'd imagined could never compare; he felt good inside you. Every sensation you felt of his cock against your center was pleasurable, every moan that fell from his lips having you swirl your hips with a need to hear more.

You bit your lip when he slowly began to rut his hips up to meet your pelvis, now finding the strength to guide your hips gently up and down his length—

"Fuck, baby, don't hide from me, please," he moaned, eyes locking with yours with an air of desperation. "Haah—Let me hear you—hear how good it feels—'s it feel good, princess?"

You found yourself obedient.

As his tip knocked up against your sensitive spot, a loud moan spilled from your lips—immediately, you rest your hands on his chest as your head hung, feeling yourself bounce to his rhythm, hips moving in sync.

"F-feels good, 'fayel— Ah—!"

"Yeah? Like that, baby? That spot, huh?"

You grinded down on his cock, eyes screwing shut at the sound of your arousal slicking around him. His words guided you through your motions, whisperes of praise and reassurance that had you soaring—and you could feel it. The tightness that had gathered in your stomach, slowly, slowly building into something more—but so far away, so unobtainable, that it had you whining.

"R-Rafayel!" You cried as you leaned forward, burying your face into his chest. Even as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into you, picking his pace up a little and grunting into your ear, you shook your head— "M-more, please— I— I can't—"

"Oh, fuck, princess—"

He groaned when you clenched tightly around him, and with quick movements, he had you lying on your back, caged between his arms as breathless pants fell from his lips.

"I—fuck, baby... Are you okay with this? I'll—Shit— Sorry, I m-moved—"

He'd snapped his his hips back into yours the minute you wrapped your legs around his waist, but when he looked at you, your own eyes filled with a desire that dared to rival his own, he let out a slow breath.

"...Okay?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Please."

Rafayel laced his fingers through with yours, holding them against the pillow. At your consent, he resumed his pace, fucking deep into your cunt with thrusts so precisely rubbing against your spot that you closed your eyes with another loud moan.

"Ah, Rafa—Rafayel, s-so good—"

Any thoughts of holding back your sounds were lost in the pleasure raking through your body, feeling the way his cock would brush against all the right places. So thorough, and so loving—and so, so good.

Rafayel was making you feel good.

Better than you've ever felt—better than your fingers, and better than his, and you thought—

Fuck.

You wished you'd gotten to do this sooner.

"P-princess," he whimpered, hips stuttering as he pressed his forehead against yours, drowning a myriad of moans of your name with the way he kissed you. So needy with his touches, you melted into him like you always did, easily following his thrusts and receiving everything he could give you.

"Princess—are you—are you safe?" he breathed.

You could feel the way he tensed inside you, his hips slowing slightly into a pace that had you whining as he waited for your reply.

"Can I... Can I cum inside? If—If you—"

It almost seemed like he could barely form coherent words, and you smiled slightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck; "I'm safe," you mumbled. "Go ahead, Rafa."

The moan that he let out sent a shiver down your spine, and then his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking—you didn't even mind, anymore, whether or not he'd be leaving marks on you by the time you were done. Groans spilled from his lips between his kisses, and you felt yourself moaning along with him. The pace he'd set picked up, no longer as gentle as you'd started with, but you found that it was more than welcome.

"C-Cumming," you shut your eyes, breathing out his name in endless chants into his hair. "Cumming, Rafa, I—!"

You felt it.

The throbbing of his cock as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt, just in time with your own release. Your nails dug into his scalp as you clenched sporadically around him, throwing your head back with a drawn-out moan of his name, feeling yourself drown in the sheer intensity of it.

"Rafayel—!"

"Fuck—Fuck—Take it, princess— Shit—" He hissed into your neck, pumping his cum into you, moans falling back into whimpers.

A moment passed after, and you smiled contentedly as he hugged you, pulling out of you but still so determined to keep you close to him.

"...R- Rafayel?" You whispered, soothingly stroking his hair. And only then did he look at you.

Your breath caught at his expression.

Tired, undeniably, but so... tender.

"Hey..." he mumbled, slowly moving up to give you a quick kiss. "Can you say it again?"

"H-huh? Say what...?" You felt your face grow even warmer at the mere thought of all the things you'd possibly moaned in the midst of your lust.

But he only smiled. "What you said, earlier. Say that you love me."

A giggle bubbled at your throat, and you pushed him onto the space next to you—

Naturally, he only pulled you back against him, arms wrapping around you, tucking you under his chin.

"C'monnnn, baby. Please?"

It was so hard for you to say no to him like this.

You turned around to face him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Rafayel," you mumbled with a smile.

His expression relaxed.

"...And, thank you. For always making me feel so loved. I've never... I've never thought it could feel like this, a-and..."

"Did you like it?"

"More than liked it! I... I enjoyed it. Really. Thank you."

He grinned, then, gently setting you down on the bed and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Then, mission accomplished! So... Let's clean you up before we sleep, yeah? We can have another round in the morni—"

"Rafayel!"

"I'm kidding!"

⁺₊ / an: holy shit this took an eternity to write??!?!?!! nearly 8k words, what do u know... all this love for the birthday boy, this is an insane amount of special treatment for rafayel fr 🍰

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[calypsocolada]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME | g. tomioka

(this is part two! click here for part one)

synopsis: you left without saying goodbye, giyu needs to know why... author's note: hellllooooo. the reaction to part one of this story was incredible. i cannot thank any of you enough for your kind words seriously. this one is for all of you <3 (psst... to all the swifites, if you can point out two other song references besides rwylm you get a gold star) cw: ANGST (lol like there wasn't enough in the first part), blood, gore, spoilers about rengoku, HAPPY ENDING, not proofread wc: 4.2k

click here for my masterlist

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There was nothing more frustrating than lack of communication. As much as he wished he could read your mind, as much as he begged and pleaded to deaf ears you were just one hard shell to fully crack open. Though Giyu supposed he was probably the same. But at least he was making an effort. He thought you’d make one too. 

But as Giyu sat cross legged at a Hashira meeting he could meet all their eyes but yours. You didn’t spare him a glance like you spared him your time those few weeks ago. Almost a month and a half now and for some reason Giyu couldn’t stop counting the days, the hours and minutes. 

45 days since you knocked at his door. 

1,080 hours since you grabbed him, your cheeks wet as you pressed your lips to his. 

64,800 minutes since Giyu woke up in the morning to an empty bed. 

It never got easier. Each day was like this stabbing pain in his chest. A persistent feeling of desertion. He’d thought things had changed since that night. The night you cried and cried and kissed and kissed. 

He wrote you letter after letter but no response. Now here you were in the same room, in a room filled with others but Giyu only felt your presence. Like a heightened sense that haunted him so stunningly that he wondered if your lack of attention would actually kill him. As if he overdosed on it once and now he’d never be able to wean himself off you.  

You were so close, only maybe three feet from him but you felt worlds away. Could he have done something wrong? Showed too many of his cards too soon? Scared you off? Sure you reciprocated his kisses, in fact you were the initiator. But when it came to a verbal confession there was nothing for Giyu to latch onto. No words, just your actions. But your actions betrayed you. You treated him as if that night never even happened. For 45 days. It was like torture. To want something so badly, to have it for a fleeting moment then lose it. Giyu was losing it.  

“Mr. Tomioka?” Your voice was like a shot of ice through his veins. Giyu blinked the fogginess from his brain and cleared his throat. Your attention was on him. The room is empty. Giyu hadn’t noticed the meeting had ended. Didn’t notice everyone leaving. 

“Hmm?” He forced out, his eyes sliding to yours. Mr. Tomioka? Even before everything you called him Giyu. But now… you addressed him as though he was some stranger. A room alone, a room with you. He could say what was on his mind finally. 

“Did you pay attention in the meeting?” You asked. Giyu stared at you. You were looking at him. After 45 days of starving for your attention he found himself unable to act normally with it on him now. 

“Hmm…? Oh! Uh— yes…” Giyu stuttered out, feeling hopelessly useless. Feeling utterly ridiculous. 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said coldly, turning to leave. 

“Wait-“ Giyu stepped forwards. Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? A talk? An explanation for your icy treatment? You turned, threw him a look over your shoulder. It was like you read his confusion. As if you knew he paid zero attention in the meeting. 

“The training grounds near your house. We’ll meet at sunrise.” You said and then your eyes lingered a second before you turned and left. Giyu found himself stuck still even a couple minutes after you left. Like his legs had forgotten their purpose. In fact, those 45 days he’d been right where you left him. A hopeless, nearly broken man. Stuck back in the time he had you. Haunting his house and his training grounds and everywhere he stood. You seemed to have moved on, seemed to maybe have even forgotten about the fleeting moment. Was that all it was to you? A fleeting moment? Maybe even a severe lapse of judgment? Something like that couldn’t have been a declaration of love. Giyu could and had been thinking himself in circles. He wished he said more. Wished he said less. Ran through everything over and over. Replayed it so often the record was starting to skip.    

Giyu tossed and turned all night. He didn’t sleep even a wink. You wanted to talk. Maybe explain things. Giyu knew whatever it was that kept you so far from him he was willing to work through to find a solution. He was willing to crumble your walls. Or wait. If you’d just verbally ask him to wait he’d pause his life forever for you. He’d become a ghost. Time could come and go on for everybody else but he’d wait diligently for you. He’d wait like the moon and chase after you like the sun. If only you’d just give him a damn reason. 

Giyu turned, the moon shining through a crack in his curtains. His eyes drifted to the empty spaces beside him. The same space he’d left empty since you vacated it. With splayed fingers he touched the spot of his bed and willed himself to remember that night. As if he’d ever forget it in the first place. He was restless so he moved out of bed and to his desk. He pulled out a few letters. Some from Rengoku and some from Kagaya. Both with the same topic. Giyus favorite topic. You. 

Giyu carefully slid open the first letter he ever received from Rengoku. He felt a pang just merely looking at the older man’s handwriting. All jagged and loud. He smiled as he reread its contents. 

-

Good morning Mr. Tomioka!

I was shocked to see you had written to me but pleasantly surprised! I am doing well, how’re you? I heard you are well on your way to becoming the next water hashira! How exciting! I know we’ve only met a few times but you have the demeanor of a water hashira. You seem cool and collected! You have a calm voice and although it’s hard to hear you sometimes I still appreciated our talks! About your interest in my tsuguko; she is doing well. She is very fiery. I could see her becoming the next fire Hashira. She sort of reminds me of you in the way she speaks. Though sometimes I can get her to raise her voice and it’s quite adorable. It would be lovely if you visited her. I’m sure she’d love to see you again after you saved her life. But if you’re too busy that is fine, I can always just write you with updates about her. Maybe I can even try and get her to write you a letter sometime! Anyways, Mr. Tomioka, hope this letter finds you well! 

With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku

-

Giyu laughed at the ink splotch on the paper next to Rengoku’s name. It was a common theme in his letters. Probably wrote sort of hard. Giyu carefully closed the letter and opened the last letter Rengoku ever wrote. 

-

Good morning Mr. Tomioka! 

Congratulations on becoming the water Hashira! The other hashira’s seemed sort of bummed you weren’t able to make it to the little celebration but I knew that kind of thing just isn’t your style so I decided to write you this letter instead. I knew you had a fiery streak somewhere in you! We all do! I have a mission coming up and saw that you have one too! I would like for you to let my tsuguko accompany you on your mission! I think she could use a bit of quiet in her life. She’s always go go go! Just like me! But I think you two could get along very very well, Mr. Tomioka! I think she thinks of you fondly. I once asked her about the boy who saved her and I am pretty sure she blushed! Ha-ha! Don’t be disheartened by her cold attitude, as long as she doesn’t verbally attack you that means you might be in her good graces! She’s come a long way, I see sparks of softness in her that I hope you’ll appreciate. She loves miso soup and sweet potatoes, she gets it from me! She loves to read and can’t get enough of the ocean so be sure after your mission to take her swimming. It could be a date! You think I don’t know why you often write asking me about her, right? I’ll pretend I don’t! She’s not much of a talker like you but she listens and remembers everything you say. That mind’s like a steel trap! Please take care of her and I’ll tell her to play nice though I’m not sure she knows how to! Ha-ha! Only kidding. Be safe, Mr. Tomioka and good luck on your first mission as a Hashira! 

With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku

-

Giyu still blushes as he reads the letter. Rengoku knew Giyu’s intentions even though he was sure he was being discreet. He carefully folded the letter back up and as he did a hint of the rising sun peaked its way through his curtains. He sprung up from his seat. He couldn’t be late in meeting with you so he hurriedly got dressed and tumbled his way out of his home. He rounded the corner to the training field and stopped dead in his tracks. 

You were there. 

You were actually there. 

Your sword clutched tightly in your hand as you swung it to and fro, practicing against a ghostly opponent. Giyu watched you. He blinked for a moment and saw Rengoku, in the way you swung your sword, the way you moved, the way your haori flew behind you, like flames licking the air. Rengoku taught you everything you knew and you applied his fighting style with grace and ease. Giyu honestly had never seen you in a battle. And his breath halted as he watched the confidence in your demeanor. Watched the sure way you’d swing, the velocity and speed. The preciseness. You were definitely Rengoku’s tsuguko. In fact, maybe you were even more than that. Almost like his shadow, his predecessor. And you held that title with grace. Giyu almost felt choked up knowing damn well Rengoku was more than proud of you. 

“Just gonna stand there all day?” You asked, your swing coming through to slice clean through a practice dummy. One half falling to the dirt, kicking up dust. Giyu found himself unable to speak once again as you turned. That attention too much to bear. You hiked up your brow and pointed your sword in his direction. “Well, are you ready to spar?”

“Spar?” Giyu echoed as you nodded your head, walking like a predator towards him.

“Where’s your sword?”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“Why else would I be?” You asked, eyes daring him to mention things you clearly wanted to forget. Giyu blinked through the breaking of his heart. He’d never felt pain like this. Never knew someone could ignite such warmth then douse it in icy cold water. He never thought you of all people would stab him clean through. Giyu turned just as his emotions were too much to hide. He walked and grabbed his sword, waited a moment to try and gather his composure before returning back a few feet from you. 

There was something in your eyes. He knew this sight was probably the last thing every single demon that had crossed you had seen for themselves. Eyes like fire, you morphed in front of his eyes into the flames that danced with your techniques. 

You took the first swing, your movement like the flickering. Your strikes felt hot, as if his skin would sear completely off. Giyu controlled his feelings, he pushed them to the side and met your violence of fire with the calmness of water. Metal clanged, and although you’d killed him moments ago with your words you brought him straight back to life with the way you fought. You’d found yet another thing for him to fall in love with. 

Damn you. 

After several minutes passed and one final swing you both stepped back. It was clear it was a draw. Not a single time did someone pull ahead and leave the other in the dust. Each strike was met with an equal block. You two were an equal match. For a moment you two just stared at each other, dripping in sweat, the sun and heat finally rising. You reached up and wiped your forehead with the back of your arm and sighed.

“So it’s a draw.” You said and Giyu nodded his head. A silent moment passed before you pulled your eyes from his and walked to your stuff. Giyu watched. Watched you pack up your things and give a halfhearted wave to him as you walked back towards the road.

“That’s it?” Giyu called out suddenly. He swore he saw you flinch.

“Either Obanai or Shinazugawa will be here tomorrow for the same match.” You called over your shoulder. The cold shoulder you’d given him for so long. 46 days now. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Giyu took a step but you resumed walking. “What did I do?”

“Have a good day, Mr. Tomioka.” You said and the moment you were out of sight Giyu tore off after you. 

-

46 days ago you’d been laying next to Giyu Tomioka. You’d woke up early and in the morning light you could see his face again. He looked at peace as he slept beside you, his arms around you, his breathing light. You reached across the small expanse between you two and tucked his raven black hair out of his face. Giyu moved barely in his sleep and you yanked your hand away, shy as though he’d catch you admiring him. As though you hadn’t just spent the night together. Once he settled you gazed at him. Something, you knew what it was now, bloomed in your chest. Was this something you could truly have? To kill demons and go home to someone like him at the end of the day? Home… what would that even be like? What would that even look like for you? Slowly you sat up in his bed, covers falling from your shoulders, pooling at your torso. 

Everyone you had ever loved died horribly. You felt as though a curse was placed upon you. Penance for the deaths of your family.

Ever since Rengoku had died there was this thought that haunted you. A sort of prophecy you felt had cursed your very being. No matter how many times you thought about leaving Rengoku there was no way to ever go back and board that train with him. No way to deny his request and maybe even save his life. Would you have been useful or would you have been a hindrance? Would your presence have even changed a thing or were you just destined to love and lose? Your eyes flicked to Giyu, face barely illuminated by the sun rising. 

If you stayed in this bed would you watch him die as well? Just the thought made you physically sick to the stomach. You felt like a kid stuffed into a hiding place all over again. A helpless, useless kid.

If you let yourself love him and be with him, the pain of losing him might actually do you in for good. And if you left right now… would that save his life from the curse placed upon you? 

Turns out you're quite self sabotaging after all. And by morning you slipped out of his house, tearing back towards the inn, running with your tail between your legs.

-

“Do I not deserve an explanation?” Giyu called out to you, you'd almost made it to the end of his house. You paused, turning.

“Leave it.” You answered lethargically. 

“Did you even read my letters?”

“What letters?” You asked and when your eyes found his face the utter pain on it made your stomach drop. 

“I wrote to you… many times. Your crow should’ve delivered it to you.” Giyu explained, his face utterly disheartened. You glanced at your crow, who’d been curiously pecking at some bugs in the distance.

“I never received them.” You answered and clenched your jaw. You deserved to see him hurt. The pain you caused him was something you wouldn’t let yourself look away from this time. Giyu haori swayed slightly in the wind, he couldn’t meet your eyes. 

“Tell me what to do.” Giyu says and you blink at him, your brows furrowing. 

“What?”

“I’ll wait. I’ll let dust collect over my life until you wish to have me back.” 

“I don't want that.” You said with a start. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself back into some composure. “I want you… to… go on ahead.” Slowly Giyu raises his eyes to meet yours. 

“What do you mean?”

“I could never feel the same way you feel for me. So I want you to move on.” You said and kept your eyes glued to him as you said it. You didn’t let one smallest ounce of pain show on your face.

“Why?”

 “Because I’m not worth dying over.”

“I’m not worth dying over, Master!” You screamed, pain coursing through you. You watched Rengoku surpass his limits, a demon pushing him far past them. The same demon that had gotten the jump on you moments ago. The man couldn’t hear you. You stumbled forwards, blood dripping from a wound somewhere on your head, the blood getting in your eyes. You stumbled, losing your footing, your sword clattering against the stones out of your grip. “Rengoku, please! Run while you still can!” You screamed, coughing up blood as you crawled towards the fight. Your breathing labored, black ink splotched in your vision. Take me! You thought hopelessly, take me and not him! 

“Y/n? Come on, kid, wake up.” You blinked awake. Your entire body ached, drowsiness threatening to take hold of you. Where were you just now? You must’ve passed out from the pain. “Ah, there she is.” A blurry redness kneeled beside you as you blinked until you could see properly. “You’re awake.”

“Master?” You coughed as Rengoku smiled down at you. 

“Tough battle, huh? You did great out there kid.” Rengoku said proudly. “You mastered a few of those moves I taught you, it was incredible.” He recounts.

“I-- lost.”

“Hush now. That demon was even tough for me to kill. You did the best you could.” He says reaching for you, ruffling your hair.

“Y-you almost died,” You choked out, Rengoku’s hand paused on your head. “I-- Master I don’t ever want to be a burden to you.”

“You are no such thing.” Rengoku admonishes, giving your cheek a sharp and playfully pinch. You gasp in surprise, rubbing your cheek. “You think too dark sometimes, kid.”

“But-- Master… I’m not worth dying over.” You say, looking down. Rengoku grabs you by the chin.

“You don’t get to decide that. I do. And I decided that you’re worth saving.” He looks at you intensely to get his point across. You part your lips to argue but slowly close them. “Now enough of this, we won, let’s celebrate!”

“What do you mean?” Giyu walks closer to you, his voice has an edge to it. A worried and sharp edge. “Are you unsafe?”

“That’s not…” You trail off, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I’m giving you an out.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Mr. Tomioka-”

“Don’t. Please don’t call me that.” Giyu lamented, his expression pained. 

“You’d be wise to just move on.”

“I can’t. I won’t”

“You can, you should.” You growled. This reminded you so heavily of the night you stormed out of his house and you two fought in the road. You were pretty sure this was almost the exact same place. You gave an inch that night but you were trying desperately to take it back. No matter how much this hurt it would hurt even more if your curse killed him. You had to remind yourself of that. Of the thing that possessed your life. 

“Give me a reason.”

“My past should be reason enough for you.”

“What do you mean? Speak it plainly for me.”

“It’s obvious. I’m fucking cursed, Giyu!” You hadn’t expected it but ever since that night you cried you couldn’t stop. Every little thing made you cry now it was annoying. You cried when you left Giyu in the morning. Cried in your inn. Cried when you arrived back at your empty house, the taste of miso soup and potatoes wrecking your senses. Years and years of it being stored up and the dam broke. You felt like a little kid but there was no way around it. Maybe if you tried being truthful Giyu would leave. “I hid while my family died and because of it I’m cursed. I thought I could move on. Rengoku was like family to me. I let him in. I trusted him. I loved him. I let my guard down and my curse took him. And I-- I won’t let it take you okay so just do me this favor and let whatever you feel for me die.” You forced your eyes to his. Angrily wiped the tears from off  your face and looked at him intensely. “I am begging you.” Giyu looked at you, his eyes scanning your face. He walked and walked forwards until he was directly in front of you. His hands reached out, ever so gently sliding over either side of your jaw, his thumbs wiping the tears from your face. Deja vu gripped you so intensely. He’d done this same thing before. He leaned close, so close your breath hitched in anticipation of a kiss. But he stopped, mere centimeters away.

“You are not cursed.” He lets his words sink in. His eyes staring ardently into yours. Your breathing stopped, like you’d forgotten how. That dangerous beat of your heart started up again. There’s something to be said about someone that will tear themselves apart just to keep away from the one thing that could make them happy. You were the biggest component of that. It was like you craved hurting yourself. Craved punishment for crimes you never committed. Giyu pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You didn’t kill your parents and you have to stop blaming yourself for it.” His whispers as you pull back slightly, looking as though you’d been slapped. He knew it. Giyu knew you. You looked away but he forced your attention back to him. “They saved you because they loved you. You were a child. There’s no sin in that.” He presses another kiss to your face. You should back up. You needed to back up. You… you couldn’t. Giyu’s arms slide around you and you're pulled against his chest in a tight hug. “Rengoku didn’t die because he loved you, he died saving a world that had you in it.” There were the damn tears again. You closed your eyes as they sting you. “You don’t get to choose who loves you and it’s unfair to make decisions for them.” 

Rengoku’s words rang in your head.

You don’t get to decide that.

“I… I won’t make it if I lose you.” 

“Don’t say that. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, look at me.” Giyu pulls back, you tilt your face up, eyes meeting his. “If you don’t want to lose me then fight for me, stop running, I’m begging you.” You looked up at him. There was no point in trying to build walls, not when Giyu always knew a way around them. You spent a long time in your own head. For once… you decided to let someone else make the calls. If even your most self destructive ways didn’t scare him off then it’s obvious that no matter what you did you couldn’t scare him off. 

“Alright.” You intoned softly. The utter hope on Giyu’s face was quick to show. “I’ll stop running.” 

“Promise me this time. Promise I won’t wake up and you're gone.”

“I’m sorry. You deserved better.” You breathed out, guilty.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” He says fondly. You shake your head, eyes rolling.

“You forgive too easily.” Giyu kissed you then. No warning. Just pure want. It was the kiss of someone who’d been counting the seconds you’d been gone. Sickly sweet. Of course he’d forgive you quickly. When he pulled back he pressed his forehead to yours. “Give me your word. That you’ll give us a try.”

“I promise.” You say without hesitation. 

Giyu kissed you again, this time slowly, passionately. He tangled his hands in your hair and you melted. He was going to be the death of you. Though you supposed you shouldn’t think that way. You could settle on him being your near death experience then.

-

When the morning dawned and Giyu opened his eyes for a moment his bed felt empty. He rolled his head to the side and when his eyes fell upon you there was nothing in this world that could’ve been a better sight. He reached and softly tucked your hair out of your face. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his eyes fall back closed, knowing damn well when he woke up again you’d be beside him.

bonus: giyu's letters

-

Dear Y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to only beg for a moment of your time. If you regret what happened days ago then don't spare me your kindness. I long to know what you think. What you really think.

Please meet me at the training yard in two days time.

Giyu

-

Dear Y/n,

How're you today? I do not wish to bother you, I just need you to know that I care. We can forget whatever you want. I will pretend away the feelings I have if you want. Whatever you want it is yours. Just please write me back.

Giyu  

-

Dear Y/n,

I would like to speak plainly for once. I love you. You don't ever have to say it back, I just want you to know. That's all. I will stop bugging you because you do not owe me a thing. I hope you are well. If you need anything don't hesitate to reach out. I can be a friend. I can be whatever you want. Please take care of yourself.

With love, Giyu

-

[yzzart]

hii!! love your work and i appreciate you so much for writing for tom <3 i was wondering if you could write a tom blyth x reader for the interview the cast did of how well the know each other??

An unfair test.

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

summary: do you, Rachel and Josh, really, know Tom?

word count: 1.990!

notes: anon, you don't know how much i enjoy writing these types of interviews and i love you for requesting this! — and i'm serious, I LOVE writing this!

"And today, we'll be competing against each other to see how well we know our friend Tom Blyth!" — You explained, crossing your legs and excited about what could happen.

"And I'm saying…" — Rachel raised a finger up, supporting it in a sign of pronouncement. — "I'm saying that I think it's unfair for Y/N to participate in this!" — She laughed, looking at you and, soon, wanting support from Josh; you took one of the small cards that Tom was holding, which was part of the game, and placed it on your face, holding it.

"I also think!" — Josh confessed. — "Is asking his girlfriend to answer questions about him cheating?" — He asked, jokingly, with his arms raised.

"Not in my world." — Tom mentioned, shrugging his shoulders, looking at the camera and pointing the small white cards towards it.

"Are you afraid of losing?" — Now it was your turn to tease, arching your eyebrows and running a hand through some strands of your hair and returning the small card to your boyfriend.

"Oh yeah?" —Rachel said; while, Tom's hand gently and knowingly held your and the camera captured and focused on the moment. - "Look at this!" — She exclaimed, surprised and Josh's laugh was followed by the camera.

"Alright, let's do it." — Tom continued with an excited tone, moving the pen, which will be used, and reading for quick seconds the question that was on one of the cards. — "First question…" — He placed the card with the name 'Vanity Fair' on his chest. — "…what is my biggest fear?"

Tom looked at you, with a funny look of complicity and as if he was saying "oh, you know the answer" and it was, impossible, to try or contain the laughter. — Receiving looks and attention from Rachel and Josh.

"She knows." — Josh stated, thinking about his possible answer or something that could come to a correct conclusion. — "She definitely knows." — Leaning on the chain, you touched his arm.

"It's kind of funny to look at you and be like, hm, let me guess." — Rachel leaned over, resting her fingers on her chin, indicating a thoughtful pose and appearance. — "Let me guess, you don't wanna die alone." — She laughed. — "Please, Y/N, give me a clue!" — Her head rested on your shoulder.

"Wait, i guess i'm not so sure about my answer." — Tom's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened, dramatically, a little at your words. — "I just think! "— You bit your lip, poking his knee.

"I have a guess." — Rachel turned to her boyfriend, waiting for him to say something or even give the correct answer.

"I think, mine is probably a little bit more shallow, but i think i got a guess, too." — Tom laughed at Josh's comment.

"Mine's the opposite." — Rachel said. — "You have a fear of like open water." — She observed some reaction or at least a simple speck of something new on his face, trying to guess if she was correct, but, she found nothing. — "Okay, you don't."

"What, is that your guess?" — He asked, tilting his head, as if wanting confirmation and certainty, to Rachel.

"Yeah, that's my guess." — She shook her head.

"Okay, Josh?" — Tom asked.

"I was gonna say mountain lions." — He reflected, still not sure if he would really go ahead with this guess and loud, synchronized laughter erupted in the room.

"In what way is this more shallow?" — Your boyfriend questioned himself and looked for a justification, a meaning for that comment. — "I'm curious."

"That's very poetic, in certain words." — You raised his hand in defense.

"I thought you were gonna say something like conceptual." — He referred to Rachel's guess, which failed along the way, and tried to justify it.

"Are you sure about your guess, darling?" — Tom pointed the card, with the answer, at you and he couldn't hide, even biting his lip, the anxious smile and, really, hoping that you would say the right answer. — "Or will it be a concrete answer?"

"You're making me nervous, excuse me?" — Rachel and Josh laughed. — "Definitely snakes." — You replied confidently, looking at your boyfriend and then at the camera.

"Actually, ironically, and that's like my childhood fear…" — He waved his hand. — "…which i've already overcome." — Tom finally turned the little card over so that the answer was visible and being revealed. — "Snakes!"

"The purest irony, that's incredible." — Tom pointed at you, a sign of affirmation. — "And so funny at the same time."

"Yes!" — He turned the card over again.. — "I was afraid of snakes when i was a kid because i saw a lot of Indiana Jones, and i watched a lot." — A scenario of little Tom watching Indiana Jones played in his head, causing a smile to appear on his lips. — "And i feel like this fear transformed me, you know?"

"Because cool people can be afraid of snakes." — Rachel added.

"Because cool people are afraid of snakes." — Tom agreed.

"And the fact that on set, we had two snakes, and you had to act with them for one part, is impressive." — Tom once again placed his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly.

"But, i'm not afraid of them anymore." — Maybe, a little, but, he wouldn't say at that moment. — "I've had a lot of therapy, honey." — You laughed. — "That's my biggest childhood fear, like, it's the first thing that would come to my mind if you asked me that."

In the future, during the editing of the video, a scoreboard with your name, Rachel's and Josh's would appear at that moment and with each one's score. — And you would be ahead, even with your colleagues' comments about how unfair it seemed that you were winning. — Indeed.

"Next question!" — Tom warned, holding up another card. — "Who is my ideal dinner guest?" — He looked at you again as you thought of yet another answer or possible guess.

"Normally, i would say, but, anyway." — You shrugged, pretending to be thinking about something and got laughs in the room, including from the people who were working behind the cameras; Rachel rested her hand on your back, still laughing. — "This is difficult even for me."

"That's my first and foremost answer!" — Tom stuttered confidently, lifting the paper carefully so that the answer wasn't visible. — "But, let's consider a second option."

"I'm going to say Francis Lawrence…" — Rachel suggested, slowly, and focusing on the main camera in front of her. — "…director of The Hunger Games." — You laughed. — "And to be fair, we'd all have him as a special guest, and he's the best guest."

"He's a great dinner guest." — You mumbled. — "I think he could easily be my guess."

"Oh, mine too." — Rachel positioned herself. — “And i feel like you, that's your ideal, someone who can talk about wine and loves food.” — She paused, thinking about her words and acting as if she said something. — "Y/N could fit that description like a shame, now that i see it." — Her voice swore, and turning her head towards you .

"I was going to say that now!" — Josh said, crossing his arms. — "My guess, which i feel is terrible, is going to be Cyndi Lauper, you know." — He uncrossed his arms, resting one of them on his leg and Rachel hugged the other.

"Okay, okay." — Tom turns the paper to the camera. — "I think it would be David Bowie." — God, you would never get that right.

"I swear he didn't cross my mind for a second." — Your head shook in denial, and in disbelief.

"Me too, i wouldn't understand that." — Josh looked at one of the cameras and Rachel moved one of her hands, a little in disbelief and intrigued.

"What it is, i just think it would be really fun." — Tom tried to justify. — "Okay, so, we have no points for Rachel and Josh and…" — He acted out a movement like they were playing a drum. — "…one point for Y/N."

"We are terrible." — Rachel confessed to her boyfriend. — "Terrible."

“And i feel like she can get another point now.” — Tom read the question quickly, before looking at you, who furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"Really?" — You questioned, shook your leg and the british nodded.

"What's my go-to karaoke song?" — He read it and, in the same second, he started writing the answer and thousands of songs ran through his mind; one after the other.

The last karaoke night where you and Tom were present was recent; and, magically, incredible to the point of completing an album of photos and videos in your gallery. — However, it was clearly impossible to conclude what his favorite song was. — And it wasn't an exaggeration or anything like that.

"And you saying i was going to get this one right." — Your complaint passed through the ears of your boyfriend, who showed an incredulous expression.

"Our last karaoke night was, like, two weeks ago?" — Tom didn't remember, and he remembered few things. — "I think, i'm not sure."

"I'm not going to karaoke with you guys" — Rachel's soft voice introduced. — "And i need to start going." — She turned to Josh and you.

"I don't think you sing." — Josh looked up as he spoke.

"He actually sings." — You answered him. — "And he dedicates himself like no one else, a true spectacle."

“I will say it was definitely a punk rock thing.” — Josh's guess entered his mind, and he thought about agreeing with it. — "Something like."

"I would say that a chorus of a Spice Girls or Backsteet Boys song with your voice crossed my mind, but i don't want to consider it as a guess right now." — You placed your hand on your mouth, laughing at the fictional scenario.

"And i would say i don't know what to say." — Rachel murmured. — "Serious."

"I'll give you a hint, it's probably not what you'd expect." — Tom tried to help, but nothing came to her mind.

"I guess that didn't help, dear."

"Mambo number five…" — Josh suggested, speaking quietly, but sure of his guess.

"Josh's mambo number five, what's your guess?" — Blyth directed the small card towards you and Rachel, waiting for your response.

"Any of backsteet boys." — You didn't even specify any of the group's songs, and you wouldn't even have time to choose them; it was as if all their names had disappeared from your consciousness. — "Any one."

"I'm gonna say…" — Rachel thought.

"No, i'll change mine to All the small things." — At the last second, Josh changed his guess and you thought about changing but decided against it.

"All the small things, okay." — Tom pointed out.

"I'm going to say 'I miss you' by Blink 182." — Rachel said with certainty, as there weren't many options due to the lack of opportunities to attend singing nights.

"Wow, it's really the 2000s." — He separated some cards on his lap before turning to the question. — "The answer is, somewhat surprisingly…" — For the third time, Tom turns over the paper with the answer. — "Senhorita by Justin Timberlake."

The disbelieving and doubtful reactions and expressions on your faces were met by Tom's warm and loud laugh. — None of you expected that song. — And you don't remember him singing it.

Or, simply put, that memory was in the back of your mind.

"No chance, not possible." — You said intrigued, looking at your boyfriend and shaking your head in denial, for the second time.

"I don't remember you singing that." — Josh also tried to remember or have some memory with the mentioned song but nothing happened, he didn't remember either. — "Serious."

"We sing!" — Tom insinuated, pointing at you and Josh, who looked at each other and still don't remember the moment; that is if it really existed and he sang that song. — "Because Y/N mentioned Backsteet boys, we can put at least half a point." — Therefore, your name would have a new punctuation, even though it was small and not very valid. — "And she continues ahead!"

"Oh, i give up." — Rachel and Josh spoke at the same time, holding their hands up and laughing loudly.

[amourcheol]

filmbro-zoned (teaser)

❝Who knew all it takes is a hot girl with top-tier taste for a man to admit he's wrong?❞

g e n r e : college! au, fluff, crack, suggestive

w o r d c o u n t : 1k for teaser (approx 20k words for full fic)

s u m m a r y : self-proclaimed movie mastermind chwe vernon minds his business—whether that be avoiding the popular, problematic kids in his college to reducing customer interest in his parents' film store. his plan of isolation, however, is completely destroyed when you, a seemingly insane disney fan, slams his perfect movie taste and ask for his help to take down an evil ex.

w a r n i n g s : loosely inspired by watching the detectives, film major! vernon who owns an outdated film store, mc is the baddest (but also the craziest) bitch in this fic, vernon is a loser, film major! mingyu who will be violated many times in this fic sorry king, mentions of many filmbro films which will also be violated, self-indulgent mentions of some of my favourite films, kissing, mentions of sex but no actual sex because im fearing god today, barbenheimer reference <3

p l a y l i s t : if you're too shy (then let me know) by the 1975 || q&a by seventeen || wonderful women by the smiths || confidence by ocean alley

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @hiraethmae @lllucere @intoanothermind @kokoiinuts

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : who would have thought i'd be writing a college au huh...alice will never let me live this down...also guys once again so sorry for constantly posting this hopefully i have found a way for the loophole...let us see if this teaser gets shown in the tags...

“WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON WOLF OF WALL STREET, AMERICAN PSYCHO, PULP FICTION…FIGHT CLUB, SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, SCARFACE…”

You squinted at the list, finding the names neverending. “Jeez, this list keeps going, huh?” 

He could not help the scoff. “And you called me a Filmbro.” He set his forearms on the counter, locking his hands together. “What do you need these movies for?”

“They’re for my ex-boyfriend.” 

The term had him pausing. Of course—the ex-boyfriend. How has he heard of this man, but not know a thing about him? Shit, he did not even know your name.

“This ex of yours has an…interesting taste,” he said slowly. “What’s he like?”

“I can tell you he attends the same college as you. Well, us,” you clarified, jerking your head towards the college colours of your server’s hoodie. “Film major. Just like you, actually.” 

“Oh?” Small world. “What’s the name?”

“Kim Mingyu. Do you know him?” 

Vernon Chwe nearly shit his oversized jeans.

A hesitant nod of his head. “I have a few classes with him.”

“Oh?” Your stare was a little more intense now. “What do you think of him?”

Right. 

Another fated question—the people around him had to stop asking him such controversial questions, or else he was bound to piss someone off. You were already letting him off the hook too many times; one more judgemental comment, and he was having that Princess movie set smashed on his head.

Kim Mingyu. Fuckass Kim Mingyu. Film major—just like him. One of the most popular boys in the year—very unlike him. All the teachers love his essays, all the girls love his freakishly-perfect six-pack, which Vernon is extremely irritated (and devastatingly intimidated) by. 

What all these people failed to realise, though, was that Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his university—and the planet, if dramatics were in order. If you thought that Vernon was a filmbro, then Mingyu was Filmbrother. Filmcomrade. Filmnemesis. 

It was as if you could hear the thoughts churning in his head. “You can be honest, you know. He did dump me at the end of the day.” A smirk began to appear. “Say your worst.”

The reassurance did not help. “I mean,” he started, swiping your card, “He’s okay? I haven’t talked to him enough to have an opinion on him.” 

A half-truth—that should suffice. 

But because the fates like to shit on his head every now and then for kicks, they decided to leave you unsatisfied with his answer. “Or, you can keep lying!” 

Excellent intuition, really. “I’m not!” he exclaimed, slapping the card back on the counter. “I really don’t know much about him.”

The big man upstairs was testing him even further, when, with a determined gaze, you set your elbows atop the surface. You leaned closer, tilting your head to the side as you inspected him, and Vernon blinked back at the sheer lack of space you had created. His mouth twisted, eyes frantically darting at the features of your face, not quite taking in the entirety of your being. Your vision seemed to work perfectly, because it caught the slight flush at the tops of his cheeks, where it was just pale skin seconds before.

Your smirk deepened. “Judging by your blush, you’re either terrible at lying…or,” you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, “You’ve never had a hot girl this close to you.” 

Fuck everything and everyone, because that only made him blush more furiously. You could not help the chuckle that escaped, deciding to cease torturing him and take your card. “I’ll not say the answer, Mr. Filmbro, but I think you already know.”

Since he had no plans of turning into a human form of a ketchup bottle, he evaded the topic entirely, instead focusing on interrogating you. “You still haven’t told me how Mingyu is related to the movie list you made.”

That seemed to hold your interest. “Oh, of course!” Putting the list back into your bag, you began, “Well, the list holds my ex-boyfriend’s favourite films. I wanted to know your opinion on a few.”

He could not contain his sigh. Oh, he had an opinion on these films that you mentioned. Again, he would rather be buried with his thoughts on the specific genre than ever tell you. The curiosity, though, was eventually going to eat him alive.

So much for minding his business.

“I mean…” he began to think, trying to find the right words. “I don’t mind them? Godfather is a good film, but I’ve seen better from Brando. I like American Psycho, but again, people tend to miss the point of the movie.”

As you nodded, listening to his two-cents on the movies you mentioned, he paused, furrowing his brows. “Why do you care about my opinion?”

You smacked your lips together, folding the list back. “I don’t know much about you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, “But you don’t run a filmstore without knowing a thing or two about the films you sell.”

“So?” He crossed his arms atop the counter. “Shouldn’t you have asked the guy who you made the list about?”

“Trust me,” you said, your smirk turning more into a rageful flash of teeth, “I know exactly what he thinks of these films.”

Don’t particularly know what to make of that comment. “Well, I don’t know what my opinion for these films is going to help you in any way.”

“It has helped.” You paused then, waiting to see if he would egg you on, asking how his seemingly tame opinions would play into the grand scheme of things. “All part of my master plan.”

Master plan? Vernon may have been interested before, but he was certain that, before, he could have hid it without letting you catch onto it. In a sudden flash, though, as if his mouth was beyond his control, he regrettably slipped out the words which had you smiling more than he would have liked.

“What master plan?”

He almost closed his eyes. Shit. Now I’m fucking invested.

The corners of your mouth, lifting upwards, had him almost nervous. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

[joelmillergirl]

Illicit Arrangement- Joel Miller

Part 2 of Forbidden From You

Word count: 2,762

Warnings: anal play, threats of anal, bondage, clothed cock riding, cockwarming, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, degradation, praise, hard sex, reader is able to be picked up!

Authors Note: So many people asked for a part 2, so I delivered. Thank you!! Tags: @emisprocrastinating @macaroni676 @sunsfrend

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Whoops." Joel muttered, gesturing to the front door where his younger brother had finally come to the realisation.

A year had passed since Tommy had found out about your secret arrangement with his older brother. He had successfully avoided you for two weeks in what you assumed was anger but had later found out was actually mortification.

You had cornered Tommy in his own house, almost in tears, as you demanded an explanation and begged for approval. After a long, awkward conversation, Tommy agreed that he was in no place to be upset and that he did support you; it was just not in his cards to find out the way he did.

The secret had come out; practically everyone knew now about the relationship you had with Joel, or lack of thereof. You weren’t an official couple, yet you might’ve well have been. Joel refused to label what you had- a decision he made that drove you to insanity. One night, he had come home visibly annoyed, mumbling under his breath about his brother.

“You see, Joel.” Tommy slurred, slapping his hand on his brothers’ back. “I’ve known her for years, she’s like my little sister, like my little chick.”

Joel frowned, leaning away from Tommy to look at him, “Your… Chick?”

“It’s a baby bird,” Tommy clarified before continuing, “I told ya to keep away from her, your broody self compared to her sweet self… didn’t want you breaking her heart. But you’re together now-“

“Uh, we’re not-“ Joel tried to argue.

Tommy held up his hand, silencing an angry looking Joel, “You’re together now, and I have to accept it. Don’t break her heart, Joel.” His tone, previously lighthearted and slurred, now changed into a more serious tone, “I’ll never forgive you if you hurt her.”

Guilt had seemed to become an overwhelming part of your days, always questioning Joel's moves, wondering whether or not he wanted you for sex or something deeper. You confided in Maria about it but felt even guiltier when you questioned whether or not she'd tell Tommy about it as well.

You were sitting outside with Joel, a glass of rich wine in your hand, as the sun started setting, the final colours of the day painted across the darkening sky, a mixture of orange, pink, and light reds. Not many people came out this time of day; everyone in their houses were eating, or debriefing after a day of patrols. A picture-perfect environment for you.

Joel was silent next to you, his breath coming in slowly, his eyes closing for a few seconds longer every time he blinked, pure serenity. "What are we?" You break the silence, asking the question you had yearned to ask for months- a question you knew he'd try his best to avoid.

He sighed deeply, finishing his drink in one go, electing to stay staring at the sky. "Must we label it?" He finally answered, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

You lean back, closing your eyes for a moment. "I want there to be a label. I don't know how to... be around you, what to refer to you as."

Joel listened to you, watching as the painted colours slowly started to fade, a dark new colour instead enveloping the sky. "Honey, I just don't understand the label thing." He admitted, "Why can't we just be what we are and leave it at that?"

"I wanna be more." You say, clutching onto the glass a little tighter, "It'll be just like how we are right now, but I'd get to call you my boyfriend. Flaunt you a little, I don't know." You mumble, sighing.

Joel chuckled quietly, "That's what you wanna do? Flaunt me? How entertaining, a young woman flaunting about her old boyfriend. Bet Jackson would be delighted."

You furrow your eyebrows, turning to face him. "Is that why you haven't wanted to be official? Because you're embarrassed you're with someone younger than you?"

The air around you was stale, your question lingered in the silent air for a few seconds. Joel shook his head slowly. "More so embarrassed for you. You don't wanna be stuck with me. Plenty of fellas here younger, more agile."

You stand up suddenly, needing to move only a step until you were right by his side. Your nails brushed against his beard, the usual deep brown now tainted with little grey streaks. "Don't want them. You're only a few years older than me, Joel... I don't want anyone else."

Joel looked up at you, his fingers stretching out from where they lay on his lap, "Just me?"

"Just you." You nod, leaning down to kiss him. Your noses brushed against each other for a second, before you twisted your face, connecting with him as your lips met. One kiss, then two, then three. The soft touches slowly turning into something more desperate.

He stood up, his lips never leaving yours as he wrapped his hands around your ass, lifting you up. "Yep," He chuckled, walking you into the house, "Definitely gettin' old."

He took you up into the bedroom, a place you were familiar with now. You were imprinted in everything, your scent on the pillows, your books on the bedside tables, bits of décor from your house (that you still technically lived in). Joel placed you down onto his bed, standing up straight as you began stripping your clothes, pushing yourself up onto your knees as Joel stood at the foot of the mattress, watching you. Bare and vulnerable, you knelt in front of him, your hands cautiously reaching out to his belt.

He grabbed your hands when you were close enough, shaking his head. With his free hand, he loosened it himself, pulling it out of the loopholes all whilst holding steady eye contact with you. With his belt in one hand and your hands in his other, he stepped a little closer, wrapping the belt around your wrists, effectively tying your hands together.

"Tight?" He asked, looking at you softly.

You shake your head, "Perfect."

"I'm gonna have you, little girl. All for myself, you understand?" He asked, pushing you back so you lay looking up at him. You could only nod, his words sending a spark down to your already aching cunt, a wave of arousal accumulating near your entrance. His shirt was taken off first, haphazardly thrown onto the floor beside him, followed by his jeans and eventually his boxers. His cock was already hard, the tip red and glistening with pre-come.

Your legs automatically spread as he knelt between them, the wide length of him causing your legs to part in a way that had your muscles struggling. He carefully moved your bound hands above your head, pressing down on them to indicate not to move them before his hand moved to gently grasp your thigh, squeezing it before he dragged his cock down the slit of your pussy.

The stretch was something you had gotten used to, every time he filled you up there was still some slight discomfort that lingered for a moment before he started moving. He talked you through it every time, whispering in your ear and massaging your skin as he praised you. Tonight the air was different. Once he was settled deep inside of you, he began fucking you, his hips connecting to your skin roughly, the power behind it shoving you further up the bed.

His hands met your tied ones, using them to keep himself up, his grunts reaching your ears over your loud moans. "Don't know what I was thinkin'." Joel muttered, looking down at where you were connected, his balls now slapping against your ass. "I've ruined you, couldn't take another dick after mine, could ya?"

"No." You moan, your eyes shutting closed as his hand moved from your hip down to your clit, circling it gently. Joel watched you intently, his thrusts not ceasing as he grunted above you. Suddenly he grabbed your legs, pushing them up to your chest, sliding deeper inside you.

He looked down again, suddenly groaning out. "Look at ya takin' me," He whispered, "Think you could take me in here?" His fingers circled your asshole, gently pushing the tip of his thumb inside. "I won't do it, not yet."

His consistent thrusts and the slow drawl in your ear set you off, your orgasm hitting you without warning. Your clenched around his cock, your arms straining above your head as you came, words of approval spilling out of your mouth. Joel slowed his thrusts down, slowly fucking into you now as he grew closer to his own orgasm.

"So good." Joel whispered, pulling your legs to wrap around his waist as he came, pushing himself into you as far as he could, moving down so he could kiss you. After untying your hands and cleaning you up, you lay side by side. Similar thoughts running through your minds as the still environment around you calmed you down.

The new arrangement between you and Joel was noticeable, you were the main talk of the town. You now held his hand and kissed him in public, and apart from the overdramatic gagging that came from Tommy, no one had a problem with it.

One evening, you were sitting at Jackson's lively bar, waiting for Joel to meet you after his patrol. You were drinking your drink when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

"Mikey." You say, praying that you got his name right.

Mikey nodded, gesturing to the seat next to you, "Good to see you again. Could I sit?"

You slowly nod, watching him as he sat down, "You can until Joel gets here, just waiting for him."

"Yes, I'm kinda here to talk about him... And you," Mikey said, "You guys are dating, right?"

His question didn't surprise you, whilst no one seemed to care you were dating Joel, people still went out of their way to ask, usually a neutral expression on their face. A judgemental expression was instead plastered across the mans' across you, "Yep." You nod.

Mikey hummed, looking away for a moment. "Isn't he a bit old?

You smile, "Only a few years older than you and I. Don't really see the issue."

In a room full of people you really felt alone, you looked around, trying to find a face that was familiar enough to go to. Mikey hummed beside you, tapping his fingers against the wood for a few seconds. "Guess I'm just wondering why you chose him and not me. As in, did I do anything?

Your lips pull into a thin line, "It has nothing to do with you. Tommy set up that date not knowing that... I wasn't interested."

Just as Mikey was about to reply, a warm hand was placed on your shoulder, "Mikey." Joel greeted, squeezing your flesh gently. "Gonna go home, honey?'

"Yes, "You quickly say, taking Joel's hand as you stand up, "Bye, Mikey." With Joel hanging onto you, you quickly walk out the bar, mumbling under your breath as you navigate your way back to his house.

"What did he want?" Joel asked from behind you, pulling on your hand slightly in an attempt to slow down your fast paced strives.

You shake your head, "I didn't want to go on that date in the first place with him. Just wanted to get Tommy off my back."

Within a few minutes you were at his front steps, and you made your way inside, finally letting go of Joel's hand as you shrugged off your coat and boots. Then, you were being steered into the living room, where the embers of last nights fire were still glowing. "Was he botherin' you?" Joel asked, sitting down beside you on the couch.

You look over at him, his jeans straining against his thighs as he leant back against the soft material behind him. "Asked if we were dating," You start, "Asked why I chose you instead of him."

Joel nodded slowly, holding his gaze with yours, "And?" He asked, elaborating when you stayed quiet, "Why did you choose me instead of him?"

You started thinking about him; really thinking about the things that made him, him. Innocent thoughts at first, as simple as the crease in his forehead as he laughed, or the way he fiddled with his fingers when he was anxious. But naturally, you started thinking about the dirtier thoughts. The way his fingers curled inside you, how just one of his fingers were the equivalent to two of yours. How he moaned when you were taking him in your mouth. The thoughts had you tightening your thighs together, something he picked up on quickly.

"C'mere." He muttered, spreading his legs a little wider and angling his pelvis up slightly, patting his lap.

Your cheeks flushed pink, hesitantly kneeling up before you brought one of your legs over his furthest thigh. Impatient at your slow pace, Joel's large hands grabbed your hips and suddenly pulled you so you were sat flush against him, effectively straddling him. The contact alone felt heavenly, the feeling of his growing cock below your cunt. Your hands reach out to grab his broad shoulders, shifting up gently before moving back down on him.

“Yeah? You wanna ride my cock like this?” Joel asked gruffly, leaning up and wrapping his arms around your back. With this new angle, he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your soft skin gently. You moan, tilting your head to the side to allow him more access, all while starting to move your hips against him. 

“Want to feel you inside me.” You sighed, leaning your chest against his. Joel’s hands moved up and down your body, squeezing the flesh of your ass before coming to palm your clothed breasts, his lips leaving small kisses anywhere he could reach in his position. You lifted your hands, tugging your shirt off, soon followed by your bra.

You grinded against him, the rough material of his denim mixed with his hard cock hitting your clit with every thrust. Joel's hands moved to your hips, rocking you harder against him. He groaned into your ear, his hips moving upwards in their own accord. You sat up straight, leaning back onto his knees as he moved you.

Your orgasm was creeping up on you, your legs beginning to shake as you freely moaned, desperate to come. Then you were being pulled up away from him, your orgasm gone as quick as it had started, you groan in frustration, "Joel! What're you doing?"

He sat up and helped you stand up, undoeing your jeans, shoving them down your legs. You moved his hands away, taking off your own underwear as you watched you. "Please." You begged.

Joel looked at you calmly, pushing his jeans down to his ankles and pulling himself out of his boxers, gesturing for you to straddle him again. "Wanna see how long you can sit-" He gripped your hips and pulled you down, dragging his cock through your slick before pushing inside of you, "Still." He finished, allowing you to sit down on him as slow as you needed.

Once you were sitting down, completely filled with him, Joel squeezed your flesh, flexing his hips into you for a moment, "Don't move." He ordered, slapping the side of your thigh gently as he leant back, exhaling deeply. You looked at him unamused, resting your hands on your thighs. Joel smiled beneath you, opening his eyes slightly, "'S okay, baby. Doin' good." He praised you, moving his hands up your thighs, lingering on your hands for a second before moving up, and squeezing your breasts.

Joel slowly started moving, flexing his hips into you, the sensation almost becoming unbearable. Yet, you stayed still, instead choosing to clench around him, a wicked smile on your face. He groaned loudly, thrusting up into you roughly as he opened his eyes fully, shaking his head at you, "Little minx."

"Please." You beg again, despite everything, you continued to be still on top of him. Joel shifted, placing his feet square onto the ground and putting his hands under your ass before he started fucking up into you, setting an unforgiving pace instantly. The change from nothing to this, took you by surprise, and you reached out to grab his shoulders to balance yourself as Joel maneuvered you to meet his thrusts, bouncing you on his cock.

Given the fact that Joel had denied you an orgasm already, you were close to another in a record time, your thighs clenching around his. You were moaning in his ear as you came, your pussy clenching down on him. Joel followed soon after, pushing into you weakly, "Good girl." He groaned, rubbing your back gently. "That why you chose me?"

[yaeggravate]

could capitano be anfortas alberich?

it's more likely than you think 👍🏽✨️

arguments in favor of anfortas = capitano:

capitano's potential constellation could be the three nails which is a reference to jesus' crucifixion. i honestly can't picture this constellation belonging to any other harbinger unless sandrone's ruin guard is carrying some heavy bagage.

anfortas is named after the fisher/sinner king from arthurian legend, he is usually portrayed as a jesus-like figure in more modern adaptations, due to his never-ending suffering. he was also stabbed with the holy spear in the same side as jesus during his crucifixion.

in the poem the waste land by t.s. eliot, he associates the fisher king with the tarot card the three staves. in some tarot decks (most notably thoth which is pictured below), the three staves are positioned exactly like the three nails

anfortas' fate is currently unknown, as he is khaenri'ahn it's not unreasonable to assume he could've survived for 500 years

his relative kaeya was conveniently present when varka's letter about capitano was being read in an event about lost family members

according to varka, capitano hides his face so no one can know his identity and origins. anfortas was part of the schwanenritter which is a reference to the swan knight legend, where the knight had to conceal his identity, name and origins

varka says capitano is an ordinary mortal with the courage to go up against gods which is basically khaenri'ah's motto

capitano's helmet has a makeshift 8-pointed star on it which is usually associated with khaenri'ah (tbf 8-pointed stars can also be found in other places, such as the adventurer's guild, the hexenzirkel and now natlan.)

capitano has blue eyes and so far every khaenri'ahn character we've met has blue-ish eyes with the exception of arlecchino who is descended from the crimson moon clan

anfortas and capitano are both commanders: anfortas was the knight marshal of the schwanenritter (and temporarily became regent of khaenri'ah), capitano is thee captain, the highest ranked harbinger

anfortas' personality is unclear so we can't really compare it to capitano's. BUT what we do know is that he temporarily filled in as regent when irmin was unavailable. he also executed his own comrade after they committed treason by sabotaging a machine yet he still gave them a proper knight's funeral. this could allign with the absolute righteousness and honor capitano is known for

capitano is highly praised and respected within the fatui and the same can be said for anfortas who was close enough to the king that he could petition him and whose subordinates believed in him until the end

An Abandoned Letter... I often think lately about how future generations will tell my story. Will I be a sinner? Or a hero... The situation here is dire, but I believe that our Marshal will find a way. I believe...

the author of this letter wondering if they'll be seen as sinners or heroes and believing anfortas will save them fits pretty well with the three nails constellation, a symbol of salvation and redemption

(there's some interesting irony in anfortas' name meaning infirmity (weakness/illness), which is the opposite of capitano being a strong man. capitano's commedia dell'arte counterpart was a braggart who only boasted about his strength.)

capitano is now in natlan. for some reason, kaeya's hidden strife letters are filled with fire imagery. kaeya's dad says the alberich clan "should lead lives as those who blaze like fire rather than those who wallow in the embers", which is reminiscent of the "secret" the pyro archon shares/will share with the traveler according to the travail trailer: "the rules of war are woven in the womb: the victors shall burn bright, while the losers must turn to ash."

*update: natlan is right next to one of anfortas' ruin golems and in a new world quest we find out there were two khaenri'ahn knights in natlan who were ordered by someone highly respected to stop the abyss from spreading. based on context clues their superior is likely anfortas. perhaps anfortas also ended up in natlan and something happened to him there

**update: the schwanenritter were most likely part of the black serpent knights, khaenri'ah's royal guard, since one of the schwanenritter used the same model as a black serpent windcutter. isn't it convenient then that capitano is dressed as a black serpent with those black scales and visor in the triangular shape of a snake's head?

arguments against the theory:

anfortas lost his left eye, while capitano is said to have dark blue eyes plural. however, it's unclear if anfortas literally lost his left eye or was merely blinded. he could have also grown back the eye cause idk khaenri'ah genes/abyss goo/bald

three harbingers from khaenri'ah seems a bit overkill. (though you could argue we already have three harbingers from snezhnaya: childe, pulcinella and pantalone.) we don't have any harbingers from natlan (or liyue), and currently capitano seems like the most likely option. however, knowing hyv's colorism, it could be columbina instead. according to the harbinger wheel columbina should be arriving after arlecchino, although we haven't seen her in any of the trailers yet. (all hope for brown-skinned capitano is not lost if he's related to kaeya though!)

since anfortas is the "fisher" king and ended up with one eye, he could be kaeya's "pirate" grandpa or even his dad and i'm not too confident hyv is gonna imply capitano had a lover with kids unless he gets signora'd lol. on the other hand, arthurian anfortas was famously saved by his nephew, which could mean our anfortas is kaeya's uncle.

***update: capitano can use nightsoul which is exclusive to people from natlan. however, the traveler can also use phlogiston (though no word on nightsoul yet) and mavuika senses an "unusual presence" inside cap which could explain his powers

[biibini]

Hiii! I love your hcs! Can I request a scenario of going on a date to an arcade with Mizu? (and possibly winning her a Snoopy plushie??)

fluff modern!mizu x reader at an arcade date (request)

tags: fluff, arcade date, modern!mizu, reader & mizu are already dating, date nights, snoopy reference, sweet kisses, author loves love, author wishes that was her with mizu,

a/n: thank YOU for reading my hcs! that one mizu & snoopy post is so adorable i just want my girl to be happy :,) also i’m starting school AGAIN i can never catch a break w this damned quarter system

modern!mizu & u are already dating in this scenario

but every other week would be a date night

it didn’t matter if it was a simple or extravagant date

it was always a designated time to catch up, spend quality time together, and experience new things

even with the busyness of college and classes and homework, it was still a night to look forward to

this upcoming friday was a night at the arcade

u had been there with friends before but it had been a couple months since ur last visit

it wss also mizu’s first time going to the arcade w u as a date

u had already talked ab the games u wanted to try together such as the mario kart, a few shooting games, airhockey

modern!mizu would def let her competitive side come out with some games

she already gets competitive with taigen when it comes to sports

she totally doesnt rock his shit in basketball

if she’s against you, she’ll go easy on you

doesn’t mean she won’t back down from a fight

You and Mizu were hand in hand, checking out the games available at the arcade. Going down one of the aisles, you found yourselves at the some of the newer arcade games. Skimming at some of them, you hear a familiar sound.

Hadoken!

It was soon followed with a grunt and fighting groans. You turn back to find a Super Street Fighter game, patiently waiting to be played. Your eyes widen as they found the perfect challenge.

You playfully tugged at Mizu’s hand, pointing at the retro machine.

“I bet I can beat you at the Street Fighter.” you said, lightly jabbing at her competitive spirit. You knew she would put her all in it. However, you wondered of its limit.

Mizu glanced at you, and then looked back to spot the machine. Her eyes ignited, seeing the challenge put right in front of her by her

“You in?” you say, defying her in a playful tone.

“You bet.”

so um

turns out that was the WORSE POSSIBLE GAME YOU COULD CHALLENGE MIZU TO

u played a little bit with friends and family but mizu was on another level

how exactly did mizu beat ur ass for 5 rounds straight???

old man eiji.

he was a retro arcade go-er during his prime

even had the game console to continue his practice at home

if he wasn’t welding or fixing up someone’s bike, he was definitely spending his time grinding on the game

so modern!mizu end up playing games with him bc he got sick and tired of the computer bots

Player 2 Wins blinks again on the screen while her character, Ryu, celebrates another round of victory. You slowly turn to face Mizu to find a grin forming on her face.

“Wanna go again, baby?”, she taunts, hugging your hips closer to her.

You blankly stare into her eyes, your orbs empty from defeat. Mizu already knew your answer.

“Let’s find one we can both do.”, she said as she gave you a quick peck on the cheek. Her arm wrapped around your shoulder, beginning your hunt for the next game to win together.

modern!mizu would def try to win u a prize

actually no not one

all of them. yes she will try.

do not let her in a round1

iykyk

that is plushie heaven and credit/debit hell

her poor card will be spent trying to win u a prize

she wouldn’t outright announce her achievements

but she would attempt to sneak away from u, hoping to get lucky and win a plushie or two

u loved and appreciated the sweet thought

but

there was no room on the bed, the bookshelves, the desk, the couch

mizu even brought a couple plushies back home but her old man started to complain about mizu and u coming by just to drop off plushies and not see him

(he likes the plushies but bro is alone with his craft and misses his girl sometimes)

if u eyed any specific prize, modern!mizu would stop for nothing to earn it for u

at the arcade, u eyed a snoopy plushie, stuck in a claw game (for a little too long) and pouted at how cute it was

like cmon it was rlly cute

he had a puffer and a lil hat

mizu immediately saw ur reaction and locked in

Mizu’s arm slides off your shoulder. You look back, hoping to find the missing arm. No arm, no Mizu.

Instead, you find her striding over to the claw machine you just stared at with a goal in mind. Snoopy was coming with you, one way or another. The thought of Snoopy being in your arms was nice, but there was no way she was going to get it.

First off, your bedroom was already filled with plushies. Peace and love to all of them. They were practically your babies. However, every flat surface or shelf had a plushie. Every. Single. Surface.

The bed was crowded as well. No way there would be space for another plushie. There was also no way that she would go back home to drop off more plushies. Eiji was at his limit with the amount she dropped off during the last time.

Secondly, she had already spent so much money trying to get twinning plushies for the both of you. Her poor credit card was taking hit after hit after hit. Mizu drastically failed after every attempt and you had to basically pull her away from the machine after her 11th time.

Third of all, the both of you were getting ready to leave the arcade for dinner. After getting demolished by Mizu 5 rounds in a row at Super Street Fighter, you didn't have much energy in you to play more games.

But once Mizu gets set on something, it's hard to pull her away from it. It was already difficult separating her from her failed claw games earlier. You just decided to accept the outcomes of this claw machine this time around.

On the other hand, Mizu was in the zone. She studied the position of the plushie, focusing on how far back Snoopy sat. She slid the arcade card, starting her future attempts to retrieve the plushie. She bit the inside of her cheek as her hand carefully held the joystick. The machine jingled, starting its countdown.

0:30

Mizu took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

Focus Mizu.

0:29

You can get this for Y/N.

0:28

Mizu opens her eyes, pushing the joystick to the right in hopes of aligning the claw with Snoopy. She then pushes the joystick forward, nudging it as it gains proximity to the dog plushie.

0:23

The claw seemed right above Snoopy. Although it made you satisfied, Mizu couldn't agree. Something felt off.

0:21

She nudged the joystick to the left once.

0:20

Still unsatisfied, she pushed the claw back. Her eyes squinted, hoping to gain a clearer view of the claw and its alignment.

0:18

She continues to stare at the placement, studying it. Almost watching it like prey.

You watch from behind as you hear the faint sounds of laughing and other arcade games being played go off. In front of you is complete silence and concentration.

0:10

Mizu nudges the joystick forward.

0:09

She gets closer to the game. At this point, her face is practically smudging her view.

0:07

She nudges the joystick to the right once again. She sees the claw fully aligned with the plushie.

0:06

Should I press the button?

0:05

Mizu's eyes glance up and down, hoping to draw the line between the claw and your future prize.

0:04

You watch as her right hand is sitting on top of the collect button. Her fingers are so close to pushing it, practically edging the top of the button. They're ready to take the chance yet her hands refuse to commit.

0:02

"Drop it, Mizu."

0:01

She nudges the joystick one more time, bringing it slightly forward.

0:00

You come up next to her, watching the claw machine slowly descend down to the gigantic pile of plushies, a mix of Snoopy merchandise. Yet only one got your heart.

The claw extends, closing in on the plushie you stared at earlier. Its thin, metal arms wrap around Snoopy's head. It tightened its grip, securing Snoopy in the arm.

You watch the plushie slowly ascend. The both of you carefully watch the claw bring the prize. As the claw continued its journey to the drop-off corner, it slightly swung back and forth. You grab Mizu's right hand, holding it in anticipation and fear. She squeezes it once.

You look up to meet her gaze only to find a reassuring smile. You mirror her, giving her one back. You hear a small thud below. Mizu bends down to find your beloved Snoopy, handing him to you.

Your eyes widen. Snoopy was much cuter up close, especially with his little hat and baby blue puffer jacket. Looking up, you spot a proud Mizu. You simply get closer to her and give her a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Thank you, baby."

"Of course," she answers. "Anything for you, my dear."

She backs away and extends her hand out: an invitation to lunch.

You smile, accepting the invitation. With intertwined hands, you leave the arcade with another plushie in hand.

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

chocolate frog terrarium || theodore nott x reader

a/n: WARNING: ur a HUFFLEPUFF GIRL and now you have made-up siblings lol the chocolate frog thing was something i thought of a while ago and i think it’s funny. and i played hogwarts legacy so i have to reference it <3

to say that theodore was nervous about the date was an understatement. he was overwrought and maybe even querulous (thank you thesaurus.com). he didn't know what to wear and he was worried that his hair looked stupid. eventually he decided he looked as good as he was going to and left to meet (y/n) in the bell tower courtyard.

when he made it outside he saw her waiting by the fountain. she was conjuring three little yellow canaries, a spell they had recently learned in mcgonagall's class. when she saw him walking towards her she waved her wand and all of the birds disappeared.

"theo, you made it!" she walked towards him, grinning widely.

"you didn't think i'd show?" he pretends to be offended. "i see you've mastered the avis charm?" he watches as a few yellow feathers fall to the ground at her feet.

"truly i was worried you and malfoy were having me on..." she trailed off before quickly pivoting to a brighter topic. "are you ready to go?"

"yeah let's get going," he offers his arm and she takes it, looping hers through his.

they make small talk as they walk across the rickety bridge and all the way to hogsmeade, talking about everything from potions class to what they think harry potter will manage to do before this year is up. they also make a brief pitstop at the puffskein den on the way to the village ("they're so cute, let's just look at them for a second!").

"where do you want to go first?" theo asked as the both of them entered the wizard village.

"honeyduke's," (y/n) answered immediately.

"that was quick," theo teased her, but still led them to the candy store.

as they walk around together theo watches as she examines almost everything in the store.

"what's your favorite thing in here?" she asks him while still perusing the shelves.

he thinks for a minute before answering, "probably...every-flavor beans."

"are you a sociopath or something?" she asked with mock-seriousness. "i can't eat those. ever since i got a dragon dung flavored bean." she shivered at the memory.

he laughed loudly, "i've never got one like that...what's your favorite?"

she picks up a chocolate frog and holds it up to theo, suddenly laughing lightly at something.

"you know i come from a muggle family, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him. he nodded, so she continued. "i bought one of these for my brother one time, and when it jumped out he thought it was a real frog, so he set up a little habitat for it and kept it as a pet."

"how long did it stick around?" theo asked, genuinely curious as he had never left a chocolate frog open and uneaten for longer than five minutes.

"a day, then it melted under the heat lamp," she chuckled, putting the chocolate frog back. "i wish you could have seen his face when he found his brand new pet frog melted in his tank."

"i've always wondered how muggles would react to all of these different candies," theo said, imagining the scene of a boy finding his new pet as a melted chocolate blob.

"don't get me started on my sister," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "she tries to talk to the cards. she has a crush on her gilderoy lockhart card."

"so you've exposed your muggle family to the wizarding world as well?" he asked.

"yes," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "i think it would be rather selfish to keep all of this to myself."

"did your parents freak out when they found out?"

"oh yes, my mom nearly lost it when i made a worm grow to, like, double its size."

"i would too, that sounds vile," he scrunched his nose up at the thought of a fat fucking earthworm.

(y/n) grabs two chocolate frogs and a box of fizzing whizbees before going to the counter to pay. before she could even get her coin purse open, theo had already given the cashier enough money to cover it.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she frowned.

“i wanted to impress you,” he shrugged.

she rolled her eyes before offering him one of the frogs. they both opened them, caught them, and began eating them.

“what card did you get?” she asked, peering over his shoulder to see.

“fig,” he said unenthusiastically. “i have like eight of him already. who did you get?”

“ooh! i got mcgonagall! i don’t have her yet!” she said excitedly, pocketing the card. “i don’t have fig though….”

she side-eyed him in hopes that he would hand over the card. which he did. he didn’t need a ninth eleazar fig.

they started their walk back to the castle shortly after this. shyly brushing hands until theo made the move to fully hold her hand. he walked her down to the hufflepuff common room where he found himself sad to part ways.

“i had a really nice time today theo…” (y/n) said shyly, looking down at her feet. “we should do this again sometime.”

“yeah definitely! i had a great time too,” he smiled down at her softly.

he was wracking his brain, trying to think of something NORMAL to say, when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“goodnight theo,” she smiled softly and went into her common room.

he smiled as he turned around to walk to the dungeons. when he made it to his dorm, malfoy and mattheo (yep he’s here IM SORRY) were waiting for him.

“how’d it go mate?” mattheo asked, smirking at theo.

“it was really great,” theo answered earnestly, too giddy to say something cool and nonchalant.

“that’s just adorable,” malfoy cooed at him.

“shut up…” theo rubbed the back of neck, before plotting with the boys on how to ask (y/n) out again.

[cadaveerie]

Why Lucanis is (probably) an abomination

DATV and general DA spoilers ahead!

As I pointed out earlier today, Lucanis has an ability called "Abominate", which I suggest could be a not very subtle indication that he is an abomination. This has been a theory for some time and I know people have pointed this out before, but I wanted to put together everything I can think of in relation to this and to give my own take as to why I believe that Lucanis is an abomination. Here are some of the indications that this could be the case:

1. He has "uncanny abilities" (and how he might have gotten them)

The fact that he both has spectral wings and that he can feel when someone does magic near him already sound very suspicious... but it becomes even more interesting when you look at this comment about the crows that Zevran does in DAO:

"I wonder... the Crows often made sacrifices of blood, and it game them uncanny abilities".

(thank you irabelas for this post! this is how i found out about this and it's a very good connection)

So one of the theories is that he could have gotten his "uncanny abilities" in that way. We know he was abused by his grandmother, like most crows get abused since they're children, and there's a chance that in order to become a better assassin he was forced to go through one of these rituals, that I suppose involve blood magic, as Zevran calls them "sacrifices of blood".

Another of the theories is that since he "died" in The Wake, he could have been in a situation like Wynne... but against that some people say that he probably just pretended he died, as in The Wigmaker Job he mentions that he'll grow a beard to hide from the people who want to kill him, so some people (and me too) think that perhaps he pretended to die to escape them.

And lastly, another somewhat common theory is that he got these powers at some point after The Wigmaker Job and the beginning of DATV, and that perhaps Zara Renata was the person who somehow made blood magic on him, as a form of revenge. It'd make sense since she's presented as a villain in The Wigmaker Job, and the chapter suggests that she'll go after him. One issue that I have with this, and that admittedly might not be super justified is that I think he could have had the wings before The Wigmaker Job started, as he had that weird itch behind his eyes at that point, and that's basically the reason why he is "the mage killer" in the first place. Basically, I associate the origin of his uncanny abilities, both the "itch" and the wings to the same event... But I'm not super confident about this, because he could have just developed the wings later. I suppose this remains to be seen.

2. He has pride-demon themed clothing and colors.

Lucanis seems to have eye patterns that resemble pride demon's eyes all over his clothing. And both pride demon's eyes and their nervous system-looking thing are purple, like his clothing and his wings.

Also, the fact that his writer, Mary Kirby, replied a black heart emoji to a post that pointed this out (and the original post also included an screenshot that mentions that Magisters refer to him as "the demon").

Which... Yeah, I think it's a weird choice to answer to something like this if it's not true? Either way I suppose it's a bit spoilery if this is the case but... I'm more inclined to believe she's teasing rather than that she would answer to something random if it were not the case.

Aside from this, people also point out the design of his tarot card.

The purple eye motif continues: in his own eyes (which could represent the fact that he gets that "itch" behind his eyes), the inside of his cape, the background (both in the bottom and behind him in those strange orbs), the little vials he has on his belt/harness, and the gems all over his outfit as well. Even some of the little pins in his belt kind of resemble purple eyes. Black is his main color, while purple is his accent color, not only in this art but it's consistent in everything we've seen of him.

His hood kind of looks like he has yet another Pride Demon-looking eye, and what I think could also be interpreted as little eyes to the sides.

The purple orbs around him could also be interpreted as eyes. Or as felassan pointed out on this post, the way they're drawn kind of make the background look like peacock's feathers. felassan also compares that part to Solas' eyes in the Dreadwolf form, which makes a lot of sense.

(first picture is from felassan's post, featuring the peacock feathers. I'm not sure where it's from, though)

I never thought of the peacock thing before, but I think most of us associate peacocks to pride, so it'd make a lot of sense. And the multiple eyes thing as well, it's something that's not only seen in Pride demons but in the Dreadwolf himself... and Solas is closely related to Wisdom spirits and Pride demons (which as he reveals in DAI, are two sides of the same coin: demons are "corrupted" spirits. And to be specific, wisdom spirits become pride demons when corrupted). This connection he has to these beings, aside from the fact that you can observe it in his writing, gets referenced by Cole directly. He calls Solas as both in multiple occasions (not "spirit" or "demon", but by the names Wisdom and Pride) in his vague monologues. And on top of that, at the beginning of DATV it seems like Solas has accidentally summoned a Pride demon, as Varric literally says:

"It is a pride demon! Damn thing probably sensed Solas' ego!"

And perhaps it's reaching, but this whole thing would make even more sense if the theory that elves were originally spirits is true... or at least if they had very strong connections to them, and that much seems to be real. Either way, I suppose that just because he's a mage he could still be close to both spirits and demons, as he talks about often, and at the same time he'd be vulnerable to being possessed by them. Also, even if it's not super notable in DAI, he has purple eyes in DATV, which could also be a connection to Pride. I think Trick implied that they were purple in DAI as well? But it's not as notable... I just wonder if this change only happened for artistic reasons, or if this change will be acknowledge in-game, because it happened in-universe as well. His eye color could be a coincidence I suppose... but it's interesting.

But anyway, this post is not about Solas! It was just a way to point out that Solas is very likely connected to Pride demons and Wisdom spirits, and perhaps Lucanis is as well, since the motifs seem to be so related.

3. He has a "demonic aura"

He is described in the character selector screen as a "Swift and precise assassin with a demonic aura". The demonic aura, paired up with everything else... adds to the suspicion, to say the least, lol. It's a very strange thing to say otherwise? It's one thing to call him a demon as a nickname, which could potentially be a way of insulting him, or reflecting how ruthless he is... But to say he has a "demonic aura" sounds oddly specific if he's not... literally possessed by a demon.

And finally, what made me be like "oh god this is so real", and made me decide to write this:

4. He has an ability called "Abominate"

"I saw my comrades fall, burned by the flaming sky or crushed by debris. The monstrous creature, looking as if a demon were wearing a man like a twisted suit of skin, spotted me and grinned. We had forced it to this, I realized; the mage had made this pact, given himself over to the demon to survive our assault."

- from Codex entry: Abomination.

"Rook is getting attacked on all sides, so you command Lucanis to use Abominate to knock enemies down".

And idk how to explain it, because there isn't a lot to talk about. The explanation is that "Abominate" sounds like it could come from "Abomination", and at the same time that could come from the fact that he is one.

Wynne and Anders were abominations, so it wouldn't be a new concept at all for a companion to be one. So if this is the case... this could just be so sad and tragic.

---

And as a bonus, maybe I'm looking too much into it, but this person played some of the game (since they were part of the Community Council), and they said this:

"would it be in bad taste to drop a Lucanis x Rook fic the day Veilguard releases" "There’s another angst pairing that’s fair game, too. Hmm"

And I think it implies that Rookaris will be an angst pairing, by talking about "another angst pairing". Obviously, this could have nothing to do with the Abomination / weird powers thing, I'm not trying to put words on their mouth. There could be many other aspects that make the ship angsty, or perhaps I'm interpreting this wrong and the ship is not angsty at all... So I'm not taking this seriously, I'm just reaching with this. BUT... imagine. The angst potential... I choose to believe lol.

Before ending this I want to give my take as to why a Pride demon, out of every other kind. I talked slightly about this before, but my preferred theory for how he acquired his powers is that his family made him get them forcefully, which I know doesn't make that much sense, given the fact that there's no mention of wings in the The Wigmaker Job. Perhaps he just didn't show them, perhaps he got them after The Wigmaker Job... but then where did he get his ability to sense magic like that? Could it be that he was born with it? I can't think of any case like this for other characters... it's almost as if he was a mage? But he doesn't seem to have other magic abilities besides that one... (I thought that perhaps all non-mage companions would get some form of magical abilities because everything got fucked up... But I haven't thought about it much so I won't write it here. And I suppose it wouldn't make a lot of sense since that seems like a Harding thing). Perhaps he had this natural sensitivities to the Veil and magic before, and so when everything went down that's when he became extra magical. Perhaps the gods escaping--and whatever happens afterwards--fucked everything up, and he got the wings at that moment, like Harding? Hers is probably Titan magic, but both could be as a result of the gods escaping and/or the Veil getting fucked up. Or something else we don't know yet.

Those are all possibilities, but coming back to my personal preferred theory: perhaps he got his powers through a blood-magic ritual performed by the Crows (whether only the magic-sensing ones or the wings too, I don't know). And to my main point: if that were the case, perhaps the pride is not exactly his, but from his grandmother, Caterina Dellamorte. It seems like his story will revolve around expectations from family vs. one's own desires and individuality, so my theory is that perhaps that's the origin of this "Pride". Lucanis is the heir to the Antivan Crows, so could it be the Pride that Caterina has for her preferred grandson and heir? The Pride of the Dellamortes? The Pride of Antiva? A lot of pressure, a lot of people to disappoint, and someone very important in his life to disappoint (and well, we should probably add Illario to the equation... But for an hypothetic Pride demon, I think Caterina is probably the proudest of all the Crows).

And if not that, even if this ritual didn't happen at all and the demon just happened to find him for some reason, perhaps the anxieties he feels about his family and making them proud was what attracted that spirit to him. Perhaps a demon managed to trick him, and the being possessed him. All options could be interesting, in my opinion.

But who knows. Perhaps it's nothing like this, perhaps he's not even an abomination at all! I just think there are a lot of indications of it, and it'd make a lot of sense. And I think my theories make some sense at least! :]

And that's all! Long-ass post. I don't know if I missed anything else, but this is why I believe that he is an abomination, and in particular he was possessed by a Pride demon. To be honest I wouldn't mind being wrong because... this would be so, so sad, and I don't know if I'm ready lol. But I'm excited at the possibility! No matter what I can't wait to meet and romance the hell out of him.

What do you think? I'd love to hear your opinions :D

Edit 1, Edit 2 (SPOILERS)

[tuiccim]

Wrecked (Part 4)

Pairing: Alpha Frank Castle x Omega Reader, Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, love triangle, smut

Summary: When Frank Castle found his way to your small town bar, you thought you had finally found your Alpha despite being a "wrecked omega" but when his best friend, Billy Russo, blows through town, your world tilts on its axis. You thought you found your happy ending but was it just more wreckage for your life?

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader and hype princess, @whisperlullaby

Wrecked Masterlist

You danced around Billy for the rest of the day. He always seemed to find a way to touch you or at the least, be within reach, and always solicitous. It hadn’t taken you long to realize your folly that morning. He was testing you, making sure you were loyal to his friend. Part of you wondered if Frank had put him up to it. Was he trying to find a reason to break it off with you? Did he regret his commitment to mate you? You hated the thoughts that continuously ran through your head. You jerk your head, trying to make the ugly thoughts go away. Would you ever find any peace from your own self-doubt?

“You okay, gorgeous?” Billy asks as he studies you from across the kitchen counter. 

“Fine,” you say, not making eye contact. 

“What time do you have to be at the bar?” he asks. 

“I’ve got to go get ready now. Are you guys coming by?” You look at Frank for the answer. 

“Nah,” Frank says. 

“Of course,” Billy’s answers simultaneously. 

“Okay, well, either way, I’ll see you guys later,” you retreat to your room to change. You wished you had a moment alone with Frank to ask him what was going on with him, but he seemed content to keep you at arms length. It was as you were driving that another explanation crossed your mind. What if Billy brought back memories of Frank’s mate, Maria? He had known her and Frank’s children. The thought made you sad and you wondered if you had jumped to conclusions about Frank’s remoteness. You resolved to talk to him about it tonight after close.  

Saturday night at any bar is busy and you were glad your other bartender was here. You really needed to find another hand, if only to give you a couple nights off a week. You usually take Mondays off but you'd been called in several times lately. You loved the bar but everyone needs a break sometimes. You hadn't taken a vacation since you bought it. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts as a group bustles in through the door. Without them even making it across the floor, you get a pitcher going and gather glasses. They were regulars on Saturday nights. The group bought a few pitchers, played pool on one of the three tables, and were decent tippers. The leader of their group, Dane, came by to drop his card for the tab and grabbed the drinks. He was an Alpha and paid little attention to you outside of ordering and paying. Just how you liked them to behave. 

You were surprised when Frank and Billy actually showed. After their awkward exchange earlier, you assumed they wouldn't bother. Billy was all smiles as he approached and you set their drinks at two open spaces at the end of the bar. 

"Thanks," Frank said softly with a gentle look. It warmed your heart and you gave him a genuine smile. He looked in your eyes for what felt like the first time in days, though it had only been hours. 

"How's the night going?" Billy asks. 

"It's been busy but nothing we can't handle," you nod. 

"Can I get another?" A patron calls. 

"I'll check on you guys in a bit," you smile as you get back to work. 

The next hour goes by in a blur as customers come and go. You rarely have a moment to breathe and do little but refill glasses. The music was playing loudly and there was a commotion at one of the tables that calmed down with Jordan's quick work. It was a great night business-wise and everyone was having a good time. You had finally made it back over to the guys when, out of nowhere, the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Your shoulders tensed as you glanced around. 

"What is it?" Billy looked around before looking back at you. 

"I don't know..." your eyes continue to scan. 

"You probably just caught a chill," Frank attempts to reassure you. 

"Um,yeah... probably," you say softly. 

"I don't think so, Frankie," Billy disagrees. "Your face went white, gorgeous. Something set you off."

Frank glances around and shrugs, "Everything's fine. Relax. I'm gonna hit the head."

Taking a deep breath, you pour Billy another drink with a small smile, appreciative of his understanding. You glance up to check on the group at the pool table and see their pitcher getting low. You head that way to ask if they want another or to close out. Halfway there, you stop dead in your tracks when you make eye contact with a late arrival to the group. The Alpha that attacked you gave a sinister smile before lifting his glass. You look towards Jordan but he's dealing with a couple of young looking guys at the door. A hand grips your arm and you gasp, twisting to see Billy. A laugh rings out from your attacker's direction and your gut clenches. 

"It-it's him," you breathe out, frozen in place as your anger builds. 

"Who?" Billy looks and immediately knows. His hackles raise as he locks eyes, a challenge clear in the other Alpha's eyes. 

"He attacked me. Frank stopped him. He can't be here," you set off to face your attacker but Billy catches you.

"Hey, Let me handle it," Billy says. 

"It's my bar. I can handle it,"  you say confidently. 

"But you don't have to. Let me do this for you," Billy argues.

"No, I need to do this. I can stand up on my own," you pull away but, letting go of a little of your pride, you turn back to him, "But you can back me up." As you walk, you catch Jordan's eye and motion for him to join you. You approach the Alpha with them flanking you. "I'm only going to say this once, leave now."

"Brought your posse, huh?  Where's your hero with the crowbar? Couldn't hold on to him? He didn't want the broken Omega?" He says, darkly. 

"He's right behind you," Frank's gruff voice is accompanied by the sound of a pool stick taking out your attacker's knees.

"What the fuck?" Dane yells, seeing his friend being attacked. 

Frank stops him with the pool stick, "You don't want in on this."

"What is going on?" Dane looks at you for an answer.

"Last time he was here, I cut him off. After close, he attacked me by my car. He's not welcome here," you explain plainly. 

"Did he hurt you?" Dane asks.

"Nah, I hurt him," Frank grouses.

"Is that when you were in that 'car wreck', Matt?" Dane looks at his friend. 

"No. Back me up here, man!" Matt yells. 

Dane looks between Frank, Billy, and Jordan and shakes his head, "I'm good. Uh, when you're done here another round would be great."

"Sure, Dane." You look at the guys, "Get him out of my bar. Feel free to remind him why he's not welcome."

"We've got this," Billy stops Jordan from joining them. The dark smiles Frank and Billy exchange are enough to make your insides quell. Matt would be shitting his pants before the night was over. 

You grabbed the pitcher and flounced back to the bar as if nothing had happened, secure in the knowledge that he'd never show his face here again. His audacity was mind boggling. 

You settle back into the swing of things and finish off the night. Just as you were yelling last call, Billy and Frank come in with bruised knuckles. You pour them each a drink with a grateful smile. 

"Thanks for delivering the message," you wink. 

Frank smiles as he raises his glass, "Anytime."

You glance down at Billy's split knuckles, "Need some ice? Or a bandaid?"

"Nah, gorgeous," he licks the wound and takes a drink while staring at you. 

You don't know why but it was hot as fuck. Your mind immediately went to it doing other things and you have to swiftly shift your attention. You pour yourself a hit of whiskey, a rarity for you, but necessary to help you through these strange feelings coursing through you. 

“You okay, babe?” Frank eyes you. 

“Just a little keyed up,” you say, dismissively. 

“Sounds like you need an outlet,” Billy gives you a rakish look. 

Deciding to play his little game, you lean on the bar suggestively, “Any suggestions?”

Billy’s eyes betrayed him in that moment. Want was obvious but a moment of vulnerability flashed. He recovered quickly to send a smirk Frank’s way, “You’ve got a firecracker on your hands, Frankie.”

“She gets in her moods,” Frank cracks.

You raise an eyebrow at the comment but before you can reply, Dane walks up to close out his tab. He leaves a big tip and looks at Frank, “He still alive?”

“He was when we left him,” Billy says with a cagey shrug.

“He’s only in town a couple of times a year but once his dad hears about this, he won’t be back. Sorry for the trouble. Won’t happen again,” Dane nods to you as if sealing a deal. 

“Thanks. See ya next Saturday,” you say to assure his welcome to return. 

“Alright, let’s head out, Bill. Jordan, you’ll make sure she gets to her car?” Frank drains his glass.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” Jordan says nervously. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll stay with her,” Billy states. 

“Wha- No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” you retort. 

“I’d feel better if you weren’t alone,” Billy says sternly.

“Jordan will be here,” you argue. 

“She’s good, Bill. Let’s go,” Frank jerks his head toward the door. 

“You go ahead,” Billy says coldly. “I’m staying.”

“You always were a stubborn bastard,” Frank laughs, shaking his head. 

“Always,” Billy says dismissively. 

You clench your jaw in frustration but turn away to finish off the night. It was as if time sped up to leave you alone with Billy. The bar emptied quickly, the staff cleaned in record time, and before you realized it, Billy had told Jordan to head to his apartment. Taking the cash to the back room, you crouch down to lock it in the safe. It was the only way to put some distance between the two of you. His intent to get you alone was obvious to you and you wanted to get into the car quickly to limit it. What you didn’t expect was for him to be right behind you when you stood up from locking the safe. 

Gasping, you growl out, “Damn Marines and their fucking silent steps!”

Billy chuckles as he closes the little distance between you. 

“Don’t,” you put a hand up to stop him. 

“We need to finish our conversation from this morning,” Billy intimates. 

“The one where you tried to seduce your best friend’s Omega?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Were you testing me? Is this some sick game you play? Or did Frank put you up to it so he has a reason to dump me?” You practically spit the accusations. All of your anxiety and fears come to the surface with them. 

A muscle ticked in Billy’s clenched jaw. His dark eyes bore into yours as he leaned in closer. You stand your ground but you’d be lying if you said your insides didn’t quiver. His scent was suddenly more intense and you knew you had struck a nerve. His hand lashed out to grasp you by the throat and pull your face close to his. You wrap your hands around his wrist as your eyes widen. You should be scared, afraid of what this Alpha may do to you but you find yourself aroused by his reaction. Your thighs clench and heat pools in your belly despite you fighting these feelings. He takes a deep breath, pulling your scent in before speaking, “I don’t play games with other men’s Omegas. I don’t mess with Omegas at all, generally. But, I do go after what I want and from the moment I stepped in this damn bar yesterday, all I can think of doing is marking you as mine,” he growls.

“Why?” You ask, staring at him pleadingly, desperate for an answer. Mainly because you felt the same way. Your mind and body were screaming out for him. It was insanity, a delusion. It had to be. A reaction to agreeing to be mated. A seven month itch, fuck, it had to be something because whatever else it was, it was wrong.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it but I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone,” he whispers. 

“I’m Frank’s,” you reply quietly. 

“Funny,” Billy says, trailing his fingers over the scent gland on your neck and sending a shiver through you, “I don’t see a claiming mark. You’re with Frank, you’re not his. Not yet… He won’t stay. He can’t. Even if he does mate you, he won’t stay.”

Those words broke whatever spell Billy was able to put over you and you felt the anger claw its way into you, “And you will?”

Billy’s lips part but nothing comes out. 

“Exactly,” You push him away. You grab your keys from the desk and flick the lights off as you exit the back room, “Let’s go.” 

You walk away without a backwards glance. Shutting everything down as you go, you make it to your car and slip in without him bothering to say anything more. Frank had told you Billy was known for going through the Omegas but you were kicking yourself for falling for his soulful shit again. Yes, you were attracted to him but he was just passing through town and no matter how much you wanted to give in, it would be stupid to lose Frank for nothing more than a quick fuck. You rode in silence to the cabin. Your anger and frustration were too intense to allow you to speak and Billy was similarly stoic. 

As soon as you were inside, you went to shower, feeling as if all you could smell was Billy on your skin. You ran the water hotter than normal and scrubbed your skin of any smell from him or the bar. When you entered the bedroom, Frank stirred, woken by the light from the bathroom. 

“Everything okay?” Frank asks, squinting. 

“No,” you say as you get on the bed. 

“What’s the matter?” 

You pull the blankets down and straddle his naked body. Kissing him hard, you pull back just long enough to whisper, “I need you.”

His arms go around you immediately and his mouth opens to kiss you more thoroughly. You reach down to pump his cock until it’s hard enough for you to slip it inside. Your walls clench around him. Breaking the kiss, you sit up to work your hips more quickly, allowing him to fill you more. 

“Jesus, babe, what’s gotten into you?” Frank moans as his hands cover your breasts to knead. 

“Fuck, needed this cock in me. Needed it stretching me out like only you can,” you answer, throwing your head back to let out a moan. 

“Quiet, babe. Billy will hear us,” Frank chuckles, sitting up and trying to pull you to him for a kiss. 

You push him back down forcefully and ride him harder, “Then he’ll know just how good you fuck me.” Your anger returns as you ride him. Anger at Billy for his very presence, anger at Frank for making you feel he always had one foot out the door, anger at your family for making you feel less than, anger at society that considered you nothing but a wreck. You rode all those feelings out on Frank’s cock and when that wasn’t enough you dug your nails into his pecs until he grimaced. You drag them down his chest leaving angry red marks, making Frank roar as he grabs you and throws you under him. He thrusts as hard as possible, driving impossibly deep, and forcing a cry from your throat. He doesn’t relent, pounding into you harder than he ever has, enough that you know your thighs will be bruised. You lose yourself in it, allowing your mouth to fall open and release moans and cries with no regard to who hears. When you come, your body bows and you release a full-throated scream. 

You lay like a ragdoll, completely spent and grateful for the release but Frank isn’t finished with you. Pulling out, he grabs your leg and flips you over. He pulls you up onto your knees and slams into you repeatedly from behind, grunting as he uses his hands to pull you back against him. Your skin slaps obscenely and you can do little more than curl your hands into the sheets as he fucks into you. When his hand lands a punishing slap on your ass, you cry out again. 

“Don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you tonight, but don’t worry, babe, I’m gonna fuck it out of you,” Frank growls as he continues his delicious assault on your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, your eyes rolling back in your head as another orgasm slams through you. 

“That’s right. Let it out, fuck,” Frank pulls out of you and you collapse on the bed. Turning you on your back, Frank pulls one of your legs across the other and enters you again. You're twisted in half, breasts and face where he can see them, but your ass is still displayed as he fucks you. He grasps your thigh as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust. “Play with them. I wanna watch you,” Frank brings your hand up to your breast. 

You pinch your nipples, twisting and flicking as he watches. His hips drive into you steadily and his thumb makes circles around your clit. Your orgasm creeps up on you, your attention on your breast but your body suddenly spasms and you let out a high pitched moan. It comes in waves and you clench down on Frank with each one. 

“Frankie, baby, please. I need you to fill me up,” you whine, exhausted.

“You want me to fill you up, you’re gonna have to work for it,” Frank grunts, pulling you up. He positions you on top of him in reverse cowgirl. “Ride me like you did the other night and maybe I’ll give it to you. Move that ass,” he says as he delivers another punishing smack to your ass cheek. 

“Oh,” you squeal as you begin to move. You’re so tired but you put all of your remaining energy into bouncing on his cock. You stick your ass out, giving him the full view. He licks his lips as he watches your dripping cunt swallow his cock. He grabs handfuls, delivers alternating smacks, and smears slick from your cunt to play around your tight, little asshole. 

“Play with your clit. I want to feel you come around my cock one more time,” Frank demands.

“I… I don’t think I can,” you whimper. 

“I ain’t coming until you come, ‘mega. I suggest you get to work,” he flexes his hips up into you to emphasize his words. 

You circle your clit, searching desperately for that toe curling feeling. You reposition your hips to allow his cock to hit your g spot a little better and begin making shorter strokes. You find it and ride it out, begging your body to give you just one more. When you felt yourself teetering on that precipice, you whined until the spasms hit. Your hips moved in jerky motions as the orgasm made your legs shake uncontrollably. 

Frank’s deep voice groans, “Oh, yeah, fuck. That’s it. Fuck.” 

You feel his knot lock in place and you sob as pleasure rolls through you. Frank rolls you to your side while you’re still connected. His big hand caresses your cheek before resting it on the back of your head. 

“That’s what you needed, huh? Just needed my knot filling you up, huh, ‘mega?” He whispers, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, glad that you were facing away from him so you could hide your tears. You were filled by a man who wanted you, so why did you feel so empty?

Part 5

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[little-buzz]

Imagine Husk as your mentor

In honor of Valentine's Day, I give you this platonic imagine. Because I'm not a huge fan of this holiday, I hope y'all are having a good Wednesday ♥️

Husk is open to play card games with you, like trash or slapjack. Unfortunately for you, he is insanely good at any card games and you frequently lose. He points out if you’re holding your cards out in view, though. You attempted to play Cheat with him, but he called your bluff out immediately. For your own sake, you learn which games to avoid when you play with Husk.

You’re a frequent customer at the conceriege, alongside Angel. You occasionally get drinks, but you enjoy Husk’s company, albeit his grumpy demeanor. You’ll read a book or busy yourself with an activity at the bar. If a drink spills on the counter, Husk will raise your book out of harm’s way. Husk wondered why you want to spend your time with him, but he doesn’t mind.

You are a more recent Sinner, so he sees you as a kid. Husk calls you ‘kid’, ‘buddy’, ‘little shit’, etc more than your actual name. At first, he called you that to piss you off, but now it’s a term of endearment. In turn, you call him ‘Old man’ and ‘Grumpy McGrumperson’. You referred to him as ‘sourpuss’ once and he didn’t react well to that. You quickly learned not to tease him in relation to his cat-like appearance. Angel has taken a liking to calling you ‘Husk’s kid’ too.

There has been a time or two where you stumbled into the hotel after a fight. Husk takes in your disheveled appearance and asks if you won the battle or not. Depending on your response, he will either praise you or scold you. Regardless, Husk will nag you, but he means well.

Like the rest of the patrons at the hotel, you bitch to the bartender. Husk will call you out on your misdeeds, which you don’t take well. You storm away in an angry huff. Later, you switch one of Husk’s bottles with sparkling water. You relax on the couch and gleefully watch as he chugs the booze. He spits out the drink in disgust before you burst out laughing. He is relatively a patient guy, so you know you got under his skin from this stunt. As punishment, Husk refused to serve you at the bar for several days.

You buy Husk a pair of silly shot glasses. You bought it for him as a gag gift and left it at that. He scowls at the glasses and keeps them below the bar. Sometimes he uses the glasses with Angel. You found him passed out on the bar counter, the shot glass held loosely in his hand. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing your gesture was appreciated.

Husk tries his best to keep you from Alastor, not that you want to talk to him. He’s an Overlord, so you know better than to associate yourself with him. The day you were introduced to Lucifer, you noticed Husk seemed… off after he stepped away from the bar. While he was his grumpy self, he seemed more on edge and reserved. You also noted he was more alert when Alastor was around. Although you wanted to address the issue with Husk, you figured he wouldn’t tell you about it.

Husk can easily tell if you are upset when you’re at the bar. You don’t interact with the others, instead keeping to yourself. When it’s just you and him, he plainly comments on your mood. You don’t give him an explanation and you watch as he pulls something from his pocket. He shows you a deck of cards and performs a few magic tricks to cheer you up. Even though you know it’s fake, you are entertained by Husk’s performance.

You’ve found yourself in trouble occasionally with other Sinners. You knew it was inevitable to piss off other demons. When a guy jumped you on the street, Husk was there to accompany you. The guy didn't land a hit on you before Husk pushed you out of the way with his wings. He summoned a pair of dice and threw it at his head, where he promptly blew up into bits. You blink dumbly at Husk, wiping splatters of blood off his fur. You were reminded not to cross Husk and made a mental note to avoid pulling pranks on him in the future.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for leaving an unflushable poo in someone's toilet? ....This one is gross. Sorry.

I have diverticulitis, which is... a bathroom issue. They thought it was Crohn's for a long time, and many incompetent doctors + health complications later, they found out I had an enormous abscess and a golfball-sized fistula growing inside my colon. As you can imagine, this comes with a plethora of issues I am too embarrassed to divulge in their entirety.

This event happened before I had the abscess surgically removed, so I was mid 20s at the time. A friend set me up with this guy I had met once before at a party (J). It was practically a blind date. Things went well and we went back to his house.

Then it happened.

The gurgling. The pain. I told him I needed to go to the bathroom. As luck would have it, this was the WORST bathroom emergency I have ever had in my entire life. I shat more than I have ever shat. I was worried parts of my body would escape out of me and I would somehow reverse-hungry-caterpillar myself into nothingness.

I spent so long doing the deed and trying to clean it up, it must have been around 2 full hours, and we were both reasonably drunk - so when I went to peek my head in the living room, he was asleep. I tried again to plunge this beast back from whence it came. I was crying. It's quite funny in hindsight but as you can imagine, easily one of the worst humiliations I have ever endured. At one point, I had my HAND and FOREARM down this guy's toilet trying to set free the freakish poobaby I had just conceived in his otherwise impeccable loo (a fancy one with BUTTONS instead of a flush handle!). I even took the top off the toilet and tried to... hand-pump the water, I guess? Desperation.

I finally gave up. The whole room stank like sulfur and purse-sized citrus bodyspray so I cracked the window and cleaned up the best I could. I realized that it was, at this point, best left to a professional plumber, or perhaps an exorcist. I was younger and embarrassed and opted to go home, leaving nothing but a foul scent trail and a very small note (Later referred to by my friends as the Ghost Shitter Calling Card) written on a toilet paper square that said "oops" because I guess I thought that would be funny and maybe soften the blow. It was decidedly Not Funny, however, and to my surprise, he never made me foot the plumbing bill, but he did politely tell me that he was uninterested in going out again. Not that I blame him.

Lots of crying and shame later, and after getting my issues fixed via surgery, I am now wondering if there was a better course of action here. My friends do love this story but some of them have mentioned they would be LIVID if somebody did that to them. I know I am probably the asshole for leaving it like that. I really did try my best, and I do believe any people on here with less-than-ladylike health issues will at least partially understand what it's like, and what I was thinking at the time.

TLDR I clogged my date's toilet and left it like that since he fell asleep. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[theheroheart]

Rogue got delivered a day early.

Gonna put a whole bunch of quotes and observations and things under the cut, very Rogue focused.

SPOILERS, OBVIOUSLY.

Also I will say, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE buy this book, it absolutely deserves it, I adored it. It was wonderful and gave us SO MUCH.

Rogue's former partner is a he, and he's Rogue's boyfriend. His name is Art, which is indeed short for Artificer (reference to D&D). And Art is confirmed dead at this point, and has been for 5 years. Rogue and Art were together for 10 years.

Rogue jumps off a building at some point, knowing Art will save him.

Art was tall with shoulder-length curly hair and wore a sleek purple tunic, rolled up at the sleeves. On top of this was a metallic chest-piece that crackled with electrical energy. On his head he wore a pair of steampunk goggles that complemented his hazel eyes. As he pulled on the net, a long grey scar could be seen on his arm, a memory from a battle lost years before. As the net neared the ship, Rogue smiled up apologetically at Art. But judging by the icy look he got back, well - he couldn't smile his way out of this one.

Rogue doesn't like parties. Partly because he prefers "a good night in". (Though Rogue cannot cook, lmao.) And partly because while "watching the wealthy gorge themselves" he knew "most of the population was living in abject poverty." Rogue says eat the rich.

It was an odd feeling to think that nights like that wouldn't be on the cards for Rogue and hadn't been in fact for a long time. It's strange, the shape time takes when you lose someone. One morning they are next to you, on their pillow, and the next morning you realise they haven't been sleeping there for nearly five years. The five years had gone by slowly and quickly, all at once, Rogue's bounties all blending into one another. It wasn't that Rogue hadn't continued to live, or even to love a little bit. But when you felt you'd lived through the main event of your life, everything else - that extra bit of life you found yourself wandering through - was a bit like an epilogue. Rogue would walk the ship, each night, inspecting every weathered part. A fading heartbeat of a life once lived. He could no longer think about that day. That time. He felt more ghost than man at this point. That was why it was so surprising when Rogue gazed down at the ballroom below and suddenly found himself transfixed. There was a man in the middle of that dancefloor. A gorgeous man. But this wasn't just shallow attraction. There was an energy to the man. An unfiltered joy. Something Rogue instantly knew he wanted to be close to.

There's minor dialogue changes, as there usually are.

'You know, I can help you,' the man went on. 'Trouble, I am good at.' It was then that Rogue emotionally left his body and starting panicking a good 50 feet above the scene playout out below. Was this man handsome? Yes. Was there a bit of chemistry here? Yes. Did the man smell surprisingly nice for someone from 1813? Absolutely.

Instead of going outside, Rogue and the Doctor get punch and actually chat together.

Rogue recognised her as the woman the Doctor had been spinning joyfully across the dancefloor. "You okay?" the Doctor said, concerned. "Yeah. Just, avoiding engagement." She noticed Rogue. "So you found a scandal, then?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her as if to say - you behave! - but she just laughed and rushed off down a corridor. Rogue watched it all play out, intrigued. So his dance partner does know him then. But how well? The Doctor turned back and looked into Rogue's eyes, apparently noticing his puzzled expression. "Don't trouble yourself, love; she won't need me till there's screaming, or smoke, or both. Or Goblins. Right now, I'm all yours." Rogue nodded. Okay, Goblins - interesting - but the Doctor could just be a fan of fairytales.

Rogue imagines conversations with Art sometimes, and in this case, Art is encouraging Rogue to flirt with the Doctor. "The fantastical joy of dead boyfriend imagination theatre."

Usually, the imaginary conversations Rogue had with him were when he was alone in the ship but in moments of crisis sometimes, he would imagine him, a life raft in a sea of social interaction nightmares. "Would you let go, for a second. Flirt back. Ask him about his favourite paintings, the wonders of the universe." Rogue looked at Art. "He's from 1813." Art laughed. "Okay, well ask him about the wonders of lawn bowls then, who cares." Rogue sighed. "It was always so easy with you. Why can't it be easy with anyone else?" Art gave him a knowing smile. "You gotta be willing to let it be easy." He gestured back to the Doctor. "Now, come on, you can't just bat your pretty eyes at him." Rogue looked at Art and batted his eyes. "Oh, I absolutely can." "What are you blinking at?" the Doctor asked, intrigued, and Rogue found himself snapped out of his daydream and back into reality. Rogue apologised. "Sorry. A ghost."

The Doctor continued to sip. "You know, I think it's kiwi. No, they aren't here for another century. So what are the green bits?" Immediately, Rogue let go of his fleeting feelings of enjoyment and replaced them with cold resolve. How could the Doctor know something like that? He talked about the present and future like they were all the same to him. No, Rogue had found his bounty and it was time to get back to work. The manor was too busy, too full of guests. He needed a safer place to capture him. Somewhere he could get him alone. "Why don't we continue this conversation in the garden?" Rogue said, a flicker of mischievousness in his eyes. The Doctor laughed. "Fast mover, let's go."

The dialogue confirms again and again that they are SO FUCKING THIRSTY FOR EACH OTHER THE ENTIRE TIME. Besties, please.

He looked back at Rogue, walking, brooding (of course), and had to remind himself that this was an interrogation, not a date. "I love these old skies. Ripe with constellations being found and named." He gestured above, pointing out his favourite constellations. "The bear, the ram ... the poop-deck." "The romance of the night sky," Rogue replied sardonically as he gave the Doctor an oh really look. That stare of his. The Doctor laughed. "Don't blame me! De Lacaille chose them! Great astronomer, bad with names." Then he smiled cheekily. "But if it's romance you're after? He also named those stars there the pump, the chisel, and Norma." Okay, he was flirting now. Ruby would be furious with him if this silly side quest was what got him killed. "Not what I'm after," replied Rogue, his tone back to matter-of-fact but his face blushing a little.

Rogue made the gun himself!

"Keep moving," Rogue replied languidly. Another day at the office for this guy. The Doctor turned his head back to check on the glowing chamber of the blaster. "Is that a glo-stick?" He knew he had said something good because he got the biggest reaction from Rogue yet, hearing him grunt then look immediately offended. "Glo-stick? I made this!" Rogue bit back. Okay, we have an ego here and apparently an inventor, thought the Doctor. That's- "Cute," he said, which only spurred on Rogue. "It's not cute, it's a disseminator. It's very complicated." "Like its owner." The Doctor grinned. He figured if he was going to get killed, he might as well enjoy himself.

Their ship is named the Yossarian.

You can tell a lot about a person by the ship they fly in, thought the Doctor. It's home away from home. Which explained why he was shaken by what he say. Granted, he had made some assumptions about Rogue, but this dimly lit and cluttered space was not what he had expected. It was an absolute mishmash of tech, half-made projects, tools and strange-looking things in piles or cages. It looked and smelt like a mechanic's workshop. In the corner was a cockpit for flying, pretty much hidden behind a stack of metal toolboxes and a hammock slung in the corner, he assumed for sleeping but perhaps eating as well? Oh, Rogue, he thought. What happened, love?

The mess aside, the make of the ship did not surprise. It was an old asteroid hawk from the 50-56, often sold on the cheap in many star systems. In anyone's ship was a shed, this was the one. He looked across the console, trying to see if there might be anything useful to help him escape or at the very least steer the conversation towards suggesting Rogue should get a broom. [...] On the console was an Ood translation sphere, plugged into the ship's controls. It would allow Rogue to understand the local languages wherever he travelled, but the Doctor's attention was taken more by the can of unfinished Gurgle balanced dangerously on top. It was a dusty can. Left there a long time ago.

The spaceship scene is very similar, just tiny differences. Although it confirmed that the Doctor has played D&D, specifically with the Paternoster gang, and that Strax played a bard with a beautiful singing voice.

The Doctor also thinks about Fourteen, thinking that he likes him and hopes he's living his best life right now.

Different past selves of the Doctor, different genders and ages, all projected on top of his current form. Right now, standing in the middle of the Yossarian, he was revealing his true heart. His power. His strength. His undeniable wonder. The Doctor looked from the scan back at Rogue, right in the eye. "I am not a Chuldur. I am something much older and far more powerful. I am a Lord of Time from the lost and fallen planet of Gallifrey." He took a deep breath. "Now, let me go, Bounty Hunter. We have work to do." Rogue just started in awe, taking in the Doctor, all of them. "You're beautiful," he said.

And then you get a long lovely flashback to Art and Rogue having a romantic dinner. (And I would just like to say that I 100% called the Artificer thing.)

"You are so stubborn!" Art said, lowering his spoon. "I told you not to put more chilli powder in, yet here we are." Rogue laughed. "Look, I tried really hard to make us this terrible meal." "Now, hold the phone, I did not say this was terrible, I just said you deliberately ignored my advice." "Unwanted advice," Rogue replied. As he took another mouthful, a tear started to form in his eye. The stew was too hot, but he was never going to let Art know that. "I can see you crying," Art said. "There's a literal tear, rolling down your face." Rogue looked at him, faux dramatic. "I'm just feeling really emotional about my chair over there, that you still haven't fixed. Art laughed. "Oh it's your chair now, is it?" Rogue smiled and wiped away the tear he had pretended was not there with his sleeve. He continued to look around the ship, at the home he and Art had made together. Art had built everything on the Yossarian and nearly every gadget Rogue used on the missions. The emphasis on 'nearly' was because Rogue had foolishly attempted to build a few of his own. It was a learning curve for him. A steep one. Where Rogue had charm in spades, Art had a talent for turning a kitchen spoon into a deadly laser ray. He could do anything. The name Art had also come from Dungeons & Dragons, a shared pastime and passion between them both. Art was short for Artificer; this was a class in the game known for their invention and incredible ability to see the full potential in objects, and it suited Art to a tee. Rogue could never pin down exactly when the nicknames had started. Like so many things when you've been with someone for a very long time, it had begun as a cute reference, but then the nicknames just became everyday for them until, eventually, the old names just didn't fit any more. They were just Rogue and Art to each other. And that suited them both fine.

"You know, I could go undercover next time," Art said. "Oh yeah," Rogue said playfully. "Last time we tried that, you gave someone our actual contact details." "We got on! An alias shouldn't prevent an actual friendship." Rogue nodded. He got up, went round the console and put his arms around Art, nuzzling into his shoulder. "I guess it's how I met you," he said, and the pair of them laughed. Art smelt like a warm fire. He was taller than Rogue, only by a bit, but it meant he looked up to him slightly, which was a bit of a novelty for Rogue, who was usually the tallest in the room. He took in Art's face: every line, pore, the stubble, the striking, hazel eyes. Art looked back down at Rogue, and it looked as if he was about to say something deeply profound or romantic. "So, is this your apology for dinner?" Rogue leant in closer. "Oh, never," he murmured.

Oh also, Rogue hadn't meant to give the Doctor that name.

"Does 'not a Lord' have a name?" "Rogue." Immediately, Rogue panicked. It wasn't his actual name - Rogue was the name that Art had given him - but it would do fine. For now. [.....] "You ready for this, Rogue?" It was funny hearing someone else call him that, but his name sounded good being said by the Doctor. Rogue liked it. It fitted.

Also Rogue "immediately recalled a quite complicated winter with Houdini". Apparently him and the Doctor has an ex in common.

They explain what happened to the gun.

"Now, trap, please." Rogue handed it over but immediately regretted doing this so willingly. Sure, this man's ship was brilliant. But the trap, that was his. "And your disseminator?" "Only if you handle it carefully," said Rogue, keeping his eyes locked on the Doctor, worried what the plan could be for his precious creation. The Doctor took it calmly. Then he snapped the disseminator in half. "Hey!" Rogue shouted. "Do you want to save everyone or not? Look, watch me." And Rogue did, as the Doctor moved some parts from the disseminator into Rogue's trap, then attached it to the TARDIS, using cables. Rogue found himself fighting not to remember the hours of work that building the disseminator had taken. He had to let this go. "Okay, past me the hyperdyne link," said the Doctor. "Blue wire, under the switch, there." Rogue did as he was told, eager to see exactly what new monstrosity the Doctor had turned his favourite gadget into. The Doctor grabbed the cable and plugged it into the newly upgraded trap. It sizzled slightly. "I can't believe you broke my stuff!" Rogue complained. The Doctor stopped what he was doing and looked at him, dead serious. "Whatever the Chuldur have done, I can't let you kill them. I also can't let them kill others. So, instead, we'll send them to a random, barren dimension. No one to hurt there and no way back." "Random? So I can't trace them," Rogue protested. The Doctor just nodded as the trap continued to whirr behind them. "Don't pout too much. When we're not trying to kill each other, we're a good team."

"You know, you don't have to stay a bounty hunter. You could travel with me. Oh the worlds I could show you, Rogue." "And what if I like what I do?" Rogue got the feeling that when people met the Doctor, they would often uproot everything for him. Why should that always be the case? Rogue had just as much to offer in adventure.

"I'd like that." Rogue felt that swell in his chest, that nervous energy as he took another step towards him. He was very aware that their faces were almost touching. It would only take one of them to lean in a bit closer, and they were already so close, so close that they could almost-- Ping! The console in the TARDIS chimed. "The trap is ready," the Doctor said, and the moment was gone. He moved back to the console as Rogue stood there, recovering. He could hear the Doctor speaking down at the console, but he barely registered what he was saying. He just nodded, lost. What was he getting himself into?

And then I went ahead and typed up the entire chapter 19, because the whole thing is an imaginary letter from Art to Rogue.

Chapter 19 A Letter to Rogue Dear Rogue It feels silly, writing you this letter, but I hope it finds you. So we're clear too, I don't want this as a Please don't mourn for me or some other such nonsense. Honestly, I am quite irritated that it wasn't you that died... Would I say that? I suppose. Whatever helps your imagination. I know you've likely dreamt up and read this letter many times. I fully understand why; I was good chat. However, if only for your negotiation skills, I hope you've made at least one friend since my passing. Imaginary letters from dead boyfriends can't be your only form of communication. Of course, if the person reading this is his only friend then I gleefully warn you: Rogue is stubborn. He says he will clean that particular corner of the ship, but I promise you he won't. I spent ten years asking and I could have put that time into something actually productive. I could have learned at least five more languages in the time I would have saved. So take my advice. Give in to this reality. Admit defeat. It will never happen. A few other things to note: his snoring can and will wake up the most dangerous animals, and for some reason - despite eating pretty much everything - bread with any kind of seeds or olives in is an absolute no. I agree, it's a real failing on his part. Apart from this, however, what you will find is a great man who I loved with every part of my soul. Please give him a hug from me and do not name a child or dog in my memory when you move in together. A cactus is fine, though. And Rogue, if it is you reading this letter, don't let me worry about you. I did enough of that when I was around and oh, the time I wasted. Don't hide. And please don't go fixing up our ship for ever. I was the mechanic anyway. Live. Talk with everyone. Laugh. Dare to ask someone, 'Is this seat taken?' And, most importantly, don't forget to dance. That's the best part. Yours, Art

So anyway, after that heartbreak, it's back to more action.

"Should we be telling humans?" Rogue asked cautiously, leaning in behind him. The Doctor noticed Ruby's curious expression. "Oh! Ruby 2024 and Emily 1813, this is Rogue, he's a bounty hunter and almost incinerated me." "A mistake he said he was letting go of." Rogue held out his hand to Ruby and Emily, who both went for it at the same time and ended up shaking it together.

"But what does it all mean?" Emily gasped. "Are we all going to die?" The Doctor and Ruby exchanged a look: Who is going to take this? To their surprise, Rogue stepped up. "There's a creature from another planet at this party," he said. "Highly dangerous, it can look like anyone it's killed and if it gets you ---" He looked at her, dead serious. "It'll drain your life in a second." Emily's eyes widened and she hurriedly began to fan herself, presumably as an alternative to fainting. "We need to work on your people skills," the Doctor said as Ruby put her arm around Emily, trying to calm her. "Now, let's find our Duchess!" He looked over at Rogue, exhilarated. This was one hell of a first date.

The Doctor could already feel people starting to turn and whisper but his focus wasn't on that. All he was thinking about was Rogue. Rogue's hand on his shoulder, his chest. Rogue's eyes locked with his as the pair of them turned and twirled across the floor.

"We need to have a big fight so I can storm off alone and draw her to us," the Doctor said, spinning Rogue away from him. "Can't I storm off alone?" said Rogue. "I would rather not talk in front of this many people." "Oh, come on, Rogue," said the Doctor. "I'm sure you talk to lots of people. Your bounties for a start." He gave his hand a little squeeze and whispered, "I believe in you." "Doctor, please!" Rogue protested. He was too late. The Doctor pulled away from him and gasped. "How dare you, my Lord!" he shouted. He was incredibly pleased to hear the music stop immediately, the crowd turning to stare. It was so deliciously dramatic. "You would ask me to give up my title, my fortune -" he chewed up every word, really hamming it up - "but what future can you promise me?" Rogue didn't say a word back. He just looked at him pleadingly and stuttered slightly. "Say anything," the Doctor whispered, then raised his voice again. "Tell me what your heart wants, or I shall turn my back on you for ever." By way of illustration, he literally did turn his back on Rogue. He looked at the crowd, hearing nothing but silence behind him. Then a gasp. The Doctor turned and faced Rogue again, who was now down on one knee. He had pulled off a ring from his finger and was holding it up to him. Rogue was proposing. Fast mover indeed. The Doctor knew this was a moment of fun, for the drama. Despite that, he couldn't stop a jolt of panic. "Sorry... I can't," the Doctor said. He raced out of the ballroom, and Rogue chased after him.

The worlds I could show you. That's what the Doctor had said to him in the TARDIS. A phrase that was playing over and over in his head. Rogue looked over and saw the Doctor, waiting for him, hidden behind a hedge. He felt a rush of excitement as he tried to focus. He'd not been asking the Doctor for marriage, but for some simple commitment. A sign he could stay longer than this one adventure. To see those worlds he'd promised. At least for a little while. Now he couldn't stop wondering how much of their connection was real and how much had been for show.

To escape the Chuldur, Rogue and the Doctor dive into the lake, where Rogue finds the body of the real Lord Barton. He almost panics and has to go back up, but the Doctor takes his hand and calms him down, so they can stay hidden long enough.

They get out of the lake soaking wet, and the Doctor makes a comment about "Ruby was right, this is a bit Mr. Darcy."

Then there's a wonderful additional scene, where Rogue is initially refusing to help because it's too dangerous, and he's too scared after having lost Art.

He had expected one Chuldur, that was the contract. Not a family. He'd counted at least five. These were very bad odds. "I'm not being paid enough for this." "Paid or not, people have died." The Doctor had his sonic screwdriver out and he was fiddling with the waterlogged trap while they walked. Rogue thought he was as focused on fixing machines as Art had been. Annoyingly, both of them had the ability to do that and argue at the same time. "We go back there, we'll die," Rogue insisted. "So you'll just walk away?" Rogue stopped.

Rogue had read about family of Chuldur. One that had destroyed every place it visited, leaving no survivors. In the past, he would have dived headlong into this kind of danger without batting an eyelid. He loved the rush of adrenalin and he had that stubborn will to reach his target, whatever it took. Then he had suffered the cost. The Doctor was wrong. He wouldn't just walk away from all this. He'd run. "There's too many. It's not my problem." Rogue quickened his pace away from the manor and towards the Yossarian. This time, the Doctor did not follow him. He had stopped still, determined not to take another step. Rogue reluctantly stopped too and turned back to face him. "If it's not our problem, whose is it?" The Doctor's voice was cold, angry. "Who do you think will help these people if we don't? You're here. You've seen what they're doing. You are choosing not to care." In the dark garden, Rogue stood defiantly across from the Doctor, his breath shallow and fast. He'd hit a nerve. Rogue had had years of practice at not caring and didn't want to change now. The Doctor was calm in comparison, determined and immovable. Rogue knew that if he chose to walk away now, he would be walking away alone.

Rogue agrees to help, but is still scared and trying to convince the Doctor to leave with him, and WEEHH GUYS.

The Doctor was about to clamber through when Rogue reached for his hand. "Are you sure?" Rogue asked, his voice soft. They were facing beings that had destroyed cities, taken countless lives. How could the two of them stop such creatures? And with one shot? He felt a deep ache in his chest; he couldn't lose someone else. Rogue looked pleadingly at the Doctor. If he gave himself enough time and distance, he could learn to forget his troubles and bury his guilt. He could stop himself from caring. Rogue had done it before. He could do it again. He could show the Doctor how. "We could go anywhere," he said. "I'm going in here," replied the Doctor. Not a waver in his voice, not a second of doubt. Rogue looked into the Doctor's eyes and knew that he would never stop caring. Could never stop wanting to help, to fight, to go on. That was who he was. The Doctor let go of Rogue's hand and climbed in through the window, and Rogue did what he knew he would do for ever. Follow him.

Absolutely unhinged content, thanks Kate and Briony. Rogue wanting to leave makes his ultimate sacrifice SO MUCH MORE INTENSE.

When the Doctor finds out about Ruby, he almost lunges himself at the Chuldur, and Rogue has to pull him back so they can remain hidden.

And then, absolutely heartbreakingly, as the Doctor tries to find some other solution for maybe bringing Ruby back:

He was desperate, and Rogue's silence gave him every answer he didn't want. Rogue slowly opened his arms, and the Doctor fell into them and sobbed. "I'm sorry," Rogue said over and over.

The Doctor absolutely hams his speech up, and there's a minor change as Rogue is there to help him set up the triform trap. (Emily, like a fool, just accidentally walks straight into the trap!)

And then we reach the final sacrifice.

Seven… Rogue didn't want to push him, but they were running out of time. "They'll kill us, then everyone here. They'll destroy this world.' Six… Rogue was next to the Doctor now. He could hear him breathing hard. "And you know that, you absolutely know that." All that torment was wrapped so tight around his chest that Rogue could feel his heaviness, his dread. "So, can you do it? Can you lose your friend to save the world?" Five… The Doctor started to cry. "No." "I know." Rogue smiled at the kind, brilliant, amazing man in front of him. Four… Then he stepped forward and wrapped the Doctor in his arms and kissed him. It was a soft, passionate kiss, full of promise. The moment was tender. Romantic. It was theirs. Three… Rogue stepped back and gave the Doctor one last smile, revealing he had taken the trigger device from him. Then he turned quickly and ran full pelt into the trap. Two… It flicked on and off as the Chuldur tried to scramble to the edges. Emily moved a step towards Ruby, grabbing at her as Rogue barrelled in. He knocked Emily to the trap floor, causing Ruby to be thrown free. Only one shoe left behind. One… Rogue looked down at his feet inside the glowing triangle and back up to the Doctor. He was now trapped with the Chuldur, but he was not afraid. Rogue could not have let the Doctor say goodbye to the person he was closest to. He knew that pain too well to let the Doctor hold it, even for a second. And so he'd known the decision he had to make. He couldn't lose anyone else. But he was ready to be the one who was lost. Zero. "Find me," Rogue said as he pressed send. The patch of triangular floor turned jet black, as the Chuldur started to scream and fall. Rogue caught a last glimpse of the Doctor before he dropped down into the darkness of the Transport Gate. As he fell, his mind had one, clear thought. Worth every second.

The rest goes about as it does in the episode. We don't get the Doctor's immediate reaction to the loss. But as Ruby hugs him, "The Doctor leant into it and let himself feel what he had buried for a moment. Not all of it but just enough to carry on with the day."

And then of course he discovers the ring in his pocket and he puts it on. "A little piece of Rogue to go with him."

And you'd think that would be the end, but there is ONE MORE CHAPTER, which I'm just gonna quote in its entirety, because it's insane, you guys.

Chapter 33 The Forgotten Place A howl in the darkness. The wind growled ferociously around a barren and abandoned planet, far out in the forgotten reaches of space. Giant grey rocks covered the surface. As the wind hit them, charcoal-sand blasted up, creating sandstorms wherever it hit. This was the only movement on the surface and, at first glance, it would have seemed the only sign of life. But if you looked more closely, there was a light. From the mouth of a cave, the bright glow of a campfire burned through the grey. Inside, sat a man. Rogue. He was trying to keep warm. Rogue had been there for what felt like months. The cave had been a saviour, sheltering him from the environment but also from the enemies sent here with him. He had lost them, at least for now. As time passed in the cave, any concept of a day had folded in on itself. Rogue kept his mind busy with the simple tasks of staying alive: build the fire, watch the fire, build the fire again. Rinse, repeat. Thankfully, there was some food to be found on this planet - mainly winged dalnats and other small cave-dwelling creatures. But they were not enough. Rogue knew that if the cold didn't get him, starvation would. What this planet didn't know, however, was that Rogue could not be broken so easily. He had made a promise to himself. He had agreed that he wasn't going to be lost any more. Because Rogue had realised he was worth finding. As the fire began to die, Rogue thought of the man he had come here for. The magnificent being who was beyond any comprehension of existence. The one known to most as the Doctor. Of all the timelines they could both have inhabited, Rogue was grateful that their eyes had met on this one. What a great surprise that had been from the universe. Yes, right now, he was lonely, but time wasn't linear, and this was his favourite thing about it. Rogue was sitting in this cave, but he was also walking with the Doctor in the garden, he was laughing with Art in the Yossarian, he was falling from a building, he was running from one memory of his life to another. All at once. Rogue was in the Doctor's arms, spinning around and around, for ever.

So there it is. Absolutely gorgeous book.

There's a bunch of stuff I didn't include, a bunch of extra stuff about the Chuldur. But also the first adventure with Art, and a bunch of extra minor stuff.

So please please do get the book if you can!

[gavisuntiedboot]

How do you think gavi would be if it was the readers first time? would he still be aggressive and have a fast pace?

btw love ur writing❤️

First Time with Gavi

Doing this in bullets cause I fee like it!! SMUT. SMUTTTT. 18+ ONLYYYYYYY. MINORS GO AWAYYYYYYY.

Pablo, in my opinion, tries his hardest not to be with virgins. It's too much commitment and too much obligation. He didn't want to from that kind of connection with someone who he wasn't ready to settle down with

He had mentioned this to you offhandedly one night, as you both sipped on drinks and played cards - a casual hangout. You bit your lip anxiously but said nothing.

You had been with guys before and were what was lovingly called a "technical virgin" - someone who had fooled around and done other things, but had never actually gone so far as to have sex.

You had never found a man that you wanted to go all the way with, and so you continued to satisfy yourself and ya know, *fantasize*

When you and Gavi started talking, it was something you had never felt before - a desire that you never had towards anyone else

You knew almost instantly that you wanted your first time to be with him, but you were nervous because of what he had said before about not wanting to be with a virgin

So when you got to the stage in your relationship where things started to turn more sexual, you were nervous, trying to avoid full sex as much as possible

You did this through multiple tactics - saying you were on your period or too tired.

If you were out of excuses, you would go down on him, satisfying him in other ways to get his mind off of sex

Eventually, he started to get suspicious. He thought you were just playing hard to get, so he tried to make his meetings with you more romantic.

From music to candles to rose petals, he did everything in his power to make you believe he was worthy of you - that he was committed to you and not just after a quick fuck

But nothing seemed to work. Each time, you two would fool around and do other things, but you never went all the way with him. He was growing more and more concerned over this fact, thinking that you just didn't trust him.

So one day while you were cuddling on your couch he asked you about it, wondering if you didn't trust him enough to have sex with him, or if you just weren't interested in general

You go red in the face, heart pounding - you never expected him to confront you about the fact that you two had yet to have sex

Instead of being honest, you pulled a J. Cole Wet Dreamz (listen to this song if you haven't to get the reference).

Thinking it would ruin your relationship if you confessed your virginity, you told him the reason you two had yet to have sex was because he couldn't handle it.

Yes dear reader, you told Gavi that you were such a stallion, so wild in bed, that he would need several days to recover, and that's why you had yet to sleep with him.

His eyes widened with a mixture of fear and excitement, and now you were really in deep shit. You now not only had to pretend that you weren't a virgin, but also that you were a borderline porn star.

But the response seemed to satiate Gavi for now, so you went with it, and in the following days forgot the whole convo.

That is until he texted you saying that the team would have a week off after their next cup game, so he had enough time to recover (wink wink)

"I'll see you on Saturday, Princesa. Then you can finally show me what I've been missing ;)"

You paled and broke into a cold sweat at the thought, and spent the next week watching an unhealthy amount of porn so that you could take notes on everything going on.

When Saturday rolled around, you were a nervous wreck to say the least.

Your doorbell almost gave you a heart attack as you opened the door to find Gavi, in gray trousers and a white t-shirt, a dozen deep red roses in hand.

After a couple pleasantries, you two found yourselves in the bedroom, with his arms peeling off his own shirt and then working on your dress.

You tried to remember everything you watched over the past week, flipping your positions to straddle Gavi's lap.

You helped him remove his pants and he gripped the soft flesh of your ass, kneading it between his fingers and giving it a light smack, causing you to let out a small yelp of surprise.

"You're in for the ride of your life mi amor", he whispered in your ear, playing with the waistband of your panties.

Your anxiety went into overdrive and you pushed off of Gavi moving to the edge of the bed, hiding your face in your hands as you tried to slow your breathing.

Immediately he was concerned - did he do something wrong? What did he say?

He placed a hand on your back to comfort you, and you looked up at Gavi with tears welling in your eyes

"Pablo... I need to tell you something."

He prepared for the worst. His stomach had dropped, and he prepared himself to hear that you had slept with someone else.

"I... I've never done this before."

The shock of your statement had him widen his eyes at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"huh?"

"I've never had sex before."

A smile broke out onto his face as he processed what you were saying, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because you said you don't fuck virgins."

Pablo's laugh echoed through your bedroom, and you hid your face in your hands once again

"Why are you laughing?" "Because when I said that I obviously didn't mean you, stupid. You're my girlfriend, not someone I just met. We're already attached emotionally even without sex."

He swiped your tears with his thumb, pulling you into his chest.

"We don't have to do this tonight, I'll wait for as long as you need. You really thought telling me you were wild in bed was the better alternative?"

You groaned into his chest as he kept laughing. You pressed your forehead to his and placed a swift peck on his lips. You knew you wanted to have sex with Gavi. And now that he had reassured you that he wouldn't leave because you're a virgin, the warmth in your stomach started to spread.

"I know we don't have to, but I want to. With you. Tonight." "Are you sure? I promise there's no pressure." "I'm certain. I want you to be the first person to fuck me, Pablo."

His jaw went slack at your words, and he captured your lips in a searing kiss, arms around your waist pulling you in.

He moved so you were underneath him, pulling away and kissing your forehead gently.

"Princesa, we're not about to fuck. We're about to make love. I want to love you gently like you deserve, angel."

He kissed your neck slowly, making his way up to your ear.

"I have to break you in first. Then we can fuck."

He would be so caring with you, constantly asking if you felt okay

Lots of kisses and gentle touches and praise

"You like that? You're doing so good for me, Princesa"

Would definitely forget to let you adjust to his size, entering you a little rougher than he should

He would stop completely, leaning over you and nuzzling into your neck so that he could stop himself from bucking up into you because you're just so fucking tight.

You would be clenching so hard around him, unable to relax at the new stretch.

"Amor, you're going to have to relax. If you keep gripping me this, I'm not going to last."

You tried to breathe and tried to relax, but the feeling - the stretch - was just too overwhelming.

He brought his lips to yours, pressing a long kiss into you, trying to distract you from the overload on your senses

He moved back to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, as he brought one hand down to your clit, rubbing circles into it.

You cried out, the stretch finally feeling familiar, and the waves of pleasure from Gavi's movements rolling up your body.

"Please... move"

He started thrusting slowly, pulling out half way and slowly sheathing himself inside you once again, fingers still playing with your clit, lips still on your neck

You started moving your hips along with his, bucking into him and urging him to go harder

He kept the drag of his hips slow, but thrust back into you more forcefully as you whined out for more.

"Don't worry, Princesa. Just enjoy me being romantic. There's time for me to be rough with you later."

He pushed one leg up, bringing the knee to rest against your chest, allowing him to hit even deeper.

You looked up at him with big teary eyes, so overwhelmed with all the new sensations.

He brought his fingers to your mouth, encouraging you to suck on them, before he brought them back down to your clit

He was determined to have you cum first, and it needed to happen fast, because the way you were clenched around him, he was not going to last long.

You felt your climax approaching, and you let out higher and higher moans as you got closer to the edge.

"Ah, fuck, Pablo... Pablo... Pablo"

You repeated his name over and over as you came - it was the only word left in your head

The chanting of his name had Gavi cumming mere seconds after you, wanting to pull out, but you clenched around him so tightly you could do nothing but press his chest to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck, and whispering how much he adored you

When you two were calm and clean, he would bring you some underwear and a hoodie you had stolen from him, getting in bed with you and cuddling you close.

He would ask you how you felt, but you were still in a state of bliss, looking up at him with love and sex drunk eyes.

He would hold you against his chest, letting you just listen to his heart beat

"Was that everything you hoped your first time would be, angel?"

"Better, Pablito. First times are usually awkward."

"Well I mean that's usually because people are teenagers when they-"

"Shut up."

He would laugh and pull you in tighter, kissing the top of your head.

"Don't get used to this princess treatment. Now that I've gotten a taste of you, I'm coming at you morning and night. We're gonna make you into the sex goddess you claimed to be, baby."

~~~~~~

A/N: I feel like I do these headcannons/ bullet lists wrong but whatever. Hope you guys enjoy this one!! I've been working on it for a couple days. I have two essays due in the next week so I won't be posting as often, but once I'm on break I'll be writing the next part of JP and going back and doing some of the Feb prompts that I missed!! Love y'all <<33