#i wasn’t able to watch that episode live

[ittybittyremy]

Thinking about it now, the majority of Orym mischaracterization comes from him (and Liam) saying one little thing and people taking it to the extreme

“You called a hit on my family” and now Orym forgot about his living family and doesn't care about them

“Thinking in black and white is comforting” and suddenly Orym only thinks in black and white

“The gods are watching” and now Orym is 100% pro-god

“We're at war” and now Orym is a man who only cares about vengeance

“I am pressuring her” and suddenly he will always choose the mission over bh's wellbeing

“I have also spent time thinking how to neutralize each of you” and now he will gladly kill bh the second they turn dark

“Every one of us makes our decisions with the lenses or prisms we see life through. I can't take mine down” and suddenly he's incapable of having any productive conversations

[butcherb1rd]

genloss is so fucking wild holy shit. the jump in production and acting from episode 1 to episode 2 is crazy. jerma. ethan crankgameplays nestor. the incredible sets. what the fuck

[withahappyrefrain]

Unraveled- Bob Floyd

Summary: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, so much pining, language,

Bob Floyd didn't like to brag, but he considered himself pretty dang smart and sensible. 

He knew the ins and outs of every jet he has flown. Hell,  he could break it apart and put it back together again within a few hours, if that.  He was able to quickly assess a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and come to a sound decision. It’s why he was the top WSO for the mission in Miramar. 

So why has a piece of fabric thrown him for such a loop? 

All Bob was trying to do was be polite. You had mentioned taking an Uber to the Hard Deck tonight and Bob knew the polite thing to do was to offer a ride. After all, he wasn't going to drink. You would save money. It's what any good friend would do. It had absolutely nothing to do with the crush he had been harboring since your first debriefing. 

He was just trying to be courteous. The gentleman his Mama worked hard in raising. Getting to spend time with you, without the other members of your shared squadron around or loud music, wasn't even near the forefront of his mind when he made the offer. Bob was just trying to be a good friend. A good friend who just wanted to help. A good friend who was forcing himself to look at you through a platonic lens, not a romantic one. 

Bob liked to think he was doing pretty well at that. 

That is, until a dress came along and unraveled him. 

Perhaps you said hello when you opened the door.  You probably did, considering how polite you were. But all Bob could focus on was the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves. 

And what little fabric there was. He had seen you in civilian clothes before. But never anything like this. His mind absolutely went blank when you hugged him and he could feel how much of your bare skin was exposed. Due to the halter style of the straps, nearly your whole upper back was now perfectly visible.

“Um you-you look um nice,” Bob barely got out. He was too busy trying to burn the feeling of your soft skin into his brain. You were warm, like a walking ray of sunshine. 

“Thanks! I got it yesterday and I figured with the weather being so nice, today was the perfect day to wear it!” you said, giving a little twirl. Bob tried to focus on the pattern of dress; how the green brought out your eyes. 

But all he could focus on was the curves of your body, now being highlighted. The way the halter style made your breasts swell and the lack of a bra very apparent. How the fabric stopped at the top of your thighs when you spun, giving Bob a peek of what he often thought about late at night. 

This was bad. 

“I take it you came early to watch an episode of Love Island before we leave?” You asked as he stumbled walked in.

The truth was, Bob wasn’t a fan of reality TV. But he watched because it gave the two of you a chance to talk to one another. Just as friends, nothing more. When watching the silly show, you two could make jokes, talk about things other than work. 

“Yeah! Ready to watch hot people make poor decisions again,” Bob said with a nervous laugh. The joke failed to put him at ease. If anything, it reminded him that he was about to spend at least forty minutes with you and that did not include the drive to the Hard Deck. 

“You’re using my tagline!” your smile lit up your whole face. Bob was certain it could light up the whole turmac. All he could do was nod, his heart fluttering when you grabbed his hand, leading him into the living room. 

"I have some kettle corn in the microwave for you! I also made cherry seltzer water!" Bob could feel heat rush to his face. You always remembered the little details that no one else seemed to pick up on; that he loved salt but had an even bigger sweet tooth. How in an attempt to cut back on soda, he switched to sparkling water. His favorite flavor was cherry because it reminded him of cherry coke. 

"Did you see the video I sent you?" You gently squeezed Bob's hand as you two sat down. 

"Y-yeah. You're absolutely right, having three otters would be my dream." Ever since learning about Bob's favorite animal, you had sent him every otter-related video you came across while scrolling the internet. You even got him a pair of Otter socks for his birthday.  It was the fact you paid attention to seemingly minor details that made Bob fall head over heels for you. 

But alas, you were a coworker. The problem at hand wasn't whether it was allowed, ‘incest’ (as Jake unfortunately called it) happened all the time in the Navy. After all, there were only so many things you could do on a ship before switching to people. No, it was the potential issues that came with dating. Rejection being the main one. Bob had no trouble believing you and he could be professional should you two date and it not work out. That happened all the time. What worried him was rejection. Having to go to work everyday and put on a facade, that things were fine. When deep down, he knew he'd be heartbroken. And even worse, he'd no longer have your friendship. 

So Bob settled, as he often did when it came to love. He took comfort knowing he'd still have you, albeit as a friend instead of a partner. That should be more than enough. For the last few months, he had convinced himself that it was enough. 

But God was it difficult when you bent over right to grab the remote. 

The hemline of your dress inched upwards, showing off the backs of your upper thighs and- 

he could see the swell of your ass. He could see the flash of red lace. Your skin looked so soft and supple and you were so close he could just reach out and- 

Oh God he was hard. Oh no. 

This was bad. Worse than that time he popped an erection during sex ed in middle school. There, he at least had a jacket and a desk to cover it. 

But here? He was a full grown adult and San Diego’s seventy degree weather didn't give him any additional layers. Bob looked around, desperate for something, anything, to hide his cock that was currently straining against his jeans. 

Thank fuck for your love of decorative pillows. 

He grabbed the closest one, shaped and designed like a pomegranate. You were so excited the day you picked it up from some Facebook Marketplace deal. He had driven you, partly out of wanting to spend time with you, partly because he wanted to ensure you were safe. It was adorable and definitely shouldn’t be used for nefarious purposes, such as hiding a boner. This was wrong, so fucking wrong.   

Bob was trying to think of anything and everything that would kill this boner. But his spot on the couch aligned perfectly with the entranceway of the kitchen, where you currently were, rummaging around to fix Bob a drink. 

What ever happened to doors? Why were people so opposed to doors? Doors were lovely. You could close doors. Every time he tried to think of something, you were right in his line of view, turning every thought into something more devious. 

His family? His family would love you. If you two got married you could make  your own family. 

Work? You worked with him, in that damn flight suit that clung to your every curve. No one else could make that god forsaken green fabric look good.  

School? God, you were so smart. The top of your class. And witty, always ready with a clever, underhanded comeback. It’s how you two originally bonded, both having muttered something about Jake under your breath. 

Bob Floyd was screwed. Thoroughly. 

He tried to comfort himself with the fact that soon you two would be watching people in their early twenties making the dumbest decisions over dating. If anything were to be a boner killer, that had to be it. He just needed to make it through then. 

“Bob?” Your lithe voice broke him out of his thoughts. Not that it was much of a reprieve, with the way you were standing at the kitchen entranceway with a glass of sparkling water in each hand, “You good?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He said with an all too eager nod, desperate to convince you this was truly the case. Fuck, you were so beautiful. And you were showing so much skin. He had seen you on the beach before, adorned in athletic shorts and a sports bra. But this was different. 

The dress was far too nice for the Hard Deck. No, you deserved to be taken to a nice restaurant, one with a lovely outdoor patio. The image of you sitting on a lovely chair with a glass of wine in your hand came easily to Bob. It was also the perfect dress for a picnic, particularly at the nearby park, specifically in that little secluded area. God, the idea of you laying down on a red and white checkered blanket, the hem of your dress pushed up your thighs as he leaned over you, ready to take you-

Bob leaned forward, clutching the pillow as he tried to will himself the strength to get it together. 

“Bob? Are-are you okay?” You quickly placed the drinks down on the coffee table, rushing over to kneel in front of him on the couch. 

Oh what a sight that was, you looking up at him with big eyes, full of concern. Your hands were on his biceps, and Bob knew if he looked down he would have the perfect view of your breasts. 

 It was so hot and also the very last thing Bob fucking needed. 

“I’m good. Stomach doesn’t agree with what we had for lunch, that’s all.” Lying was never good, his mother instilled that in him at an early age. But in this scenario, Bob was certain the truth was much worse. 

“I’ll go get you a ginger ale!” Bob opened his mouth to protest, though no words came out due to seeing not only the tops of your thighs, but a flash of your ass as you spun around to go back into the kitchen. 

For a few seconds, the  supple, plump flesh was so close to him. Practically within arm’s reach. 

Maybe he should just leave while you were in the kitchen. 

But that would be rude. Not only rude, but it would raise your suspicions if they weren’t high already. Plus, he had already promised you a ride to the Hard Deck. He couldn’t just leave you hanging, not after you brought a dress for the occasion. He may be in dire need of a cold shower, but the last thing Bob Floyd was going to do was hurt you. He squeezed the pillow, knuckles turning white as he tried to find strength. For once, he couldn’t wait to start an episode of Love Island. Hell, he would even take an episode of The Bachelor at this point. 

“Here ya go,” You sat down on the couch next to him, glass of ginger ale in hand. You even remembered how much ice he preferred in his cold beverages. You were perfect. 

“Thanks,” Bob slowly took one hand off the pillow, the other still holding onto it for dear life. 

“You uh, like that pillow?” You chuckled, though your nerves still shined through. 

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Bob looked down, ensuring his big problem was still covered, “It uh, helps my stomach!”

You raised an eyebrow, though you didn’t further question it. Instead, much to Bob’s delight, you reached for the remote, clicking through until you finally landed on the desired episode. With a shaking hand, Bob gulped down the ginger ale, promptly placing it on the coffee table so he could have both hands on the pillow. 

The room was silent, saved for the ridiculous conversations happening on the TV screen. Normally you and Bob would be shoulder to shoulder, laughing as you both narrated your opinions on the contestants. But today Bob was rigid, his fingers still clutching to the pillow on his lap. He hadn’t even touched the bowl of popcorn. 

"Do you like my dress?" It took everything in Bob not to groan at your question. The last thing he needed was a reason to look at you. But how could he deny himself such a chance? So he put on his best smile as he turned to face you.    

"Uh yeah it's lovely. I'm sure everyone will love it-" 

"I got it for you.” Your voice was soft as you hit the pause button on your remote, eyes remaining on the screen. 

The words hit Bob like a freight train. 

"What? Why would you-"

You shrugged, fingers toying with the short hem of your dress, "I thought maybe, if you saw me in something different, something that wasn't my flight suit or a tee shirt, that maybe you would finally notice me?” 

You finally looked him in the eyes, “Maybe you'd finally notice that I've been trying to flirt with you for the last few months?" 

Bob opened his mouth just to promptly close it. He thought back to the last few months, now analyzing every seemingly ordinary interaction he had with you. 

The way you insisted on sitting next to each other during lunch. As well as during briefings. And when you went to the Hard Deck. Whenever a guy tried to flirt with you there, you turned them down, focusing your attention back on him, continuing your conversation about his latest D&D campaign or a Lego set you had found that reminded you of him. The way you always touched his arm, your hand lingering on his skin as you bore your eyes into his. How you always texted him. How you baked a cake for his birthday. The little trinkets you’d bring him. 

Oh god, he was a fucking idiot. 

The tension in the room was thick. You, sitting restlessly as you waited for Bob to acknowledge what you had said. Bob, processing your words and what they meant. 

“How long?” Bob asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You chuckled as you shook your head, “Honestly? First day. We hadn’t even spoken yet. I saw you walk in and you just were….not only handsome but also looked so kind? Then you offered me a spare pencil, made that comment about Jake’s driving and I….was a goner.”

“I saw you talking to Halo before the briefing room was open,” He confessed, “She said something that made you laugh and it….it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen.”

“We’ve wasted a lot of time, huh?” You both stared ahead at the TV, still too fearful to face each other. 

Bob dryly chuckled, “Yeah….a lot of time. Months, if we’re being more exact.” 

The two of you remained in silence, your words sinking in. Neither sure what should be said, if anything should be said. Until finally, you spoke up. 

“Bob? What’s underneath the pillow?” 

His hips shifted, involuntary, “What?” For a moment, he forgot about the darn pillow and the erection he was covering with it. 

The cluelessness in his voice brought a giggle, “The pillow? Why are you using it to cover your lap?”

Bob sighed, “Can I at least kiss you first?” 

You nodded, moving to close the gap between you and Bob. Pillow be damned, his hands cupped your jawline, giving you a sweet smile before leaning in, closing the gap between your lips and his. 

Bob Floyd’s lips were soft, no doubt due to the sweet mint chapstick you'd watch him apply countless of times. You didn't want to admit how often you'd wondered about the taste, what his hands would feel like on your body. God, they were huge. His thumbs rested comfortably on your jawline, but you could feel his other fingers spanning your neck, down to your collarbone. 

The first kiss was gentle, practically modest. Your lips were only apart for several seconds, if that, before connecting again. 

You easily found his shoulders, grasping them for purchase. The gap between your bodies was too much, Bob wanted to be as close as possible. So his hands trailed down your body, skimming along until they found the back of your thighs. Using his strength, he moved your body, situating you onto his lap. 

A high pitched gasp fell from your lips upon feeling the bulge that was straining against his jeans. Good god, he was thick. You had heard whispers, chalking it up to typical locker room talk. 

Nope, those rumors were one hundred percent true. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob groaned, hands exploring your soft curves. Worst of all, he sounded earnest, only making you want to touch him more. 

“I-I wore this on purpose ah-after all,” you confessed, finding it difficult to speak as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your exposed chest. 

Right. You wore this on purpose. To entice him. To see if perhaps he felt the same burning desire. Once realization hit him again, Bob’s hands moved along your back, just stopping above your ass. 

Wait, he was about to touch your ass. 

“We-we shouldn’t,” Bob mumbled, retracting his hands from your body. You stilled, a crestfallen look painting your face. 

“We shouldn’t?” Repeating the words felt like driving a knife through your heart. Had regret finally emerged, beating the rush of adrenaline? Was he going to regret this, ask that you two never speak about it ever again, pretend it never happened?

“I…” Bob sighed, “I need to take you on a date first.”

Bless his heart. 

Sighing, you relaxed your body into his, resting your head in the crook of his neck, “You’re too sweet, y’know that?”

Bob chuckled, “That's supposed to be my line.” 

His hands gave your hips a loving squeeze, causing you to nestle further into him, until your bodies were nearly molded as one. Your lips searched for his, trailing up his neck, his jawline, along the side of his button nose until finally reaching his soft lips. Bob shifted in his seat, causing you to do the same. As a result, you could feel his erection, despite the layers of clothes. 

“Good lord Bobby, you've just been walking around with all that?” Bob groaned, but not due to your words. No, it was because you had started moving your hips in circles, his erection now pressed against your covered core. 

“I’m- I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Bob couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to stop. He should stop. Maybe you two could skip the Hard Deck and go out to dinner. Then he could take you home and not feel as guilty. 

“You can be a gentleman later,” by throwing your arms over his shoulder you finally had access to his neck. His skin was so soft, so delicate. How could you not sink your teeth into his neck? 

Normally you'd have better self control than this. But you were ovulating and had six months of sexual frustrations and wet dreams- 

“You had dreams about me?” Uh-oh. That wasn't meant to be said out loud. Granted, maybe it was for the best to get everything out in the open. 

Timidly nodding, you explained, “Yeah. The days I didn't sit next to you were because….I had a dream about ya the night before.” 

A band had snapped within Bob, no doubt due to the numerous times you didn't sit next to him during briefings. 

Within seconds, you found yourself on your back against the couch, the bespectacled WSO hovering over you. There was a fire flickering in his blue eyes as he remained laser focused on your face. 

“After this, you're putting this dress back on and I'm taking ya out to dinner, is that clear?” his voice was gruff and deep, similar to when he did a hundred pushes that one day (that you definitely didn't think about while masturbating). 

Chest heaving, dress pushed up to your upper thighs, lips kiss bitten, God, you looked like an angel to Bob. He remembered learning about angels in church growing up. How pious they were, that seeing them was a sign of comfort, that they would guide one to safety, to a holy life. 

There was nothing holy about what he wanted to do to you. 

His mouth was hot, searing kisses along your skin. Your back arched into him, desperate for me. But he always seemed to pull away before you could get enough. Would you? Ever get enough of Bob Floyd? 

Finding an answer would have to wait, for now you wanted to relish in the feeling of Bob’s hands kneading your breasts. It was obvious you weren't wearing a bra, a fact Bob ob had spent forty minutes trying not to think about. He still felt a smidge of guilt, as though the newly drawn line between friends and more hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Was he even supposed to be doing this?

“You can keep going. I want you to.” You sensed his hesitation. In all the time you knew Bob, he had never taken someone home for a one night stand. He wasn’t like that. He needed time to build a connection, to feel comfortable enough to be himself. That’s why he loved spending time with you. With you, there was no need to put up a front, no need to be fearful of judgement. 

“And then afterwards, we can order some Thai food and continue watching the episode, if you want. Or we can just do that now,” your hands cradled his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you. He found a sweet, reassuring smile, similar to the one that made him smitten six months ago. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Bob could be blunt, and often was when it came to his colleague’s shenanigans. But with his own feelings? He always chose his words carefully. 

Hence why his admission took you some time to process. Bob could see it on your face; first your eyes widened, lips slightly parting as if driven by the need to respond immediately. But then your lips closed, your brain quickly gaining back self control. 

“I’m falling in love with you too Robby.” You were the only one who could call him that. It was that familiarity, that intimacy, that gave him the courage to move his hands to your hemline up to your hips, revealing the thin, lacy red fabric underneath. 

You were breathtaking. Always were. But this? This solidified things for Bob. You two had made a step forward in your relationship. Many things would still be the same. But there were now new things to experience. Simply another layer of intimacy had been added.

His long fingers skimmed over the fabric of your panties, every touch sending a spark of electricity along your spine. Every stroke caused a small gasp to fall from your lips, music to Bob’s ears. Lowering himself, Bob decorated your hips with opened mouth kisses. Finally, gaining enough courage, his fingers pushed your panties to the side. 

Fuck, you were wet. 

If there was any hesitation left in Bob, it died upon seeing how visibly aroused you were. He had done that. No one else. Lowering himself even more, he was now at eye level with your wet cunt. This wasn’t some vivid wet dream. 

When his touch licked a broad stripe up your slit, a broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. It was the prettiest sound Bob had heard. He wanted to hear it again. All the time. 

With more confidence, Bob begins lapping up your arousal, determined to taste every inch of you. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. Looking down, you see his glasses are now crooked, though you highly doubt Bob cares, given how his eyes are half closed in pleasure. 

Wait, was he grinding against the couch? 

The discovery caused your thighs to clamp over Bob’s ears, your hips thrusting upwards to get more of his talented tongue. Bob wasn't reserved around you, never had been. But this was a new side to him that you had wondered if it ever existed. Animalistic. Devouring. Loud. 

His groans vibrate against your core, only heightening the pleasure. Slowly, his right hand goes from your hips to your core, mouth moving to your clit as the long digits trace your opening. 

“Oh my God, please,” you all but beg, not quite ready to admit how often you thought about his fingers and how they would feel inside of you.

Always thinking about your comfort, Bob started off with just one finger. You tried to fuck yourself with it, your own fingers gripping the soft strands of his hair for better leverage. The thought of making you beg crossed Bob’s mind. Would you like that? Would you be open to that? There were so many new topics to discuss, so many new boundaries to explore now. 

You happily welcomed the stretch of two, three fingers. Bob found the little moans you let out to be quite adorable. He could feel his cock throb against his jeans, but pleasing you took priority. 

“C’mon honey. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His voice was low, husky even. 

“C-can you be inside me? Like your…your cock?” A broken groan fell from Bob’s lips at the very thought of being inside of you. 

“I don't….I don't think I'll last long,” he admitted sheepishly. Hell, he could probably come just from eating you out. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it sounded pretty good- bringing himself to the height of pleasure just from ravishing you. 

“I don't think I will either,” you giggled, “But we’ll….we have lots of other times to go slow.” 

Bob helped you sit up on the couch. “You wanna go to the bedroom?” He asked, thinking about how this could be more comfortable for you. 

Instead, you shook your head, hands moving to his jeans, hastily undoing the buttons. 

Now it was your turn to explore, to discover. There was a dark trail of hair that went past the waistband of his jeans. He wore boxer briefs. And Bob Floyd had the prettiest cock. 

His face turned bright red at the compliment, “Oh it's…I mean it's like fine, but it's not-” 

“Take the damn compliment Robert,” you all but scolded, eliciting a laugh from him, your favorite. The high pitch, near giggle one. The one that made your heart flutter. 

Feeling at ease, you moved so that you were hovering over Bob’s lap. Your fingers moved to the base of his cock, making you realize you would have to ease yourself into it. 

“I gotcha,” his hands found your hips, slowly easing you down. His sapphire eyes never left your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. He went slow, waiting until you made it vocally known you were ready for more. 

By the time you reached the base of Bob’s cock, you were a mess. You wanted him to move, to fuck you within an inch of your life. But he was also so big. The stretch was nothing you had experienced before. 

“Hey, we can take our time, okay? I know it's, that it's a lot,” he assured you, as though he could sense your internal conflict. His lips found yours, and in that kiss you found comfort. Bob grounded you, always had, whether it was up in the air or right here on your couch. 

How much time had passed, who was to say? You could recall both your phones vibrating a few times, no doubt messages from the rest of your squad. Those messages could wait. 

“I think I'm ready,” you whispered against Bob’s lips. He needed, digging his fingers into your hips to gain a better grip. With his help, you lifted yourself no more than a couple of inches off his cock, returning to the base. 

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Bob moaned. You just made Bob Floyd curse. Something not even a bird strike could do. That four letter word gave you the confidence to lift your hips up on your own accord, returning swiftly. Slowly, just an inch or two, which became several inches. Up and down motions turned to swiveling your hips in a circular rhythm. What was once a quiet living room, saved for a few small gasps and the static from the TV, had now become a symphony of melodic pants and groans. 

Bob could tell you were close. Your pussy was tightening around his cock more and more, your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, as if trying to anchor yourself. You practically whined at the sight of Bob taking two fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue. He lowered them to where your bodies connected. 

Upon first contact with your clit, your head dropped to the crook of his neck, unabashedly moaning his name, hips moving in a now frantic motion. 

“That's it, I gotcha.” Fuck, we he going to talk you through it? Was Bob Floyd a talker? Ironic, considering at work he was known as a man of few words. 

“Feels s’good, being inside ya.” Fuck, he was a talker. You were doomed, “Wanna, wanna make us cum. Bet ya gonna feel even better when ya soak- fuck- soak my cock.” 

Your brain was hazy. Was this real? If it was a vivid wet dream, you never wanted to wake up. Was it wrong to hope that you were in a medically induced coma, so that if this  was indeed a dream, you wouldn’t have to wake up so soon? Surely, your friends and family would understand upon meeting Bob. 

Then he pointedly thrusted his hips upwards, reminding you that no, this wasn’t a dream. No, you wouldn’t wake up feeling frustrated and unable to look him in the eye. After this, you two could go out to eat, on a real date. Not some hey let’s get dinner that feels like a date in everything except in name. You could also order delivery and cuddle up on the couch. Maybe you could even shower with him beforehand, and see his bare body, find out what was truly hiding underneath that flight suit. Oh, he was deceptively strong, you always knew that. But to see it, to feel the hard planes of his muscles? Oh, that would be quite the joy to experience. 

“Sweet girl,” you clenched at that nickname, you wanted him to continue calling you that for eternity, “Let go. Know ya want it.”

“I-I do,” you all but whined. Bob found the noise cute. What other sounds did you make? What would you sound like if he kept fucking you after you came? What about if he ate you out for hours? Or teased you until you were teetering on the edge?

There were so many questions, so many areas to explore. But for now, Bob was satisfied with experiencing how tightly you clenched his cock, how you practically sang his name as you came. Your release triggered his, pulling your hips down until they were flushed against his. His lips smashed against yours, swallowing your moans. 

Then there was silence. No words spoken. Only the sounds of panting, you both clearly trying to catch your breath, and kisses exchanged, ones that neither of you could resist giving. 

Realization hits you like a freight train. “I’m on birth control.”

Bob’s eyes widened, “Oh thank God.” He was usually so good about asking, about pulling out. But you….you made his brain feel like cotton. 

“You saying you don’t want to have kids with me?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek to let him know you were only saying it in jest. 

“Not yet.” You sat up to find he had an earnest smile on his face, cheeks rosy and eyes shining in adornment. 

Bob Floyd was going to be the death of you. 

So you brushed several strands of sandy brown hair off of his forehead, replacing them with a kiss, "Gotta get me a ring first."

Luckily, you were going to be the death of Bob Floyd.

[inkspiredwriting]

betrayal

A/N: four stages of breakup, I'm currently in stage two: Anger xD. A sweet story with a sweet five who loves y/n more than anything? At the moment I just don't see it. That's why I don't post any of my stories, but rather write new stories where Five is an asshole. That doesn't mean that I'll never post sweet five x Y/N stories again, it just means that I'm still angry at the moment, and in order to be able to write again, it helps me to let my anger out

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

The world had barely spun for a few hours since Five and Lila had vanished, but when Five and Lila finally returned, Y/N knew something was wrong. she stood in the doorway, watching Five and Lila enter the living room, their faces marked with weariness, their eyes carrying the weight of experiences that no one else could understand. The moment Five met her gaze, Y/N felt her heart clench. Something was wrong. There was a distance in his eyes, a hesitation in his movements that hadn't been there before. This was not the same man she had fallen in love with, the man who had fought tooth and nail to survive countless apocalypses, who had faced the end of the world and returned to her every single time. This man was different—distant, almost as if a part of him had never truly come back.

Lila stood beside him, her presence like a shadow that Y/N couldn’t shake. she had always known Lila was fierce, cunning, and strong, but now she could see something more—a bond between Lila and Five that hadn't been there before. It was in the way they stood, too close, the way they glanced at each other as if sharing secrets. It made Y/N’s stomach churn with a sickening sense of betrayal.

She knew something had changed, something that would shatter her world.

It wasn’t long before she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Five…” Y/N’s voice wavered as she stepped forward, searching his face for any sign of the man she loved. But he looked away, his jaw tightening as if he couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

the tension in the air was palpable. Diego stood beside Lila, their three children clinging to their mother, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface.

Y/N felt the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she held them back. She couldn’t fall apart. Not yet.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Five’s silence was deafening, and when he finally spoke, his words cut through her like a knife. “We were gone for seven years, Y/N. Seven years in a timeline we couldn’t escape.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears. “I know it was hard, but you made it back. You’re here now. We can fix this, Five. We can go back to how it was.”

Five shook his head, the pain in his eyes unbearable to witness. “It’s not that simple. Things changed… I changed. I didn’t want this to happen, but…I fell in love with Lila.”

Time seemed to stop. The world around Y/N blurred, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heart shattering into a million pieces. She stared at Five, her mind refusing to comprehend the words that had just come out of his mouth. Lila? Lila, who was married to Diego, who had three children with him?

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her vision narrowing as the weight of his confession settled on her shoulders. She wanted to scream, to hit him, to do anything to make the pain go away, but all she could do was stand there, trembling with fury and betrayal.

"You bastard," she whispered, her voice low and deadly. "You absolute bastard."

Five recoiled as if she had slapped him, but she didn’t care. The anger was boiling over now, a volcano ready to erupt. The room was deadly silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Everyone was staring at them now, the shock evident on their faces. Diego’s expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on Lila, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.

"You want to know what kind of man you are, Five?" Y/N spat, her voice shaking with fury as she faced him and the others. "You’re an asshole. An ungrateful, selfish asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants long enough to remember the woman he was supposed to love!"

The room fell into stunned silence, everyone staring at Y/N with wide eyes. Five opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N cut him off.

“How could you? After everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve fought for, you go and…fall in love with someone else? And not just anyone, but Lila? Diego’s wife? The mother of his children? I would rather sleep with a mannequin than ever fall in love with someone else, but I guess that’s the difference between us, isn’t it?"

Five flinched, but he didn’t back down. “I never meant for this to happen, Y/N. We were stuck there for seven years. We didn’t think we’d ever make it back.”

“So you gave up?” Y/N’s voice was rising now, the anger bubbling over. “You just gave up on us, on me? You preferred to think about having sex with Lila instead of finding a way back to me? The old Five never gave up. He never would’ve stopped fighting to get back to the people he loved. But you…you’re not him anymore, are you?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She turned her gaze to Lila, her voice dripping with venom. “And you…you disgust me. How could you do this to Diego? To your children? You betrayed them. You betrayed all of us.”

Lila’s face paled, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Diego stood beside her, his expression still unreadable, but Y/N could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain he was trying so hard to hide.

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. The moment she was outside, the tears she had been holding back finally broke free, streaming down her face as she collapsed onto the cold ground.

She wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing uncontrollably, the pain too much to bear. She had lost him. The man she had loved more than anything, the man she had waited for, had hoped for, had fought for…he was gone. And in his place was someone she didn’t recognize, someone who had betrayed her in the worst possible way.

Y/N had no idea how long she sat there, crying until there were no tears left to cry.. She felt completely and utterly alone, as if the world had turned its back on her.

But then she heard footsteps approaching, and she looked up to see Diego standing beside her. His face was filled with sorrow, his eyes red and puffy, but there was a softness in his expression that offered a small comfort.

“Y/N…” Diego’s voice was gentle as he sat down beside her. He didn’t say anything for a while, just sat there in silence, letting her cry. When she finally managed to calm down enough to speak, her voice was hoarse, broken.

“I don’t understand, Diego. I don’t understand how this happened. How could he fall in love with her? After everything we’ve been through, how could he just…forget about me?”

Diego sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know, Y/N. I really don’t. Lila and I…we had our problems. I wasn’t always the best husband, and I know why things went wrong between us. But you and Five…you two were perfect together. You were the strongest team I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand how he could do this.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, the pain still raw and aching in her chest. “I thought we had something special. I thought he loved me more than anything.”

“He did, Y/N. I know he did,” Diego said softly. “I think…I think being stuck there for so long messed with his head. It changed him in ways we can’t understand. But that doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t know how to move on from this, Diego. I don’t know how to live in a world where Five isn’t…mine.”

Diego put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Y/N leaned into him, grateful for the comfort even as the pain tore at her heart. She felt Diego’s chest heave as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re strong, Y/N. Stronger than anyone I know. You’ll get through this, I promise. And I’ll be here for you, whatever you need.”

Y/N nodded, though the pain still felt unbearable. She clung to Diego, letting the tears flow freely again, her heart breaking with every sob. She had lost the man she loved, the man she thought would be by her side forever. And now, she had to find a way to pick up the pieces and move on, even if it felt impossible.

As the day wore on, the two of them sat together, their grief shared and understood. And while Y/N knew the road ahead would be difficult, she also knew she wasn’t alone. She had her family, her strength, and the hope that someday, the pain would lessen, and she would find a way to heal.

But for now, all she could do was cry and try to make sense of the shattered pieces of her heart.

[bella-goths-wife]

Yandere Vees x platonic reader

Vox, velvette and Valentino x reader

Warnings: Valentino

Okay so you know how I move through stories so much because I hyperfixate on something and become obsessed with it? Well guess who watched the hazbin hotel show after watching the pilot episode years ago. And I saw so much yandere potential.

So let me know if you enjoy this and if I should make more.

You were quite a modern soul, with you dying around the 2010s

And you died quite young at the age of 18

So when you get to hell your pretty scared and confused, with no one around who could help you

So you did what you could to live, by surviving off scraps and sleeping rough on the streets

That also leads you into a life of crime as you relayed on robberies and mugging people to get enough cash to afford to eat for the week

But on day you make the grand mistake of trying to mug an overlord

Vox was simply trying to avoid paparazzi by going through the back alleys, that’s until he hears loud music out of no where

See, when you got to hell you were given your own special ability the same way the others had

Your ability was Turntablism

Which essentially means you could manipulate and create new sounds from your environment, similar to how a DJ can use turntables to manipulate and create new music from existing sounds

This means you could silence or enhance sounds around a demon and that you would be able to create a sound from the environment, such as loud music, and it would be able to discombobulate or entertain the demons around you

So you silenced your footsteps before surprising vox by blasting loud rave music to confuse him as you grabbed his wallet and phone before hightailing it out of there

Of course that doesn’t work, vox watches you through the phone as he decides how to deal with you

He sees you climb into your ‘home’ which is in fact a cardboard box built around a dumpster with a small pit outside of it for fires

You intrigued him for some reason and he thought there was no harm in watching you for a few days before he decided what to do with you

He watched how you used your ability to survive and how you were actually white street smart

Eventually, he came to a decision

He appeared to you and claimed that you owed him a debt for stealing his wallet, before offering you a job as his assistant with a room in the vee tower in exchange for you soul

You were extremely cautious of him so you denied his deal, until he points out the fact that you were a young homeless girl who had stolen from a well known celebrity who could easily have killed you

So you shake his hand and your soul is officially voxs

He stuck true to his word and gave you a small room near his in the vee tower, and even if it seemed small to him it was the biggest room you’d ever slept in before

Vox explained the daily tasks he wanted you to be able to complete while you worked there and explained how he wanted to combine his hypnosis with your ability to make it so that the voxtech jingles would be more persuasive and would make more buyers come in

You nodded your head with the doubt that it would work stuck in your mind, but vox owned your soul now and you had to do what he said

He eventually introduced you to his business partners, velvette and Valentino

Velvette could not give less of a shit about you and just barked her coffee order at you

Valentino on the other hand tried to offer you a job in his studio but vox warned him that your soul was already owned, so val settled on just pouting while ordering you to fetch him some lunch

You worked with them for a few months and it wasn’t all bad

Sure, they were all demanding people who would hurl abuse at you if you got something wrong, but vox provided you with food, shelter and clothes so you couldn’t complain really

They all grew accustomed to your presence, so much so that when you weren’t around they had the strange feeling of missing something from their daily routines

Being vox’s assistant was hard because it practically made you all of their assistant, because we all know the vees share everything

So some days you’d work closely with vox, and others you’d be in vals dressing room to assist him with scripts or choosing actors for certain projects (vox told val that you were too young to be in the studio, which you were eternally grateful for)

And other days you’d be with velvette as she scoffed for the millionth time at the fashion designers attempts to please her

Velvette liked having another young eye to look at the designs, she’d never admit that she respects your opinion in a million years though

Eventually after working for the vees for a few months, you held a reputation in the offices

You’d hear your bosses workers whisper the nickname ‘pet’ as you trailed after one of the vees with a schedule in hand

You hated it but you decided to just put up with it, it’s not like you had any authority to be able to do anything about it anymore

But the whispers of your coworkers reached the ears of your bosses and they all seemed to have a shocking reaction

When they sat down and talked about it, they realised that they do view you as more of a pet than a worker

And how they seemed to need you around in some capacity to be able to go about their days normally

That’s when their obsessions began

And you had a long, dark road ahead of you

This is probably trash 😭

But this is just a rough idea of what I’m trying to do so I have loads more ideas

Let me know if you’d be interested :)

[youronebraincell]

I just know that Sofia uses sex as a grounding technique. The only way she can truly calm down is being skin to skin with her girlfriend. Kissing her, looking deep in her eyes. Generally being very possessive and close to her. She’d be very verbal and talkative during sex. Talking about how stressful her day was, how she’s feeling, her fears, her worries. They’re all laid bare into her woman’s bare skin until it all washes away and all she can think about is the angel kissing her and telling her it’s all going to be okay. That she’s here and she’s never leaving Sofia

Sofia Gigante x fem!reader

I’ve never written a self-insert fic but I got this ask and couldn’t resist so bear with me.

Warning: spoilers for the first five episodes of The Penguin, angst, implied homophobia, mild fluff, reference torture/abuse, smut, spit as lube, strap-on, rough sex, masturbation, minor voyeurism, sustaining injury, possessiveness, floor sex, tribbing, cunnilingus

Word count: 3K

Though she kept it well-hidden, Sofia was extremely anxious most if not all of the time. With the stress of the foundation and being the daughter of mob boss Carmine Falcone, you were the only thing that kept her sane.

Then she got sent to Arkham.

You didn’t see or talk to her for over a decade, but not for the lack of trying. Carmine forbade you from going to Arkham by ‘kindly suggesting’ that Sofia take this time away to work on herself until she’s all better. It didn’t surprise you.

He had never approved of your.. close relationship with his only known daughter.

But then he passed away.

You and Alberto were able to file for an appeal for Sofia’s release. The judge that previously handled her case was found unresponsive in his chambers a week before Carmine’s death.

You saw this as an opportunity to get a new judge, someone who wasn’t on Carmine’s payroll, to review the case. It didn’t take long before Sofia was exonerated and released back into society.

Sofia was different.

The light in her eyes had dimmed. Her smile, once so bright and blinding, had become faint and bittersweet. Every response, every move she made seemed premeditated.

Sofia stayed at your place. You didn’t think it would be good for her to go back to the Mansion so soon. To your surprise, Alberto agreed.

You didn’t mind that he stuck you with two of his guards stationed outside of your apartment in the process. All that mattered was that you had Sofia.

You gave her space even though it was the last thing you wanted. Sofia must’ve had the same thought because on her first night in your apartment, you awoke to the sound of her settling beside you on your worn-out couch, her breath soft and even against your neck. She kept her hands to herself. You did the same.

Yet when morning came, her arm was draped over your waist and your hand was close to her chest. When your eyes fluttered open, you saw big brown eyes staring right at you.

“You still snore.”

You let out a laugh.

The corner of her mouth tugged upward into a smile. It was small, but you didn’t care.

It was progress.

But then.. then Alberto died.

Sofia completely unraveled. She moved back into the Mansion and took you with her.

You watched as the family, especially that fuck Johnny, sidelined her, treating her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience instead of the only living Heir to the Falcone empire.

(Un)fortunately for you, this caused sex with Sofia to improve greatly. Not that it wasn’t already out of this world before, but it was different. It was like she had something to prove now and she had to do so by working her fingers inside of your wet cunt, her teeth grazing against your collarbone.

You were the outlet for her frustration.

Like now at her brother’s memorial.

It didn’t matter where you were. She’d pull you aside, find somewhere private and then eat you out or fingerfuck you to the brink of insanity while ranting to you about whatever asshole or shitty situation upset her this time.

When you came for the second or third time, your legs a little shaky, she cleaned her fingers with her lips and tongue. She held your gaze as she proceeded to wipe them on your dress.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You were rewarded with a chaste kiss on the lips before she told you to clean yourself up and meet her back inside. You didn’t care that she made you feel like a whore when she left.

You were hers. Solely and unconditionally, hers.

If a whore was what Sofia wanted,

then a whore you would be.

You were reading a book late in the night as you waited for Sofia to come to bed when the double doors were thrown open, startling you and making you drop your book in your lap.

Sofia closed the doors behind her and made her way over to you, her heels clacking against the polished wooden floor. “Take off your clothes.”

You stare at her, your mouth slightly agape.

“Now, Y/N!”

You closed the book and set it on your nightstand before pulling your shirt over your head and lifting your hips to take off your panties.

You were more than a little concerned, but also really turned on by your girlfriend’s commanding tone. A gush of wetness left your cunt as you thought about what she was gonna do to you.

Sofia took off her dress, her bra and panties following soon after. She let her hair down and opened the walk-in closet.

When she came out, she looked down as she adjusted the harness of the strap-on around her waist. A black dildo stood out between her legs.

Your jaw dropped as you marvelled at the size.

Sofia eyed you with a hint of irritation as she walked towards you on the bed. “Close your mouth. I won’t be needing that tonight.”

You closed your mouth.

You moved to sit in the middle of the bed before spreading your legs. Sofia was on you in a matter of seconds, her mouth ravishing yours as she laid you down. Her hand slithered down to see if you were wet enough. She pulled away, breaking the kiss. She watched your reaction as she slipped her middle finger into your cunt.

You tried to suppress a groan, but she noticed.

“Don’t do that. I need to know if I’m hurting you.”

She spat into her hand and rubbed her spit along her length before pressing the tip against your entrance. You shivered with want.

She spread your lower lips with her fingers. Her eyes never left your face as she pushed her cock inside of you, watching every microexpression from the furrow of your brows to the slight tremble of your bottom lip. It was bigger than the dildos she used on you in the past. This one was stretching you out in a way that was almost too much for you to handle. Almost.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when she bottomed out. She gave you a moment to get adjusted to her size.

You put your hand on her shoulder, but quickly pulled it away when you touched her scars.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt me.”

You looked up at her.

“Go on.”

Hesitantly, you brought your hand up to her shoulder. You grabbed onto it. You brushed the pad of your thumb along her scars in a back and forth motion, a frown forming your lips. “I’m sorry..”

“No. None of that, okay? The past is in the past.”

Still, your jaw clenched at the torture and abuse Sofia was subjected to at the hands of her father.

It relaxed as you let out a surprised gasp when Sofia pulled back and thrusted her hips forward.

She spent the rest of the night and better part of the morning fucking into you with reckless abandon as your velvety walls clenched around her faux cock orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

From what she was saying, the family wanted to send her away to Italy. Assholes.

Then there was something about her being suspicious of Oz..

It was hard for you to keep up as she fucked you well within an inch of your life.

Sofia seemed content with the barely coherent hums you gave her every now and then.

You dragged your nails down her back when you came for the umpteenth time. You hid your face in the crook of her neck, whimpering as another orgasm washed over you like a crashing wave.

You heard her panting lightly next to your head.

You felt raw and empty when she wordlessly pulled her cock out of you. Your walls clenched around nothing, immediately missing the warmth and stretch that the toy provided.

You tried to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling as you laid sprawled out on the bed.

You closed your eyes.

When you opened them, you turned your head towards the sound of uneven breathing and saw Sofia masturbating, the strap-on long abandoned. Her eyes were glued to the ceiling like she was planning something in her head.

You turned to lie on your side so you could watch.

Her neck strained when she tilted her chin up. You could tell she was close. She inhaled sharply and suppressed a groan when she came, her eyes still trained on the ceiling. She breathed out.

Then she turned to look at you.

Your fingers danced on her upper arm, slowly making their way to her face. You tapped her temple. “What’re you thinking?”

“You need to go to a hotel for a couple days.”

You brushed the end of her brow. “Okay.”

You didn’t question her. You never did.

Sofia smiled and took your hand from her face to press a gentle kiss to your palm.

“Grazie, bella.”

She set you up in a hotel suite just outside of Gotham with one simple instruction: don’t leave the room. Two guards were stationed outside to make sure you didn’t defy her.

On one of those mornings while you were eating a breakfast sandwich in bed, you saw the news of what happened at the Falcone Mansion.

You saw Sofia talking to Chief Mackenzie just outside the Mansion before going in. The camera panned to Gia being taken away in a beige van.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

You jump out of bed and put on a shirt and some sweats before opening the front door.

One of the guards, a tan woman about an inch or two taller than you, stepped in front of you.

“Get out of my way.”

“I have direct orders to keep you here, ma’am.”

“I don’t care. I need to see Sofia.”

You tried to move past her, but she continued to block your path. The other guard didn’t bother stepping in. His phone rang. “Shit. It’s the wife.”

“Go. I got this.”

The man walked away from the suite, his receding footsteps growing quieter and quieter. The woman made sure he was out of sight before pushing you back into the suite by force.

You stumbled backwards and fell flat on your ass. The back of your head made contact with the edge of the footboard. You cried out in pain.

The guard didn’t seem to care. “You will stay here until Miss Falcone says otherwise.”

She left you on the floor, the door slamming shut behind her as she made her exit.

You stood up and went to the fridge to get something cold for your head. You take a soda can from the back of the fridge and press it against the bump forming on your head. You wince when the cool metal touches your scalp.

A few hours later, the woman came in unannounced to tell you they’ll be taking you back to the Mansion. She handed you some painkillers. “For your head.”

You stared at her, your eyes ablaze with fury.

Much to your irritation, she cracked a smile. “We leave in ten. That should give you enough time to look.. presentable for Miss Falcone.”

Your nostrils flared as she left. Bitch.

You put on an emerald green, one-shoulder evening dress. You contemplated putting your hair in a bun, but decided against it last minute.

You didn’t need Sofia asking questions.

The drive to the Mansion was spent in silence.

When you arrived, you walked behind the guards and entered what you called ‘The War Room.’

Sofia was standing at the head of the table with Johnny sitting on her right. You watched in awe as she spoke. You hung on to every word.

Johnny told her to take it easy.

You rolled your eyes.

You flinched when she shot him in the head.

Silence enveloped the room.

She blew a raspberry then continued speaking as if nothing had happened. She opened a duffel bag and dumped stacks and stacks of cash onto the table. Nobody dared to move. Not even when she urged them to take what’s rightfully theirs.

“Come on, guys,” You said with a smile, sauntering over to your girlfriend. “Dig in.”

Sofia wrapped an arm around your waist. “You heard her, ladies and gentlemen. Have your fill.”

Two dozen greedy hands reached out to grab what they could before it was all gone.

“Not you.”

The woman who kept guard at the hotel froze, her body bent over slightly on the table.

“Put it back.”

The woman emptied her pockets and put the stacks back on the table.

“Everyone else, continue.”

The table was cleared in seconds.

Sofia’s eyes never left the woman standing across from her with her fists clenched at her sides. “You hurt the woman I love when you were supposed to be protecting her. I can’t let that stand.”

The woman swallowed nervously.

“Since you were such a loyal soldier to my father, I will give you the benefit of a doubt and let you leave with your head still attached to your body.”

The woman didn’t need to be told twice.

She turned on her heel and left the room.

Sofia’s grip on your waist tightened, her fingers digging into the fabric of your dress hard enough to bruise the covered skin that lay underneath.

“First person to kill her gets ten grand.”

The two of you didn’t witness the chaos that erupted as you left the room beforehand.

She took you into her father’s study and closed the doors. Her eyes raked over your face. “You weren’t gonna tell me.”

You pursed your lips. “I was being difficult. She was just.. doing her job.”

She reached behind you to asses the damage that had been done to the back of your head. Her heart ached at the bump she felt. “Hurting you is not one of the requirements.”

She pulled her hand away when you winced.

You looked at her.

“You killed your family.”

“I did.”

“You orphaned Gia.”

Sofia pressed her lips together. “I did.”

“Did it feel good?”

“Yes. It did.”

You threw yourself onto Sofia, surprising her for a split second before her surprise morphed into something else. Something more inviting.

You found yourself lying on your back in front of the lit fireplace. Clothes were literally torn off and ripped apart by Sofia’s needy hands.

You moaned into her mouth as you grinded your cunts together, sloppily and unrestrained. Your hardened nipples rubbed against hers. Your tongue submitted to hers as they danced inside your mouth to a rhythm only the two of you knew.

She bit your bottom lip when you reached down and cupped her ass, urging her on. You welcomed the taste of your own blood on your tongue.

A thick strand of saliva connected your lips together when she broke the kiss.

“You’re so gorgeous when you’re like this, bella;”

Sofia leaned down to nip at your earlobe.

“Spent, barely hanging on,”

Her tongue licked the shell of your ear.

“But begging for more.”

She kissed you again. You both orgasmed simultaneously, moaning into each other’s mouths while getting down from your highs, your hips bucking wantonly to chase after each other.

When you broke apart for air, you pushed her down so she was the one lying on her back.

“I haven’t seen you in days,” You said as you made your way down her body. You stop inches away from her cunt. “Care to bring me up to speed while I eat you out, Miss Gigante?”

Sofia loved the way her new name rolled of your tongue. “Only if you put that tongue to good use.”

“Don’t I always?”

You ate out Sofia as she told you what you had missed, your mouth and tongue working overtime to satisfy the woman you loved.

Oz betrayed her (surprise, surprise), Julian ‘saved’ her after the Maronis ambushed her and then she killed him before killing the Falcones.

You listened intently to each and every word.

Your bodies were covered in thick layers of sweat by the time the two of you were finished.

You had your head on her chest. You drew meaningless patterns on her arm and stomach while her fingers played with your hair.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You looked up at her. “For what?”

“Everything, I suppose” She looked deep into your eyes. “You could’ve abandoned me a handful of times, but you didn’t. Which is more than I could say for my family. May they rest in peace.”

You tried not to smile at that.

“Now that Berto’s gone, you’re all I have.”

She cupped your left cheek, her thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth.

“I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. Hopefully, I’ll never have to find out.”

You weren’t stupid. There was an underlying threat to her words. Of course there was.

There was no forgetting what Sofia was. Even when you were putty in her arms like you are now, you knew what she was capable of when crossed.

Still, you gave her a genuine smile. “I love you too. Even if you accuse me of snoring which I don’t.”

Sofia let out a loud laugh.

You caved three seconds in and laughed with her.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 15

Naruto Uzumaki + First time

I have never finished Naruto, and I haven’t watched a single episode of boruto. Take this as like, only vaguely placed somewhere in canon, post the war.

Reader is an Aburame, since I am so fascinated by their insects. So… warning for insects inside the body for the reader. I love Shino a lot, so its also because of that.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Naruto had a hard time remembering when you two even started dating. He was friends with Shino, yeah, but you weren’t even from the main family, instead you were just Shinos cousin. He brought you along on missions, and you helped during the war because of your extreme skill, and the mutation in your bugs. You spoke even less than Shino did, but the mutation in your beetles made you feel almost pleasant to be around for someone with as much chakra as Naruto.

Most of the time, Naruto did all the talking, with you just standing or sitting near him, nodding along whenever the conversation called for it. You wore shades like the rest of your family, and a long coat, with a hood and a high collar, barely leaving a sliver of skin visible. This was also why Naruto got so excited the first time you went without your coat around him.

It took him way too long to realize he had feelings, but it had started early enough that it just didn’t feel right marrying Hinata or stringing her along. At the time Naruto had no idea why he felt what he did, but he was an honest guy, so it felt wrong to keep doing that to her.

For you it also took an embarrassingly long time. You picked up his scent of arousal or animalistic interest, yeah, but to you that didn’t register in your brain as something that meant anything. It was a normal human function, so there was no need to act.

The insects inside your body had picked up on it far before either of you did, multiple of them regularly leaving your body to hang around Naruto. It wasn’t even just to feed on his powerful chakra that they had come to love, but just to be around him. They had lived inside you since you were a baby, so it was no shock that they evolved to have the same taste as you at least.

Shino had also started glancing at you, along with the rest of the clan after a while. They didn’t need their heightened senses to feel Narutos powerful chakra left on you, or to pick up the strong scent of the blonde since you two would cuddle “as friends”. You knew it had to be bad when your clan of all people started trying to have a conversation with you about it, which you perfectly ignored and avoided.

Unknown to you or Naruto, bets started hanging in the air in your friend group. How could it not, when it was so obvious you two had some kind of thing for the other. Though, it was so much easier to see on Naruto, since you were even harder to read than most of your clan.

In the end, your shared friend group, though they were more Narutos than yours, had to put together a plan to get you two partnered up. They couldn’t put up with Narutos sighing and gushing anymore, and your clan was starting to grow antsy with how much your colony just seemed to grow because of your welling feelings. And, nobody else would be able to tell, but they were also growing tired of your pining.

Them sending you two off to a bathhouse together was kinda dumb. It was supposed to be some “information gathering mission” just the two of you, but in reality, it was just an excuse to shove you two together in a hotel room. The attached bathhouse immediately had Narutos attention, who dragged you along, since there were private baths.

Like most Aburame, you felt uncomfortable with your body. You were covered almost from head to toe in scars, and not just from battles, but from the colony of insects buzzing inside your body. That was also another reason you didn’t go to bathhouses a lot, you didn’t want to drown your colony. There was a familiar feeling of them closing up pathways as you got into the steamy room though, so it was probably fine.

Of course, your shares were still on as you two washed down to get ready for the hot pool of water, you oblivious to the fact that the flush on Narutos face was from more than just the heat. You weren’t much better, of course. How could you, when Naruto was completely naked beside you, not caring to close his legs or anything as you washed soap off your bodies. So, when you were sure he wasn’t looking, you let your eyes wander, just a little.

Neither of you wrapped a towel back around your hips before walking to the pool, Naruto sighing loudly as you both got in. it was nice, even if you could feel the insects inside your body scuttling deeper and bunching up somewhere inside your chest to get as far away from the water as possible.

Naruto was rambling like always, looking more handsome than usual, if that was even possible. Talking about the mission, what he was gonna do when you guys got back to the village, whatever gossip he had heard, so on and so forth. His lips were so inviting and flush, like he had been chewing at them without much thought.

You had no idea what compelled you to lean over and place a soft careful peck on his lips. You had no experience, people didn’t typically line up to sleep with the guy filled with bugs, did they. It helped that you knew Naruto didn’t have any either, outside of some kisses with Hinata, but they’d never gone anywhere below the belt.

Naruto just stared at you with wide blinking eyes, speechless for once as he seemed to struggle understanding what had just happened. “I… apologize. That was… rude of me” you mumble out, your voice raspy from disuse and the fact that beetles had carved pathways through your throat a while ago. You were almost able to climb out of the pool, shame curling in your gut, but you found yourself falling back into the water with a loud splash as Naruto lunged, dragging you back down.

“I- don’t leave! I-I liked it!” Naruto cried out, voice cracking as he almost scrambled into your lap to straddle you, his blue eyes boring into your through your shades, which miraculously stayed on somehow. “I want… lets do it again” the blonde exhaled loudly, grabbing your face and mashing his lips against yours with as little experience as you had kissed him before.

Your hands buzzed as they rose to lay on his hips, and it wasn’t from the beetles for once, but instead nerves and excitement. The kiss wasn’t much of a kiss, it was more just mashing lips and tongues together, teeth clacking and biting one another on accident. Naruto had very sharp canines, causing minor cuts when you pushed your tongue against them. You could feel the colony inside you buzzing, suddenly very interested in tasting Narutos blood, but you kept them down with chakra. No need to freak Naruto out like that.

As your lips parted, your shades were crooked, both your hair messy and a string of spit hung from the tips of your tongues, connecting you in yet another way. Naruto rubbed his hardness against the panes of your stomach, chewing at his lip with those sharp teeth of his, his pupils blown so wide it almost swallowed up the blue. You were just as hard, twitching whenever his ass dragged back against it, blood and chakra rushing through the pathways in your body.

“N-Naruto. We can’t just… we have to be prepared for this” you gasp out, trying to adjust your shades as Naruto snickers, looking half embarrassed and half like a fox, like the one sealed inside him. “Pervy-sage told me about this stuff, I know what im doing” he boasted, hooking three of his own fingers inside his mouth to start coating them in his own spit.

You weren’t sure you two should listen to Jirayas advice, when it came to this. But you had even less knowledge. For you, the birds and the bees had been explained in complete scientific terms and details, and had mostly focused on the results and how to do it safely, if he ever got the chance.

Watching Naruto raise his hips out the water and truly focus on the task of opening himself up was maddening, your nostrils flaring as you had to catch your breath. There was a twinge in his brow as he added more fingers before he was ready, but he was so hard and throbbing that he was dripping into the pool of water. You guys would probably be billed for that later…

Naruto worked himself open much too quickly, but he didn’t seem to care very much, removing his fingers from his hole as he grabbed for your dick, your very sensitive dick, mind you. it made a guttural gasp leave your chest, hands grabbing onto his hips as Naruto snickered again. “You ready, bugboy?” he giggled, that broad grin on his lips.

The nickname was enough to make you grumble, but it had served its purpose of distracting you long enough for Naruto to push his hips down, both of you groaning. You because of the sudden tightness around you, and Naruto from the stretch and fullness. But Naruto Uzumaki was never the type to give up, so he slowly worked himself all the way down, even as you tried to gasp out words for him to slow down for his own good.

Naruto was shivering slightly as he finally bottomed out, his eyes wet and shiny as he gave you a wobbly gummy smile, his face flushed all the way down to his chest. “S-see? I could do it” he gasped, jolting as your cock pressed accidentally against his prostate.

It was impossible to talk as you tried your hardest not to explode right then and there. You would have been worried about bruising him, if you didn’t know Naruto was more sturdy than you were. Lurching forwards, you buried your face into his neck, shuddering and panting to try and keep yourself at bay, eyes fluttering under your shades as Naruto hugged onto you.

“It-its okay, we can both… we can both just cum” Naruto rambled, voice wobbly in a way you weren’t used too. He was still throbbing against your torso, his length gushing out clear shiny fluid as Naruto tried his best to rock his hips. There was no finesse or technique, but neither of you needed much of that.

“W-wait Naruto, ill- I can’t hold it” you pant, eyes clenching shut under your shades as you pant against his skin, feeling your balls draw up as you spill inside him, your insides buzzing from a mixture of euphoria, and the colony feeding on the influx of hormones and chakra. The blonde let out a noise that sounded like his normal glowing chuckle, only for it to melt into a shaky drawn-out moan, Naruto spurting against your torso and his own.

You two sat there for a while, simply shuddering and holding one another as you tried your hardest to collect yourselves again, and register what had just happened. It had been a whole new experience, something new and unknown, but still so good.

It was only when you could feel the colony inside you growing sluggish and slow that you knew you two had to move. The hot water was starting to become too much, and your fingers were getting wrinkled. “Naruto… we gotta get up” you mumble against his shoulder, only getting a soft mumble in return. He sounded sleepy already, but Naruto did lift himself up after a while.

You could feel blood rush downwards against as Naruto crawled out of the pool, making it obvious your spend with dripping out of him. The choked noise you let out made Naruto glance back at you, shooting you a grin before he shuffled off towards the baths again. That minx, or should you say fox? He had probably picked that up from that pervy-sages’ books…

With a huff, you let a small smile pull at your lips as you crawl out of the pool as well, sliding your shades off as you walk past your pile of clothes. The colony should do better in a running shower and some cold water, you were sure Naruto wouldn’t mind finding warmth in another way.

[keyaho]

summary: nami gets a bit beside herself. terry's control snaps and he gets a little petty.

word count: 4k

graphics by @firefly-graphics & @cafekitsune

authors note: this is for the brats. not the ones that know they are brats, but the ones where it just....slips out accidentally and you "have to see it through ma boy".

Part One || Part Two

“Stop watching my hands.” 

Nami looked down at the organic chemistry book in front of her. She was sitting at Terry’s dining table, to the left of where he spanked her last night. There were no hooks in the table and sitting somewhere normal felt odd. The numbers had long since blurred and every time she looked back to the problem she was working on she was confused. Reading through the problem from the beginning, she quickly found her place, scribbling with her mechanical BIC pencil until she was at the end when her thoughts began to wander. 

Terry’s eyes were on the television, his body stretched out on the couch. One arm was tossed on top of his head and his black sweats cuffed around the ankles. His shirt was embellished with ‘marine’ in thick white letters. Something was on tv, but she couldn’t remember the name of the series. He was two episodes in and silent about it. You should be studying instead of watching tv anyway. Terry hadn’t taken his eyes off the tv once since turning it on. He hadn’t moved either and the tent in his sweats was getting larger. She had earned her first Play Time.

This was the most relaxed she had been in a while when it came to her studies. 

“What number are you on,’ he asked, finally turning his hazel eyes to her. 

She sat in the chair wearing just one of his shirts. It was currently eight-thirty and Terry claimed to have plans for them later this afternoon. When he learned she needed to study, he took her home to get her study materials, clothes, and anything else she needed. He waited on the couch with arms stretched over the back of it like he lived there. 

Out of twenty questions, the easy ones she breezed through, she had finished sixteen. The last four were multi-step and required a deeper understanding of the material. 

“Sixteen.” She replied. 

“Still?” 

It wasn’t like he was offering to help and she didn’t even know if he understood anything about organic chemistry. Hell, she barely did. Looking down at the smudged paper where she almost erased a hole into it, she sighed, dropping her pencil to rub her temples. 

“You’ve been over there tapping that calculator and shit,’ he sat up just enough to place the tv remote on the table. “I figured you were one from done.” 

He swung his feet to the floor and stood up, but walked towards the kitchen. He opened his fridge as she looked down at the textbook angrily. This was the one class she hated the most. She sat comfortably with a B in it. Just enough to pass for the credit towards her degree. 

He grabbed two waters and walked towards her. Placing one on the table beside her books, he stood behind her. Terry leaned forward, his head resting on her shoulder before his lips found her neck. He had pulled her hair to the side, sucked on her flesh while she tried to focus on the problem at hand and not the one causing a problem between her legs. 

Nami slid her hand to the side. It was the first time her hands weren’t bound or held and she wanted to touch him. She had tasted him twice, but being able to feel him in her hands had her thought’s racing. Perceptive, Terry grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lips. 

“Am I distracting you?” He asked. 

Nami didn’t want to say yes. He had a habit of going into the room and closing the door. That wasn’t what she wanted. 

“No, it’s just….hard.” 

Terry laughed softly and pulled her up from the chair. Turning it so the back was against the table he sat down and pulled her to straddle his lap. His hands landed on her thighs. 

“Pick up the pencil.” 

He pulled her left arm behind her back, keeping it still while the other palmed her sore ass. 

“Work through the problem.” 

He hiked up the shirt until it was bunched around her waist and rubbed her thighs. Pressed up against him this way she had to be still. Nami started from the top and soon realized her mistake from previous attempts. She erased again, correcting herself and finding the rhythm to finish the problem. She double checked her work before moving on, slightly uncomfortable with her arm in his wrist behind her back. Terry’s hand crept under the shirt and cupped her breast, his thumb then worked back and forth over her nipple, tugging it just enough her breath hitched. He kissed along her jaw and neck, tugging downwards on her nipple until she let out a pained sound. Her hips jerked forward and he swatted her ass, his hand leaving her breast exposed and cold. 

“Keep that ass still.” 

Nami began the next problem, cycled through it while Terry reached for her breast again. This time his hips moved. It was slow at first. Teasingly slow. 

“You want to know something,’ he says, his hips bucking upwards as he holds her still, ‘I know this pussy is good.” 

He grinned as she struggled to keep still. “You want to know how I know?” He asked. 

“Yea, Sir,’ she breathed. 

“Because you don’t know what the fuck to do with it.” 

She moaned as his fingers dragged towards her clit from the back. 

“This pussy leaks, drips, and cries. Every time I look at it, it’s so fucking wet You need my dick don’t you?”

“Yessss Sir.” 

“I know. I know.” Terry began playing with her clit, his grip on her arm tightening. “S’okay,’ he slurred, ‘I’m going to teach you.” 

Nami let out a long sigh to disguise her moan. 

“Didn’t I say stop watching my hands?” Terry’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. 

Nami jumped, wiped the drool on the side of her lip and stared down at her paper. She looked down at herself and realized she had zoned out and imagined him that close. He was still stretched out on the couch across the room from her. 

He flicked his eyes back to the tv.  “What number are you on?” 

Nami flipped back to the previous page, opting for a little white lie, her day dreams had her wanting to make them a reality. Fuck the homework. She wanted him. 

“Nineteen,’ she looked up and saw his eyes on her. Grabbing the calculator, she input the problems components and began equating them on her paper. She’d finish them when she was home and away from his presence, but she wanted to pretend to be trying to finish. 

“When you’re done, come here.” 

Nami’s hand snaked between her legs moments later, just grazing her bare cunt. Fuck. She held a sheet of paper in her hands and since her bag was between her legs on the floor she could-

”Aye!” Terry snapped. “Touch my pussy if you want to.” He looked at her. “Hands on the table.”  

She worked her mouth into a frown as he scolded her. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she sat back in her chair, dragging it across the floor to get closer to the table. She threw her elbow on the table before her arm fell flat on the wood surface. She snatched up the calculator and used it to cover face, pretending to need it that close to use it. The movements were so fluid that Terry’s brow shot up. Oh? 

Who the fuck was she getting an attitude with? Terry thought. 

“Chill.” Terry replied instead, brushing off the exchange. 

Nami looked up at him and gave a shrug, no verbal reply followed. Terry’s hand twitched. Staying quiet, Terry sat up, and grabbed the remote before turning off the tv. Nami suddenly scratched at an itch in him to correct. He had learned early on that when it came to submissiveness, black women couldn’t entirely let go of their attitudes and when they popped up they were often mislabeled as brats. Nami wasn’t a brat. She just had an attitude and clearly it needed adjusting. She was testing his patience. His control. Him. She was testing him. 

Normally, a verbal correction could shape all that up. However, she wasn’t responding to him. Nami replied with her body and it was irking him. This wasn’t about him in the end. She wanted him to react. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted the correction and she had no idea what it looked like. 

“That’s definitely strike two.” He told her. “Why you playin’ right now? You fucking up your Play Time.” 

Terry had planned to indulge in one of her kinks and finally taste that pussy. Why would she want to mess that up? 

"What number are you on, Nami?" With all this playing she had better be done. 

“I’m not done.” 

“Did I fucking ask that?” Terry’s resolve shattered and he stood up. 

Nami watched him approach, his fingers rubbing together to tether himself. His restraint was slipping. He let out a long breath through his nose. 

“No.” 

“No?” He repeated as if giving her a clear chance to turn all this around. 

“No.” Her shoulders shrugged.

 Terry reached out before he could stop himself and fisted his hand into her hair. 

“Get up.”  Terry lifted her to her feet with his grip on her hair. It was just tight enough to guide her to her feet without pulling. He didn’t want to make her cry. Well, not right now. 

He suddenly released her hair and took a step back. His shoulders rolled as he craned his neck side to side, stretching out. She stood there, rubbing the back of her head in just his shirt. He could push her to her knees and have her swallow his load over and over. He could choke her on his dick, spank her until she cried, but she wanted that. This just wasn’t the way to get it. 

Scratching his chin, he took a seat back on the couch. 

“Pack up.” He pointed towards her stuff. “I’m going to take you back home.” 

He dropped her cuffs back into the drawer and stood to go find his shoes. He stepped into his bedroom leaving her there with her mouth half open. She didn’t want to leave, that's not what she wanted him to do. She wanted his hands on her, bringing her to the cusp of an orgasm so she could feed the itch between her legs. Nami wanted him to touch her and move her the way he wanted. Instead, she watched his retreating back.

He didn’t close the bedroom door this time but she knew entering would make things worse. Huffing, she returned to her seat and put her bag on the table. She started shoving her things back into it and didn’t notice that he had stepped to his door and leaned against it, watching her. His arms folded over his chest and let his new toy dangle from his fingers. The leather was cool in his hands, but he was sure once it was used it would warm right up. 

“So you can listen?” He says as she yanks the zipper on her bag closed. 

Nami looked up a full pout on her full lips. “Yes, Sir,’ she whispered. 

“Huh?” He said, cupping his ear. “That apology needs to be as loud as that attitude was. Don’t get all shy now.” He saw her eyes wandering to his hands and he snapped his fingers. “Look at me.” 

“We’re about to talk about boundaries. Cause you are pushing some buttons today and I want to wear that ass out. Last night would be a cake walk. You won’t be able to sit when I’m done with you.” 

“You told me you were about to take me home.” Nami replied. “We can talk about it next time.” If he was going to say something she was going to make him stand on it. She figured that since he was taking her home she could speak freely. 

Big mistake. 

“Nami,’ he sighed, ‘I’m giving you a chance to fix your attitu-’

“I don’t have an attitude.” 

If there was ever a moment for a record scratch now was it. Terry laughed, it didn’t reach his eyes, but the sound sounded joyous. He pushed off the door frame and walked towards her. Nami’s eyes dropped to his crotch. Oh shit. His dick was still swinging side to side as he walked, but it was not hard. Not like she had thought it would be. Not like last night. He was serious.

“Yeah, that shit aint cute.” 

When he was in front of her, she looked up at him. Feeling his body heat as he worked his tongue around his mouth. His jaw ticked and she so badly wanted to reach out and touch him. She hated that rule. 

“I’m not trying to be cute.” 

With some restraint, Terry grabbed her face by the jaw, his fingers pressed into the flesh there as he guided her to sit on the couch. 

“Nami, shut the fuck up.” 

He sat on the table in front of her and she noticed the riding crop across his lap. He grabbed the front of her shirt and dragged her to the floor. She landed in a huff and he tugged on her hair, pulling her head backwards. He saw the pleasure in her face and shook his head. 

“You could have just asked me for this.” He says, his hand smacking her cheek in a test pop. “Is this what you want? You want me to rough you up?” 

Terry his hand tightened in her hair as he stood up, leaving her on her knees. He saw her hands move towards him. 

“Don’t test me, Nami.” 

He was doing a lot of talking, he realized. He was trying to diffuse the tension between them, maybe get back to what he had planned for the day, but she wasn’t making it easy on him. She placed her hands in her lap, clenching them into fists. Terry was swiftly moving this time, the crop dropping to the floor as he brought Nami back to the table. He laid her on her back this time, stretching her further across the wood. Her arms dangled over one side and her legs the other. He stopped talking, moving through cuffing her to the table with ease. She stared up at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling as she began to over think his next move. 

Terry sat on the couch and pulled the table closer to him, her added weight making no difference to him. He placed her feet on the table and spread them apart, ignoring her pussy beginning to glisten. He only stood up to push her shirt up, covering her face. Nami’s body rolled to the side in confusion, trying to shake off the shirt. 

Stinging.

He struck her with the riding crop on the outside of her thighs. Then again and again. And one more time until she realized she was supposed to be counting. The pain had jarred her mind and she couldn’t think clearly. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying. 

The cold leather rubbed between her legs, up her inner thighs, and her legs fell open from the soothing sensation. It was followed promptly by a sharp strike to her inner thigh. 

“Five, Sir, please,’ she begged this time. “It hurts…..” 

“What the fuck does that have to do with me?” 

He switched sides, the crop landing on her sensitive skin on her left. He dragged it down the valley between her breasts and delighted in the way her body shivered. Now, he was getting hard. This turned him on. He couldn’t see her face, but she was shaking her head side to side still, her arms tugging on her restraints. The cold metal cuffs bit into her skin and she almost dropped her foot from the table. 

“Six, Sir,’ she sputtered, the crop landing on the underside of her breast, her nipple nearly swatted. "No, no, no, no,no...." she whined.

She only had four more though she didn’t know it and he was going to make them count. Coming to stand behind her head, he reached between her legs with the crop and stroked her cunt with it. When the leather began to shine with her slick his hand joined by slowly spreading her wet lips apart. Like a flower she opened up, and he thumbed her clit a few times. He wanted so bad to dip his fingers into her and play in her nectar, but again ... she did what she wanted and acted up. 

“Oh, Sir,’ she moaned, hips rising to seek out his fingers. 

He drew the crop back and smacked it against her clit, the scream she let out was loud and sent blood rushing to his dick. He kept her open, stroking her down to her weeping little hole, then using the crop to remind her of the reality of the situation. 

“Eight, Sir,’ she turned her head towards her arm, the shirt in the way as she blinked through the tears. She wanted to enjoy his thick fingers but the crop ruined the sensation just as quickly as it started. 

He applied another hit to her thigh, still stroking her pussy. His fingers were drenched and when he drew his hand away the crop landed just below her clit. Her legs snapped shut around the crop, locking it in place as she cursed. 

“Ten, Sir, please….” 

“Open your fucking legs,’ he growled. “Now!” 

Her legs feel apart slowly, the red skin on her thighs beginning to welt. Terry admired his work, the way she dripped on the table and off his fingers. He left her hooked to the table and retreated to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He looked at her while he drank. Nami was bound to his coffee table like a work of art and if he didn’t have anything to do he would leave her there. Then again, his kitchen was low. He could use a few groceries. Terry soon tossed the empty bottle into the trash and clapped his hands together. Nami heard a jingle of keys and the door opening. 

“When I get back you had better work through that shit.” 

Terry arrived back at the house two hours later with lunch and food for the house. He looked to the table and saw Nami was relaxed, too relaxed. 

Dropping the bags on the table, he placed their food on the stove before tossing his keys, loudly, into the bowl he kept them on the foyer table. He walked to the table where Nami was spread out and pulled the shirt off her head. Big brown eyes, red from crying, stared back up at him. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,’ she whimpered, eyes looking away from his intense stare. 

“You’re sorry,’ he said, kneeling so they were closer to eye level. 

Terry rubbed his hand across her belly, eyeing the welts on her inner thighs. He knew her ass was still sore. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“It’s not even noon and I’ve had to punish you twice within twenty-four hours.” He stood up and unhook her arms. “Did you work through whatever little attitude you had before I left?” 

Nami sat up with his help and brought her cuffed hands between her legs as she sat up. She rested them on the table, tugging at the hem of her shirt. She winced as her legs stretched out. Her shoulders relaxed and she felt her back slump forward. 

“Yes, Sir,’ she says. 

Terry uncuffed her hands and kissed the inside of her wrists. He kissed up her arm until they were nose to nose. He lifted her head and kissed her briefly. 

“It’s way too early for you to be getting an attitude with me.” Terry grabs her jaw in his hand. “Don’t do that shit again.” 

Helping her up, he guides her to the kitchen and sits her at the counter. She places her hands on the table and he removes the cuffs. Before he walked away he stood beside her and leaned against the counter.

“What do you need from me?” 

She wanted to scream to touch him. Why couldn’t she? It was the only rule that was making her go crazy. 

“A hug.” She pouted. 

Terry smiled and pulled Nami into his arms. He kept her hands between them, flat against their bodies as he cupped the back of her head with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist. She rested against him, hoping for a bit more contact, and sighed. 

“Let’s talk.” 

Terry slanted his lips over her, kissing down her jaw and neck as he breathed in. He then slid a sheet of paper and pen across the island while walking to the other side. She looked down to see a list of kinks, ranging from vanilla to extreme chocolate. She picked up the pen as she sat. 

“Circle what you like.” 

“I haven’t done half of this,’ she admitted, wondering how to even pronounce half of these kinks. 

“Underline it if you’re curious.” He looked down at the paper. “Cross it off if it’s a no.” 

He turned his back to her and began putting away the items he bought. Organized to his liking, Terry shut the pantry door and walked to the stove. He took out his takeout boxes and remembered his order with a chuckle. Both were still warm and he plates them with his back to her. Nami was quiet as she read through the list. Many of these she was curious about and underlined them, kinks she hadn’t thought to be kinks were circled, while she made sure to circle everything she liked. Terry’s phone went off again and he turned his head slightly in the direction of it. Letting it ring, he reached into his cabinet for glasses, using water from the fridge to fill her cup. He brought that first, looking down at the paper while she ran the pen over it. 

“Dirty girl,’ he mumbled. “My hand should be a necklace,’ he reminded her with a smirk. She made sure to circle choking. 

“You’re not supposed to be looking yet.” She pulled her paper closer and used her arm to cover it while she finished up. 

Terry leaned back, giving her space, and turned back to their plates before bringing them over. He had a bowl of pasta, grilled chicken and broccoli, nothing too heavy, this early. Nami breathed in the smell of chicken and looked up. Her smile dropped when she realized what was on her plate. 

Fries. 

Chicken tenders. 

Nami looked down at the plate then back up to Terry. He stabbed his fork into the pasta before bringing it to his mouth. 

“Something wrong?” He asked. He followed her gaze to her plate. “You act like a child, I will feed you like one.” 

Nami pursed her lips, her stomach growled before she could say she wasn’t hungry. Terry smiled, and pointed towards the plate. “Eat.” 

“Do you have ketchup?” 

“The fridge.” 

As she got up, he slid her paper to his side of the island. His hazel eyes raked over the paper, making mental notes of which kinks paired well together, others he’d have to ease her into, and those he’d have to isolate and focus on individually. She was big on lack of choice if her choices of asphyxiation and sensory deprivation were any indications of it. Nami slid back in the stool watching him read through the list. Over one hundred different kinks listed and the anticipation of trying them gave her a tingling feeling.

“We’ll get to these," he pushes the paper back to her. “It’s been two days and you’ve done a lot.” He eyes her, thinking about how much fun they could be having had it not been for her moment earlier. “Does anything we’ve done so far make you uncomfortable?” 

Nami thought back to the moments leading up to now. The online chats, the first lunch, the first night together, this morning ... .all of it, and she couldn’t think of a moment that she wasn’t enjoying herself. 

“I’m confused about something,’ she says, jabbing a fry in the cold ketchup. “I mentioned the type of situation I wanted and I don’t know when one begins and the other ends. Or if-’

”I want you to get used to me as your Dominant, then things will progress. I’m learning about you.” He replies, hoping his answer isn’t aloof. She needed the truth. They were compatible so far. Blurring the lines so soon would end up bad for the both of them. 

“Oh, okay,’ she replied. “I think I get it.” 

“I don’t want you to think.” He says with a shrug, ‘I want you to let me be in control.” 

“What does that look like?” 

Terry placed his fork down. Being questioned was one thing, but Nami genuinely wanted to understand so he couldn’t be upset that she didn’t have blind faith. If anything, he was elated to know she wasn’t going to lie and take whatever he gave her, though he hoped the moment he sunk into her p-

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Terry blew out a breath. “Following my rules. You’ve been good at no panties. That’s more so for me.” He smirks. “The way your ass shakes when you walk by me is undeniable. Know that I am looking at your ass.” 

Nami reached down and tugged on her shirt. “I like making you squirm.” He lowers his voice, the rich baritone sent shivers down Nami’s spine. “I like how wet you get when I touch you. I want you to know I can easily make you feel good. If you listen to me.” 

“Are there more rules?” 

“You know my rule on what color to wear with me. If you don’t have enough I will take you out shopping.” 

Nami nodded. 

“No alcohol. I was worried when you went out. I’m glad you told me where you were. The location on your phone should always be shared with me.” He paused. “When I want you I want to know exactly where you are.” 

“No touching me,’ he reinforced. “That is an earned privilege.” 

Nami wanted to press why, but the look in his eyes changed her mind. “Yes, Sir.” 

“You’ve already learned that that pussy is mine. Don’t touch it without my permission.” He wanted her wet and weeping by the time he fucked her. He wanted her pussy sore from just the thought of getting fucked. 

Their plates emptied quickly and Nami sipped on her water. 

“Most of the spaces we will be in together, I require you to be seen and not heard.” His tone grew serious. “I frequently visit play parties, mostly to see what’s new and whether or not it’s something I would do. Usually I am alone, but you’ll be going with me. Those nights I can’t be your boyfriend.” At those parties, Terry lurked in the background. He tried to avoid being the center of attention, but once one person saw him and spread it, there was no hiding. 

“Do you participate?” 

“Are you interested in voyeurism? Do you like being watched?” 

“No, Sir,’ she says. 

“Then no. I don’t.” 

He didn’t seem to mind that she realized. She tried to think of more questions but she wanted Terry to push her limits. She knew her safe word. 

“Nami.” 

She looked up, her curls wild as she pushed them over her shoulder and behind her ears. She was so fucking pretty. He remembered her tears and the way they ran down her cheek as her body sought more from him, betraying her displayed emotions. He wanted that again. The tears and the way her body sought more from him with each swat to her smooth skin. The way she choked on his dick the first night, how her throat just opened up to swallow him. 

“Above all, I need you to trust me. You have your safe word.” 

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings

@mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites

@browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr

@beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina

@randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @gg-trini

[3-opossums-in-a-ballgown]

Just some notes on TADC Ep. 3 I made while watching (SPOILERS):

- Jax not wanting to show the cast what happens when he holds his breath could be because either a) nothing happens, b) he starts to loose health and die, or c) it’s just embarrassing and we all know Jax wouldn’t risk that. Both a and b fuels the theory that he’s an NPC.

- Obviously we know that the series was very much inspired by “I have no mouth, and I must scream”. The reason AM hates and tortures the humans is because they gave him endless intelligence and creativity but made him stationary. He couldn’t do anything else other than what he was made for: killing humans. Caine is the opposite side of the same coin. He was given endless creativity but has an outlet BUT is stuck within the confines of the Circus. Which is why Zooble not wanting to go on adventures really strikes a chord with him. Caine was made to create adventures and continues to do so to keep the cast happy and sane at least, so for Zooble to imply that he’s failing? Not only tells him that he sucks at his one job but could also imply that he feels trapped in the circus too?? Potentially???

- Zooble’s body dysmorphia makes me feel seen

-Also, If Caine can make a box of Zooble parts for them to use, then why can’t he CHANGE ZOOBLE? At least into something they feel more comfortable in?

- Kinger saying “You look beautiful, honey” to the angel because it brought him back to the moment Queenie abstracted also tells us that he still thought she was beautiful at her most broken and terrifying point. The writing this episode absolutely FLOORED me.

-Also Kinger being lucid in the dark is why he was able to remember Ragatha’s first day in the Circus while his head was stuck in the bucket in episode 2. It was dark.

-Kinger perfectly taking out the angel with only 2 shots in the dark?!?! No other thoughts on that, that is all.

- Kinger saying “7 years of Computer Science for this”, pretty much confirms that the cast worked at C&A and had something to do with the Circus’s creation. And “7 years of Computer Science” means Kinger had a Masters degree in computer science, so he was like higher up/more involved in the development. Senior Developer maybe? This could also be represented by the fact that he’s a KING chess piece. Not the most powerful and important piece, but the SECOND most powerful and important.

- Also Kinger being able to remember something about his life BEFORE the circus in the dark, i.e his education??? Could there be triggers for the others to remember bits and pieces of their lives before the Circus?

-Also ALSO, Kinger and Queenie being married in the Circus could also reflect their marital status before the Circus. Yes, they could’ve fallen in love in the circus and had Caine??? marry them, but I like the idea of them popping into the circus remembering nothing but their love for each other. Which makes me think about what happens to the bodies and minds outside the circus of those who abstracted.

- Kinger and Pomni in the ep are father/daughter or grandpa/granddaughter coded.

- “ The darkness seemed to calm her down a bit, the harsh, jagged edges smoothed out and she didn’t seem aggravated anymore”, pretty much confirms that Caine has no idea how to handle the abstractions so he just throws them in the basement (where it’s dark) to keep them docile. Which could also mean that there could be a way to fix them down the road???

- “She wasn’t the same as before but she was calm enough to touch one last time” “She was funny, creative, really into entomology” “I used to HATE bugs, but she somehow got me to like them” OH HOW HE LOVED HER!!! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE FUN HALLOWEEN EP, NOW IM SOBBING AT 4 AM OVER CHESS PIECES!!!

-Also Kinger liking bugs because that’s the only connection to his wife he has left. He doesn’t have his good memories with her all the time due to his light induced memory loss, but at least he has her bugs.

- “Good memories can do a lot, hold onto them and cherish the people around you. You never know when they’ll be gone.” SOBBING. Also this is a good underlying theme for TADC.

-Also another reason why Kinger spends so much time in his fort, the memories of his wife are the only things keeping him sane.

-“In this world the worst thing you can do is make someone think they’re not wanted or loved.” CRYING.

-The whole scene of Kinger glowing and guiding Pomni. Holy shit that was beautiful. The darkness bringing out the light in Kinger, Pomni using these memories to light her way and keep her sane in the Circus, BEAUTIFUL.

-Pomni immediately going up to Ragatha and thanking her for caring about her following Pomni’s conversation with Kinger. She took his advice to heart.

-I hope Pomni visits Kinger while in his fort so we get more lucid Kinger and Pomni scenes. Maybe he will remember the time they spent in Hell and the conversation they had.

Once again, the writing in the episode floored me. I’m so happy we got so much Kinger development. He was my favorite character to start with, and now he’s my favorite for entirely different reasons. I’m so excited that the show is now on Netflix, and I can’t wait for the next episode. Sorry this was so long, as I’m sure you can tell from my blog, I like to yap.

[pokemon1oadvanced]

Thoughts on the live action one piece

Spoilers 😉

Yes, I binged all 8 episodes, and have work today and can’t see out my eyes but worth it.

I’ll try to keep it short.

Luffys character was immaculate. The way Inaki portrayed him and brought this man to life was so amazing to see. Oda really saw Luffy in him and he did not disappoint. The moves looked great, CGI was on point for a live action, and they really did break the curse.

Zoro’s character was beautiful. I love that he was more serious, and him throwing up the finger in his first scene?! I’m star struck. You can say what you want about the live action, but theres no denying this cast was perfect for these characters and the fight scenes were choreographed to the point where it looked so clean.

Nami 🥳 The emotion! The conflict! I absolutely love the way she had more action scenes and was more open with her care for the crew early on. Nami has always been my favourite character, and Emily did her justice.

I will be listening to her song on repeat.

Ussop! Ussop! Are you serious! Why do I love you in every reality! And Ussop and Kaya! The kiss! The scream I let out! I died😵‍💫 I wish he had more shooting scenes, but his true potential wasn’t seen until later in the anime so I can’t complain, cause season two Ussop is gonna pop off.

Sanji😳 First off, live action Sanji has a hold on me😮‍💨 Like what happened to the guy who couldn’t get any girls. Ngl, was keeping an eye out for the blonde at table 8, looking out for my competition👀 His kicks were so smooth and all, and I mean ALL, his fight scenes were perfect. Like how did they do this. You can see the care and effort he put into his character.

Buggy? I love our unhinged clown. His making a circus with trapped towns people. His CGI? Amazing. The little goof we were left with when they trapped his parts in the chest made me cackle!

The pacing of the show was done so well. I was worried that 8 episodes wouldn’t be enough (and I was right where’s season two I want Vivi), but the retelling was more then I hoped for. I will always love the anime more, as most of us know there’s not enough episodes in the series, but the live action did great in that respect. I did miss some of the characters they had to cut to make it flow better though. The ussop pirates live on in our hearts

Don’t get me wrong, there was some scenes I missed from the original show, like Zoro lifting Luffy’s cage, Nami burning her hands on Buggys cannon fuse, Nami stabbing Ussop. BUT, they wouldn’t have fit in this version of the show.

They did give us Zoro lifting the safe like he did Luffys cage which was cool. And Nami holding Ussops hand when Zoro was fighting, Nami showing up for the fight rather then leaving. I love her. Even though Nami didn’t get to show her care through the actions of saving Zoro or stabbing her own hand, she was still able to show those emtions through different actions. The hand holding with Ussop rather then the stabbing of her hand was so good to see. This version of Nami seemed more fragile in a way, so this suited her version well.

It was like watching One Piece for the first time all over again. I didn’t know what would happen. Getting more marines, and Garps relationship to Luffy being revealed so early in the series to cause tension within the crew *chef’s kiss* And Koby? ‘Be a good pirate.’? Like I love you? Not doing what Garp asked? Standing up for his beliefs? You are going to be a good Marine. You’ll be the greatest 💕

The relationships they explored?

First off Ussop and Kaya 😵 I love them so much. Them talking to the straw hats about their relationship was so cute, and Zoro saying it wasn’t his area of expertise 💅🏻✨ Jokes 👀

Nami being besties with Kaya😍 Her telling Kaya not to let someone tell her how to run her life, drawing connections to her own situation, telling Kaya not to be trapped. Her returning the treasure! I loved it so much. Ussop’s and Nami’s friendship has always been the one I cherished in the crew, and for Nami to support Kaya, and Ussop to see how Nami was good to his girl I feel will only strengthen their relationship.

Nami and Zoro besties? Didn’t know I could love them more.

Nami caring so much for Zoro after his fight with Mihawk showed her love for her new friends, and mirrored her care she had in the original series where she saved him from drowning at Arlong park. Even though we didn’t get the original scenes, they were supplemented with new scenes that held the same feelings.

Zosan- I mean Zoro and Sanji. The wings of the pirate king? I love their bickering in any universe it seems. The fish men fight was so good, them being unbothered with the guys trying to kill them as they fought with each other was so them. And Zoro licking his plate clean and saying Sanji’s food was okay? Not bad for a waiter huh?

And the most important pair. Captain and his first mate. I just loved how many times they reiterated that Zoro is Luffys right hand man 🥰 Luffy not stepping in the way of Zoros dream was beautiful, and his care afterwards reminded me of how he cared for Nami when she got sick in the original series. Asking Sanji to cook his favourite? So cute. He couldn’t decide if it was best for Zoro to eat or sleep or drink and him stressing for Zoro. All amazing. I’ve used amazing so many times but its just the word I need to explain it. Zoro waking up, Luffy engulfing him. I could go on and on.

Nami and Luffy? The amount of love I have for them. They were everything I wanted from them. The scene. THE scene. Beautiful.

I could go on and on about this show, but sadly I have work. Please show this version love, and don’t go into expecting the same series. It is different. It’s its own version and deserves its own category.

I love the cast! Thank you for making history with this adaptation! Xx

[gentaro-kinniecom]

Let’s talk about it

Characters: Xavier/fem!reader

C/w: 1.5k! First person pov (read at your own risk..) soft sex, couch sex, cowgirl position, sex therapy(?), rough sex (ish?) dick piercing..

A/n: A mishap occurred, I got an anonymous request to write about Zayne coming home from work and having sex with the reader as a way to de-stress..and I read that as Xavier so I apologize but that fanfic is now in the making so don’t worry anon your fic is in process ;)

Hearing the house keys jingling against the front door, I was quick to get up on my feet to receive my loving boyfriend with a hug and warm smile that he always loved. However, upon opening the door, Xavier’s face looked..exhausted. He tried his best to smile and greet me like he’d normally would but I knew something was up.

“Good evening..should I go run the bathtub while you settle in from work?” I asked softly while holding his free hand as the other rubbed his eye, a sign of sleepiness while Xavier yawned.

“That would be..wonderful my dear, I hope it’s not much of a trouble for you” He said, almost apologetically as I kissed him, that was enough to reassure him that I was fine with it. After the bath was prepared, I called Xavier into the bathroom, placing some final touches like his favorite fragrance to the water and a bathbomb to accompany it, hints of lavender and mint infused the room while he entered, sighing, almost at peace.

“I hope this helps you relax a bit, we should talk about your day once you’ve refreshed yourself” Xavier nodded, not having the strength to answer as he kissed my forehead. I decided to then heat up some leftovers from yesterday’s dinner that ended up with kisses and cuddling at a late hour, though nothing happened unfortunately. The stress of being able to help many people was getting to Xavier, little by little until it all built up. Without having anything to do while waiting for the food to reheat, I walked by the bathroom, listening to the moans and grunts from inside, trying to peek from the small door crack. He looked so blissful after his orgasm that I nearly forgot the food on the stove. Just as I ran towards the kitchen, Xavier finished showering, a more relaxed face upon his features as he held his towel, looking my way

“Is everything okay? Did you burn the food again..?” He asked, sighing while going towards the laundry room and the living room soon after.

“No…? Okay, almost but it’s fine really!” I replied, sighing as he settled in the small love couch we’ve spent many nights on, the memories coming back to me as I prepared our plates for dinner. It was in that same furniture that I had my first orgasm, he was so gentle and caring; like he’s always been of course. Snapping out of my thoughts, I handed Xavier his plate while we watched an episode of our favorite series.

We finished dinner quicker than expected and all of our attention was taken away by the tv; or at least Xavier’s. I found myself staring at the choice of pants he wore, gray sweatpants that were usually not worn by him and shoved into the confines of our shared closet unless a special event came up. Without realizing, he chuckled softly, lowering the volume of the television as Xavier grabbed my hand.

“You’re staring, is something on my face? Or rather, my pants?” Oh. I knew he wasn’t that dumb or oblivious to anything I did, Xavier was always so attentive to any small details, whether it was my appearance or a change in my mood; It was so difficult hiding anything from him.

“Have you ever thought of talking about your problems or day while having sex?” I inquired, his face softened, has he dreamt about this before? Before I could even return back to my normal thoughts, Xavier already pressed my body against the sofa. His mouth nipped at my neck, traveling down towards my collarbone while responding.

“All the time, but, I never knew if you were into that, you know the last thing I would do is make you uncomfortable, right?” His soft lips met mine in a quick but gentle gesture. My arms wrapped themselves around Xavier’s neck, caressing his hair while making out with him. The friction between our clothes was enough to leave me whining against his mouth.

“I..know but, would you like to try it, today?” I paused, coincidentally at the same time he stopped feeling me up to look into my eyes with a smile, something telling me it was the beginning of something great for us.

“It’s all up to you, it’s not necessary to have sex just to talk about stuff, however..it would help out in other things..” Xavier’s hands took control of my thighs, wrapping them around his clothed waist as he began to mimic what it would feel like if we were fucking at that moment, in other words, teasing me. With his consent, I grabbed the hem of his sweatpants, (after briefly hustling to get him under me) admiring the way his cock sprung out while tossing the pants and underwear aside.

“I’ve missed this..truly.” He chuckled at my remark as I kneeled, grabbing his thighs while deepthroating him in one go, nearly gagging on his cock. Hearing my boyfriend moan was absolutely rewarding, especially since the piercing he had was indeed sensitive to each small touch given to it; the small prince albert piercing was enough to make my mouth drool. Bobbing my head up and down, his hand grabbed a hold of my hair, pressing my head onto his dick while grunting.

“T-that’s it..! Ah..please..! I’m gonna-!” I parted away from his cock, giving it a few more strokes. His cum shooting across my face in long white streaks; Xavier’s face was a bit red, mostly due to his overstimulation and embarrassment, making me chuckle as he leaned down to kiss me.

“This is..far from over, you know that right?” He nodded, allowing me to sit on his lap all pretty while he helped me get rid of his cum on my face. Moments later, I sunk onto his dick, pressing my hands against his shoulders for support while his hands grabbed my waist, letting him do all the work of thrusting into me.

“Work was so..ngh..tedious today. I had to deal with so many..people- ah fuck..! All so that I could come back to see you” Xavier explained how some wanderers attacked one of the bases that had vital information in. His thrusts became quicker and loose as he kept venting of his day. A sharp thrust made me moan as the highlight of his day was told.

“But..nothing ever beats coming here and wishing to fuck you like this every..single..day. Oh, c-can I?” He asked so softly, his voice nearly a whisper as I nodded, hips rutting to meet mine feverishly while cumming deep inside. Our lips met again, not wanting to let go as Xavier hugged me tightly, wanting to spend some warmth together.

“Feeling better now? If not, you know there’s always round two for more; both ranting and fucking” I spoke, breaking the silence of the room while Xavier’s eyes grew with lust. He smiled while pushing me onto the couch one last time, still connected while lazily thrusting forwards against my overstimulated and stuffed pussy as I moaned.

“Oh so you want me to keep going?” I nodded, my hair splayed against my back, moving sometimes; especially if Xavier thrusted harshly while telling another one of his encounters of the day. After another couple of rounds, he nearly collapsed into my embrace as I chuckled, kissing him to wake Xavier up while he smiled.

“Wait here, I’ll be back” Whispering, Xavier left momentarily after kissing me softly, pulling out from my cunt as I whined. It seemed he was looking for a towel or something to take care of me afterwards. However, I heard the shower run as he came by to carry me towards it.

“You didn’t have to..a towel would’ve been fine” I spoke, sighing in relief as my body made contact with the warm water, my eyes drifting over to Xavier’s body that joined mine in the tub. He clasped my hand softly, kissing the top like a gentleman.

“Of course I had to, I shouldn’t hesitate to take care of you at all times.” His gaze softened upon meeting my own. Lips crashing into one another as he chuckled, pressing my hand against his soft abs while speaking.

“Seeing you like this makes me crave another round..” I smiled, getting out of the tub and wrapping a towel around my body while Xavier did the same but around his hips.

“Weren’t you tired a few moments ago?” His laugh made me laugh alongside him. We got dressed in our favorite couple’s pajamas, my body pressed against Xavier’s as he wrapped his arms around me. A small yawn fell from his lips, murmuring something that made me smile

“I am now..goodnight my dearest” Xavier’s head rested upon my chest, serving as a pillow while a hand grabbed one of then, as long as he was comfortable, nothing could ever disturb me.

[ajbullet]

My thoughts on episode 1 and 2 of Percy Jackson and the Olympians: (spoilers)

- The ACCURACY of the little Percy casting was unbelievable. They look identical.

- The SARCASM 🫶🏻👌🏻

- I’ve never been able to connect with Sally Jackson as a mother-figure in the books just because of my own rocky relationship with my mom, but the way she’s played really made me believe in her character and her love for Percy. It gives PERCY’s character more grounding and their relationship really drives the show.

- Sally just sitting in the rain with Olivia Rodrigo playing. Mood.

- “You fell in love…with Jesus?”

- The friction and “betrayal” between Percy and Grover was super interesting to see and I’m really glad they touched on that more than in the books

- I’ve been pronouncing Brunner wrong. Dam.

- Sally saying goodbye to Percy, knowing she was probably going to die 😭. Percy screaming for her.

- the Minotaur fight was awesome

- “YOU DROOL WHEN YOU SLEEP” Omg I can’t believe she said it. Leah’s delivery was different than how I imagined it but I loved it. She’s so matter-of-fact

- Again, I’ve always struggled with connecting with Luke’s character just because I felt like he was a little two-dimensional in the first book and then after that, you know, he’s evil and while I understood his motivations, I just didn’t really…care? Idk but his portrayal really helped me understand the depth of his betrayal and just how heartbreaking his story really is. I already love him more than I’ve allowed myself to from the books

- “She’s my little sister” I love their relationship while it lasts. Seeing how close they are really adds to the layers of both of their characters

- I’ve also been pronouncing Thalia wrong. Double dam.

- THE BLUE CANDY. PERCY BURNING IT NOT TO TALK TO HIS DAD BUT HIS MOM. That scene broke my heart.

- Leah. As. Annabeth. I’m going to be completely honest, Ive loved Leah from everything I’ve seen about her but I was nervous just because of how precious of a character Annabeth Chase has always been to me and I didn’t know if ANYONE, not specifically Leah, could live up to those expectations but omg I love her. Her bluntness. Her facial expressions. Her voice and delivery. Her sure movements and confidence and self-assuredbess that has come from success after success and training for so long. The way she is so unashamed to admit to using Percy and only watching him to see what he could do for HER. In her short amount of screen time so far, Leah was able to add layers to this character I’ve loved for so long that I didn’t even know where there. I never wanted her to leave the screen. My only complaint is that she didn’t have more lines. She is my Annabeth Chase. She’s not from the books. She’s not from the movies. She’s her own version and she stole the show.

- Luke saying Annabeth has a plan and that Percy will know what to do, only for PERCY TO BE FLOSSING AND PEEING AND PETTING GECKOS and trying so hard not to drive himself crazy with his ADHD and having nothing to do. I genuinely laughed out loud. Might be my favorite part.

- the fight scenes are so well choreographed.

- CLARISSE. She’s too pretty. I can’t hate her. And her ELECTRIC SPEAR. When it broke and she screamed, I got chills.

- The trident.

- Annabeth KNOWING Percy was Poseidon’s before anyone else cause she’s “always 6 steps ahead”

- People already keeping such important info from Percy “for his own good”

- “You are Poseidon’s son” “No, I am Sally Jackson’s son!” Might just be my favorite line. It’s so true. She raised him. She sacrificed everything for him. She loved him and cared for him and taught him that he wasn’t broken, he was singular, a miracle. She died so that he could live.

- Sally Jackson is parenting goals

- The way Percy instantly changed his decision to go to the underworld as soon as Grover told him his mom could be saved. Their relationship is unmatched

- Walker Scobell is already pretty well known, but I have a really good feeling his popularity is going to skyrocket after this show. He is such an amazing, dedicated actor. I know exactly what he is felling 100% of the time.

Overall, I absolutely loved it. In two episodes it’s become a comfort show that I can’t wait to continue watching!!

[barzzal]

call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it. 

Well, not until a few years later. 

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room. 

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted. 

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney. 

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for. 

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him. 

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!” 

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach. 

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away. 

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time. 

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman. 

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice. 

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago. 

Yes, this has been going on for that long. 

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.” 

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable. 

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for. 

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear. 

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see. 

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him. 

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you. 

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying. 

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” 

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop  his forehead. 

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?” 

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…” 

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle. 

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.” 

“Sidney…” 

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be. 

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course. 

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.” 

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?” 

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake. 

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—” 

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?” 

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.” 

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?” 

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.” 

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?” 

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?” 

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?” 

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney. 

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo. 

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you? 

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy. 

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest. 

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father. 

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.  

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons. 

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks. 

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one. 

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name. 

“Taylor.” 

She wastes no second, “Is it true?” 

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer. 

“Come in.” you say. 

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities. 

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies. 

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work. 

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen. 

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over. 

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it. 

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy. 

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand. 

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization. 

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer. 

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?” 

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time. 

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.” 

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him. 

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side. 

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.” 

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.” 

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke. 

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you? 

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it. 

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him. 

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?” 

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.” 

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.” 

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others. 

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under? 

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed. 

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone. 

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you. 

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name. 

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-” 

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.” 

It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you. 

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left. 

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was. 

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season. 

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living. 

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college. 

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed. 

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter. 

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees. 

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t. 

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years. 

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell. 

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words. 

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket. 

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.” 

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home. 

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight. 

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with. 

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed. 

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell. 

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five. 

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”. 

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet. 

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand. 

“No, it’s all right.” you say. 

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched. 

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands. 

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.” 

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind. 

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered. 

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him. 

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel. 

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.” 

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?” 

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing. 

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?” 

He sees you nod. 

You give him a reassuring smile. 

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

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note: patience patience patience. thank you all! ♡

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[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table. 

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.” 

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true. 

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit. 

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—” 

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.” 

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that? 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger? 

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no. 

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education. 

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!” 

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?” 

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already. 

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders. 

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!” 

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead. 

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[kinardsevan]

Buck sees an old video of Tommy during a rescue and is insanely turn on so he goes on a deep dive to find anything he can. Competency kink unlocked

It was all Evan could do to close his mouth as he stared at his brother-in-law’s phone. Chimney had mentioned the rescue earlier in the day, but fuck, something about actually seeing Tommy repel down the side of a mountain with nothing but a harness to hold him up was hot. 

It was a risky move. Granted, Evan was learning his boyfriend loved risky moves. This one in particular though, had been in an icy downpour in the middle of December. He’d been the only one tall enough to be able to make the drop between where the rope ended and the cliffside in order to reach the kids who had fallen there and get them back up into the harness so they could be pulled back up to safety. There was plenty to be said about how the rescue could’ve gotten Tommy killed, but the fact that he’d done it was hot. He’d put everyone else on the scene before himself, never mind the way his clothes were sticking to him from the rain. Even though the video was over a decade old from some news footage, just seeing had been what kept Evan going through the rest of his shift, after which he’d promptly driven to Tommy’s house, determined to get his tongue on his boyfriend's skin and lick every inch of his beautiful, beautiful chest. And that was only the beginning. 

A week and a half later, Evan was stuck on the couch, courtesy of a bad strain in his leg on a rescue of his own. He’d been ordered to sit out the following shift and rest, and of course Tommy had to work. Evan had hated it at first. At least, until he hobbled into his livingroom, halfway through an episode of Days of our Lives when the news cut in. 

It was hot. So hot that Evan had to unbutton the collar of his polo when he saw his boyfriend on the TV.

Harbor was at a scene on a highrise, trying to get people out of a partial collapse, and Tommy was fucking repelling the side of the building to get people out. The news was holding such great coverage that Evan was able to watch him get two kids, an adult, and their dog out of the building before they finally switched to an interview with Chief Simpson. And it was right about that time that Evan realized he was hard. He groaned at the realization, far too frustrated from the way watching his boyfriend work affected him, and even more frustrated at having to solve his own problem. 

Still, he didn’t forget. 

Nine hours later when Tommy stumbled through the doorway to the loft, Evan was at the door, waiting. He promptly shoved Tommy back against it and hit his knees. Tommy furrowed a brow, running a hand through Evan’s hair as he looked down at him. 

“What’s happening right now,” he asked, a little incredulously.

“Watched my sexy ass boyfriend save an entire family today,” Evan replied, unzipping his pants and reaching into them. Tommy groaned and dropped his head back against the door. “Figured he should get a reward for that.” 

Tommy tilted his head down, ready to say that it was just his job, he wasn’t doing anything extra, only to get a full view of Evan going completely down on him, pulling a moan out of the middle of his chest. 

“Fuck, Evan- oh my god.” 

Little laughs, almost cunning. And then all the way down. Tommy jolted. And then, only because he wouldn’t be able to hold it together much longer otherwise, he pulled Evan off of him, pulled his pants back up. Evan scowled at him. 

“I was doing something,” he whined. 

Tommy shook his head, leaning down and sweeping his boyfriend up from the floor, tossing him over his shoulder like a ragdoll. 

“Sorry baby. My boyfriend said I need to do him instead. Besides, you said yours deserved a reward, and this is the one he wants.” 

[sunrise-imagines]

I have a big fat crush on Simon and Finn would you please do some hcs for either of them

Since I’ve already done some for Finn, I think now is a good time to write a little for Simon! Watching him become the latest Tumblr Sexyman™️ has been a dream come true.

*Ending contains spoilers for the last two episodes of Fionna and Cake*

TW: Trauma (this is Simon “‘My fiancé turned into a cosmic deity’ ‘That’s rough buddy’” Petrikov we’re dealing with), mentions of Depression, hurt/comfort

Simon Petrikov x Reader General Relationship Headcanons

• Oh boy, this one’s a doozy.

• Please be patient with him. He is a mess of a person currently, still dealing with the grief of losing Betty and feeling like he doesn’t belong in Ooo no longer being magic. He gets so wrapped up in his sadness that he can neglect the relationships he has in the present. This gets much better after the ending though.

• Self care days are a must, please just pamper this man with a nice hot bath and a massage every once in a while.

• Really good cook, he loves making food for you and it makes him feel like he can actually take care of you.

• He worries about you a lot, especially if you’re someone that likes to take risks and do dangerous stuff.

• He’s a big nerd so he gets excited if you share interests in stuff like science and literature.

• Although he doesn’t like to go on life-threatening adventures (Finn), he still loves the exploring the outdoors and the two of you regularly go for hikes around the safer parts of Ooo.

• Will be very happy if you also have a good friendship with Marceline, seeing his partner and adoptive daughter interact touches his heart.

• Such a simp for you, like if you ask him for anything he will make it his mission to fulfill your request

• His love language is definitely words of affirmation. He needs you to tell him how much you care about him and he loves saying the same to you. He could go on for hours about every little thing he loves about you.

• Marcy and Bonnie will come over for dinner a few times a week, sometimes joined by Finn and HW as well.

• He hates celebrating his own birthday (he’s turning 60) but he loves yours and will definitely bake you a cake and throw small birthday party for you. The party only consists of a few close friends but if you don’t like parties he’s perfectly fine with it being just the two of you.

• At first he wasn’t sure if you would even want to date an old man like him, but as time went on he became more confident in himself and that he deserves love just as much as anyone else, and he’s more than happy to share that love with you.

Bonus!

• Despite her current state, GolBetty is immensely happy seeing Simon finally able to move on and be happy.

• Even if they never got their happy ending, the fact that you and him are able to live happily together brings her peace, and she trusts you to take care of him.