#i'm floored by this week's episode
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VIVANT EPISODE 5
WHAT THE HACYUASL HELL (AGAIN)
(so good!!!)
First, first!!
The moment where Doram and Nozaki try to get Nogi's Face ID at the restaurant was adorably funny.
Also: The Nozaki-Doram-Genghis teamup later? Love it.
Onto the next stuff in this episode (there's so much. I'm only just touching upon some things)
Nozaki being written and treated as a very competent state agent makes me happy. He's not hyper-competent, he has "fun", he's not hyper-serious all the time (that shit-eating-"You won't believe the plan I've cooked up heheheheh"-grin he has is golden--he's smart. He'll mess with people if he needs to and shares only the necessary info he has with those he trusts (at the moment). He also revels in messing with people haha. Plus he uses his jovial nature to get on others' good side, but he's sincere when he means it. I'm positive that prior to all this he truly has taken an interest in Nogi and is going to treat him the same way, but with more subtly poking to figure out what's going on
I love Nozaki (and I truly believe that in light of the reveal this week, he found Nogi endearing, was maybe falling for him or just wanting him to be ok idk, and now has to suspect him and truly learn who he is) but now I'm genuinely worried we will lose someone in the main cast by the finale.
(I have become a Nozaki oshi.)
A theory that had been floated about on twitter by multiple viewers in the VIVANT theories tag actually came to be. Multiple people pointed out that when Nogi was waiting outside the Balka International Bank, he was holding what looked like Ali's phone and something else. At first some wondered if it was a portable charger, but were curious when the switch happened. That was all revealed this week and I can't believe how much theorists were on the point trying to figure out what happened.
Nozaki's true past being discovered was more than I expected though. Amnesia, being sucked into the grim world of human trafficking...is this how Nogi F (or B through E) was born?
Finally: I can't tell if Sam was bad or if the CIA was trying to get Ali as an intelligence asset, BUT NOOOO SAM!!!!! NOGI F HOW THE HELL COULD YOU?! I LIKED OUR LUPIN IIIrd FANBOY CIA AGENT.
(that said, this means he met Sam at the Rongaly Military School then?!)
Jamine being some sort of "miracle child"?! Is Sakurai, Nogi's handler? Who's the head of BEPPAN?!
Now we find out that the character with Nino is Nogi's dad?! That he survived?! Nino is some kind of adopted son?! Or did his wife survive and they had another child?! Ali said he didn't meet her, but had seen the photos...but...still
The amount of silent screaming I was doing during the "execution" scene was obscene. I don't think I could've handled another episode 4 type ending. (That said, I think both Nogi F and Kurosue were willing to go all the way and cut the wires if Ali hadn't cooperated)
And I can't be the only one who is having a hard time telling Nogi A from Nogi F. I feel during the "executions", the apology was delivered by Nogi A. I think that in intense moments like the "executions" they both flip between each other, or even that the true Nogi is the one present. Not one or the other.
Nozaki slowly closing in on the TENT-BEPPAN stuff is wonderful to watch. The fact that Nogi Suguru was an officer with the National Police (and not the Prefectural Police) was surprising. Why did he quit? Why go to Balka? Nozaki being with a federal agency will easily be able to access this information now. What he does with the info he does learn will be interesting because at the moment, with the information viewers have from episode 5, it's that Nogi's father left the NPA(?), went to Balka with his wife and son, something happened, his son was kidnapped and trafficked, he changed his name and somehow he created a terrorist group based in Central Asia using his family's crest as its own symbol? I'm curious how the NPA officer-to-mystery-organization-leader thing happened.
(help this wink after he says "We're Public Security.". helppp!!)
Masato Sakai is a wonderfully talented actor. Episode 5 was an absolute treat of his talents. (Can he get more menacing roles in the future???)
I'm also noticing NogI F's actions and interrogation methods are reminding of an older Masato Sakai drama from 2010 where he led a "double life" (it's nothing like this level) called JOKER: Yurusarezaru Sousakan. In it, by day he's a law-abiding officer of the law and at night he's a bit of a vigilante ala "You have failed this city". There's more to it, but that's all I remember. I couldn't help but feel that as a much more mature actor, Sakai dipped into that a bit.
Speaking of Nogi F, while I understand that what we know of BEPPAN's mission is apparently for the sake of saving the country from a potential attack, it's currently at the "Cool motive, still murder" stage and deeply morally grey. I'd like to know how he came to be paired with Kurosue and if he knows about Nogi F.
Which, from what the lady at the orphanage mentioned, it sounds like Nogi F (or B, C, D or E) have been around since he was a small child....
Anyway. I'm watching Episode 6 after dinner or shortly. Idk. T_T)
#vivant drama#vivant#jdrama#this is an excellent series#i'm floored by this week's episode#let the noginoza nogi-zaki ship saiiiiiil#i've become a nozaki fangirl i think
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just some of my favorite tweets about tonight's (absolutely perfect, truly work of art) episode of interview with the vampire 1/xx
bonus crossover of what we do in the shadows
#iwtv spoilers#interview with the vampire spoilers#amc iwtv#iwtv season 2#iwtv s2#tweets#claudia de lioncourt#armand#louis de pointe du lac#lestat de lioncourt#i don't understand how this show just gets better and better when it's already SOgood like i'm floored each episode#thinking there's no way they can top this and then each week the cycle continues#what we do in the shadows#Like the Light by Which God Made the World Before He Made Light#tweetroundup
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Happy pride month, holy shit
#we've got queer historical era with dnd references and Jonathan Groff#guys Im sorry I think this episode was written for me specifically#doctor who#fifteenth doctor#doctor who rouge#this is the fastest I've made fanart for anything ever#dont look at it too hard#it had to be quick cause I'm swamped with work right now but oh my god Im losing my mind#seriously#I've been making my way though the entire D20 library and this episode had the AUDACITY to come out the second I got to ACOFAF#Regency with bird people is so specific I can't believe this is the second one I've watched this week#thanks Im going to go scream into the floor now#art tag#doctor who spoilers
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wtpr really needs to focus on what i personally want to watch, which is the everything abt episodes 1 and 2 and not the borderline unwatchable romcom moments shoehorned into a story that is primarily about inter-marital blackmail and copious threats of kidnapping. why is there cringe in my thriller
#upsetting!#when the phone rings#still watching tho. ep 6 had its ups (the cliff/the reveal/the creepy kid drowning thing) and downs (WHAT was that retreat ?????)#but overall it's still hitting i'm just disappointed in the general lack of manipulation and mind games in these 2 episodes#acc i probs would've been fine with them if we hadn't had to wait another week thus enabling me to have expectations#however. kdrama writers PLEASE let the 'accidental-kiss-due-to-falling-over' trope die. it's begging to be put down#why r u nuking my man. why is he on the floor :/#i've come to the realisation that i enjoy it more when they're arguing. hm. things to ponder
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#i kept my shit together longer this time at least#i will do anything to get rid of this feeling#it's driving me crazy#it's unbearable#even with nearly double my meds i still want to cry myself to sleep#i kept it together through half the exam season#i did good#but i still shouldn't have to go through this low#my life wasn't even in a high#it was tolerable for the past couple of weeks#but i still haven't fully recovered from that last depressive episode#it keeps coming back every time something minor triggers it#and i don't want to give it that much credit by calling it a depresive episode but i haven't showered in like a fucking week#and i can't see the surface of my desk or use my chair bc it's so fucking cluttered#i still don't know how i managed to clean my rooms floor from all the stuff#I'm really really tierd of feeling this way#i don't like this emotion#i want to feel loved i want to have someone that cares for me#feeling physical pain sounds like a good way to get rid of that feeling#i don't see any other way to destruct me from it#but i won't do it#i'm not gonna do it#i will probably sleep it off#or go into autopilot#I'm putting off going yo bed bc i don't want to cry#and feel bad about it#if i stop holding it together now i don't think i will recover#at least in time to not fail uni#i want to numb it out#i think I'm just going to bury my head under the blanket and hope for the best
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cuffing season pairing: reader x bsf!rafe synopsis: reader isn't getting enough attention from rafe, so she has the bright idea to cuff herself to him. warnings: smut, piv, unprotected sex, MDNI! - wc: 1.7k I’M BACK and better than ever. bpd has freed me from the shackles of my depressive episode and i remembered i’m a hottie. thank you for the request, this was *chefs kiss*
every man smarter than a fifth grader knows one thing for a fact; women thrive on attention. when you ignore a flower, leaving it in the shade, unwatered for days, it wilts up and dies. and you may have well been a gardenia in your past life with how much attention you required. and you? you were definitely wilting up.
it had been two weeks since you last saw rafe; you'd texted him, trying to make plans, but he kept saying how 'busy' he was, or telling you to buy something nice, and it'd be "his treat". what use were cute clothes and sexy lingerie when there was no one to show them off to?
to be fair, he really was busy. you preferred to keep yourself in the dark when it came to rafe's business, simply humming a song inside your head when he talked business with someone while you were sitting in his lap, but you knew he spent most of his time cooped up in his father's old office, but now, he was barely answering your texts, and you decided enough was enough.
so, one night you decided to surprise him. to help him... destress.
you put on one of the new lingerie sets you'd gotten on rafe's dime, wearing nothing over it but the classic/cliché beige trenchcoat, a surprise in your pocket.
you got out of the uber in front of the cameron household, your heels clicking against the cobblestone as you walked up to the door. normally, you'd ring the doorbell, but not wanting to ruin the surprise, you took the key rafe had given to you for 'emergencies', in this case it really was an emergency. you felt like you might die if he didn't touch you.
kicking the heels off your feet when you got inside, you looked around; the house you'd spent time in ever since you were both kids was always so strange in the dark. and now that rafe was the only one living there, the house felt... lifeless.
as you tiptoed up the stairs, you were starting to hear rafe's heated voice, sending shivers down your spine, a small heat in the pit of your stomach starting to spread as you got closer to the door, slightly ajar.
"i don't fucking care what you need to do, just get it done!" he shouted, and you could hear the springs of the office chair, before a breathy sigh left his lips.
"rafe?" you said softly, the man you were looking for startling straight in his chair, looking at you with wide eyes as you stood in the crack of the door.
"oh..." he let out a breath, relaxing again, "it's just you."
"wow!" you scoffed playfully, "what a nice way to greet me." you said as you made your way into the room, walking closer to him, a small grin starting to spread on his lips.
"what are you doing here?" he asked, looking up at you, bringing one of your hands to his lips, pressing small kisses to the back of it, "did i miss a text telling you were coming? if i did, i'm sorry, i've been on the phone for the-"
"shh." you moved your hand to cover his mouth, rafe's brows raising in amusement. "i didn't text you."
he took your hand away from his mouth, "ah, so a surprise visit. well, i hate to disappoint you, but-"
the moment your coat hit the floor, his jaw seemed to be doing the same, the smile on your lips only widening further as you spun around for him, pretending to show off the lingerie instead of tempting him.
"what do you think?" you smiled innocently, "you told me to get something nice, your treat, so i did. i thought you'd wanna see it. oh, by the way, the coat was also on you."
"shit..." his hands found your hips, and you could hear him swallow as he watched the way your ass curved around the thong. you turned your head to look at him, noticing the growing bulge in his pants, "if i didn't have to finish this right now... the things i'd do..."
you turned your body around fully to face him, a small frown on your face as you brought your arms in front of your chest, his hands still resting on your hips. "rafe cameron, you have a half-naked woman standing in front of you, and all you're worried about is work! i need attention too!"
rafe let out a breath he felt like he had been holding in for the past two weeks, "baby, just give me thirty minutes to finish-"
but you didn't even give him three seconds. before he'd even noticed anything, you'd grabbed the pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs out of your coat's pocket, cuffing one around rafe's wrist, and one around yours, the man looking at you with wide eyes.
"what the hell?!" he exclaimed as he stood up, now cuffed to you.
"no 'thirty minutes', no 'fifteen minutes', no more minutes!" you exclaimed, now looking up at him, "i've been missing you for two weeks, and if you make me wait one more second to have your lips on mine, i'm never letting you touch me aga-!"
before you could finish your sentence, rafe had pulled you to his chest, his lips crashing against yours, his lips conveying the yearning he'd been feeling for the past two weeks, mixing in with the yearning you'd felt, pure electricity transferring between the two of you, his body melding into yours, his erection pressing against your.
when you finally pulled apart, the harsh breaths you were letting out mixing in with his, your bodies, and a string of saliva still connecting you.
"you have no idea how much i've wanted you..." he breathed out, causing you to let out a small chuckle.
"me? you have no idea how much i've been craving you."
you pushed him until he was sitting in the chair, the springs of the office chair squeaking, rafe's brows lifted in surprise. you bent slightly to pull down the sweatpants he'd been wearing with your free hand, before you settled yourself onto his lap, feeling his erection through his calvin kleins.
"oh? are you taking control?" he asked in a playful tone as you ground yourself against his bulge, causing him to let out a groan, his a small wet patch already forming on his boxers as you continued grinding yourself against him.
you'd spent the past two weeks needily humping yourself against a plushie rafe had given you, watching videos you two had taken together, and even though you were only grinding your clothed cunt against his clothed cock, you knew that your moments spent alone had nothing on the moments you got to spend with him.
"i need you..." you whispered into his ear, tugging down his boxers, rafe letting out a small hiss as his erection was freed, your lips sucking on the sensitive spot on his ear, a beautiful whimper leaving his lips.
"i need you even more." he said, in turn tugging down the panties you were wearing before his free hand went to your tits, cupping and squeezing them through your bra.
"wanna bet?"
you brought your cuffed hand to his, rafe's free hand on his cock, gathering some of the wetness at your entrance with his tip, and you could picture it mixing in with his precum as he brought the tip of his cock to your entrance, and he was so close, but somehow it felt like you were both in whole different universes.
"i'm sorry..." rafe mumbled, intertwining your fingers, "i promise i'll pay more attention to you... i've just been so busy..."
"i don't ca-"
your sentence was interrupted when you felt his tip enter you, both of you letting out similar groans.
"fuck... has your pussy somehow gotten even tighter, huh? it feels so nice n snug around me, baby..."
"maybe she's just missed daddy..." you sink even further down his cock, rafe letting out groans that were so similar to the first time you two ever had sex, his eyes fixed on you as you sunk lower and lower on his cock until you felt him right there, causing you to let out a gasp.
"looks like she has..." rafe chuckled, bringing his free hand to your hips, as well as the hand intertwined with yours, "you wanna help daddy, hm?" he chuckled, but you were too drunk on the feeling of him in you, under you, around you, to even react to his teasings, so rafe started to move you on his cock, helping you with his hips and his hands.
soon, you were bouncing on his cock without even really realizing what was happening. his cuffed hand was still intertwined with yours, both of them pressed against your hips, as his free hand held onto you, rafe basically guiding you on him, at least until his free hand moved closer to your tummy, his thumb pressed against your clit, slowly circling it, but even without his guidance, your hips knew the rhythm, knew exactly what to do.
your head was thrown back, completely lost in the ecstasy, rafe's touch the only thing you could feel, every time the head of his cock hit your cervix, every circle he drew on your clit with his thumb, and before you even realized it, you were moaning and practically panting his name uncontrollably, the squeeze of your wall around his cock causing rafe to let out grunts as you felt the knot in your stomach finally coming undone.
but as rafe continued fucking up into you, you knew he was nowhere near done with you.
"how does three orgasms sound?" rafe chuckled, lifting his hips with slightly more vigor, the man hitting your cervix right in the middle of your orgasm, squeezing your cuffed hand. "that enough attention for you?"
taglist: @lacydollette @starkeysprincess @rafesfawn @nemesyaaa @littlelamy @drewsephswife @rafeycameronsgf @snowtargaryen @cameronsprincess @ursovaine @jjslaybank
#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#outer banks fanfiction#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#obx rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fic#obx
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COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME
pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader
word count: ~1.6k
warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, surprisingly i thinks there isn't any cursing or smut, maybe next time ;) just good old sad aegon
a/n: this is my first time ever writing for HoTD or GoT for that matter. please be kind to me. i tried to use appropriate wording for the time period. i'm somewhat successful but i have work ahead of me to become a pro.
i felt so enraged when alicent walked out on her grieving son to go fuck around with cole. what the fuck is your problem? i always gave her the benefit of the doubt but this episode just proves what a terrible mother she is. i figured the only person fit to comfort my baby boy aegon is someone raised by rhaenyras gentle heart.
lowkey want to make a throuple out of reader, aegon, and helaena. readers gonna be a little psychologist lol. she'd hold their hands and force them to kumbaya haha but obviously they'd be like this cant work without you. maybe they'll follow aegon the conqueror and have her as a second wife but idk would anyone be interested in that? i'm rambling. enjoy!
Helaena’s Turn
STAY WITH US
The cold stone of the Red Keep kept you company as you strode through its halls. The breeze of the night offered you comfort and aided your mind to forget the terrible events that have plagued the Keep.
And yet, despite your energies being depleted, you can't seem to find rest. Loss weighs you down and spirals you into a depth of overbearing thoughts, making sleep a mere idea.
The Red Keep, the place you once called home, has become your prison. For weeks, you were not allowed out of your chambers, and for a short time afterward, a guard followed you wherever you went.
It has all changed, though. The death of the King's son has diverted all of the guard's forces to find the culprit. The priority is to search for the monster that gruesomely and cruelly decapitated a child while he slept rather than to watch over a harmless Princess who is simply not on their side.
As a result, you're now free to roam the castle, granted there are eyes all around. You wouldn't be able to step foot outside the castle if you tried, and any suspicious activity would immediately be reported to the Hand of the King.
For an unknown reason, your feet guide you to the King's chambers, where indiscernible, muffled sounds come from. You look around and find that the guard meant to protect the King is absent. It's worrisome. You stand in the middle of the stone hallway, your hands clasped, as you make a decision.
While your loyalty lies with the Blacks, you cannot stand and watch more of your family be killed, including the Usurper. Daemon has always been 'kind' in mentioning that your gentle heart will cause your death. You'd argue it's an honorable way to go.
You slip through the ajar door quietly, getting closer to the sound. There is destruction across the room. The Old Valyria model your grandfather worked on for most of his life is scattered on the floor, beyond salvation. Goblets and spilled wine, thrown in a fit of rage, decorate the walls.
It is only when a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath echo around the room that you recognize the sounds you heard outside. They are cries.
You release a breath of relief. No one is in danger, although it does not signify someone is not hurting. You peak further into the room and debate on your next course of action. If the mess inside the chambers and the lack of guards mean anything, it's that the King would like to be alone.
But you know Aegon. You grew up with him. He's not one to reach out for help until it's too late. You make a haste decision. Aegon will not grieve alone tonight.
You know what that's like. Your brother, Lucerys, was murdered not too long ago, and you had no choice but to mourn alone. The Hand of the King locked you in your chambers, afraid your temper would lead you to do something drastic. It's the most horrid thing you've ever endured.
How you wished for Rhaenyra, or anyone for that matter, to hold you while you cried. A maid would've sufficed, but no one was allowed entry into your chambers.
Aegon sits by the fireplace, his head hung low, as he cries for his dead son. It might not have looked like it, but Aegon deeply cared for the boy. He wished to be better than his father ever was, and he was succeeding.
Until two days ago.
You've witnessed firsthand the blanket of sorrow that has covered the Red Keep, spent many hours by Haelena's side, offering her your shoulder, and never realized the King would need the same.
Why is Aegon alone? He should not have to go through this by himself. You expected he would have surrounded himself with his men and countless bottles of wine or sought refuge in Helaena's arms since they shared the same grief.
A heartbreaking cry snaps you out of your thoughts—his whole body trembles from loss. Aegon gasps for air to aid his burning lungs, yet he can't control the tears that track down his cheeks and the raking breaths that course through his body and limit his breathing.
He does not know what to make of himself. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the ring on his finger—the one with the dragon crest. Aegon doesn't know what to make of himself. He's never endured this sort of loss.
His sobs are the ones of a man who lost a part of himself. Jaehaerys, his legacy, has gone too soon. Aegon spent time with the boy the morning before his death, doting on him like Viserys never did to him.
He's so lost in his grief that Aegon doesn't hear when you stumble upon a piece of cast from the model. Being careful with your steps, you reach Aegon's side and place a hand on his shoulder.
Alarmed, he turns to face the person who disturbs him, only to find you—you who have been keeping the Hightower siblings together despite belonging to the other side.
"Leave me be," he sniffs, staring back into the fire. He wonders if that's how his son's pyre looked earlier that day.
You kneel on the floor, settling between his legs to cup his cheeks in your palms. Wide, glossy lilac eyes stare back as they fill with more tears.
As his tears fall, you wipe them away. It's enough to make Aegon crumble in your arms, releasing louder cries and questions that will forever remain unanswered.
It's so easy to let go when you know someone is there to catch you.
Aegon fists your dress like a child would to its mother. You rub his back soothingly, holding him as tightly as you're able. You press a kiss to the side of his head, whispering calming words.
Aegon never wanted to be king, yet the moment he tries to fulfill his duty the moment he tries to be a proper king, he is rewarded by his son being brutally taken from him.
It's not a fair world. The Gods have never been kind to him, and he's afraid he'll only ever live a life of torment.
Now, more than ever, he doesn't want to be King. It is a mere reminder of how heavy the crown truly is. It's a shackle meant to keep him in place while others act upon his name while he pays for the consequences.
"Jaehaerys was a bright soul. I am sorry this has happened. You should've never had to experience this pain," you whisper in his ear. No parent should experience the death of their child. It is a sad reality the Targaryens have experienced all too well.
Aegon nods in agreement, and only when he's calm enough to speak does he tear himself away from your embrace. He instantly misses your warmth and the smell of roses in your hair.
"Why are you comforting me when you should be celebrating my demise?" His waterline is stained red, just like the tip of his nose, and he's never looked more innocent than in that moment.
You tilt your head sadly, that same emotion reflected in your eyes. "I do not celebrate the loss of innocents, especially one that has gone too soon. I also do not particularly like the notion of someone I hold dear grieving alone."
"You did," he sniffs. He remembers hearing your cries that night; the whole Red Keep could. You cried and screamed the entire night until you fell asleep from exhaustion and starvation.
Otto prohibited them from coming to you. Haelena tried, but he dismissed the idea with the false notion that you'd hurt her in your grief. Otto confuses you with your parentage. Unlike them, you're kind and gentle and wouldn't dare hurt anyone.
"Which is how I know I would never wish it upon my worst enemy." You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, tucking the messy strands behind his ears.
"Is that what I am to you? An enemy?" He asks, disgruntled.
"No," you answer immediately, your hands coming down to rest upon his chest. His breathing has calmed since you first saw him. "At least, not yet."
His lilac eyes bore into hers in search of the truth; shyly, you hold onto his gaze with nothing to hide except your intentions to help. Sighing, he closes his eyes and bumps his forehead against yours. Aegon will take what he can get. There's seemingly no one else to help him deal with his emotions.
"Stay," he pleads, holding onto the hand that's placed on his chest. This is the most at peace he's felt in a while. He wishes to savor it for a moment longer.
"For as long as you need, my King," you reply, closing your eyes.
"Aegon," he says. He refuses to be reminded of what lies outside his bed chambers. For just a moment, he wishes to simply be Aegon.
"Aegon," you respond, correcting yourself. He squeezes your hand appreciatively, tucking your head on his neck.
He keeps you in his arms until late hours in the night, recounting memories he shared with Jaehaerys. The pain is real and raw, and he won't be well for a long time, but for this night, Aegon will seek solace in your embrace, where he knows he won't be judged or be seen as a burden.
In your arms, he's not Aegon' the Magnanimous.' He's not seen as careless or reckless or the lesser child of Alicent Hightower.
He's Aegon.
helaena’s part has been posted! HELAENA’S TURN
Final part! STAY WITH US
that’s it! it’s sweet and short. i just wanted to have someone comfort aegon like he deserves. during that scene i wished i could jump into t he screen and hug him. it’s all so tragic.
i wish i could do the same with haelena. my girl needs to be coddled. fuck alicent. fuck otto. most importantly fuck criston cole.
if you enjoyed this one shot please don’t forget to like or comment and if you want more of it feel free to let me know! i don’t bite (unless you want me to)!
#fanfiction#aegon targaryen fanfic#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#aegon ii targaryen#hotd aegon#hotd#hotd season 2#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfiction#aegon targaryen fanfiction
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SPLIT | JJK
banner by the gorgeous @runariya <3
2/3 teaser for my pick the fic! poll 📊 currently in second place we have... split
[pairing] baby daddy jk x ex gf reader
[teaser content] sfw, 1.5k words, 26 jk | 25 yn (i think? haven't read back in a while, will fix this later if i'm wrong), separated parents w shared custody, they’re still besties, but jk wants the resties, jk comes over to pickup baby, cursing, a tiny argument, they're cute i promise
[6:59PM] You Kook, Ji is reallyy sleepy already Is it okay if I give her a nap before you get here or do you want me to keep her awake?
[7:01PM] JK Hi love, I’m around the corner. Let her sleep. I’ll stay for a bit before I take her home? Sent with Siri
You rolled your eyes as you read his response, but you weren’t surprised. The agreed pick-up time for Jiyeon was 8pm on weekdays, but somehow Jungkook kept showing up earlier and earlier. You’d offered to adjust the time if 8 o’clock was too late, considering you had Jiyeon all to yourself for four and a bit days of the week while he barely got three. But he always declined, and you still weren’t sure why.
“Come on, baby girl. You can lay down in your bed for a bit, huh?” you cooed, gently poking Jiyeon’s tummy. Her sleepy eyes, which had just fluttered shut, snapped open with a tired whine. She turned further into the couch, trying to go back to sleep. You chuckled at your pouty girl before scooping her up, letting her snuggle into your neck.
“Appa will be here soon. You can have a little rest until then, hm?” you whispered softly. Jiyeon nodded, her little face burrowing deeper into the crook of your neck. By the time you reached her room, her breathing had already evened out.
You gently tucked Jiyeon into her bed, brushing a stray hair from her face and kissing her soft forehead before flicking on her night light and turning off the main room light. The door creaked quietly as you closed it most of the way, careful not to let it click shut — she didn’t like that. You padded back to the living room, spotting the scattered teddies on the floor. You quickly scooped them up, plopping them onto the couch before flopping down yourself.
Grabbing the remote, you turned the TV volume down low, flicking through Netflix until you settled on an episode of Modern Family. You were just about to press play when the familiar sound of keys rattling in the doorknob caught your attention.
Jungkook slipped in quietly, toeing off his shoes by the mat before locking the door behind him. Your head tilted as you took in his outfit — Adidas shorts and a jogger jacket, his hair still slightly damp from a shower or maybe sweat.
"Did you run here?" you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips.
He just rolled his eyes, closing the distance between you. You leaned your head back against the couch, fully expecting it, and he planted a kiss on your forehead, as usual. Then, cheekily, he dipped down to press a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away too fast for you to swat at him.
"What happened to ‘hi, baby, how are you?’" he sighed dramatically, heading toward Jiyeon’s room.
"Hmm, I think that greeting got revoked when we ended things two years ago? Not sure though..." you replied sarcastically, pulling your knees up onto the couch and resuming your episode of Modern Family.
Jungkook came back into the living room after giving Jiyeon’s chubby cheeks a dozen kisses. “You mean when you ended things?” He narrowed his eyes playfully as he flopped down beside you, twisting your body around and pulling your legs to rest over his lap. You didn’t flinch, still focused on Cam and Mitchell’s argument on screen.
When you didn’t respond, he pouted, his fingers drumming lightly on your bare thighs, toying with the hem of your pajama shorts. That got your attention.
You turned your head to him slowly, blinking. He was staring at your thighs, clearly feeling your gaze but refusing to look up, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Don’t start this again, J,” you warned, eyes narrowing. “Or you can go sit in the hall until 8 o’clock.”
"Done it before," he shrugged, unbothered, catching your foot with his hand when you tried to poke him with it, rubbing his thumbs over your heel in slow, firm circles.
Your body instantly relaxed, a soft grunt slipping from your lips as his long fingers massaged into your skin. “Nevermind, keep doing that, and you can stay,” you sighed, your head falling to the side to rest into the couch.
Jungkook smiled in satisfaction, his hand sliding up to your thigh to tug you down a bit more, adjusting you so you could use the armrest as a pillow while he had more access to your feet. His thumbs pressed into the arch of your foot, working out the tension, and you couldn’t help but hum in approval.
"Always finding reasons for me to stay, huh?" he teased, his eyes flicking to yours briefly before focusing back on your legs. His touch softened, more deliberate, as his thumbs moved over your skin. You rolled your eyes, but the soft smile tugging at your lips didn’t go unnoticed.
For a few peaceful minutes, you watched his tattooed hands gently rub over your right foot, the tension slowly fading under his careful attention. When he switched to your left foot, you broke the silence. "What are you guys going to do tomorrow?"
Jungkook just chuckled softly, continuing his ministrations. You waited, but when he didn’t respond, your eyebrows furrowed. "What?" you asked.
His hands faltered for a moment, and he looked up at you, his dark eyes scanning your face before his brows knitted together. "What?" he echoed, clearly confused.
You blinked, now just as confused. "Why are you being weird? What are you guys doing tomorrow?" A small, uncertain laugh slipped out of you.
Jungkook let your foot fall into his lap as his lips pulled to the side, eyes drifting to the floor for a second before flicking back to you. "The beach? Like we planned? Me, you, and Ji?"
You immediately sat up, your eyes widening. "Uh, what?" You huffed, trying to keep your voice low but failing. "No, that's Sunday. You told me Sunday, Jungkook."
His face pulled back, a mix of disbelief and annoyance flashing in his eyes. "No, I didn't," he scoffed, a hand lifting to run through his hair. "I told you Saturday because Sunday Jiyeon and I are going over to my mom's."
You shook your head in disbelief, letting out a frustrated scoff as you searched for your phone. You spotted it half under his butt, yanking it out from beneath him and hastily unlocking it. "What's the big deal?" Jungkook sighed, watching you scroll through your messages. "Can't we just do it tomorrow?"
"No, Jungkook," you snapped, shooting him a glare. "I have plans. I've cancelled three weeks in a row already, I can’t do that again—"
"Jesus." Jungkook let out a dry, humorless laugh, rolling his eyes as his head dropped back against the couch. "Of course you're ditching the day with us for that fucking loser from work."
Your fingers froze over the screen, your head snapping toward him, fury flaring in your eyes. "Excuse me?" you said, your laugh sharp with disbelief. "Ditch the day with you? Did you miss the part where I said I've cancelled three weeks in a row already? For you?! And he's not a loser, you asshole. He's a nice guy—"
"Yeah, real nice guy who’s been trying to be Jiyeon’s step-daddy for over a year," Jungkook scoffed.
"My god, you’re such an asshole," you muttered, shaking your head as you unlocked your phone and started scrolling through your texts again.
"Said that already," he mumbled, leaning his head back against the couch, watching you patiently.
"Shut the—" You froze mid-sentence, your eyes landing on the texts from last week.
Mother fucker.
[9:47PM] JK Yeah she’s asleep now love. So cutee she wanted a double scoop and she was doing so well
[9:48PM] You Doing so well until...?
[9:48PM] JK Until she threw up all over Jimin hyung lolll it was fucking adorable
[9:49PM] You Hahahahah oh my goddd did you take any photos??
[9:49PM] JK No, I was pissing myself hahaha fuckk
[9:50PM] You 💔💔💔
[9:51PM] JK Love, we walked past the beach on our way home, and it was getting dark, but Ji really wanted to go Only way I could get her to stop pouting was to tell her we’d go back with you next week
[9:52PM] You Stop pimping me out or I’m going to start charging you
[9:52PM] JK How much??
[9:53PM] You Shut up What day?
[9:53PM] JK Saturday xx I'll make us a cute lunch
[9:54PM] You Kimbap?
[9:54PM] JK Uh huh
[9:54PM] You Kay Can you and Ji facetime me in the morning?
[9:55PM] JK We can
[9:55PM] You Thank youu Going to sleep now love you
[9:56PM] JK Love you more baby, sleep well xx
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#📁split.docx#fic teaser#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jeon jeongguk#jungkook drabble#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook scenarios#jungkook bts#jungkook imagines#jungkook fiction#jungkook oneshot#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#bts smut#jungkook x you#jungkook imagine#bts#bts fanfic#bts angst#jungkook fic#bts fluff#jungkook au#jungkook x oc#bangtan
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The way the last 4 episodes of SAFT put me through the 5 stages of grief in world record timing oh my sweet Lord I am not fine
#I was SO excited for the last 4 episodes#and then they turned out like THIS ???#I was ready to rip my hair out#and throw myself off the second floor#there's just TOO much shit going on#and half of it didn't have enough logic in it#but that's another story for another time#I'm just happy there's a part 2 coming#cause if ep 12 was the final episode#I would've had to throw hands with someone#or broke down mentally#or both#moral of the story:#don't have high expectations for a solid week#cause that shit hits TWICE as hard#I was ready for a good time#but NOPE :)#I'm in p a i n.#I just need...to see...Ann and Shalle together again...#Ann needs some more W's in her life#P l e a se#For the sake of my sanity#and hers#ty#Anyway#Sugar apple fairy tale#SuAp Fairy Tale
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hiii so I saw you said request were open! i really LOVE your writing so yk yk i had to ask but can you do like a story where ony does a being mean to my girlfriend prank but y/n is a reallll crybaby!! BYEE
pairings: onyankopon x sensitive!reader
warnings: smut 18+, ony is a lil mean, reader cries a lil bit
a/n: so sorry it took me this long, life has been....lifing.
What goes around comes around
Actions have consequences, you knew this and yet you still decided to go with your plan.
Setting up your phone you smiled into the camera and started your intro.
“Hi, lovelies. Today we’re gonna do a get ready with me, while I tell you three reasons it's okay to cheat on your boyfriend.”
Taking a quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, you could see the wheels working overtime in the handsome head that belonged to your boyfriend.
The decision on whether to be calm or tweak out playing tug of war on his brain.
Settling on the thought that he misheard you he decided to go the calm route.
“Whatchu say, baby?” Deep voice contrasting against the soft tone of Jhene Aiko in the quiet room.
“Hmm?” You feigned innocence as you met his eyes in the mirror.
“I asked, ‘What did you say?’ ” His straightening posture and tone transition to demanding letting you know his patience was thinning by the second.
You were positive this would end with you folded in half, crying from overstimulation as he continuously ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. The thought only excited you and fueled your response.
With a shrug of your shoulders you hummed a quick ‘I don't know’ and went back to your task.
“The fuck you mean youn know?” He chuckled in disbelief, hand running over his freshly maintained waves before coming down to rub the lower half of his face.
Opting to ignore him, you continued along with your routine, silently.
“So you just gon ignore me?” Heavy thuds bouncing off the walls as he made his way to stand behind you.
The light pressure applied to your neck, as he tilted your head back having your thighs clench.
Oh, how you wanted to ditch the plan and jump his bones. Brown eyes glaring down into yours, as he tightened his grip.
Feeling a little risky you decided to do the one thing Ony hates most. Roll your eyes.
“Mmm, aight” He nodded his head. Zero fucks given to the content you were creating as he lifted you from your chair and bent you over.
Never once slowing his assault even after you managed to tell him it was a prank through your moans and cries.
The new information only encouraging him to go faster as your arousal trickled onto the wood floors while he required you to tell the camera why it wasn't okay to cheat on your boyfriend as he fucked you dumb.
Usually, your consequences consisted of the audacity being fucked out of you whenever you did something to piss Ony off, but this time he decided to play a prank of his own.
Waiting a week to execute his plan, he chose to carry it out the day you came back from your girl's weekend.
“You didn't hear me or get my texts?” A small pout forming on your glossy lips as you sat next to him, despite him taking up more than half of the bed.
“Baby, I'm home” You sang as you wandered around the house looking for him.
Only to find him laid out on the bed as he watched an episode of Judge Mathis.
“I did” Eyes trained on the TV.
“Did something happen?” You gripped his jaw, forcing him to finally look at you.
“Nah, I just don’t feel good.” He removed your hand from his face and moved to the opposite side of the bed.
“You need me to make you some soup?” Pout returning to your lips as he flinched away when you tried to check his temperature.
“I’m good. You could leave me alone though.”
You considered yourself to be very understanding when it came to relationships. Whether it was with family, a coworker, or a client, but more than anything when it came to your relationship with Ony. You understood he needed time to himself just as you did, but the way he said it was just… mean.
The stinging sensation of your eyes was becoming unbearable as the tears pooled in the inner corners of your eyes.
“Oh” Voice cracking despite swallowing the lump that lingered in your throat.
Your tone raised alarms in the man. His own heart gained a pace that matched yours as he saw the tears that began to spill from your eyes.
“Wait, I'm sorry, ma. I was just playing. C'mere” Hand reaching out to hold you, only to pause when you flinched away from him.
“Mama, it was just a prank. I'm sorry, baby” Panic rising at the influx of tears flowing from your eyes.
Seeing you cry from any negative emotion always pained him, but knowing he was the reason for the tears falling from your pouty face made him feel as if he failed in life.
“What do you mean it's a prank Onyankopon?” You huffed, the palm of your hand wet as you wiped away your tears.
“I was just joking. You know how you did that video last week? I was doing something similar. I didn't mean to hurt you, mama. Please believe me” He pleaded.
Maybe it was the immense amount of love you had for him or that it'd be wrong to not forgive him when he put up with all your antics, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.
“You really need to work on your pranks. They're terrible” Pink satin pillow softly hitting him along the side of his head.
“I know, I'm sorry, c'mere” He smiled, happy you were no longer crying and motioned for you to straddle him.
Caring less about the fact you were wearing a dress you crawled over to him, getting comfortable on his lap as you traced the small tattoo of your name behind his ear,
“You know you're gonna have to make it up to me right?”
“Mhm” He mindlessly hummed, eyes trained on your lips before he could no longer resist.
Low groan escaping his chest as he pulls you closer, tongue tracing your bottom lip before diving into your mouth.
“Ony” You whimpered as his lips moved down to your neck, peppering gentle kisses along your skin before sucking on the areas that made you weak. Your body craving for some sort of friction as you ground your hips down onto his.
“I know, mama” He murmured. His fingers sliding up your dress before slipping past the waistband of your panties, digits immediately coming into contact with the slick that was pooling in between your chubby thighs.
“Lil ma already soaked for me” He groaned against your warm skin. A small bruise forming where he was previously sucking.
“Ony, stop teasing” You whined as he slowly rubbed your clit, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the bud.
With a slight smirk on his lips his fingers gravitated to your entrance, slowly rubbing at the pulsing hole before his fingers worked their way into your walls.
Fingers knuckles deep as he curled them against the soft spongy flesh against your walls.
“Need you inside now” You pouted, craving something more than the two digits plunging in and out of you.
“Yeah?” He mumbled as he pulled out his fingers. Placing the pads on your tongue as you sucked your arousal off his digits, just as you would do his cock.
Watching you with lust filled eyes he removed his fingers from your mouth, and wrapped a hand around your neck before pulling you in for a nasty kiss. His tongue exploring the path down your throat while you rocked against the growing bulge in his pants.
Pulling away to fumble with the waistband of his pants he pulled down his sweats just enough to release his throbbing cock. Standing tall with his viens prominent and tip leaking a small amount of precum.
“Ride your dick, ma” He pulled your panties to the side rubbing his tip along the slick folds of your puffy pussy, before lining up with your entrance and helping you sink down onto him. Hiss escaping him as your warm walls engulfed him.
“Ony s'so big" You whined in his ear. Allowing him to lift you up and down his cock at a deliciously slow pace, your walls contracting around him at every movement.
“Doing so good fa me.” Two toned lip stuck in between his pearly white teeth as he bucked his hips up to meet your thrust, tip grazing against your cervix.
“Fuck. Faster, daddy, please” You gasped, head resting in his neck as he did all of the work.
Listening to your plea, he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper into you. The sound of your pooling arousal, slapping flesh, and your mixed moans filling the room, atmosphere becoming nastier by the second.
“I love you so fucking much” His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you tried to run when he increased his pace.
“Say it back, ma” He grunted. Palm landing on the flesh of your ass.
Tired off your running, his hands gripped your hips and he pulled you off him, flipping you over onto your back before ramming back into you.
“Ohh, shit, Onyyy” You cried, knees near your ears as he pushed your legs back.
"Say it or I'm stopping" He threatened. Eyes focused on your sopping pussy sucking him in, sticky ring of arousal dripping from the base of his cock.
“I- mhmph love you too Ony, so much” Bed creaking under the speed and force of his thrust.
Releasing your legs he leaned down, lips immediately on yours in a sloppy kiss.
“I'm so close, pa" A mixture of moans and whimpers escaped your agape mouth, nails digging into his back with every thrust.
“Mhm, I know, baby. Let go for me” He grunted, reaching between your bodies to rub his thumb against your clit.
A series of curses left your mouth as you creamed around him. Walls contracting so tightly that he had no other choice but to cum.
“Fuuuck” He groaned, hips stilling inside you as he flooded your walls.
“I'm sorry for making you sad, baby. I love you so much, I'll never do anything to hurt you again” He whispered into your neck.
“I know Ony, I forgive you"
Pulling out he kissed you once more before laying flat in front of you, your thighs on each side of his head.
"Lemme show you how sorry I am, yeah?"
#aot x black reader#black reader#anime x black!reader#aot x reader#attack on titan#chubby reader#aot smut#onyankopon x black y/n#aot onyankopon#onyankopon x reader#onyankopon#attack on titan smut#aot onyankopon x black!reader#aot fic#aot onyankopon x black y/n#ony smut#onyankopon smut#ony x black reader#onyankopon x black reader#onyankopon x black reader smut#onyankopon x chubby reader#onyankapon
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Oscar was frozen to the spot. It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing, but as soon as it did, he saw red.
Warnings: this is a heavy one guys, army!oscar and army!reader, non descriptive sexual assault!!!, I tried to describe it as vaguely as I could so no details, I feel like this is obvious but just in case the SA is not with Oscar, angst, kinda hurt/comfort, then some pretty freaky smut, I despise the very concept of the military but I'm a whore for a man in uniform so… here we are, vaguely based on that one episode of ‘Lie to me'
You and Oscar were very competitive. Everything from punctuality to training exercices were a chance to one up each other.
He was taller and stronger than you so it made physical challenges his area of expertise.
But you were more agile, more analytical, and a definite asset to the team.
You loved a man in uniform, but Oscar was just so insufferable not even the way his broad physique filled out his fatigues could save your opinion of him.
He was cocky, arrogant, and hated being wrong.
You bickered constantly, and the only reason your fights never got physical is because neither of you wanted a dishonourable discharge on your records.
You were always out on missions with your squad, and right now you were in Afghanistan.
Your sergeant was a different kind of man.
Nice, but a little bit creepy, would sometimes walk into the female locker rooms without announcing himself…
But he was always sweet to you. He was exceedingly polite, and never made any passes at you. He never made you drive the front convoy car, even though everyone was supposed to take turns doing it.
Which in a way you were grateful for, given that it was the most dangerous position to be in, even though it was a bit unfair to the others. You’d heard rumours, but he never did anything to you.
Until today.
Your last day before returning home.
The temperature in your tent was stifling that afternoon, so you'd gone off to a local spring that was surrounded by walls of rough rock to cool off and relax after a stressful few weeks.
You were in shorts and a sports bra, nothing indecent in case one of your fellow privates came along.
And the sergeant had apparently followed you there, because as soon as your outer layers were off, he sidled up next to you and put his hands on your hips from behind, making you jump.
“Hello, beautiful”
“Wha-” You tried to turn around and push him off, but he was too strong and pinned you against the rock face.
You struggled, but he quickly insured you couldn't call for help by putting a hand over your mouth.
“I think it's time to repay me for my generosity over these past few weeks, no?”
You were stuck, body pressed between him and the rocks, and you felt utterly helpless against his tall muscular frame.
…
Oscar was looking for you. He wanted to apologise to you after your brief argument earlier. He'd been a bit of a dick and you called him out, nothing out of the ordinary.
He was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, because despite the two of you always being on the verge of hating each other's guts, you pushed each other to become better, and he wasn't going to lie, he did have a bit of a soft spot for you.
Which is why when he turned the corner and saw you and the sergeant pressed together, the first thing he felt was intense jealousy.
But the way you seemed to be squirming in his hold, and the way he was holding you down sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body.
He didn't even think twice, he sprinted over and dragged the other man off you, throwing him on the ground easily.
The half-second glance he spared you told him everything he needed to know. You were on the verge of tears, and there were a couple of scrapes and bruises forming on your skin.
He turned and stalked towards the man on the floor.
You were so shocked at the sudden turn of events your legs gave out and you tumbled to the floor with relief.
Your eyes filled with tears and you turned away to get your clothes, but your body didn't respond.
You were forced to watch as Oscar straddled the sergeants waist and landed a well aimed blow to his nose, breaking it instantly.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing to her?!” he hissed, anger seeping from him in waves.
“None of your business, Piastri” the other man said, earning him another hit.
“Don't you ever touch her again, you hear me?”
The sergeant tried to spit at him but Oscar just landed another, much harder punch, this time knocking him out.
He stood up with a snarl, landing a hard kick to the man's ribs for good measure, and made his way over to you.
You were curled up with your knees tucked under your chin and tears still blurring your vision.
“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, crouching down in front of you, a hand hovering somewhere near your arm, unsure if you were okay with being touched right now.
You didn't want to appear weak, and you didn't trust your voice so you simply gave him a swift nod.
Unfortunately the movement dislodged a few tears, which fell down your cheeks.
His heart broke.
“I'm sorry, that was a stupid question, really” he sighed at himself “Let's find your clothes and get you back to camp, then I’ll contact-”
He was looking around for your clothes and you couldn't help it, you surged forwards to wrap around him in a tight hug, almost knocking him off balance.
He took that as a sign that he could touch you, and held you in his arms, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his shirt.
You don't know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the air temperature to drop as the evening rolled around, and a chill ran down your back.
You shivered and he helped you grab your clothes before heading back together, leaving the sergeant unconscious on the ground.
He stuck by your side all through dinner, keeping an eye on you as you ate your meal in relative silence while the others chatted away about their excitement of getting back home, not noticing that the mood was very different at the other end of the table.
You looked so downtrodden, Oscar didn't think twice before asking “Do you want to stay in my tent tonight?”
It was a bit of a risky question when he thought about it, but to his surprise, you nodded immediately and smiled at him sheepishly.
“If you don’t mind… I don't want to be alone in case… well…”
He smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. “I understand, don't worry”
…
His tent was the same as yours, but somehow it seemed much smaller because of the mess that was in it.
Clothes (uniforms) and bags were strewn everywhere, and for some reason he had two sleeping bags.
“I get cold easily!” he whined defensively when you asked him about it.
You smirked. “Aw does little Osc need a hot water bottle to keep him warm at night?” you cooed mockingly.
He rolled his eyes at you and slipped into his sleeping bag to take his pants off without you watching him.
You raised an eyebrow at him questionningly. “Since when are you shy about getting undressed?”
He chuckled “I wouldn't want you to get a glimpse of my banging bod and fall in love with me” he joked.
You scoffed. You'd seen him in his swimwear before and he knew that.
You took your over clothes off in front of him nonchalantly, not bothering to hide yourself given that he had also seen you in swimwear, and he sucked in a breath and quickly looked away.
For a dick, he was being quite a gentleman, and something stirred inside you at that fact. You didn’t know he was capable of being a gentleman.
You slid into your own sleeping bag and sighed in relief, your body fully relaxing for the first time since this afternoon.
You were both lying there, in slightly awkward silence.
You thought back to how quickly Oscar had reacted, and shuddered at the thought of “What if? What if Oscar hadn't been out there at that moment?”
The distress must have shown on your face because Oscar asked “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing” you replied a bit too quickly, avoiding his gaze that was burning into the side of your face.
“You're a bad liar” he muttered softly, not a hint of joking in his tone.
“You know you're probably going to get a court-martialed when we get back?” your voice trembled as you realised that the thought of not having Oscar around made you sad.
“I doubt that, I was protecting a fellow officer. If anything he's the one who should be getting court-martialed.”
You sighed. In a perfect world.
“That's generally not how these things go, you know? They'll probably find a way to blame me and then I’ll be the one in trouble…”
Oscar rolled over onto his side and stared at you with a serious expression.
“Look at me” he ordered. You turned your head to see a stormy look in his eyes “I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. And if it does I will quit the army altogether.”
You blinked at him.
“You don't have to do that”
“Of course I do.” He glanced down briefly at your lips. “If I don't who will?”
You felt tears prickle at your eyes again and you gulped down the emotions threatening to spill out.
“Thank you, Oscar” you breathed.
He smiled “No problem”
“No. I mean thank you for earlier… not every man I know would have done what you did”
His eyes softened as he looked at you.
He didn't need to say anything, you both knew it to be true.
You fell into a comfortable silence and you almost drifted off, if it weren’t for the slight movement next to you.
“You okay?” you asked, seeing that Oscar was searching around for his disguarded shirt.
“Yeah, I’m a bit cold so I’m going to put my clothes back on”
You watched him put his shirt on, and you felt sorry for stealing his sleeping bag.
“Well… you know the most effective way to maintain body heat?”
That made him freeze. Of course he knew, it was basic training. The best way to warm up was to share body heat with someone.
“You…” he gulped “You wanna do that?” his eyes met yours. “For me?”
You smiled at him “Sure. It’s the least I can do”
He frowned at that. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, that’s not why I-”
You shushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I know, but I feel bad that you’re cold because of me so I want to help you get warm, simple as that”
Without another word you unzipped your sleeping bag, then his, and zipped them together to essentially form a big sleeping bag for two.
Oscar was a bit red in the face at your sudden proximity to him but he looked mildly impressed. “Ingenious”
You rolled your eyes and lay down on your side with your back to him. “Whatever, now shut up and get over here”
He grumbled something you couldn’t hear and shuffled over to you, his arm hovering awkwardly.
“Can I, uhh- you know, touch you?”
Thank god he couldn’t see your face or he would have seen how you blushed furiously at his words.
You had to scold yourself for your unholy thoughts.
“Of course”
His arm was draped over your middle, and you could feel the heat of his chest almost touching your back, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to press his body to yours, which was the whole point of this.
“Oscar, you do know the concept of spooning, yes?” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He mumbled out a ‘yes’.
“Then you know your body needs to be touching mine, yeah? Not just your arm.”
“I uh- I don’t think that’s a good idea right now” he whispered, and his breath on the back of your neck made you shiver.
“Why not? I told you it’s fine, we’re just sharing body heat”
He sighed. “I can’t. I have- uhh, a problem.”
“What problem?”
“You know... A problem that would make it very uncomfortable for both of us to spoon right now”
Your breath hitched. “You mean…”
The silence stretched on and he didn’t say anything.
“You mean you’re… you've got- uhh…”
“Yeah” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I usually … you know, before I go to bed but you’re here, so… yeah”
Your face was burning now. You now had the image of Oscar getting rid of his problem swimming around your head.
“You can deal with it… if you want. I don’t mind. This is your tent.”
His arm twitched where it was lying against you. “No I’m not doing that while you’re here!”
“Why not?” you were feeling emboldened by the obvious stutter in his breathing “It’s a natural bodily response. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Oscar had to thoroughly recompose himself, before saying something he’d regret.
“No it’s fine, it’ll go away in a minute.”
“Okay, suit yourself” you sighed, closing your eyes and your brain unhelpfully supplied the image of you helping him with his problem.
Neither of you said a word after that, you were both too busy trying to think of something else, anything else, rather than the ache between your respective legs.
It had been a while since you'd been in this close a proximity to a man, especially one as fucking fit as him.
And he was fucking hard. And probably big as well, if the size of his ego was anything to go by.
You felt him shiver behind you.
“Oscar” you turned around so that you were facing him. “It’s not going to go away is it? So either accept it, or get rid of it, but I don’t want you to be cold!”
His eyes were wide as he met your challenging gaze. You didn't know where this brazenness was coming from, maybe it was pure adrenaline, but you turned over again and huffed. “Now get on with it”
A beat passed without a sound, before he started shuffling around.
“You sure you're okay with this?” he asked tentatively.
“Yeah go ahead, pretend I'm not here”
Oscar sighed and reached a hand down over his underwear, giving himself the lightest squeeze. Damn, he was really hard.
“Shit, okay” he said, talking to himself more than anything.
He slid his boxers down enough to free his cock and wrap a hand around his girth.
He bit back a moan.
He was determined to do this quietly, for your sake.
You'd told him to ‘pretend you weren't there’ but that wasn't possible for Oscar in that moment. Firstly because the heat radiating from your body was impossible to ignore, secondly because when he closed his eyes all he could see was you, and all the past dirty fantasies Oscar had had about you when he got himself off.
He'd thought of what it would be like to see you on your knees for him, begging for his cock, or how you'd look bouncing on top of him while he sucked your tits.
He was just a man after all.
And he was so hard it hurt, and he was trying his best to not let any noises slip.
But you could hear the slight movement of his hand against the sleeping bag, and the way his ragged breathing was getting heavier, and then his almost silent whimpers.
And now you were getting turned on.
It's not like he was being loud. By any account it should have been easy to ignore him, but all of your senses seemed to have tuned in to him, and only him.
You could almost see him in yoir mind, lips bitten raw and eyes squeezed shut as he worked his cock frantically, trying to come as fast as possible while you were inches away from him.
The heat between your own legs was becoming unbearable, you needed some kind of relief, so you didn't think twice before sliding a hand into your own underwear.
The first touch against your clit sent an instant wave of relief over your body, so you carried on, sliding a finger through your folds, which were so wet it slipped right in with no resistance.
You flexed your wrist, careful to not make any movements that might alert Oscar to what you were doing.
It was filthy, rubbing one off to your friends sounds, but you couldn't help yourself. You were getting wetter by the minute and the pressure of your palm against your clit just felt so good.
You were biting your lip in an effort to stop the noises coming out of your mouth, and you were doing a better job of it than Oscar, because he was letting out pathetic little whimpers.
“Fuck” he let out a quiet breath, and you almost would have missed it had you not been listening intently.
You clenched involuntarily around your fingers at the sound, and let out a high pitched noise of your own.
He froze, worried that he'd somehow gone too far.
“Shit- sorry… I'll stay quiet I promise”
You let out a breath, not stopping the movement of your hand.
“Oscar”
“Yeah?” he sounded breathless as his head whipped up to look at you.
“Don't stop, fuck-” you were so fucking needy you could feel yourself slowly creeping towards an orgasm.
Oscar's brain stalled as he realised exactly what you were doing, and his cock throbbed at the thought of you getting off to his noises.
“Are you…?” he asked, hand picking up the rhythm, aided by the steady drip of precome leaking from his tip. “Are you touching yourself as well?”
“Yeah… I'm sorry” you whined “You just sound so hot, Osc, couldn't help myself…”
His brain melted at the nickname, and at how fucked-out you sounded already.
“You have no idea how fucking hard I am right now” he groaned in frustration.
“fuck- I need you” you were trembling, you just needed a little extra push to get over the edge.
“Jesus” he gasped “What do you need?”
“Need you inside me, please” you begged so prettily, how could he refuse such a request.
His body finally made contact with yours, and you could feel him against the curve of your ass.
He reached around your body and replaced your hand with his.
“Fucking hell, you're soaked” he grunted as you quickly slid your underwear off and hooked your leg over his hips to pull him closer to you.
You took his cock in your hand and for the first time felt exactly how big he was.
“Fucking hell Oscar” you gasped.
He chuckled and lined himself up with your dripping cunt, rubbing himself through your folds.
“Fuck me Osc, please” he swiftly pushed inside, and the way he stretched you out so perfectly made your brain turn to static as he wasted no time, thrusting in and out of you shallowly.
You turned your head to the side and grabbed his face to join your lips in a messy kiss, panting as he buried himself in you to the base.
You shuddered as his cock kissed your cervix over and over, all the while rubbing your clit in fast tight circles in an effort to make you come before him, both of you being already so close to the edge you could taste it.
Neither of you lasted very long. As soon as you started clenching around him he was a goner, and he came inside you with a punched-out groan of your name while you whined into his mouth.
You were too exhausted to move, so he kept his softening cock inside you, and wrapped his arms around you to hold you tighter.
“Well, I'm not cold anymore, that's for sure…”
You giggled and slapped his arm playfully.
He responded by leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours in a passionate display of emotion that you were too tired to unpack right now, so you just enjoyed the moment, smiling into kiss.
You fell asleep like that, in each other's arms.
When you got back, you discovered that several complaints had been made about your Sergeant, and there was some kind of investigation involving lie detector tests.
He did end up getting arrested, and you were promoted for your troubles, and because you deserved it, of course.
Apparently he was the one that had been preventing you from getting that promotion, on the grounds that you were better off under his supervision, as he put it in his reports.
So you sued, and won, and Oscar was so proud of you he bought you an engagement ring, which he gave to you in Paris, on the Seine, while a accordionist played Careless Whisper behind you.
It was raining fucking buckets, and the accordion sounded dreadful, but to you it was absolutely perfect.
Oscar found it incredibly hot that you were now his superior, and often called you Sir to rile you up.
So naturally, you regularly had sex in your uniforms, because you were both absolute freaks about it.
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Hii! I love your work SO MUCH but i'm not really sure if you're taking requests. Yet i'm here asking if you'd be comfortable to write a marauders or wolf star or any of the ships with reader who has epilepsy? and how they comfort reader after a seizure? i've always wondered what they'd do after my episodes. Feel free to delete this one if jts not your thing and have a great week ahead!!!
thanks for your request, sweetheart! do forgive me if there are any inaccuracies in my depiction of epilepsy as I'm not super well-versed in the subject other than what to do in a first-aid setting! google don't fail me now 😩
poly!maraudres x gn!reader who has epilepsy
CW: depiction of a seizure, anxiety, loss of consciousness, hurt/comfort, Sirius' cooking
You could hear voices murmuring around you - perhaps stationed somewhere above you - though you weren’t currently confident in your spatial awareness. You couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, but you could tell that they were nice; that the voices were lovely.
Or perhaps there wasn’t any voices at all, perhaps it was just a presence; perhaps it was just a lovely presence. Either way, you were sure you felt grateful for it.
“Easy dove, there you are.” You heard whispered as a breath was forcefully exhaled from your lungs. “There you are, you’re alright sweetheart. You can stop the timer, Pads.”
You hadn’t realised you had started crying until someone was shushing you and wiping tears away from your cheeks.
“Remus’ll be right back, angel; he just went to get you some water.” A voice explained from above you; James, it was James’ voice.
It was James’ voice and you were on the floor; how had you ended up on the floor?
You were having dinner; Sirius had made dinner for you all - roast chicken and potatoes. It was supposed to be roast chicken, potatoes, and broccolini, but he had burnt the broccolini.
It had been a lovely meal until it wasn’t; it had been a lovely meal until your mouth started to taste like metal.
“You feeling alright, sweets?” Sirius had asked when you abruptly stopped talking and set your fork down beside your plate.
You were upset - and perhaps a little scared, though this certainly wasn’t anything new - and you hadn’t been ready to admit what you thought was about to happen; not right then, not aloud.
You simply shook your head no.
“Is it Pads’ cooking? Because we can order take away.” James had offered in jest, only cluing in that something was wrong when Remus gently nudged James’ elbow with his knuckles.
“Seizure?” Remus asked simply.
You squeezed your eyes shut - in embarrassment or fear, you weren’t entirely sure - and nodded your head yes.
It was like a switch was flipped and they all fell into business mode.
“I’ll go move the coffee table.” Sirius proclaimed as he hurried from the table towards the living room and James was at your side to help you up.
“I’m sorry.” You gritted out miserably, earning you a sad sigh from James who was all but carrying you into the next room.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”
And you could only trust that this was true as your consciousness began to fade just as your body was lowered onto the carpeted floor.
It had been a seizure, you had a seizure.
“Hey dovey.” You heard above you; a slight breeze prickling your skin alerting you to the fact that Remus had just returned.
A spike of worry surged through your core as you let out a few quick breaths. “Rem.” You sobbed.
The sound of something being set down on the coffee table, James shifting away from you to make room for Remus, and two strong hands cupping each side of your face.
“I’m right here, love. Can you open your eyes for me?” He murmured softly, rubbing at your cheekbones with his thumbs.
A few quick puffs of hair left your lips again, but you were distracted from your panic as you felt gentle fingers press into your calves.
“You’re alright, we’ve got you. Open your eyes, dovey.”
You tried to take in a deep breath as you relented; opening your eyes to have your vision swimming with the sad smile of Remus. “There you are; you’re alright.” He promised you.
“Anything sore?” Sirius asked uncharacteristically quietly for your arguably most boisterous boyfriend as he continued tracing soothing circles on your Achilles tendon.
“I don- I don’t think so.” You whispered through a hiccup.
You heard James whimper in sympathy as his hand appeared on Sirius’ shoulder.
“D’you think you can manage a shower or bath?” Remus asked then, encouraging your eyes back to his as he seemed to survey your face.
You considered the welcoming warmth of a bath or shower, but your stomach seemed to roll at the thought of doing anything other than laying down for the next foreseeable future.
Your face seemed to give away your decision as Remus sighed and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Cuddles it is then, hm?”
James was suddenly behind you pressing an upside down kiss to your forehead before he was encouraging your shoulders upwards into a seated position.
“Water,” Remus started as he placed the glass into your hand. “And paracetamol.”
You took the tablet (as a preemptive solution for a potential headache) and drank the glass of water dutifully earning you two more forehead kisses by Remus and James and a squeeze of your foot by Sirius before James was helping you up and ushering you to the bedroom.
Time seemed to move oddly as someone helped you change into a pair of pyjamas and ease you under the covers of the bed.
“Jamie and I will clean up, m’love; you cooked.” Remus murmured quietly to Sirius who seemed painfully uncomfortable as his eyes darted nervously between you and Remus.
“I think it should be you who stays, Rem.”
James sighed as he rested his hand on the juncture of Sirius’ neck and rubbed at the column of his throat with his thumb. “You know Y/N gets anxious after a seizure, Pads; just like Moony is always the first name you call out after a nightmare, yeah?”
“Siri.” You whimpered; your voice sounding particularly pathetic even to your own ears.
The three boys seemed surprised by your voice, clearly under the impression you’d fallen asleep during their quiet deliberation.
“Jamie and I will clean, Sirius. You’re in charge of snuggle duty.” Remus repeated. And while some apprehension was still obvious in his face, he seemed to concede to your grabby hand and Remus’ imploring gaze.
The two boys left the room as Sirius carefully slid in under the covers beside you.
Out of all of your boyfriends, Sirius was often left the most upset by your episodes; when he felt strong emotions (such as fear or worry), he tended to shut down.
“I ruined dinner.” You pouted as Sirius pulled you into his chest.
He let out a teasing scoff with only half the amount of humour he usually carried. “I ruined dinner by offering to cook, sweetness.”
“You guys didn’t even get to finish eating.” You carried on, tears painfully obvious in your voice which made even more tears well up in your eyes simply in embarrassment for crying.
“No, no baby; none of that now, yeah? I was full, Jamie was ready to order pizza, and I’m pretty sure Remus was feeding the chicken to the cat anyway.” He promised, stamping a kiss to your head and pulling you in closer to his side. “You never ruin anything, ever. You make everything better simply by being there, okay?”
“I don’t mean to scare you.” You whispered, feeling painfully vulnerable and simultaneously wholly safe in Sirius’ arms.
“You don’t scare me. You don’t scare me; I am scared because I feel useless. I hate not knowing what to do for you baby.” He whispered back.
You hummed as if in thought for a few as you felt your eyelids growing heavy. “This.”
“Hm?”
“Do this, just this; that’s what you can do for me.” You slurred as you felt the heavy hands of sleep dragging you further into the mattress beneath you.
You could feel Sirius chuckle - both in the form of the air he breathed into the crown of your head and the gentle rumble of his chest - as he pressed another lingering kiss into your hair. “Consider it done, my love.”
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#marauders#marauders x reader#marauders x you#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders angst#poly!marauders blurb#gn!reader#gender neutral reader#drabble#hurt/comfort#james potter x reader#james potter x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin drabble#sirius black fic#james potter imagine
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Autism and Fecal Smearing
I want to get this out of the way first so I'm just gonna say it, I struggle with this awful habit which is called diaper digging and fecal smearing, this post (and blog for that matter) I don't want to shy away from talking about this stuff. So yeah if I have a bowel accident, am frustrated/overstimulated/angry/sad, and am left alone for a few minutes I tend to do this. It's not as bad as before because I have preventative measures in place, like special onesies that make it so I can't remove my diaper myself (ughhh whatever...) and crunchy scented textured slime that my mom will add even more scent to just to make it overwhelming. The average number of episodes has been greatly reduced but I had one a couple weeks ago when my onesies were in the watch so the topic is fresh on my mind.
A lot of caregivers and autism parents are mystified and baffled by this habit and wonder why we do it. I can't speak for everyone, only myself, but to me personally the scent and texture of feces is so overwhelming and strong that I get a "high" from it. I take cannabis edibles daily and my parents let me get drunk once a month so I'll say its very comparable. I get a rush from it. My life can be so monotonous sometimes that smearing crap feels like getting away with a bank robbery, I go from extremely angry to feeling before then to like a happy giddy kid without a care in the world. I zone out so hard that I end up smearing it all over my face, walls, floor, and if it gets in my mouth I'm usually too far gone to care. I do not do it because I'm mad at my parents, I do not do it because I want to get back at them for something, I simply do it because my need for sensory input is so strong and when I'm about to go into a potentially violent meltdown I reach for the sensory nuke when my normal things to stim with just won't cut it. No high is complete without the crash and there's a crash. Seeing my parents and one of my unlucky friends SOOOOOOO unreasonably mad, it's terrifying. My parents got used to it and eventually just shrugged it off but I have heard them lose their cool over it several times and have heard my name and every cuss word in the book the room over where they clean. Not nice of them but I do not blame them one bit but the feeling inside hearing that is very real for me. I guess they got too good at shrugging it off. I had an incident where I smeared in the bathroom of one of my high school friends, very chill guy, look at me and scream at the top of my lungs, and punched a hole in the wall in the living room. I didn't know the painting he had in his bathroom was that rare but I ruined it completely and that's why he reacted that way. He could of done better but I do not blame him one bit. After that though seeing a side of that friend that I never seen before scared me into wearing the stupid onesie suit every day without fuss or a fight when before I would. Not only the suit but I have the replacement slime on me at all times, if I have a BM I tend to just pull it out and play with it. This doubles up as subtly letting my parents know I need a change, which I like cause I don't have to ask verbally which can feel kinda degrading sometimes. There is one good thing that has happened with this though. My hippie parents looked at my turd stained walls and thought I had some latent artistic talent and needed self expression and bought me art and painting supplies. They were misguided, it didn't prevent any incidents but I still took the art well. My therapist at the time had some art connections and the art I made was featured in what's known as an "outsider art" gallery. I sold a few pieces for 300-600 each. It's just a little bit bitter sweet cause if you've seen the King of the Hill episode about the Probots or just know a bit about outsider art in general, you'd know the way they market it is kind of, problematic to say the least. The gallery's artist profile for me made me out to be some kind of idiot dunce and made my parents look like heroic geniuses for spotting this talent or some shit and it's embarrassing that my artwork sold most likely cause of that over the strength of the art. Like oh wow look at this stupid R word who plays with poop his cool parents are soo smart, ughhhh. However I guess that's just the art game and I'm super proud of myself I made a couple thousand dollars of MY OWN money, it meant the world to me to have it. I'm not allowed to post my artwork on here and I wish I could share it with you on MY terms and not the gallery's but my parents are worried it could come back to my identity.
I want to end this post by saying if you engage in fecal smearing you are not stupid, broken, or filthy. You are a human being desperate for relief and you took the fastest way to get it. Shout out to all my autistic homies who smear or have smeared, I see you and you are loved.
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LUNCH ⎯ C. Berzatto
carmen interviews a new girl for the recent waitressing job at the bear, and she's been the recent reason for his journal entries the past two weeks.
carmen berzatto x fem!reader
warnings: sexual themes (18+ MDNI), cuss words, carmen being super whipped but also kind of a perv, reader is kind of a ditz but so am i, reader has tats because i do too, reader also doesnt have much dialogue bc it's mostly from his pov.
word count: 1k
a/n: not really based off any specific episode or season in the series. i just love carmy so much <3
"Chef i need you to take over for at least an hour, i got an interview in 10." Carmen instructed Sydney, walking into the office as the kitchen staff began to prepare for open. The staff- mainly Sydney, Richie, and Carmen desperately needed a waiter in house. With how busy the restaurant was beginning to get they needed more than Nat out there.
"Are you gonna hire her?" Sydney asked; Carmen had briefed her about the applicant a day prior. He sat down, refreshing himself on the resume before meeting with her.
"Well she's the only applicant so far, so I don't really think I have a choice chef," before he could finish his thought he heard the chime of the entrance door. Glancing down at the time it read 10:51.
Early, off to a good start, he said to himself quietly. He gave one puff of cologne on his neck to try and musk the smell of kitchen before going out into the front of house to start the interview. Carmen forgot how to breathe for just a few seconds when he saw her- easily the most beautiful person he's seen walk in his restaurant.
"Um- Hi I'm Carmen Berzatto, the owner, you must be Y/N?" He introduces through a deep breath and a shaky hand that he extends. She takes it with a smile, following his lead. The soft taps of her high top converse against the tile floor, the flow of her skirt twirling as she turns in front of him slightly. It's exhilarating.
"Can I get you something to drink before we start? Water, a soda, coffee?" He offers, standing tall next to the table side. She grins and shakes her head denying his offer, her sweet sounding voice making butterflies flutter around in his stomach. That hasn't happened in a while.
They make small talk for a little while, Carmen asking pre-thought out ice breakers before getting to the real questions. But if he's honest with himself he isn't even listening to her answers. He's too focused on the way her lips move and how she purses her lips when she thinks about an answer.
He's taken great notice of the tattoos she has on her arms, in similar places to his own, all black outlined like his too. one is written in french, he assumes, right above her wrist on her arm. One is two small birds on the inside of her forearm. He wants to pause the interview just to talk about what they all mean to her. Partially because he wants to hear her voice for the rest of his life. He wants to press record on his phone and listen to her talk about whatever she wants to, her voice is that angelic.
"Can I ask you what the tattoo on your hand means?" she asked and he thought he was going to faint because she grabbed ahold of his hand gently to get a better look at it. She giggled when she got a better look at the artwork.
"It's to remind me to be careful when I chop vegetables, essentially," Carmen explained with a chuckle. "What does the one on your wrist mean?"
"Terre à terre, down to earth. I dont want to stray too far from who I was raised to be, so that's a reminder. I also have a couple more in french- my grandmother was french so I have a lot of french things in my life." She pulls up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal another tattoo, "étoile filante, shooting star. The first time I saw a shooting star was on my sixteenth birthday, my worst birthday actually."
He reminded himself to close his mouth because he knew he was about to start drooling, hearing the way her silky voice sounded even better in a foreign language.
He breezed through the interview, Natalie insisting that even though there are no other applicants and she'll probably get the job, do it the right way. "I'll give you a call by the end of the week, Y/N. It was a pleasure having you today." He shows her out of the restaurant, walking her to her car for safety, of course."
When Carmen got back inside, before he got to joining the team in prepping for the lunch crowd he pulled out his journal that he started to carry with him. It was full of various things: different dinner ideas to try out on the menu for a special, addresses, phone numbers, and other journal entries. he's made a habit of journal three times a week and he has a feeling he's going to be doing it a lot more with Y/N joining the team.
-
I could eat that girl for lunch. She smelled sweet like fuckin brownies or something, rich and delicious. Her tattoos, her gold necklaces, her smile, her skirt. I feel like a perv but god i know her skin would be so soft, and she'd have the best blind reactions to recipes, and i bet she'd taste good too. I'm closing the applications, this Y/N chick is gonna be the death of me.
-
"Hi Y/N, this is Carmen from The Bear, how're you?" he couldn't even wait a full 24 hours before he hired her. Embarrassing. "I just wanted to call and let you know that we're offering you the job if you are still interested." He bit the cap of his pen with a grin hearing her cheer and laugh on the other side of the phone. "Yea- yeah that's great, listen could you start Monday? I'll get you trained n'all that."
Carmen ends the phone call and moves some papers around on his desk, printing the papers for Y/N and putting them in her folder. He couldn’t stop grinning like a kid from hearing her excited voice over the phone.
Instantly he’s thinking of a million things to write in his journal about her. But he doesn’t have time, he needs to prep the special for tonights dinner service before anything else. Carmen will be thinking of her, however. Thinking of how soft her hands must be, or how sweet her chapstick tastes. He'll think of how it'll be nice to have her around, not just the help but to have someone with a softer tone around the place, too.
He thinks about Y/N while making glaze, mixing everything together to get that perfect spicy honey taste, he's imagining how her face lights up when she laughs. He doesn't even really know her yet but he's already making up what a first date would be like. He'd take her out for coffee, go see a movie, then go for a walk. But not too late, though. Even if she might be a night owl it's still inappropriate to keep a girl out past ten, at least that's what he read in some magazine a long time ago.
"Chef you ready to prep the team for tonight?" Sydney asked, interrupting his thoughts. He stumbled, dropping the spoon into the bowl and biting his tongue.
"Fuck- yeah, yeah I am."
-
"'M gonna go over the menu with you, if m'goin too fast then stop me." He pulls up a chair and tucks his hair behind his ears. Setting the laminated piece of paper in front of her, explaining each dish to her in firm detail. Carmen watches as her french tip acrylic nails trace along the menu, guiding along the words that he says from memory.
She's impressed, shocked even that he came up with this himself. She jokes that she can't cook and it gains a laugh from him.
"I'll teach you a few things, if ya want." He didn't mean for it to come out sounding like he was hitting on her...but secretly he was. Since when was he that slick with words?
-
I can't stop thinking about her. She's on my mind all the fuckin' time. She smelled really good, must have been her shampoo. I would love to just sit with her there, not sexually. Just be. I bet she's really calm and chill. I'd love to get ready with her in the mornings, again not sexually. To spend time, to laugh, to talk. I could eat that girl for lunch.
-
When Carmen walks into the front he catches Y/N taking pictures in the mirror by the entrance. He chuckles, watching her pose and smile. She turns around and gasps, cheeks getting darker when she realizes she's gotten caught.
"Sorry, the mirror is just so aesthetic."
"That? Um, okay? Guess we have different opinions of what aesthetic is." Carmen guides her to the back counter, teaching her how to count inventory of everything.
He feels out of place- no, he feels gross when he watches her bend down. He sees a peek of white lace stick out from the band of her jeans and he knows he shouldn't stare, but he can't help his mind from wandering. He wanders about what other types of underwear she might have, if she has any special ones, what they'd feel like wrapped-
"Carmen!" Sydney snaps him out of his daydream. "Sorry to interrupt, but you have a phone call from the AC guy." He's pulled away, for the better, but he knows he's going to write about this as soon as he gets the chance.
-
I'm interested in more than just being her boss. I could eat her alive, i'd let her take a seat on me wherever she wants for however long she wants. She'd taste like....like sweet watermelons on a sunny summer day. Yeah, something like that. She can't be real can she? I don't know how long I can keep acting professional. I just know she'd be the one for me.
・。♡.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・。. ♡・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜♡・。
feedback | masterlist
#j's writing#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto smut#the bear imagine#the bear x reader
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ʀᴇʙᴇʟ ꜱᴜɴ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
this is part three. for part two, click here!
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)
word count: 4.5k
summary: rafe brings you breakfast and problems arise
warnings: dead dove, do not eat. stalker!rafe, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, manipulation. use of the word 'bitch'. rafe is trying but he's still a freak, mention of drugs
a note: i'm so pissed about episode 10 btw
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
Two hundred and eighty-nine days.
You’ve been going through something.
It’s been 289 days since Rafe decided to keep you, to hide you away in his room like a little doll, to keep you on his shelf just for his eyes only. You were so resistant at first, always crying and squirming while he tied you to his bed, always trying to fight back. He tried everything he could think of to calm you down; asking nicely, trying to hold you, pinning you down and covering your mouth. The only thing that ever worked was cocaine, holding you down and rubbing it all over your gums. You were his little druggie, and he was smitten. For a while.
For the past few weeks, Rafe has been slowly trying to ween you off of it. You were getting too addicted, too addicted to something that wasn’t him. As much as he loved you, he didn’t like wasting his cocaine on you just to get you to calm down. He wanted things to be different. He wanted you to enjoy being with him in his big, beautiful house in Figure 8, a far cry from your modest childhood home in The Cut. He didn’t want to hold you here anymore, against your will, he wanted you to willingly be his. Rafe was a strong, powerful, handsome, rich man. Why were you resisting? Is he not good enough for you? Is there something wrong with him? Is he not what you want, what you need?
The cold metal of the handcuffs bite at your skin as you squirm, tied up to the headboard. Although you spent most of your time tied up on your side of the bed, he moved you around a lot; keeping you on the floor underneath his desk as he worked, leaving you on the bathroom floor after you’ve been particularly resistant, and even keeping you under his bed when the police first came knocking after you “disappeared”. People were looking for you, JJ and John B especially, but they would never find you. Rafe would make sure of it.
He let you up once, watching you with a sharp eye as you padded around his bedroom, stretching your legs out, your arms still bound. You spent your limited time standing in front of the window, looking outside, daydreaming about the day you finally get to go home. You were only free for 10 minutes before Rafe got nervous, picking you up and throwing you on the bed, squishing you with his body weight as you squirmed and wiggled.
Sunlight pours in through the windows, the curtains moving slowly with the fresh spring air. You haven’t been outside since last September, and now as July creeps up, you’re not sure if you’ll ever get out of Rafe’s room. The last 289 days have all felt like a blur, one second it was Halloween, the next second it's Christmas and Rafe is opening your gift for you as you sob, scream, and beg him for mercy. His present to you was a gold necklace spelling out Rafe, as well as a matching gold ring. You screamed and cried and tried to bite him as he put the necklace on, but it didn’t deter Rafe. He jotted all of your misbehaviour down to withdrawals, and he would pack you full of drugs to keep you pliant, satiated, and quiet. He’s never been more happy to not have neighbours.
His punishment was enough to convince you to keep the necklace on. You spent two days locked in the bathroom, stuck in the bathtub, arms and legs tied behind your back. You sobbed when you saw him, mostly out of relief, and you screamed and begged for him to forgive you. He thought you looked so cute like that, your eyes red, tears streaming down your cheeks, and he forgave you very easily.
The door softly opens as Rafe steps through, carrying a TV tray packed full of breakfast. Rafe wasn’t the best cook, but he was trying to learn, just for you. After all, he couldn’t hire a private chef if his unwilling girlfriend was tied up upstairs. He smiles at you, carrying the tray over and setting it down on his side of the bed, smoothing down the duvet. “Mornin’, angel. You hungry?”
“Fuck off.” You say, shooting him a glare before looking away from him.
Oh, he hates when you do this. When you glare at him like he’s the worst person alive. When you keep silent, refusing to even look at him. It drives him crazy. Why doesn’t his angel love him, why doesn’t his angel want him? What is he doing wrong? He sighs, giving you a disapproving look. “That wasn’t very polite, angel, and I was trying to do something nice for you.” He takes a seat on the bed, grabbing the tray and setting it in between the two of you.
“I’m not hungry.” You say, although it’s a lie. You rejected his lunch and dinner offerings the night before, and the French toast in front of you smelled so fucking good.
He lets out a breathy laugh. “Now, don’t lie to me, baby. I know you’re hungry. I know you’ve been starving yourself, tryna prove you’re all big and strong, but I’m not gonna let you do that.” He pushes the tray closer to you. “Aren’t you tired of being all stubborn and difficult? I just want to take care of you.”
“I want to go home, Rafe.” You say.
“You are home, baby.” He says, his eyes hard, although there was some hurt behind his tone. He hated your constant cries to go home, hated hearing you ask for the outside world when all he wanted was to keep you here, to keep you safe and to keep you his. “Why do you want to leave so badly? You’ll be safer here, you don’t have to worry about anything ever again.” In Rafe’s eyes, he saved you, and he wanted you to save your soul for the devil in him.
“You can’t just kidnap me and expect me to be okay with it!” You say, your voice wavering as you start to cry again. “I won’t cling to you like some love-blind addict.”
His eyes soften a little when you cry, his heart beating a little bit faster at the look on your face. God, he just wanted you to love him. He didn’t know why he was being so stubborn, why he couldn’t just force you like he normally would. He bites his tongue, trying not to say anything too harsh. “I don’t want you to cling to me like some love-blind addict. I want you to love me because you want to, not because you have to.”
“You can’t kidnap me and expect me to be okay with it.” You say again.
“Well, I have, and you’re still here, aren’t you?” He says, his jaw tight, trying to keep himself calm. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, but you’re still not happy. What else do you want from me, angel?”
“I just want to go home!” You say, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.
He scoffs, his words coming out harsh and fast. He’s starting to get annoyed with your attitude. “You are home, you selfish little brat. I’m trying to keep you safe, all I do is try to protect you, and you keep acting like this, like I’m the bad guy!” Rafe scoots closer to you on the bed, putting the TV tray closer to your legs. “Now, you’re going to eat your breakfast like a good little bitch, and then you’re going to thank me after. Are we clear?”
You hesitate, sniffling as the tears travel down your cheeks onto your neck. He sighs watching you cry. God, he hated seeing you cry. He hated how desperate you looked, how beautiful you looked. He was just trying to keep you safe and happy, trying to keep you his. He reaches up towards you, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “I asked you a question, angel. Are. We. Clear?”
You nod. You were starving, and Rafe was even nice enough to bring you your favourite coffee. You should just say yes and try to get on his good side. “Yeah. We’re clear.”
Rafe’s eyes soften when you agree, finally giving in. He liked it when you listened to him, when you were calm and sweet and obedient. He brushes under your eyes with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears. He doesn’t miss how beautiful you look when you cry. “Good girl.” he murmurs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead. You always look your prettiest when you’re obedient.
You hate the way it makes your heart flutter. Shame is sharp, and your skin gives in so easily.
He uncuffs your ankles, letting you sit up and get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be. Your arms were still being painfully yanked, tied up onto the headboard, but at least you weren’t laying down anymore. “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and eat your breakfast?” He asks, glancing down at the food.
You nod, trying to get more comfortable. He watches as you shift and squirm, biting the inside of his cheek. He hated that you were still tied up. He hated having you like this. He wanted you to be free, to walk around, to be able to do what you want to do, but he didn’t trust you not to run away yet. He didn’t want to keep you tied up forever. Rafe sighs, taking the mug of coffee and handing it to you. “Here, baby, drink some coffee first.”
You carefully take a sip, trying to not burn your mouth. He smiles a little, watching you sip on your coffee happily. You’re doing so good so far this morning. Not so much crying, no screaming, no begging, just a little hiccup in the beginning. He liked this; liked seeing you docile and quiet. “Good?” He asks, tilting his head at you.
You nod, licking your lips. You were a bit surprised that Rafe remembered your coffee order. “Yeah. Really good. Thank you.”
He’s a bit shocked when you thank him, his heart hammering a little bit faster and his chest warming. “Yeah? You’re welcome, angel,” He feels himself smile, his hand twitching a little, wanting to reach out and caress your cheek, touch your hair. He forces himself to stay where he is. You take another sip of the coffee. He continues to watch you, feeling his chest warm again. He was always a bit thrown off whenever you thanked him, because it didn’t happen often. That was his fault, he knew that. He was always taking you against your will, having to force you into things. “Keep drinking your coffee, baby.” He says softly, wanting to keep you calm and quiet.
You finish the coffee and Rafe sets the mug aside on your bedside table. He shifts around, sitting cross-legged as he cuts up a piece of French toast. Your mouth waters as you sit up straighter. “Did you use the--”
“The brown sugar maple syrup?” He smirks. “Yes, angel, I did,” He stabs a piece with the fork before bringing it up to your mouth, one hand cupped underneath to catch any crumbs. “Say ahh.”
You eagerly open your mouth, closing your lips around the fork and pulling the piece into your mouth. It’s delicious, and you lean your head back against the headboard as you chew, eyes closed.
He feels his heart skip a beat when you lean your head back. God, you looked so perfect. So goddamn pretty. He could stare at you forever. “Good?” He asks, his gaze lingering on your throat as you swallow. He wanted to bite you, mark you up as his. But he had to be patient. You didn’t fully trust him yet, and he was eager to break you.
You nod, opening your eyes. “Really good.”
He smiles, leaning forward and wiping a little maple syrup off your lips. He lets his hand linger on your face, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss you, but he didn’t want to ruin this. He didn’t want to ruin how good you were being. “Good. I’m glad you like it, angel,” He moves his attention to the small ramekin of fruit, stabbing a couple pieces. “Alright. This one next.”
You accept the fruit, eyeing up the rest of the TV tray. You swallow, shifting again. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Rafe.”
He knows he didn’t have to. He knows that he could’ve just given you shitty breakfast sausages and an apple and called it a day, but he wanted to make you feel good, wanted to make you trust him more. He hated that the only time you were sweet and quiet was when you were hopped up on drugs. He wanted you sweet and quiet without the drugs, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you. “I know I didn’t have to, angel. I just wanted to.”
You eat some more of the fruit. “Well… thank you.”
He feels himself smile again, your quiet gratitude still throwing him a bit off kilter. Why did you have to be so goddamn cute, making him feel all soft? He could imagine what it would be like if you were willingly with him, letting him dote on you the way he wanted. He would cook you food every morning, give you gifts, hold you in his arms every night. It would be so perfect, if only you would just be a good girl and submit. “You’re welcome, baby.”
You finish the rest of your breakfast in silence, leaning into his hand as he wipes your mouth for you. You shouldn’t be doing this, willing leaning towards your stalker, but… you can’t deny how nice it feels for him to be kind to you. For him to not be screaming at you, holding you down while you cry, drugging you into submission. But if you wanted to get out, you had to play the long game. You had to get him to trust you enough so he would uncuff you, and then you had to wait for the perfect opportunity to run.
He watches you finish your breakfast, watching you lean into his hand when he wiped your mouth. His gaze lingered on your lips for as long as he could manage, feeling himself want to kiss you. You were doing so good, you were sitting so pretty and being so sweet and quiet. He wanted you like this all the time, wanted you to be his good little girl and obey him all the time. But he knew it would take time, it would take weeks to break you.
Rafe piles the dishes high on the TV tray, setting it aside. You lick your lips, shifting on the bed again. Your arms were killing you, pulled tight behind your back, your shoulders aching. Maybe if you were good, he would uncuff you. You take a deep breath before speaking, “Any plans today?”
He notices your discomfort right away, but he didn’t want to risk untying you when you could run away. But you had been so good this morning, he would hate to ruin it. He glances over at you before standing, the TV tray balancing in his hands. “I have a few meetings with my attorney today, but other than that, I was gonna hang around here.”
You nod. This might be harder than you thought. “Attorney?”
“Yeah,” He tilts his head at you, watching you for a moment. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he couldn’t exactly have his attorney come over and risk spotting you. “I’ve got some stuff… going on with my dad’s estate and life insurance stuff. I’ve got to talk to the attorney about legal stuff.”
Oh. Right. You remember the day Ward died, how the entire island seemed to come to a screeching halt, rumours starting to spread of the Kook Prince’s breakdown. You had felt bad for him back then, back before he kidnapped you. Now, you didn’t feel as bad, but you needed to lie your way into getting out of his stupid house. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says. “It’s not your fault. Kinda glad that fucker is gone anyway.” He sighs, picking the TV tray up and standing. “I’ll be out for a few hours, though. Appointments at 3:30.”
You nod, watching as he heads out of the bedroom, stomping down the stairs. You let out a shaky breath. Rafe’s nice guy act was just that, an act, as fake as the lifestyle he lives and the image he portrays. You were being punished, by Rafe and the universe, punished for being stupid and naive enough to think that you were special, that he would treat you any differently than he treats the others. No matter what he said, you knew deep down that he didn’t love you. He just wanted to get you weak, groggy, and docile so he could take off your clothes and hurt you. If you gave in, he would just hurt and abuse you until he got bored. He would tare off chunks of you to eat before you were nothing but bones.
You hear him moving around downstairs, putting the dishes in the sink before opening the fridge. You wonder what he’s doing, what he’s getting up to when you can’t see him. You can’t help it. You squirm on the bed as you hear him heading up the stairs again, looking over at the door as he enters.
He smiles softly when he sees you, his little bride, his sweet divine. “You’re squirming again, angel.”
“The handcuffs hurt,” You say.
Rafe sighs, chewing the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want you to run, but he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. You would have a much harder time submitting to him if your wrists were permanently rubbed raw. He pulls the key off of his neck, looped through an old necklace chain. “Lean forward, baby,” You lean forward, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he unlocks one wrist. He quickly pulls it away from the headboard before reattaching it to your wrist. You were still bound, still his, but he was hoping this would help you finally give in. “There we go. Is that better?”
You nod, relaxing your shoulders. It was still uncomfortable to have your hands behind your back, but this was light-years ahead of being trapped in his bed. “Much better.”
“You didn’t try to run.” He says.
You didn’t have time to run. “No, I didn’t.”
He tugs you closer to the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He presses your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “Good girl.” Your head spins. He smells so good, and he’s so warm, and fuck you missed being held. You lean against his chest, burying your face into his sternum. He kisses your head again before stroking your hair, one arm tight around your shoulders.
Rafe opens his mouth to speak when there’s a sudden pounding on the front door. Your breath hitches and your stomach drops. You look at him, at the confusion streaking across his handsome face. “Who is it?”
He clenches his jaw, his hands forming into fists and flexing. He walks over to the window, peeking through the curtain, looking down at the driveway.
Shit.
A Kildare County Sheriff’s Department squad car sits in his driveway, and he watches as two officers climb out, a thick manilla envelope in hand. Fuck. Fuck. “Stay here, baby,” He says, watching you as he walks back towards the door. “Just stay quiet, and I’ll take care of it, okay?”
You watch helplessly as he heads out of the room, stomping down the stairs.
He walks down the stairs, opening the front door to confront the cops. “Officers,” he says smoothly, holding back the dread that was growing in his chest. “How can I help you today?”
The officer on the left, L. Hughes according to his name tag, speaks first. “Mr. Cameron?”
“Yes. That’s me,” He says, forcing a smile on his face as he leans against the door frame. “May I ask what this is about, officer?”
Hughes starts to open the envelope. “We’re just doing some rounds, sir. Handin’ these out,” he pulls out a large stack of 8 by 11s. He takes a sheet off the top and hands it to Rafe. “Do you know this girl?”
Rafe takes the paper before looking down at it. His fingers clench, his grip tightening. It’s a missing flyer for you, your smiling face staring at him. It had all of your info; name, age, height and weight, as well as the day you were last seen in Kildare, September 18th. The bottom of the flyer has the Sheriff’s Department phone number and email. Did Peterkin rat him out?
“No, I uh…” Rafe clears his throat. “Don’t recognise her. Sorry, guys.”
“She’s uh… from The Cut,” The officer on the right, J. Patrick, says. “Do you know anyone down there who’s uh… particularly violent?”
Rafe’s grip tightens. He could easily point them in the direction of JJ and John B, hell, maybe even Pope would go down too. “I mean, a few of ‘em, yeah. They can get pretty aggressive. Thought she’s just missin’, though.”
“We’re hoping that’s the case,” Hughes says. “But you know… it’s been 9 months since she disappeared. People are starting to talk, rumours about this girl gettin’ killed. You sure you don’t recognise her?”
They know something. He’s sure of it. Rafe looks at the flyer again. “Nah, I don’t recognise her. I don’t really get to that side of the island very much.”
“Well, the thing is, Mr. Cameron,” Patrick says. “Is that we got an anonymous tip. They said that they were up here not too long ago, and they saw someone that looked a lot like her in your upstairs window. We’re just here to check it out.”
Rafe’s blood runs cold. What the hell? Peterkin didn’t rat him out, did she? He swallows thickly, clenching his jaw. “Alright, come on in then, but I guarantee you there’s nobody in the house but me.”
Fuck. Fuck. His plan was falling apart right before his eyes. He was just starting to break you down, and now you were going to be ripped away from him. He steps aside and lets the officers in, setting your missing person flyer on the table. He leads them upstairs, hands clenched tightly in a fist, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want to lose you, he didn’t want the officers to even see you, his little rebel laying in the sun.
You’re still on the edge of the bed, listening. You stand up when you hear the officers coming, the beeps of their radios sounding so incredibly loud. Your legs shake as you stand in the middle of the room, frozen in place, clad in only one of Rafe’s t-shirts and a pair of panties.
You could escape. You could get out of here. You could go home, back to your family, back to JJ, John B, and Pope. You would be able to sleep in your own bed, and take a shower without having Rafe holding you, washing your body and hair for you as you cried and sobbed.
You could be free.
But you can’t do it. You don’t want to leave Rafe, and you don’t know why. He kidnapped you, kept you full of cocaine and benzos to keep you quiet and asleep your first few months here. He was hurting you, using you as a little pawn in his game. But you didn’t want to leave him. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you couldn’t leave him behind when he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world for him.
Is he the one? Is he everything you’ve ever wanted?
Will you regret this?
The doorknob twists, and you suddenly crawl under the bed, the bed skirt cascading down the side to cover you.
The officers look around the room. Hughes takes a few glances around, Patrick’s back facing where you are, hiding underneath the bed. They look everywhere but underneath the bed, and Rafe’s heart pounds in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. Why were they here? Why were they doing this?
Rafe had to stay calm. He can’t lose you, he can’t. “See? Told you, it’s just me here.”
“Alright,” Hughes sighs. “Guess it was just a mistake. Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Cameron.” Their voices fade as they leave the room, and you lay under the bed, paralysed with fear. But was it because of Rafe, or because of the officers?
He walks them downstairs, saying goodbye before shutting and locking the door. He quickly heads back upstairs, watching through the window as the squad car drives away. He looks out the window again before walking over to the bed, kneeling down. “Come out, angel.”
He lifts the bed skirt as you crawl out, body shaking. “Are they gone?”
He reaches out, grabbing your shoulders and hoisting you up. “Yeah. They’re gone, baby.” He sighs, cupping your face. “You did so good hiding like that.”
You lean into his calloused palms. “Thank you.”
He feels his heart flutter when you lean into his hands, his fingers tracing over the smooth skin of your cheek and jaw. “You’re such a good girl, angel. I’m so proud of you.” He pulls you close, kissing your forehead.
You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think I wanna leave.”
Those words almost stop his heart, tears welling in his eyes. He’s wanted this, for you to admit that you wanted to stay with him, that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. “You-You want to stay?” He can’t help how small his voice sounds, the vulnerability leaking out of it.
You nod, burying your face in his shoulder.
He’s speechless, so shocked that this is actually happening, that he’s finally got what he’s been wanting this whole time. He doesn’t hesitate to snake his arms around you, holding you close and burying his face in your hair, his breathing shaky. “You’re serious, angel? You don’t want to leave? You want to stay with me?”
You nod again. “Yeah, Rafey.”
He loves when you call him that, a whine of pleasure building in his throat. He nuzzles his face in your neck, kissing you sweetly. “Oh god, baby. You can’t imagine how happy that makes me. Thank you, baby, thank you so much. I’ve been trying so hard for so long, thank you.” He murmurs against your skin, his heart feeling light and happy, like he could finally breathe.
You knew you were betting on a losing dog. You would never make it out of this house, but maybe you could live with that.
Rafe would always find you anyway.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
this will be the last part, but i have more rafe fics on the way!
★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife, @magicalflowerstranger (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)
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#keikiwrites#f!reader#obx#obx fic#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe fic#rafe obx#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#obx rafe#outer banks#outer banks fic#outer banks rafe#outer banks rafe cameron#tw: kidnapping#tw: stalking
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𐙚 ˚A ' Chris ' Mas Mayhem 𐙚 ˚
𐙚 ˚Pairing - Bang Chan × Fem Reader
𐙚 ˚Plot - YN returns to Seoul after three years, leaving behind her boyfriend for a work project, and finally gets transferred back just before Christmas. Excited to reunite, she decides to move into her boyfriend’s place, only to discover it isn’t his house at all. To make matters worse, she learns her Christmas gifts have been going to the wrong address all along—leading to an unexpected twist.
𐙚 ˚Genre - Angst, Hurt, Healing,Comedy, Fluff
𐙚 ˚Warnings - Hurt, betrayal, breakup, neighbor au, non Idol au, healing, comfort, Strangers to lovers
𐙚 ˚Word count - 8.7 K 𐙚 ˚ Screenshot Count - 2
𐙚 ˚A/N - Ahh! I'm so excited to share the first episode of Staymas! Dive into this fun mix of Christmas gifts, neighborly banter, and the spark of something deeper. This is just Slight proofread. So apologies for any mistakes 🙂↕️
𐙚 ˚SKZ Masterlist 𐙚 ˚Staymas Masterlist
It was a quiet winter afternoon in Seoul. The capital city, once blanketed in snow just weeks ago, had now settled into the crisp, dry embrace of December air.
The crunch of the remaining snow under your boots brought you back to the present as you stepped out of the taxi. You were home. After three years of relentless overtime, endless meetings, and the nonstop pace of Tokyo, you were finally back in Seoul. Back to the city you had always called home.
Your overseas transfer to Tokyo had been your first project as a lead. While life in Tokyo matched the speed and intensity of Seoul, you missed your home; and, more than anything, you missed your boyfriend, Chris Han.
You had just started dating Chris four years ago after a chance meeting at a club. He had been everything you could hope for: caring, attentive, and loving.
But things took a turn when you mentioned your transfer, barely a year into your relationship. He resisted the idea vehemently, arguing that long-distance relationships never worked. But this was your dream project, and you were determined.
Reluctantly, he agreed, and you left with tears in your eyes, clinging to the hope that distance would strengthen your bond.
At first, it did. Video calls became your lifeline, and you were grateful for his support despite the miles between you. Each Christmas, you went out of your way to send him thoughtful gifts: hand-knit sweaters, heartfelt letters, and cookies you baked yourself. You imagined him opening them, smiling, and feeling less alone.
But as time passed, the calls became less frequent, and the distance began to weigh on you. Yet, your heart remained steadfast, filled with love for Chris. Now that you were back, you couldn't wait to celebrate your first Christmas together in years.
-----------------------------------------------------
Standing in front of the apartment building, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing nerves. You had gone to great lengths to make this moment a reality, even renting an apartment in the same building as his, though he had no idea yet. This was meant to be a surprise, something special that would bring you closer in a way he wouldn’t expect.
Unbeknownst to him, you'd taken the opportunity to secure a place in the very same building, arranging everything during a video call with the tenant. You had even wired some advance money to her, securing the apartment without him ever suspecting a thing.
The elevator doors opened on your desired floor, and you stepped out, the faint hum of the building filling the quiet space around you. The tenant, the one you had finalized everything with, was waiting for you to complete the paperwork.
She smiled warmly, gesturing for you to come inside. As you hesitated in the hallway, your eyes darted nervously around, scanning for any familiar faces. You didn’t want to risk your boyfriend finding out about your arrival just yet, so you made sure to move cautiously, stepping inside and out of sight, ready to finalize this surprise and begin a new chapter.
You signed the last documents, handed over the remaining deposit, and took the keys to your new home. The apartment, though sparse, felt cozy and warm, just as it had seemed in the calls. After a quick shower, you put on the sweater Chris had once gifted you, applied light makeup, and prepared for the moment you’d been waiting for.
Clutching a box of homemade chocolate chip cookies, your heart pounded as you approached apartment 504- Chris's place. Smoothing your scarf, you knocked on the door, excitement bubbling inside you.
You pictured the scene perfectly: Chris opening the door, stunned, before pulling you into his arms with a cheesy line like, "I can't believe you're mine forever now." The two of you would share cookies, cuddle, and watch movies like you used to. It was the perfect surprise.
But when the door opened, it wasn’t Chris who greeted you....
“Uh, hi?” The man at the door blinked at you, clearly confused. He was tall, with soft, dark hair that framed his strikingly sharp features. He looked effortlessly attractive, dressed in casual sweatpants and a hoodie, as if he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot.
You froze, your brain scrambling to make sense of the situation.
“Is Chris here?” you asked hesitantly.
The man tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah… Who’s asking?”
“I’m Y/N, his girlfriend,” you replied nervously. “He lives here, right? Apartment 504?”
The man blinked at you, his confusion deepening. “M-My girlfriend? Sorry, but… do I know you?”
Your stomach tightened in a knot as you stared at him. Maybe Chris Han hadn’t told his friends about your relationship. Or maybe this guy was some distant relative visiting. But wait, he said “My girlfriend?” That didn’t make any sense, you thought. Chris Han was your boyfriend, not this stranger standing in front of you with a perplexed look on his face.
The silence between you both was deafening as you locked eyes. You couldn’t help but admire his features again. This guy was effortlessly handsome in a way that felt almost unfair. His eyes glinted with amusement as he studied you just as you did him. His skin, with a warm golden undertone, glowed faintly in the soft light spilling from the apartment. His jawline was sharp and defined, like a sculptor’s dream, and his high cheekbones gave his face an almost regal quality.
The air hung thick, suffocating in its silence. Yet, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, just as he couldn’t from you. It felt like something needed to break the tension before you’d be trapped in this awkward loop forever.
“Yo, Chris?” a voice called from inside. “What’s got you so caught up?”
The stranger snapped out of his thoughts and suddenly burst into laughter. Embarrassed by the situation, you stepped back, ready to leave.
“Wait, wait,” he said, holding up a hand to stop you. “You think I’m your boyfriend?” He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not. I’m Chris Bang. And unless I’ve somehow gotten into a relationship I didn’t know about, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”
Your cheeks burned red with embarrassment. “What?! But… this is apartment 504! Doesn’t Chris live here?”
“Yeah,” Chris Bang said, nodding. “That’s me. Chris Bang. Single. Not your boyfriend.”
The realization hit you like a freight train. “Oh my god,” you mumbled, backing away. “I… this is so...this is a mistake. I’m so sorry!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Chris called after you, laughing as you turned to flee. “Don’t run away yet! I want to know how this happened. Did you just knock on the wrong door, or did your boyfriend ghost you and give you my address instead?”
You whipped back around, glaring at him. “He did not ghost me! I—” You froze in confusion. Wait. If this wasn’t Chris Han’s apartment, then where…?
Chris Bang watched as the realization painfully dawned on you. “Wait… are you the new neighbor who moved into apartment 404?”
“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice filled with regret. “Apparently, across from you.”
“Well, this is going to be fun,” Chris said, clearly enjoying your humiliation. Before you could respond, the elevator dinged down the hall, and a door opened just a floor above yours. Stepping out of apartment 604 was Chris Han—your boyfriend.
A wave of relief washed over your face. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach again as you watched him approach the elevator. “Babe!” you called out, waving, while simultaneously giving your new namesake neighbor an apology. Chris Bang just smiled and waved it off, closing the door behind him.
“Chris, babe!” you called again, louder this time. At the sound of your voice, Chris Han looked down, his eyes widening in surprise as they landed on you.
“Y/N?” Chris Han called out, his voice thick with confusion. His steps were hesitant as he descended the stairs toward you.
“Chris, babe, surprise!” Your smile widened as he stepped closer to you. You opened your arms, eager to embrace him, hoping he’d pull you into his warm, comforting hug. But he didn’t. Instead of the excitement you’d expected, his gaze remained distant—cold, even. “You’re here?” he asked, his voice stiff. “When did you come back?”
“Just this morning! I wanted to surprise you!” you chirped, trying to break the palpable tension. “And guess what? I even rented an apartment here. So we’re neighbors now!” You pointed toward your apartment door with a nervous smile. “Maybe just a floor apart,” you added, awkwardly scratching your head.
“You rented… an apartment? Here?” Chris’s voice was flat, lacking the warmth you had expected.
“Yeah,” you said softly, feeling your heart sink. “I missed you, Chris. Three years is a long time, and I thought… Well, I thought it was time for us to be close again.”
“And this thought occurred to you… after three years?” Chris’s gaze was sharp, colder than you had ever seen it, and it hit you like a physical blow to the chest.
“Well, the project finally wrapped up, and now I’m back...to you. Won’t you welcome me?” Though your voice lacked some of the earlier enthusiasm, there was still hope in your words.
“You know what? Let’s talk inside.” Chris sighed heavily. “It doesn’t feel right to say this in a public space.” Nodding, you followed him upstairs, your chest tightening with each step.
-----------------------------------------------------
You stepped into Chris’s apartment, quickly glancing around. The place was neat, but it felt cold, uninviting. It wasn’t the home you had envisioned for the two of you. It looked more like a temporary crash pad than a place filled with warmth and love. There wasn’t a single Christmas decoration in sight, not even with Christmas Eve just two days away. The only decoration was a solitary string of fairy lights on a corner shelf.
“Oh, you didn’t decorate for Christmas?” you asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. Chris shrugged. “Haven’t had the time. Last-minute work before the holidays has been crazy.”
“Maybe we can decorate it together?” you suggested, forcing a smile.
Chris let out a long, weary sigh before turning back to you. “Look, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this, but it didn’t feel right to say it over the phone. Now that you’re here, I think it’s best we just move on.” He paused. “From us.”
You stared at him, stunned. “So… you’re breaking up with me? Two days before our anniversary? After three years of making it work long distance?” Your voice cracked with rage as you glared at him.
He hesitated again, his voice soft but sharp, like daggers to your heart. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry, but I think… maybe we’ve been holding on to something that’s not really there anymore. I’m sorry, but… this… us… it can’t work anymore.”
The ground beneath you shook violently as you absorbed the words spilling from Chris’s mouth. Everything you had planned, everything you had believed, crumbled in an instant. After a long stretch of silence, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding back.
Chris stared at you, uncertain, hesitant about what to say next.
"I thought you loved me..." you whispered, your voice trembling, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Chris stood before you, his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to meet your eyes. The silence between you was suffocating, each second stretching endlessly.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” he finally said, his voice low and thick with regret. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You stood there, frozen in place, the words echoing in your mind like a cruel mockery. The sting of betrayal tightened in your chest, making it hard to breathe. Your hands clenched at your sides as you fought back the tears threatening to spill.
Finally, a bitter laugh escaped your lips, cold and sharp like shattered glass. “Thank you, Chris. Thank you for ruining everything.” Your voice broke, and your chest ached from the weight of your own words. You took a shaky step back, your vision blurring.
You added, with venom laced in your tone, “Merry fucking Christmas.”
Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked back toward your apartment. As you passed Chris Bang’s door, it suddenly opened, startling you. He looked at you with an expression mixed with concern and curiosity.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer this time.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you pushed past him and into your own apartment. The warmth that had once filled the space now felt distant, as if the walls were closing in on you. The contrast between how it had felt just an hour ago and the suffocating coldness now was striking. Closing the door behind you, you sank to the floor, beside the doorframe, tears streaming down your face.
----------------------------------------------------
December 24th
Two days later, it was Christmas Eve. You hadn’t yet moved on from that painful conversation with Chris. Determined to fix things, you decided to meet him later. One awkward conversation wasn’t going to be the end of everything. Maybe you could work through it. Maybe everything would be okay after this.
You hit send on the message, asking him to meet you at 8 in the evening at his favorite restaurant. He agreed, and you smiled at your phone, slipping it back into your pocket.
Since you were meeting him at 8,three hours after your shift ended, you decided to treat yourself to a little coffee at the cozy cafe beside your new apartment. It wasn’t long before you were settled inside, the warmth inside a welcome contrast to the biting winter wind outside. Ordering a cappuccino, you took a seat by the window, sipping your drink as you stared out at the wind-whipped scene.
Not long after, something caught your eye. Across the cafe, a familiar silhouette of a man and a woman sat at a table just a little farther away. You squinted, just to be sure.
And there he was—Chris Han—feeding an unknown woman a piece of cake. The woman, with long brown hair, blushed and laughed at something Chris must have said. They looked so comfortable with each other, so intimate, and Chris smiled at her with the same warmth he used to smile at you three years ago. And then they kissed.
Kissed ?!!
A sharp pang of betrayal struck your gut. Your mouth hung open in shock. Rage boiled inside you, and before you could stop it, your legs carried you over to their table.
"So this is why you decided to move on, huh?" you called, standing at the edge of their table.
"Y/N?!" Chris exclaimed, clearly caught off guard. "What are you doing here?"
"Me?" you scoffed. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’m just waiting to meet my boyfriend after his shift to fix things."
"And look what I find! He’s here all along, kissing and feeding cake to another woman, like the past three years meant nothing to you." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Chris, who is this?" The woman looked awkwardly between the two of you.
Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Y/N, now’s not the time."
"Not the time?" you trembled. "So, this is why you said ‘it’s not going to work,’ is it?"
"You were cheating on me all along, and now that I’m back, you’re too scared to admit it. So, you fake this 'it’s not going to work' nonsense!"
"This is the reason I told you long-distance doesn’t work for me, Y/N. But you didn’t listen to me back then!" Chris shot back.
"Our relationship meant nothing to you, did it? I was just a fool, believing our love was still alive!" you spat bitterly.
Chris sighed again, looking at you with something that resembled pity. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want it to happen like this, but… I’ve moved on. " " I told you my answer remains the same"
"Unbelievable!" you blinked back tears, refusing to let him see you cry. "I hope she’s worth it," you said coldly, turning on your heel and storming out of the cafe.
You clung to your jacket as you waited for the elevator, feeling the weight of the evening pressing on you. It was uncomfortably cold in the lobby. Maybe it was because of what had just happened—that the warmth and hope you once carried for a fresh start had been snuffed out, leaving you broken and alone.
Just as you were about to step into the elevator, a voice called out, "Hey, wait for me!" You looked up to see Chris Bang rushing toward the elevator. Quickly, you wedged your hand between the doors to stop them from closing as he hopped in.
"Thank you," he panted, taking deep breaths to steady himself after running. You nodded, acknowledging him silently. You just wanted to be alone, but the elevator seemed to take forever to reach your floor. The tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill as you replayed everything that had happened. Was it your fault? Could you have prevented it? If you hadn’t taken on the new project, if you hadn’t been transferred… maybe this wouldn’t have happened...
These thoughts clouded your mind as the elevator slowly ascended. When it finally reached your floor, you stepped out, your head still in a daze.
"YN, is it?" Chris suddenly asked. You nodded, barely meeting his gaze.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
You realized you must look like a mess,your mascara smudged, your hair disheveled, your eyes red from holding back tears. You sighed and gave a shaky laugh. "Not really."
Chris tilted his head, his sharp features softening. "Wanna talk about it? I’ve got cookies, and I promise I don’t feed cake to random people in cafes." He smiled, his warmth surprising you.
You blinked, taken aback. How did he know? But he wasn’t teasing you. There was no smug grin or sarcastic quip, just sincerity.
"Cookies?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.
Chris smiled, a soft, lopsided grin that felt genuine. "Yeah, cookies. And hot chocolate. The perfect cure for whatever mess you just walked away from."
----------------------------------------------------
If this had happened on any other day, you would’ve brushed him off and retreated to your apartment to cry in solitude. But something about the warmth in Chris's expression, the absence of judgment, just pure sincerity, made you pause and truly look at him. Maybe it was because it was Christmas Eve, or maybe it was the way his dark oceanic eyes and his sincere smile spread warmth inside you. You sighed, quickly wiping your eyes. "You know what? Sure. Why not."
You motioned for him to lead the way as he opened the door to his apartment. Reluctantly, you stepped inside after he gestured you in. Despite your lingering embarrassment, curiosity got the better of you as you glanced around.
The apartment was cozy, though not overly decorated. It was minimalist at best. A single gray couch sat in the living room, with two plush cushions resting on it. In front of it was a wooden coffee table with what looked like an empty mug of coffee. Yet there was a festive vibe in the room: small fairy lights twinkled around the window and shelves, and a medium-sized Christmas tree stood in the corner, neatly decorated with baubles and stockings. It felt inviting, almost like home.
You awkwardly sank into the gray couch and waited for him, as Chris disappeared behind the kitchen counter for a few moments, telling you to make yourself comfortable.
The scent of vanilla and chocolate soon filled your nostrils, making your stomach rumble. You hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast; the last-minute workload had kept you too busy. Save for a couple of sips of cappuccino at the café, you hadn’t had solid food all day. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until Chris placed a plate of cookies and a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. Your mouth watered at the sight.
"There you go, YN," Chris smiled, handing you the cup of hot chocolate he’d made. "Please, help yourself."
"Thank you," you muttered, taking a sip. The sweetness of the hot chocolate melted away the bitterness in your heart, filling you with warmth. “Hmm, it’s so good,” you sighed in satisfaction.
“It sure is,” Chris hummed, settling beside you on the couch.
"So..." Chris leaned back, studying you carefully. "If you’re comfortable sharing... is it boyfriend trouble, or...?"
"More like ex-boyfriend trouble now," you interjected, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
"Actually, we met four years ago. A year later, I had to leave Seoul for a project in Tokyo. I had to lead a new company project."
"He didn’t want to do long distance. It led to a lot of disagreements, but somehow, we agreed to give it a shot. But when I came back two days ago, he didn’t seem too happy about it." You paused. "He told me it wasn’t working anymore..." You looked away, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. "I thought our love could withstand the distance, but I guess I was wrong."
"And today, you saw him with someone else, right?" Chris asked gently.
You whipped your head back toward him, stunned. "H..How’d you know?"
"It’s the only café in the neighborhood. I was there for my daily coffee and happened to witness it," he said, glancing at you with an apologetic look. "I’m sorry if I intruded on your space."
Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but somehow, you still wanted to keep talking. "Yeah, that’s how I became single on Christmas Eve," you said wistfully, a small smile forming on your lips.
"That’s rough. I’m so sorry," Chris winced.
"Yeah, I was an idiot for holding onto it for three years," you said with a bittersweet smile. "Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the transfer. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe we wouldn’t have broken up..."
"YN," Chris said softly, turning you to face him. "Look at me."
You met his eyes, and he continued, "I know, for what it’s worth, that it’s not your fault. That Chris Han... he can go screw himself for letting go of someone like you."
His words caught you off guard. "Now, aren’t you going a little too far ahead of yourself?" you replied with a half-laugh, half-smile. "You barely know me, Mister. How can you say that?"
"I know for a fact, YN," he said, his voice calm and sincere. "I know how much you loved him, and how unappreciative he was. I know he didn’t care about you." "For what it’s worth, from my two cents as your new neighbor, I believe you deserve so much better. Way more, YN," Chris smiled at you.
"How do you know, for a 'fact'that I loved him?" you asked, half-smiling, half-curious.
"Because of all the love you poured into those gifts you sent..." he smirked.
"Gifts?" you asked, confused.
Chris nervously scratched his head, realizing he may have said more than he intended. You raised an eyebrow, and that’s when it clicked.
"Don’t tell me..." you gasped.
"Promise me you won’t be mad, YN?" Chris smiled sheepishly.
You gave him a stern look as he got up and pulled a cardboard box from the cupboard. Inside were neatly wrapped packages with handmade bows, festive papers, and labels that read: "To Chris, Merry Christmas Love, YN."
You stared at him, stunned. "Chris Bang! Why?" you glared at him. "You promised me you wouldn’t be mad!" he nervously chuckled.
"How can I not be mad when you’re literally stealing my ex’s gifts?" you protested. "For the past three years, you’ve been stealing them, and you didn’t even think to check if they were yours or not!"
He just silently stared at you, nonchalantly, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. His boyish grin didn’t help either. In fact, it made this bizarre turn even harder to comprehend.
"Let me get this straight," you said, holding onto the edge of the couch to steady yourself as you leaned back. "You’re telling me that for the past three years, you’ve been getting the Christmas presents I meant to send to my ex? And instead of, I don’t know, returning them, you just... kept them?"
Chris rubbed the back of his neck, his expression somewhere between amused and sheepish. "I mean, technically, yeah. But in my defense, your handwriting on the shipping label was pretty bad. It just said ‘Chris,’ no last name, and my address."
Your mouth hung open. "Now you’re blaming my handwriting for this?"
"Not entirely," he admitted, his grin widening. "I figured it out eventually, probably by the second gift. But by then... well, I didn’t have the heart to send them back. Plus, they were really thoughtful gifts. And I thought, hey, maybe the universe just wanted me to have them."
You gaped at him, caught between disbelief and reluctant amusement. "The universe wanted you to have my ex’s gifts?"
"Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds pretty creepy," he laughed lightly. "But come on....who wouldn’t keep the presents? It’s Christmas!"
"Unbelievable," you scoffed. "Maybe this is the reason Chris Han broke up with me... He didn’t get my special handmade gifts, thanks to a certain gift thief..."
Chris laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Hey, don’t be too mad. You kind of made my Christmases a lot less lonely. I mean, who wouldn’t love surprise presents from a stranger? It’s like I had a secret admirer."
"I wasn’t your admirer, Chris," you snapped back, your face flushed with embarrassment.
"Well, technically, you were, even if you didn’t intend to," he chuckled. "But seriously, thank you for the gifts every year, YN. The handmade cookies, the blue scarf, the mugs, and that beautiful coat you sent really made me feel at home. I wore them all winter and used the mug every day."
"Don’t tell me you read the letters too..." you groaned, burying your face in your hands.
"I did, YN," he said softly. "And they just gave me a sense of fulfillment, a sense of not being alone... like someone was with me."
"Thank you for making my Christmases unintentionally," he added with a huge grin, his eyes shining. A smile so sincere it made your stomach do flips, and your cheeks turn a shade of red you couldn’t explain. What was happening to you? It was too early to be swooning over a guy you just met. Or maybe it was because his hand brushed against you for a second?
"And even if you think that gifting those things to Chris Han would’ve made things better," Chris continued, looking at you seriously, "I believe you’ve got a lot to learn before dating guys who cheat behind your back."
"Backstabbers will always be the same, YN. Even if you think they’ve changed, they won’t."
At his sincere confession, you looked at him, realizing he was right. Chris Han was an utter POS.
You laughed, genuinely, and even surprised yourself. "Oh, and I suppose you think you set the bar higher?"
He grinned, leaning back and resting his arm on the back of the couch. "I mean, I’ve been told I’m a decent neighbor."
You rolled your eyes. "Yep, a decent neighbor who steals other people’s gifts” you smirk
"Flattery won't save you, you know..." you laughed, your voice light but teasing.
"Wasn't trying to save myself either," he replied, leaning back casually against the couch with a carefree smile. "Just telling the truth."
You busied yourself nibbling on another cookie, pretending to focus on the snack while trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Okay, Chris," you said, your lips quirking into a small but genuine smile, the playful banter making you feel oddly at ease.
Suddenly, an idea popped into your head, making your smile widen mischievously. "As an apology, why don't you bake me these delicious cookies and hot chocolate every day until New Year's?" you suggested, raising an eyebrow, your voice playful yet sincere.
"Sounds like a deal, YN," he replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling.
"But before that," you added, a hint of mischief in your voice, "how about you close your eyes for just a couple of seconds?" You could see the flicker of curiosity in his expression, and you couldn't help but smile.
Chris raised an eyebrow. "Now, if you're trying to kidnap or murder me, I can, you know..." you said, throwing a couple of playful air punches in the air as you chuckled, enjoying the light-hearted moment.
"Wasn't tryin' to do that, but thanks for telling me anyway," he laughed, shaking his head, clearly entertained by your antics.
Something soft was placed in your hand, and after a brief moment of waiting, you slowly opened your eyes. To your surprise, there was a small gift bag resting in your palm. You raised an eyebrow, your mind racing with confusion and curiosity.
"You're returning the wrong Chris' gifts?" you asked him, half-joking, half-puzzled.
A smirk curled onto his lips as he leaned forward slightly. "More like giving you one," he replied, his voice filled with a touch of mystery.
Just as you were about to respond, the clock in the room struck twelve with a soft chime, followed by the cheerful cuckoo bird popping out and singing its song. The atmosphere felt like it belonged in a holiday movie, warm and comforting.
"Merry Christmas, YN," Chris grinned at you, his smile wide and sincere.
"Merry Christmas, Chris," you replied with a smile that felt more real than anything you'd said in a while. It was a moment that you wanted to hold onto, even if it was fleeting.
"And what's this?" you asked, nodding toward the gift bag, still trying to figure out the meaning behind it.
"This?" He held it up between his hands, looking down at it with a gentle expression. "This one’s for you."
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you took a closer look at the bag. "For me? Why?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity.
"I figured out two days ago that you're the one who's been sending me the gifts for the past three years..." He paused for a second, his eyes softening, as though the weight of the moment was sinking in.
"Consider it my way of saying thank you—for three years of accidentally making my Christmases a lot less lonely," he said, his tone sincere but tinged with something that made your heart ache slightly.
"Lonely?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the word lingering in the air. This was the second time he had mentioned his loneliness in the conversation, and it made you wonder about the deeper layers of his feelings.
For just a fraction of a second, his smile faltered, and you noticed his gaze shift as if lost in thought. The change was so brief, but you could tell there was something he wasn’t saying.
"Australia is my real home," he said quietly, his voice distant. "And I'm settled in Seoul now for work. I miss my family, my sister, my brother, and my dog, Berry, so much. Christmas is when I miss them the most, but it is what it is..." His words trailed off, and there was an unspoken weight behind them, something raw that he hadn’t fully expressed.
Your chest tightened unexpectedly. There was something in his tone, something guarded, like he didn't want to reveal too much. You didn’t press, giving him the space he needed, and the silence between you both was comforting, almost as if you both understood what the other was feeling.
Wanting to change the subject and give him a bit of relief, you spoke softly, "Okay, let’s see what you’ve got."
He handed over the bag, and as your fingers brushed briefly against his, you ignored the flicker of warmth that spread up your arm. You focused on the bag in your hands, pulling out the tissue paper with careful movements. When you revealed the contents, your breath caught in your throat: it was a beautiful bag in your favorite color - blush pink. The sight of it made your heart skip a beat.
"Chris, how do you know?" you asked in surprise, your voice a mix of awe and wonder.
He shrugged casually, his grin widening. "I may have done some detective work," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "One of your letters mentioned the bag color," he added with a wink. "Thought it might mean something to you..."
You stared at the bag, your fingers gently brushing over the smooth, polished handle. It was a stunning blush pink crossbody bag, perfectly suited for going out to dinner nights or for the holidays. It was exactly the type of bag you’d been admiring for months, and yet, you’d never mentioned it to him.
Of all the gifts you’d sent in the past three years, none had ever felt this thoughtful or this personal. It was as if he truly understood you in a way you hadn't even realized.
"Wow," you murmured, your voice a little breathless. You looked up at him, your smile widening with genuine appreciation. "That’s... actually really beautiful and sweet."
A wide grin spread across his face as he leaned back a little, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Sweet enough to make up for the whole 'stealing your ex’s gifts’ thing?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with teasing amusement.
You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Not even close," you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "But it’s a start."
As the night continued, you felt the weight in your chest slowly lighten. You weren't ready to move on yet, but sitting there, sharing cookies and banter with your neighbor Chris, felt like a step in the right direction. The conversation flowed effortlessly from there, transitioning from light teasing to stories about each other’s lives. Chris had a way of making you laugh, even when you felt like crying. By the time you left his apartment, you realized you were looking forward to seeing him again, something you hadn't expected just a few days ago.
------------------------------------------------------
The Next Day
You giggled at his texts, the warmth of his words making you feel unexpectedly lighter.
-----------------------------------------------------
The days following Christmas blurred into a whirlwind of family gatherings, catching up on work, and the bittersweet calm that often followed the holiday rush. Yet amidst the festive cheer and the soft lull of post-holiday routine, there was a lingering ache—the heartbreak Chris Han had left behind. It was a quiet, constant presence, one that refused to be ignored despite your attempts to distract yourself. Happy couples strolling hand in hand, cheerful holiday music playing in every store, and glowing lights in every window served as unwelcome reminders of what you had lost.
But then there was Chris Bang, your accidental neighbor and self-proclaimed Christmas gift stealer. Against all odds, he became the unintentional solace you hadn’t realized you needed. He had a knack for showing up at just the right time: bumping into you in the hallway with a witty comment about your landlord’s questionable taste in decorations or surprising you with coffee and cookies when your day felt particularly heavy. "Caffeine and cookies cure everything," he’d say with that mischievous grin that never failed to draw a reluctant smile from you.
One day, when you were especially weighed down by the sight of happy couples and the ache in your chest seemed heavier than ever, Chris knocked on your door, insisting you come with him to the fair. At first, you refused, wrapped in your own melancholy, but his persistence wore you down. And so, hours later, you found yourself laughing in the crisp winter air, your hands full of hot cocoa as Chris tried, and failed,repeatedly to win you a plush teddy bear from a claw machine. You teased him mercilessly for his lack of skill, and his mock frustration only made you laugh harder. The ache in your chest lightened, and for the first time in days, you felt like yourself again.
He never left your side, even as work got busier and the New Year dawned. Whether it was a simple message, a casual phone call, or a surprise invitation to take a walk in the park when the sun came out, he made sure to check in, offering little moments of comfort when you needed it most.
With time, you learned more about the man who had unexpectedly found his way into your life. He told you about growing up in Australia, how Seoul had never been part of his plan until his online friends Jisung and Changbin lured him here with the promise of his dream job as a music producer, so he moved across the world. How he had an impressive art collection from his best friend Hyunjin, an artist he was incredibly proud of, and how he’d used the holidays to stay in and unwind from a stressful year. He’d been surprisingly open, sharing details of his life that he usually kept close to his chest.
For your part, you had shared a lot with Chris, your work, your best friends (who were instantly curious about him), and how your parents had been gently pushing you to settle down, despite the fact that you were struggling to imagine your life on anyone else’s timeline. You were beginning to realize how much you enjoyed these quiet, meaningful conversations with him, especially considering how effortlessly everything seemed to flow. Even the things you thought might make you feel vulnerable, you found yourself talking about with surprising ease.
Chris, in turn, had opened up more about his family life. He talked about the playful dynamic he shared with his sister, how they loved to tease each other and how he cherished the annual trips back home to visit. He shared stories about his dog, Berry, whom he missed dearly. There were other little details too, how much he had been adapting to life in Seoul and the adjustment from his home in Australia. Each time he shared something new, you found yourself appreciating him more, and the more you learned about him, the deeper your connection seemed to grow.
You shared your hesitations, your dreams, and the small quirks that made you who you were. It felt natural, easy, even the things that had once felt like guarded secrets seemed safe with him.
And Chris listened, truly listened. He never rushed you or offered hollow reassurances. Instead, he met you where you were, matching your vulnerability with his own. Slowly but surely, the cracks in your heart began to mend, and in their place, something new and unexpected began to grow.
Each shared moment, each quiet laugh, and each tender look made you realize just how much Chris had come to mean to you. The heartbreak that had once defined your days began to fade, replaced by the warmth of his presence...
------------------------------------------------------
As December 2024 arrived, you found yourself surprised at how quickly the year had passed. It was as if time had slipped through your fingers, leaving you wondering how the months had gone by in a blur. Despite a rocky beginning to the year, one thing was clear, Chris Bang had been a steady and reassuring presence in your life, his bad jokes, comforting smile, and unassuming nature making 2024 a lot more bearable than 2023. And now, every time he spoke, you found yourself struck by how his voice, that familiar warmth, could make your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. His smile, his presence,it was beginning to feel like something more than just a friendship, something you weren’t sure how to define yet.
So, when Chris invited you over for his Christmas Eve gathering, you decided to go all in. You wanted to make this night special, just as much for him as for you. You crocheted him a sweater, carefully stitching his initials into the fabric. You baked cookies, filling your kitchen with their delicious scent, and chose a red dress that made you feel both confident and beautiful. As the evening approached, your nerves kicked in, the anticipation of seeing him making your heart race.
When you finally arrived at his door, you knocked lightly, trying to calm the fluttering feeling in your chest. The door opened quickly, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Chris standing there. Instead, it was his friend Han Jisung, whom you’d met briefly a few months ago. His bright smile was instantly familiar, putting you at ease.
"Hey, YN!" Jisung greeted warmly. "Come on in!" he added, stepping aside to let you enter. You walked inside, immediately feeling the cozy Christmas atmosphere. The living room was stunning, with a large tree in the center, its lights twinkling softly against the backdrop of garlands and ornaments. It felt so festive, and for a moment, you forgot about the nerves that had plagued you moments ago.
Chris and his friends were in the middle of a lively conversation when you stepped into the room. But the moment Chris saw you, everything else seemed to fade away. He froze for just a moment, mid-sentence, his eyes wide as they locked onto you. The effect you had on him was immediate, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth in your chest.
You were standing there in your red gown, your hair styled in soft beachy waves that cascaded down to your shoulders. The sight of him standing there, visibly taken aback, made your cheeks flush with warmth. You couldn't help but smile shyly, and when you caught his gaze, his expression softened, his lips parting as if searching for words.
"Hyung!" someone called out, a playful voice that broke the moment. You turned to see a big, muscular guy, probably Changbin, giving Chris a teasing look. "A fly will enter if you don’t close your mouth."
Chris's face immediately turned a shade of red that matched your dress, and he shot a mock glare at Changbin. The others burst into laughter, but Chris quickly composed himself, a sheepish grin replacing his flustered look. "Welcome, YN," he said, his voice warm and inviting. He gestured for you to sit next to him on the couch, his eyes still lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and affection.
You nodded shyly and walked over to the couch, your heart racing as you sat beside him. But as soon as you did, the teasing began. The others couldn't resist. "Ooooooh!" they shouted in unison, their voices full of playful mischief.
You and Chris both erupted into giggles, trying to stifle your laughter. It was clear that no matter how much you both tried to pretend otherwise, the chemistry between you was undeniable. As the teasing continued, you both found comfort in the easy banter, laughing together until the weight of everything else seemed to disappear.
The night unfolded like a beautiful dream, with the flickering lights of the Christmas tree casting a soft glow over the cozy room. Laughter echoed through the space, mixing with the gentle hum of conversations and the clink of glasses. You were surrounded by the warmth of good friends, but there was something about the way Chris's presence seemed to fill every corner of the room, making everything feel just a little brighter. Of course, his ever-present humor kept the atmosphere light, and his jokes, though admittedly cheesy, had everyone laughing, including you.
"Do you know this man right here is a Christmas gift stealer?" you said, pointing toward Chris with a playful grin, recounting the story of how you met him to the group.
"No way!" Hyunjin exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise as he absorbed the details of the story.
“We thought you were the new neighbor, and that’s how he met you,” Changbin added with a teasing tone, looking at Chris as if he’d just discovered some hidden truth about him.
“I had better expectations of you, man,” Jisung laughed. “But you’re no different than the rest of us.”
Chris sighed dramatically, playing along with the teasing. “Hey, in my defense,” he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “How was I supposed to know that gift wasn’t meant for me? It said ‘Dear Chris, love YN’ with my address on it. I thought the universe had decided to bless me with early Christmas gifts.”
The entire room erupted in laughter, some of the guys doubled over, clutching their stomachs. Chris sat back in his chair, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, his dimples making an appearance as his signature smile spread across his face.
“You guys act like I planned it,” Chris protested, though his playful tone made it clear he was enjoying the moment. “It’s not my fault the universe decided to shower me with gifts every Christmas.”
“Free gifts?” you raised an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook that easily. “You’re lucky I didn’t press charges for theft, Christopher Bang!”
The room burst into another wave of laughter, the sound so infectious it had you all grinning ear to ear. Chris shook his head, chuckling. “Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of defeat. “But those gifts were too nice to ignore. I figured I must have been extra good that year.”
Hyunjin leaned forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “Or maybe someone was really in love with you and you didn’t even know it.”
Chris’s cheeks immediately turned a shade of pink, and he hastily averted his gaze to the floor, mumbling something incoherent. The group caught on to his sudden shyness and burst out with a loud, collective “Ooooooh!”
“Wait a second,” Jisung interjected with a raised eyebrow, now eyeing Chris in mock disbelief. “So you’ve been using scarves, mugs, and all those gifts knowing full well they weren’t even yours?”
Chris’s grin widened mischievously. “Hey, they came with my name on them. Technically, they were mine.”
Changbin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking at Chris as if he were a detective revealing a crucial piece of evidence. “You’re lucky YN didn’t track you down sooner. This could have turned into one of those true crime documentaries where the victim is the ‘mystery gift giver.’”
You shook your head, chuckling softly at the thought. “Trust me, I almost did. But now, I’m starting to think the universe had its reasons.”
For a moment, the laughter died down, and the room grew quieter as your eyes met Chris’s. There was something in his gaze, something softer than the playful teasing that had filled the air just moments before. The noise of the room seemed to fade, and all you could hear was the rhythmic beat of your own heart. His smile remained, but there was a depth to it now, a quiet understanding that seemed to bridge the gap between you. It felt like the world was holding its breath as you shared a moment that was just for the two of you.
As the clock inched closer to midnight, the lively chatter in the room began to fade, replaced by the soft hum of smaller conversations and the gentle melodies of Christmas tunes playing in the background. The festive atmosphere lingered, cozy and comforting, as the glow of the Christmas tree bathed the room in warm, golden light.
You found yourself nestled beside Chris on the couch, a glass of wine cradled in your hand. He seemed relaxed, his attention caught by a show playing softly on the TV. But your focus was elsewhere, on the small, carefully wrapped package resting in your lap.
Gathering your courage, you turned to him and gently nudged his arm. "Here," you said, offering him the gift with a shy smile.
Chris’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked down at the neatly wrapped present in your hands. "For me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Or did you forget the right address again?"
You laughed, rolling your eyes at his teasing. “Shut up and open it!”
As the paper fell away, his face lit up with genuine delight. Nestled inside was a periwinkle sweater, his initials lovingly stitched into the fabric, alongside a neatly arranged box of homemade cookies. His grin widened as he looked between the gift and you, his eyes sparkling with warmth.
"You made this?" he asked, his voice soft with wonder.
You nodded, biting your lip nervously. "I did. Took me a while, but... I wanted it to be special."
Chris held up the sweater, admiring the intricate detail, before carefully setting it aside along with the cookies. His gaze returned to you, his smile softer now, almost reverent.
Chris carefully set the sweater and cookies aside, his attention fully on you. He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, as if the room around you had faded away and there was only the two of you left in this quiet, intimate space. “YNnie,” he whispered, the nickname he had given you rolling off his tongue with such warmth that it sent a shiver down your spine, “I don’t think you realize how much you’ve changed my life this past year.”
You blinked, your heart suddenly racing in your chest, caught off guard by the weight of his words. “Me?”
Chris nodded, his hand moving gently to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and almost reverent. “When I met you, I thought it was just some funny coincidence, a mix-up that led to free gifts and good laughs. But you... you turned out to be so much more than that. You’re thoughtful, kind, ridiculously talented, and you've made this year brighter in ways I can’t even put into words. And I’m not just saying that because you bake the best cookies.”
You let out a soft laugh, a tear threatening to spill as his words wrapped around your heart. “You’re just saying that because I made you a sweater,” you teased, trying to deflect the overwhelming emotion building in your chest.
“No,” he said firmly, his eyes never leaving yours, his voice unwavering. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”
The room felt smaller now, the Christmas lights casting their soft glow around you, wrapping you both in a bubble of warmth and intimacy. It was as if time had slowed down, and all that mattered was this moment, the two of you. His hand found yours, gently resting over it, his touch grounding you.
“You’ve made me laugh when I didn’t feel like laughing,” he continued, his voice rich with sincerity. “You’ve reminded me that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. And every time I look at you, I’m reminded that maybe, just maybe, the universe finally got it right.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, tears threatening to spill as you absorbed the weight of his words. “Chris…”
Your cheeks burned as you gazed at him, unable to deny the depth of the feelings that had been quietly building between you over the past year. The way he had supported you, respected your space, and been there when you needed him, all without hesitation. How had you never realized before just how much he had changed your life? Maybe, just maybe, he was the one you had been waiting for all along.
When Chris leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur, you felt it,the certainty that the so-called mix-up, the mistake that had brought you into each other’s lives, was anything but coincidence. It was fate. A quiet, unspoken connection that had led you here, to this very moment.
Your breath hitched as the distance between you disappeared. Without hesitation, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the magnetic pull of his presence. His lips brushed against yours, featherlight at first,hesitant, almost as if asking for permission. When you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened, unfolding with a slowness that spoke of intention and meaning. It was tender yet passionate, every movement deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second.
His hand gently cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing delicate circles against your skin. The warmth of his touch grounded you, even as your heart threatened to soar. You melted into him, losing yourself in the quiet intimacy of the moment. For that brief, perfect moment, the world outside ceased to exist. Nothing else mattered,only him, only this.
When you finally broke apart, both breathless and overwhelmed, Chris rested his forehead gently against yours, his tender smile radiating warmth. “Merry Christmas, YNnie,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with affection, as though the words were meant for you and you alone.
“Merry Christmas, Chris,” you murmured in return, your voice trembling with emotion. Your heart felt impossibly full, and the heat in your cheeks lingered, a reminder of the moment you’d just shared.
As the world around you softened, wrapped in the glow of twinkling Christmas lights and the quiet hum of holiday melodies, you leaned into the comforting presence beside you. In that stillness, a profound realization settled over you. Sometimes, the most precious gifts in life aren’t the ones you meticulously plan or chase after. They’re the ones that catch you off guard...the ones that find you, that feel like fate wrapping itself around you in the most unexpected, beautiful way.
And tonight, that gift had come wrapped in a heart, a dimpled smile, and a name that had become your favorite sound....
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