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#just waiting for a chance to be applied in a meaningless way
curiousaur · 2 months
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the gender cascade is cascading (!)
the she/hers gasp first
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followed by the they/thems
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and the he/hims are last to react
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mvltisstuff · 1 year
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dress - c.f
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summary: conrad overhears y/n craving touch in her life, so he decided to take matters into his own hands.
conrad fisher x reader
a/n: guys!! s2!!! don’t hate me, BUT i’m not enjoying it as much as i did s1… i will say steven is getting a lot better this season!! i got messaged to write this, so it is a request <3
“it’s just different, taylor,” y/n sighs. “it’s the complete opposite of sex, that’s what everyone wants. i just wish i was more than that.”
conrad peeps through her slightly ajar bedroom door. she’s on the phone with a friend, laying on her stomach in bed. his heart aches at her words.
y/n’s been with a few guys, hooking up at parties but they never want anything else. she barely gets eye contact or a smile after, just letting them walk away. she’s not used to receiving physical affection. she spends the long nights pretending someone is laying next to her, pretending conrad is next to her. she holds her own hands, she runs them down her own body to deal with the starvation. she only wants someone to love on her for who she is, not just for her body. it’s gotten to a point where she doesn’t know how to react when people respond kindly. when someone pats her shoulder, when someone gives her a meaningless hug. she takes those things very literally and to heart. she doesn’t ask for it blatantly anymore. she silently begs for anyone to just hold her hand or wrap their arm around her shoulders.
she and conrad have been best friends for years. they always spent summers together and never kept secrets from one another. they’d sneak out to smoke or go to parties, but sometimes they’d just sit in the house and talk.
it’s honestly painful for conrad to sit around and act like he wants her as a friend. he hates every waking moment that he hasn’t just completely spilled his love for her. what’s even worse, is that she wants it more. the only thing keeping them apart is each other. when conrad hears her upset voice from the room, he just wants to run in and hold her in his arms. his own fears, however, stop him. he figures he’ll have to wait, ease into it. plus, he figures, no harm in a little bit of teasing.
later that day, everyone had been outside and conrad, jeremiah, steven, belly, and y/n were in the pool as the moms watched. they decided to play a game off the top of their heads, y/n and conrad single-handedly destroying the other team. when she swam back over to him, she was about to give him a high five and savor the millisecond of contact they made.
when conrad’s hand enclosed on hers, leaving his grasp in her hands, her heart paused. she thought she was dreaming, the boy she loved actually holding her hand. it wasn’t just the slap of their hands, it was his fingers folded over hers which made someone hold a lighter over y/n’s heart. she tried to contain to beam that was about to reveal from her face.
conrad could almost feel y/n’s happiness through her hand. he thought it was adorable how excited she got over him, and he was thrilled that she had a bit of light added to her feelings.
conrad, being the cunning boy he is, decided to take a step further into y/n’s delusions. at the beach, he noticed that y/n didn’t apply any sunscreen to her back. he didn’t want her to burn, but it was the perfect chance to make her go crazy over him touching her body.
“are you gonna put any on your back, y/n?” he asks.
“oh-“ y/n whispers, her face turning red and she can’t tell if it’s from the sun or embarrassment.
“c’mere,” he smirks, almost like a magnet causing y/n to step over to him. he pointed for her to crouch down, so she moved her hair out of the way and conrad rubbed the sunscreen into her soft skin. y/n swore she was floating, or looked like she had a stick up her ass. her heart was thumping in her chest at the feeling of his fingers running down her spine, dodging the thin string of the halter bikini top she had on.
when she looked over at belly, she had a thin grin on her face in a mocking way. y/n shot her a death stare, and belly shuffled away into the water.
“y/n,” conrad speaks, putting the bottle down on the sand.
“yeah?” she flicks out of the zone she was in. “oh, sorry.”
“don’t be,” he says, not breaking eye contact with her. the moment her name was uttered from his lips, it felt like the world stopped turning.
“thanks, connie,” y/n smiles, brushing her hair back and running out to belly in the water.
conrad watches her figure run off as he takes in the heat of the sun, while also admiring y/n from afar. someone that ravishing deserved to be loved, and conrad knows he can.
the next time they end up alone together is in y/n’s car, windows rolled down and the speakers blaring music. they’re both singing gleefully along, conrad looking over at y/n to gander at her beauty whilst she drives. when she rolls the car to a stop, he and y/n giggle at her messed up hair. conrad decides to take a leap of faith, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear and out of her face.
“there’s that pretty face,” the moment he mumbles those words over the music, y/n can’t control herself anymore. the sparks from her love for him are like fireworks now, and they could explode any minute. his hand has been away from her for 10 seconds, and she’s already grieving his touch. she looks up at his face, a calm, relaxed demeanor filling the car. his hair still managed to look perfect despite the wind. suddenly, a breeze comes over y/n and she sits back in the seat releasing an awkward chuckle. “hey, don’t get all shy.”
she looks back into his eyes, more radiant than the sunset around the parking lot. the lack of cars makes it feel as though they are the only people on earth, and she wishes it could stay that way forever. conrad is her safe space. she’s gotten so close to having him right where she wants him, and she won’t let herself run away again. when she allows his hand to make its way back up to her cheek, she shuffles in the driver’s seat and moves closer to him. his touch is so light, barely coming into contact with y/n. she wants more. she needs more.
she leans in, finally connecting their lips as the dam breaks. everything in her body feels like it’s on top of the world, at last being able to take in the intimacy. his hands are wandering down her arms without breaking the contact between them. his soft lips were the only thing she could focus on besides her catching breaths.
the taste on her lips was sweet, making conrad want to just indulge in her more. the magic aroma of her perfume flooded her nose, just giving him more reminders of her as they made out in her car. the pair could only hear the passionate breaths between them and the screaming thoughts inside their head.
every single part of y/n was satisfying all moments of their kiss. the way their noses brushed together as she tilted her head, the feeling of his jaw in her hand, how his tongue danced with her delicately.
conrad couldn’t stop his hands from migrating to her waist, landing them on her hips and leaning over the gearshift. his large hands land on the back of her thighs as she swings over, straddling his groin as she dives in for another kiss. he guides her hips to roll back and forth, making them both whine out a bit at the tension.
“conrad-“
“god, i feel so fucking bad for any of the guys you’ve been with that haven’t cherished you the way you deserve,” his raspy voice comes through to her ears, pecking at her neck and grabbing the seams of her shirt.
“please don’t stop,” she begs as his hands run down her thighs and waist.
“that’s the last thing i’m gonna do, angel.”
he yanks off her shirt, letting her do the same to him. she runs her hands down his chest, feeling her nails and soft fingertips down his torso. it’s one of the best feelings he’s ever had, his biggest crush for years touching him exactly how he wants. he looks out in the parking lot, seeing no one and praising whoever invented tinted windows.
y/n sits up, unbuttoning her jean shorts and dragging them down her legs. she starts to undo conrad’s as well, pulling them down far enough to just reveal his boxers. she grinds her clothed pussy on his dick, causing a light groan to escape conrad’s lips. “oh fuck, y/n.”
“you’ve had your fun teasing me this past week,” she mocks, starting to dip her fingers into his waistline. “but i’ll be nice tonight.”
conrad’s hand sinks down, pulling her thin underwear to the side and running his fingers down her slit, collecting her arousal and teasing her clit. she moans out as approval for him as she pulls his dick out of his boxers. the feeling of ecstasy near her cunt runs through her whole body, only making her more excited for him.
she gives his dick a few pumps, making conrad hiss and moan out deeply into the air. she lifts her body up before lining her entrance with his tip, sinking down onto him, she takes his entire length.
“holy fuck,” conrad exhales, taking in the pleasure of her wrapped around his dick. she bounces up and down, her hand gripping his arm and protruding muscles. she pants heavily at the action, him eventually thrusting up into her.
“fuck, fuck, conrad!” she moans loudly, causing a smirk to grow on conrad’s lips. she feels his hands all over her. running down her back, her ass, coming back up to rub over her covered nipples. she takes in every last touch before he moves his fingers down, circling around her clit making her legs shake above him. her mouth is dangled open, her eyes and nose scrunched in pleasure. and it’s all from him. he’s finally made her feel as good as he’s always wanted to.
when conrad starts hitting the perfect spots inside of her, the tightness in her stomach returns and stays familiarly. “conrad, i’m gonna cum,”
“i know,” he breathes. “me too.”
he meets his hips with hers a few more times before pulling himself out of her and releasing all over her stomach and thighs. her legs are twitching still, coming down from her orgasm. she’s lightly grinding against his thigh, letting herself ride out the high.
y/n leans against conrad’s chest, his hands returning to her lower back once again and rubbing small circles on her skin. he never knew the touch of someone could be so comforting, especially when he knew how much she needed it.
“you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever known,” he whispers into her ear.
“thank you, conrad,” she smiles. “for everything.”
“don’t thank me,” he replies. “baby, you’ll always be enough for me.”
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Higher Twins Chance
07..09.2024 UPDATE:
Added German translation (Thanks Simmie-Maus!)
Fixed an issue that offsprings gender and count couldn't be changed via MCCC.
ATTENTION!
Now the mod should consider settings of pregnancy module of MCCC. Also you can modify gender of offsprings with MCCC in pregnancy menu.
But keep in mind that you should specify it with two options: 2 Male and 0 Female or 0 Male and 2 Female. You shouldn't leave another field empty because this mod limits offspring count to exactly 2. And you can't select 1 Male and 1 Female since game doesn't support it: monozygotic children can be only the same gender (just as in reality).
Also that means you can't change offsprings count – it can be only 2 for sims with this trait.
It you try to change it not in the expected way a game freezes for a few seconds and nothing changes – so nothing breaks but it's just meaningless.
If you want another offsprings count or different genders then you should remove trait before doing it.
Also now you can add/remove the trait when the sim is already pregnant – offspring data changes automatically!
Just another small mod for better twins gameplay. Today it's a cheat that adds a special trait to your sims that can be impregnated. With this trait each pregnancy with almost 100% chance results in two children with identical appearance.
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You can add or remove the trait in Cheat Sim Info category.
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ATTENTION!
This trait affects not started pregnancy only. So if your sim is already pregnant then use cheats to stop it and start a new one or just wait for the next pregnancy. The same behavior with removing the trait.
Also the trait should be applied on a sim that will be pregnant since the code doesn't consider another parent at the stage of monozygotic offsprings generation.
Compatible with 1.108 Base Game. Also high recommend to use it with my Twins mod.
REQUIRED
Lot51 Core Library v.21
CONFLICTS
None
TRANSLATION
Russian translation is included
INSTALLATION
Unzip the archive in Mods folder. Keep it no deeper than one subfolder
DOWNLOAD (SFS, Free)
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hansolmates · 4 years
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one more time (m)
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pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]
if you’ve enjoyed this (whether as a standalone or as a series) please consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨✨✨
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“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.” 
“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events. 
“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong. 
The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit. 
“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines. 
Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door. 
The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel. 
“Name?” 
“Xu Minghao.” 
“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go. 
“Name?” 
“Chou Tzuyu.” 
“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?” 
“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?” 
The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you. 
“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!” 
“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?” 
Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad. 
By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time. 
“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.” 
Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city. 
“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?” 
“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.” 
“Oh please—”  you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion. 
“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest. 
You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”
“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…” 
“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier. 
You and Jungkook used to fool around. 
Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”  
“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square. 
“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside. 
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.
The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities. 
You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed. 
Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week. 
And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof. 
The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax. 
It’s going to be a long week. 
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Jeon: where u @?
You: hotel room
Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together
You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉  have a good night
You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself. 
Your phone rings once more. 
Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our  room? Plsssssss 
Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰
Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth. 
Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position. 
Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret. 
“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.” 
Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse. 
“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby. 
“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink. 
You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook. 
These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite. 
You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form. 
“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall. 
Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”
“So… you decided to check all the rooms?” 
“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.” 
“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in. 
“Fuck, this room all to yourself?” 
Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric. 
It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship. 
As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet  your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual. 
“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”
“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”
“And… what are you feeling?” 
“Dumb things.” 
“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”
“This time they are.”
“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.” 
How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.” 
“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.” 
“Right, friends.”
“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?” 
“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.” 
Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time. 
“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.
This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?” 
“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”
“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake. 
“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.” 
You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.” 
His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?” 
“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand. 
You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort. 
“I don’t want her,” he finally says. 
“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”
“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.
“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.  
“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—” 
“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—” 
“You’re deflecting, again.” 
“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.” 
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.” 
“I'm not going anywhere this time.” 
“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?” 
You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more. 
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“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?” 
Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?” 
Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.” 
“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.  
If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end. 
You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self. 
“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?” 
Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.” 
“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”
“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”  
You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later. 
“A date,” she twitches,  “with who?” 
“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall. 
You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves. 
“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?” 
“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?” 
“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!” 
“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.
But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.” 
You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?” 
“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.” 
“Consider yourself taken.”  
Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop. 
You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese. 
And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world. 
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It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun. 
Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional. 
At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that. 
But Tzuyu? She irritating. 
“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away. 
Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week? 
“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?” 
It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy. 
But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing. 
Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again? 
You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 
Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd. 
You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby. 
Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.  
You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago. 
The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk. 
Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week. 
The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.
“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—” 
Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled. 
“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.” 
“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.” 
“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms. 
By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside. 
“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed. 
“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.” 
“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—” 
Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin. 
“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.” 
“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.
You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips. 
But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush. 
“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.” 
So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness. 
You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.
“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions. 
You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist. 
“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass. 
It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact. 
“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up. 
“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.” 
“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.” 
Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.” 
He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you. 
“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be. 
“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout. 
“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!” 
Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets. 
“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?” 
“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.” 
You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him. 
“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?” 
“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room. 
“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination. 
“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.” 
He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless. 
There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you. 
“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”
You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.” 
“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up." 
“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!” 
Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest. 
“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.” 
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bonus. 
You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat. 
"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible. 
"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body. 
"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.
"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?" 
"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad." 
"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"
"I do."
"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."
"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."
"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry." 
"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough." 
1K notes · View notes
onceupon · 3 years
Text
London Boy
summary: Y/n finds herself all the way across the pond, trying to escape OBX. But much to her surprise, a certain someone might get in the way.
pairing: Rafe x reader (just an intro in this part, we’ll get there dw)
warnings: swearing, drinking, some mentions of anxiety?
word count: 3.2k
a/n: if you’re a sucker for a slow burn like me, buckle up and enjoy the ride. I plan on this being multiple parts and this is also my first time posting so please be gentle with me lol :’-) (not canon Rafe)
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You huffed as you dragged your extra large and definitely overweight luggage down to the pickup area at Heathrow airport. You had just landed in London where you’d be going to school until the holidays.  You had decided to apply for, and actually got accepted into, your high school’s British exchange program. Every year Kildare Academy gave the option for 15 seniors to study for half the school year at Westheath Academy in London, a private boarding school, while 15 kids from their school came to yours. Normally, you wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving your friends and family for that long, not to mention missing out on half of senior year at home. But ever since the drama that erupted during the summer after your junior year that ended with you being shunned by your “friend group” (where they really ever your friends to begin with?), you practically jumped at the opportunity to get as far away from the Outer Banks as possible, albeit for a little while.
You didn’t know at all what to expect at Westheath, you had skipped the predeparture orientation at Kildare a few weeks ago, but you didn’t care - didn’t care who was going or what Westheath was like, all that mattered was that for the next few months you could finally breath. It was the clean slate you desperately needed, a chance to finally be around people and places you hadn’t known since birth. Sure there were going to be 14 other kids from Kildare there as well, but you had zero intentions of sticking with your OBX peers over the next few months. You weren’t going to let your small town suffocate you for a second longer if you could help it.
You double checked the license plate on your phone screen as the Uber you ordered pulled up.
“Y/N?” the driver called out from the front-right window (god that was going to take some getting used to.)
“Yep!” you smiled, huffing as you tried to pick up your luggage and step off the curb. Thankfully the uber driver was quick to your rescue, effortlessly lifting your suitcase into the trunk of the car. Leave it to you to overpack without even thinking to leave room for all of the clothes and souvenirs you were certain to accumulate - oh well, an excuse for a new suitcase you supposed.
Not in the mood for small talk, you were relieved that the Uber driver silently read your mind, playing a pop station as you both respectfully ignored each other’s presence. You anxiously tapped your thumb on your phone, eyes flicking between the screen where you watched your route progress and the view out your window of townhomes, pubs, and countless strangers passing by.
You hadn’t felt anxious about leaving for London the entire first half of junior year, so why was your stomach and head simultaneously churning now? You were so excited to experience a version of life that was the opposite of everything you were trying to get away from - a version of life that involved British accents, buzzing city life, and endless possibilities. But it was all of a sudden dawning on you how unfamiliar it all was. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, no matter how far you ran, you would never be able to fully separate yourself from OBX. That damned small beach-town would always be a part of you, an inextricable thread in the fabric of your life.
The Uber pulled up to a halt in front of your destination. You hesitantly glanced out your window as you double checked the silver number on the building. Yep, 25 Brampton Rd - you were here. The Uber driver graciously lifted your suitcase out of the trunk for you and as he pulled away you let out a long breath - your fresh start was waiting behind the doors in front of you.
You rang the doorbell to the lobby, the security here no joke. You were soon buzzed into the building and you shakily pulled your suitcase in behind you, desperately trying to calm your nerves to no avail.
“Hi,” you croaked out as you approached the man seated at the front desk. “I’m- uhh here to check in to my apartment- uh I mean flat… I think… I’m with the Kildare Academy exchange,” you rambled, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Despite your best efforts, your anxiety was taking over.
The man gave you a sympathetic smile. “Name please?”
“Y/n L/n,” you replied, pulling your lips into a sheepish straight-lined smile as you mindlessly tapped your fingers on the handle of your suit case.
“L/n, L/n, L/n,” the man quietly muttered under his breath as his pen traced over a list of names. “Ahh here you are. Alright Miss L/n, here is a fob, this lets you into the building, now this key lets you into your flat, you’ll be on the second floor - apartment 2C, and this key is for your individual room,” he began to fire off at you as he rounded the desk and came to grab your suitcase, beginning to walk as you hastily followed suit. “This packet will tell you everything you need to know about our building here - wifi, laundry, trash days,” he shoved some papers in your hand as you both entered the elevator, him pressing the button for the second floor.
You emerged on to your floor and a few steps later you two were at the door of your new home, which the man quickly unlocked gesturing for you to step inside. “And this, Miss L/n, is your flat for the next few months with us here at Westheath. Your room is the second right down the hall there and I believe you’re the first here. Two of your flatmates who are yet to check in are from Kildare, such as yourself, and the other two are students of our own here at Westheath. You know I’m surprised how early you are, classes don’t start until next week! But nevertheless I’ll let you get settled,” you stood staring blankly at your new surroundings, more or less registering the words this man was firing off at you.
“I’m Richard by the way, if you ever need anything you know where to find me,” the man extended his hand toward you.
“Thank you,” you smiled, accepting his handshake.
“Welcome to Westheath,” he smiled back and just as quickly was turning on his heel and back out the door before you could get in another word, leaving you in your new flat by yourself.
You slowly walked through the empty place, meandering through the kitchen and living area, down the hall, peaking into the bathroom, and then finding your way to your room. It certainly wasn’t the type of living arrangement you were used to back home - your family lived on Figure 8 in the Outer Banks meaning you had grown up surrounded by mansions and luxuries. This place was small, simple, and yet it was cozy and well… perfect. It was the exact opposite of your Figure 8 life and that alone was enough to make you love it. You smiled, content, as you sank on to your empty bed, taking in your new room. You had a nice sized desk, a decent shelf, and a wardrobe. Simple and sufficient. You could get used to this. The room was starkly barren, but since school wasn’t set to start for another week and no one was here yet you made a mental note to go on a little mission to find some plants and decorations to bring the white box that was your room a bit more to life.
——-
Three days had passed and still your other flat mates had yet to show. You were starting to wonder if they ever would or if you’d end up living in this flat all by yourself. Your room was now decorated, you had found some cute posters in a shop you had wandered into, some plants in another, and string lights in a third. You had acquainted yourself with the grocery store around the corner and the drug store down the street and you’d even gone on the tube all by yourself.
Being on your own these last few days had been decidedly therapeutic, leaving you unable to contain a cheesy grin every time it hit you that you were actually here, in London, far far away from OBX. But you couldn’t help feeling a little lonely, with a passing hello to Richard every time you left and returned to the building being your main source of human interaction these last few days.
You laid on your bed as you debated the decision you were about to make - you would’ve never dared to use Tinder back home. You knew virtually everyone on the island and would’ve been absolutely mortified to match with anybody there. But hey - you were in London baby! This was a fresh start and nothing was off limits. You sighed and gave in, downloading the app and quickly making a profile. You must’ve rearranged the order of your pictures at least a dozen times before you finally decided it was good enough. You started to swipe, an endless supply of British boys at your finger tips. You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at how funny the whole concept was, your inbox already flooding with cheesy pick up lines from your matches. You spent the next hour going back and forth with these boys, silly, meaningless, flirty conversations - god it was so much easier being a flirt through a screen, you would be positively flushed in the face in person, unless you were drunk of course (your drunk self was a dangerously confident flirt for sure).
Liam: are you free tonight? Down to grab a drink and chat?
Oh wow. Straight to the point wasn’t he. You knew the point of the app was to eventually get off it and meet up with someone, but now that you were met with the opportunity, your stomach was flipping upside down. Fuck it, what do you have to lose?
Y/n: yeah that sounds great, I’m in Hammersmith if you wanted to go somewhere there?
Liam: perfect so am I (: 8pm at The Ladle. See you there xx
Pure adrenaline coursed through your body as you started doing your hair and makeup, throwing clothes all around your small room to find the perfect outfit that was cute but simultaneously made it seem like you weren’t trying too hard. You threw your wallet and keys in your purse, chugged the glass of wine you had been casually sipping on by yourself, and quickly headed out the door before you could overthink it and change your mind.
——
You nervously approached the bar that Google Maps had directed to you, not sure what you were getting yourself into, but you had already walked all the way here so you’d be damned if you didn’t see it through.
“Y/n?” a voice called out to you. God, hearing your name in that accent sent shivers down your spine.
“Yeah that’s me, Liam?” you questioned back, staring up at the fluffy browned-hair boy approaching you.
“That’s me,” he winked, extending his arm out to you which you nervously grabbed, as he led you into The Ladle, spotting an empty table for the two of you.
“So Y/n, what are you doing here in London. Something tells me you’re not from here?”the boy across from you smiled as you two got settled in your seats.
“Hmmm I wonder what could’ve ever given it away,” you replied with a sarcastic smile, American accent in full force. “But I’m here for school, on an exchange at Westheath Academy.”
“Oh shit, that means we’ll see each other around. I’m finishing up my last year actually. And somehow you’re the first American I’ve had the pleasure of being on a date with,” he smiled with a devilish grin that felt like it was burning into you, you hoping the flush on your cheeks wasn’t too obvious with the dim lighting.
“Lucky me,” you smiled back, faking a sly confidence as best you could despite the fact that you were all nerves on the inside. Dating was not something you were familiar with, having maybe gone on two back home, if those even counted.
“First round on me, what are you drinking tonight Y/n?”
“Umm a vodka cran is fine,” you replied to which you were immediately met with a scoff.
“No way babe, you’re in a pub in England now. Should’ve figured as much coming from an American like you,” he chuckled with a shake of his head, his fluffy hair bouncing with it. “I’m getting you a pint,” he asserted, walking over to the bar and giving you a moment to breath and collect yourself. You hated beer but weren’t about to put up a fight, at this point you would down just about any alcohol in order to get some more liquid courage in your system.
He quickly returned, placing the tall glass of golden-colored liquid in front of you.
“Cheers, to new school mates,” he winked extending his glass up to yours.
“To new school mates,” you smiled back, bringing your glass to clink with his, taking a long swig and trying not to grimace at the taste of the liquid going down your throat.
——
The night passed by quickly, you and Liam going through three rounds of drinks as you both laughed and bantered with one another, your nerves all but dissipated by the alcohol now coursing through your bloodstream. Heck, the beer was even starting to taste… good? God you barely recognized yourself anymore, but in the best possible way. One by one you were letting the closely guarded walls you had built up over the years in OBX fall, and you were feeling better than ever before - you felt free.
You and Liam stumbled back arms linked to the building you found out you were both living in, Liam on the fourth floor. You rummaged for the fob in your purse and you both got on the elevator, Liam instinctively pressing both your floor numbers. The elevator dinged opening to your floor, Liam turning to you with a cheeky smile.
“See you around, Y/n,” he winked. Why did you find that so attractive, or maybe it’s just because you were slightly drunk.
“Goodnight Liam,” you smirked back, blowing him a kiss as you walked out the elevator, the doors closing behind you.
You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot as you unlocked your flat and stumbled into your room, immediately collapsing on your bed. London. It was definitely going to be an adventure.
——
You were woken up the next day by the sun peaking through your window. You yawned and let out a big stretch, still giddy from last night’s date. It’s not like you thought you had just met your soulmate or something, you both kept the evening light, mainly joking and flirting as you downed drinks. But god you couldn’t remember the last time you had that much fun or ended a night feeling so confident and carefree. You were embracing every ounce of the euphoria you were getting from your new life.
You slipped out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, still rubbing the morning crust out of your eyes. Just as you got a pot of coffee going, you heard the distinct sound of a key turning, startling you as you realized it was coming from outside of your flat’s door. You cursed at the fact that you were about to meet a new flatmate while in your flannel pajamas and messy bun hanging halfway off your head, but mainly you were excited to finally have some company.
“Dude it’s no Figure 8 living but fuck it I’ll live anywhere to not have my parents breathing down my neck these next few months,” you heard a voice say, now in the hallway of your flat.
You immediately freeze. That was a male voice, definitely a male. Of course it makes sense now that you think of it, everyone in the flat gets their own room so what does it matter if the flat is co-ed. The thought just hadn’t crossed your mind, you automatically assumed you’d be living with all girls.
“Yeah man, anywhere that’s 1,000 miles away from Ward sounds like the perfect place to me,” another male voice laughed in return. Ward? Ward Cameron? That couldn’t possibly be who the voice was referring to because that would mean you were living with- and before you could even finish your thought you were standing jaw slightly parted staring at Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton  in front of you. Two of the most popular guys at school.
You weren’t really friends but your families knew each other so you inevitably saw one another at kook events every now and then. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them. You always told yourself you didn’t care about boys like Rafe and Topper or about fitting in with their crowd, yet you always became nervous in their presence.  They were cool. They partied a lot, were athletes, and had girls tripping over them, which you couldn’t fault considering anyone with eyes could tell they were attractive, but you’d never have the confidence to be so bold with guys like that. Unless you were drunk of course. And unless you were the new confident and carefree version of yourself that you had been on your date last night with Liam.
“Yo Y/n, no fucking way, I didn’t know we’d get to live with girl,” Topper smiled at you with a teasing grin.
You were suddenly acutely aware of how disheveled you look and how you weren’t wearing a bra under your thin pajama top.
“Uh hey w-what are you guys doing here,” you managed to choke out. That confident girl from last night had disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, leaving you now feeling winded in front of the two boys from your hometown. Why were you getting so flustered?
“Just on a little exchange program from Kildare, maybe you’ve heard of it,” teased Rafe sarcastically, a smile tugging at his lips, holding back a laugh at how caught off guard you looked.
“Yeah no yeah of course,” you stuttered, “I guess I just wasn’t expecting you two to want to sign up for it.”
That’s when you realized the obvious. Every year there was always a number of spots reserved on the exchange for athletes, and Rafe and Topper were two of Kildare’s star soccer players.
“What and get to miss an opportunity to play at Westheath and go to Premier League games all semester? No shot,” laughed Topper.
“Maybe you should’ve gone to orientation after all, roomie,” joked Rafe as he picked up his bag following Topper down the hall to their rooms. Rafe Cameron noticed I didn’t go to orientation?
You let your face fall in your hands with a groan only audible to you. You quickly picked up your head and shook yourself off, pouring yourself a cup of coffee as you tried to ground yourself from your frazzled state. Looks like escaping OBX was going to be harder than you thought.
---
Part 2
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admiringlove · 3 years
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hi there! congrats on your 1k milestone! this is my submission for the event? 'the moon smiled, the sun twinkled; but both were jealous of your stardust soul' by p. perry + kita shinsuke? and can it be angst please?
purest we could’ve been.
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the moon smiled, the sun twinkled; but both were jealous of your stardust soul.
— p. perry.
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you still remember it. 
the kind smile he'd given you, the way his eyes had crinkled, the way he spoke your name and had asked if you'd be his—it made him the happiest man in the world; taking you in his arms and spinning you around as the living room walls echoed your laughter and his. he'd slid the ring onto your finger, and albeit it was cold metal, you'd given him the brightest grin you could muster as he kissed you right after. 
you were just children. twenty-one, fresh out of college and ready to start your lives. he was investing in a few acres of land in hyо̄go, you were applying to more colleges for further studies, and everything seemed like it was stolen right out of a daydream. 
the joy you shared with him was radiant; dancing to jazz or other classical music together in the same living room, giggling with a lilt in your voices whenever you'd accidentally step on his toes. you remember the short time the two of you were engaged vividly—it was like time was woven straight from fairytales. mornings were spent waking up to honey-scented breakfast or in his bare arms. smooth and rippling, you'd describe it, or as the 'honeymoon phase'. 
the wedding—you wouldn't describe it as any less than perfect. because how could you? your whole family was happy with him, he was the perfect man. kita shinsuke, who'd always exceeded expectations within a split second was the man of your dreams. the two of you danced to the same jazz(or was it classical? you couldn’t remember properly), song for your first dance, the food was spectacular, and best of all, he'd learned to play the piano just for you as a surprise. you'd cried, of course, and probably shared one of the longest hugs in history with him right after he was done. the night ended with something you're not quite proud of, though. him, tending to you as you drunkenly spewed nonsense about how much you loved him, about how he was so perfect that you didn't come close to deserving him. you'd sobbed into his shirt as he let out a small chuckle and tucked you into bed, laying down next to you and brushed your hair out of your face. he'd fallen asleep smiling that night, not being able to wait for what was to come. 
dreams. fickle things, aren't they? it was hard to keep up with life if you chased after them too much, and it was hard to not chase after them because they were all you wanted from life. a college in tokyo was where you'd gotten accepted, and you'd sobbed into his chest so brokenheartedly at the train station when you were supposed to leave. he almost asked you to stay, but you had dreams. and he couldn't wait for you to fulfill them. 
you came back every chance you got. even if it was only for a day or two, you'd book the train tickets in an instant. christmas, new years, summer, spring—every single holiday was your opportunity to spend time with him, and you took it. the first two years were easy and understanding, like a new car with no bumpy wheels. the ride was stable, and it was bucolic in a sense. sweet and supple kisses to wake you up every morning, and a steady heartbeat to fall asleep to. 
you don't remember, however, how the fights started. the way screams and meaningless words were exchanged, hurtful things said in an almost hushed tone until you couldn't take it anymore. 
you didn't come back in winter in the fourth year. the final year, you'd taken up a job in tokyo as a grudge against him. and as he waited in the train station for you for hours, but you never came. 
missed calls and texts. they didn't exactly flood your phone because of him(he had called you twice and messaged you once, but you didn't reply to it), but because of your friends back in hyо̄go. miya osamu yelled at you for hours over a call which you'd made the mistake of answering right as you left work. and no, the things he said weren't exactly family-friendly, either. you yelled back, screaming at how you couldn't handle fighting with the person you loved whenever you came back home for vacations. but you were wrong, you knew it back then too. 
hyо̄go wasn't supposed to be a vacation. it was supposed to be your home. 
when you did come back, however, things only got worse. silence was all you received in return for your little stunt. and you'd now come back home for good, but things between you and him were like a paper beginning to rip from a notebook. 
and gradually, the paper fell off. a clean split. 
you still remember it—the look in his eyes as the two of you signed a paper that instigated that you were no longer together. your eyes were bloodshot and the man you were once sharing the most romantic words you could come up with looked at you with glassy eyes himself. 
you still remember the way kita shinsuke loved you. it was nothing but pure, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss it one bit. you looked back on those days with a bitter smile on your face as you looked out of your apartment in tokyo—which was where you'd fled to after the incidents.
dreams were sure a fickle thing.
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hello anon! thank you for participating in my event for 1k! if anyone else wants to do so, here’s the event masterlist for the rules!
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© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.
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anonthenullifier · 3 years
Note
Tommy get caught making out with his girlfriend pls
Thanks for the ask! I hope you enjoy!
———
With a soft click the last light on the main floor extinguishes, leaving Vision to bask in the serenity of lumenless solitude. It’s a simple joy he gets each night after the others are in bed. Satisfied with the main floor, he rises an inch off the ground, hovering above each step instead of touching it, ostensibly to keep the wood from creaking and waking either of the boys, but truthfully he finds it soothing. 
At the top of the stairs he glances to the right, checking that the doors are shut and the lights off, particularly the bathroom since Tommy has a habit of leaving everything illuminated. It is all blissfully shrouded in night. Vision’s lips curve ever so slightly up, the evening remarkably calm, no squabbles between their sons or unnecessary name calling. Even Tommy managed a mumbled Love you on his way up the stairs. It’s almost too calm. 
Vision shakes away the thought, not even certain where it came from, and begins to head towards his own bedroom. That’s when he hears a pathetic whine from behind, body whipping around until he spots the culprit. “Did he shut you out?” Sparky's ears perk up at the attention, little tail giving a forlorn wag. “That is an easy fix.” Vision hovers back to Tommy’s door and goes to open it, except the handle doesn’t move. “How odd.” They don’t have a locked room policy but neither of their sons has ever locked anyone (especially Sparky) out, likely because a locked door stands little chance against any of their powers. 
As if attuned to his own confusion, Sparky stares up at Vision, head cocked to the side in anticipation of his solution. He could easily phase the lock open, but privacy is a right he wishes to allow his sons. “I suppose you can sleep with us tonight,” the words are meaningless to the dog, head still held at an adorable forty seven degree tilt, one fine tuned to get treats and balls thrown. “Come along,” Vision nods towards the master bedroom, the joyful tapping of nails on the hardwoods hard not to smile at. When they get to the door, Vision sets a single cheeky ground rule, “Keep your paws off my wife, understood?” 
A little sniffle and wag of his tail accepts the rule and Vision opens the door, Sparky racing in and immediately leaping into the bed, trouncing across the duvet until he is laying with his head on Wanda’s stomach and paws on her arm. “Why hello there you handsome man,” Wanda pets his head and Vision provides a good-natured glare at the rule breaker who lacks any sense of regret, or so the lolling tongue suggests, “and hello to you as well Sparky.” Vision shouldn’t feel a sense of victory over a dog, but he can’t help it, especially when Wanda’s eyes alight in flirtatious glee that draws him to sit on the bed. 
“You can thank Thomas for our company.”
Her “Oh?” is cooed at the dog, who has flopped sideways for a belly rub, his back paws discourteously shoved into Vision’s pillow. 
“He locked him out.”
Wanda leans down so that her nose is almost touching Sparky’s as her fingers scrunch behind his ears. “That wasn’t very nice of him.” If one were to imagine the expression of a customer being pampered at the world's most luxurious spa, it would no doubt pale in comparison the overflowing exuberance on the dog’s face. “Probably safest not to be in there anyway.” 
The comment is said with an air of knowingness and a tinge of innuendo. Vision had not even thought about that possibility, truthfully he hadn’t even thought much of the door being locked but it’s likely not an unfair assumption, the boys are teens now, a time he has read is filled with raging hormones and exploration. Perhaps they’ll need to have another talk about boundaries if this becomes the norm.  For now he’ll simply not think anymore about it. 
“Sparky, may I,” he attempts to scoot the paws away from his pillow, but they spring back immediately, forcing Vision to lay down farther than he’d like from Wanda. “This is why he sleeps with Tommy.”
Wanda shrugs, still playing the role of world's best masseuse, “I’m comfy.” 
“That is a relief.” A throw pillow is tossed at his face with a flick of her wrist, except, having been married for so long and understanding the statistical patterns of her reactions, he is able to catch it, pointedly fluffing it before sliding it behind his neck. “Thank you, darling.” What he expects to see next is the purse of her lips, a sign she is striving not to laugh. Her lips are pinched together but there is no amusement to be found on her face, even her hand stalling in petting Sparky. “Is something wrong?”
A tilt of her head to the side sends his autonomic system into action. “Did you check the perimeter?”
“Of course.” He waits for more and when it stays locked behind her lips, he presses on. “Why?”
Scarlet wavers along the blanket, her fingers rising and falling like a puppeteer until she seems to reach a conclusion. “There’s an extra mind in Tommy’s room.” 
The locked door becomes menacing instead of a minor annoyance. “I will check the outside and you—“
“Inside, yep.” 
Vision leans back, phasing through the bed and the wall until he is eight feet above their deck. Through controlled trial and error he knows the best density for stealth, his molecules bursting into a frenzy until he is lighter than air. Only then does he dare fly towards Tommy’s window. It is wide open, concerning and not economical since it will increase their energy costs, not that it is a concern at the moment, but for later.  Window ajar. 
Door still locked. Confirmed second mind in his room. Not Billy. 
If Wanda recognized the mind, she would alert him. I will proceed inside. Vision breathes in, always wanting just a second to settle all raging thoughts, and then he phases into the room, Mindstone glowing faintly so as not to alert the intruder. With hushed breath, Vision inches forward, noting what appears to be Tommy on his side, pajama clad back facing him. 
Nothing seems amiss, other than the open window and extra mind. It is unsettling. Vision increases his auricular and ocular sensors as he continues to investigate, hands lifting into stance #5 of Natasha’s recommended hand to hand combat defenses.
There is a quiet smacking noise, a recognizable one though he can not place it, and then there is a...giggle, not belonging to his son. It is when he notices the splay of dark hair on the pillow that it all clicks. Oh. Vision begins to back up, not desiring to intrude further even if he also has this instinctive need to interrupt, but he quells that. 
I’m coming in. The three quarters of a second it takes him to process Wanda’s comment is half a second too long, his abort mission not arriving until after the door opens with a very noticeable click 
This is when everything erupts into chaos.
A pillow is thrown through his face simultaneously with a, “What the fuck, dad!” and what sounds like a shriek from Tommy’s bedfellow. Then a blur of green fills the room, Tommy grabbing onto Vision’s semi-transparent waist and hauling him towards the door, just as Vision’s politeness kicks in with a cheerful, “Terribly sorry for interrupting.”
And then they are in the hallway, the door shut behind Tommy, whose face is contorted in rage and breath is uneven. Wanda stands frozen, hands raised and shimmering, her eyes bouncing between Tommy and himself. Tommy only looks at Vision, voice shaking, “What are you doing coming through my wall?”
“Was that,” Vision mentally reconstructs everything as best he can, “was Lisa in there with you?”
All at once the anger is knocked off their son’s face and replaced with a completely fake innocence, “Who’s Lisa?” It doesn’t even take the entire time for Vision’s brows to rise for Tommy to realize the misstep. “I um meant, um,” 
Wanda doesn’t allow him to flounder, oddly. “Is she still in there?”
Perhaps it is the Young Avenger’s training on being interrogated or the fact Tommy’s thoughts are always racing away from responsibility, but he won’t even answer this question, “I don’t um know what you’re talking about.”
A deep, disappointed sigh comes from his wife before she wraps Tommy in red and drags him from the door. “I’m taking her home.” With that she disappears into the room, light peeking out from under the door and muffled words floating through the wood. 
All Vision can do is stare at Tommy, lost in what exactly to say in this situation. Unfortunately, Tommy doesn’t share the same hesitation. “You know Billy does this all the time,” the door to his twin’s room opens slightly, “he just can block mom’s powers from noticing” and then it shuts with an aggrieved click. Wonderful. 
“Um well,” Vision isn’t sure why he falters so gloriously, as a father he’s expected to handle these things and yet this wasn’t in the books he read while Wanda was pregnant nor in the literature on problem behaviors at school, “perhaps you help your mother take Lisa home and we will discuss this in the morning.”
-----
“I think we just ground him for a couple days,” the last word is muffled and more syllables than necessary, ending only when Wanda stifles her yawn. 
This is what she suggested before leaving to take Lisa home and what he has been mulling over until she returned. “But under what rule is he being punished?”
There is not actually any rule thus far uttered in the Maximoff household concerning sneaking in significant others. An oversight, clearly, and yet Vision knows that what happened is wrong, he just cannot find a suitable reason beyond that it feels wrong. “Curfew?”
This he considered. Unless otherwise specified, the boys must be back by 9pm on a school night and 12am on the weekends. “But he was home and we never explicitly specified that curfew applies to their friends or partners.”
Wanda does not suffer this sort of agonizing rumination, “He was hiding it, he knew it was wrong.”
A truth and annoyance because it’s not like they don’t allow their sons alone time when their significant other is over. He recalls and empathizes with the thrill of young love and the need for solitude. Which brings him to the next point of scrutiny, “But does it not feel hypocritical to punish him for this when we broke international law to do the same thing?” 
“I thought you said that was a false equivalency?”
It is, insofar as there are too many confounding variables for their lawbreaking tryst to be considered equal with the current indiscretion and yet…”Tommy will leverage it against us.”
“Good thing he doesn’t know how often we break compound PDA rules...”
Another hypocrisy if they hand down a harsh sentence. “Again, does it not feel incongruous to punish him when we commit the same offense? We did sully the billiard table last week…”
“That was fun.”
“It was.” The way she stretches out, head propped up on her hand and robe fluttering open along her thigh, he’d recidivate in a heartbeat. Which is why he stops his heart long enough to finish their conversation. “But how can we hold him to a higher standard than us, when we, as cognitively mature individuals act similarly? Authoritative parenting requires us to explain the logic of our punishments.”
Their eyes meet in joint contemplation, the weight of the topic forming endearing wrinkles on his wife’s brow. “You say we act similarly,” her voice is steady, distant as if it is hauling the reasoning in though isn’t sure it will make it, “but you always calculate our odds of being caught or harming someone else with our actions.”
It is a structural equation model he keeps to himself, one that even the thought of calculating sends electric thrills along his spine. “I do and we tend to have a threshold set of when it is and is not acceptable.” The billiard table, for instance, had an 87% chance of not being caught and, with proper sanitation, a relatively low impact on others. 
“Do you think Tommy put much thought into tonight?” Knowing their son the extent of effortful planning was likely how to get her into the house. “He seemed surprised when Lisa’s dad was furious.” 
Vision isn’t surprised at the man’s reaction but is perturbed that was not even a thought to Tommy. When entering all the variables into his model, Tommy had a dismal 10% chance of success and a rather high 87.5% chance of harming someone else. “How do we handle this alongside the accusation lobbed at Billy?”
Deviousness parts her lips, hair dancing along her shoulders as she nods, “I have a great idea.”
----
This formation, with mom and dad in the armchairs, hands linked over the chasm between the armrests, and Billy next to him on the couch is the formation of doom. The silence that lays heavy over the room is the warm up to the interrogation. Tommy braces himself for what’s to come. 
“Would you like to explain your reasoning for last night’s actions?” Dad is always so damn calm, irises not even budging to betray any sign of how bad this will go. 
Tommy knows there isn’t a right answer here, and honestly, he doesn’t exactly have a good reason and annoyingly Billy played dumb last night when he begged him for advice. Apparently throwing him under the bus was an asshole move. After the bad lie last night, Who’s Lisa a fantastic way to piss everyone off (especially Lisa), he defaults to short and sweet (fingers crossed) honesty. “Thought it would be fun.” It was, until dad interrupted. 
There’s no immediate response, not even a blink, the entire room focused on his continued idiocy. “I see.” That’s never what he wants to hear from dad. 
“You two have to understand that!” His arms sputter about, trying to drag their attention to what they all know. “At least I’m not breaking the law.”
Mom scowls. Shit. “Very different circumstances.” 
“Yeah, yours was way worse.” No no no, why can he not just shut up like Billy, that Grecian statue next to him, ramrod straight and eyes dead to the world. 
The shared look, one that means the infamous mind voodoo is at play, an entire conversation occurring between mom and dad that only he can’t access, assuming Billy is brave enough to tap into it. If he is, he’s not sharing with Tommy. “You are right.”
Wait…”What?”
Dad isn’t capable of something so casual as a shrug, but the leisurely blink of his eyes and dip of his chin is roughly equivalent. “We understand the reasoning. Your mother and I are intimately,” gross, “familiar with the thrill of skirting rules of affection.”
If this isn’t his punishment, heaven help him. “No details needed.”
Billy’s “Please,” is practically silent. 
Mom smirks and he fears the worst, until she speaks, “Which is why we aren’t grounding you,” hallelujah, “this time,” fair enough. “But going forward you can’t do this. Either of you.” 
An I hate you drops into his mind. Tommy tries to send back a No you don’t but Billy has already shuttered their connection. “Agreed, so…” Tommy stands from the couch, hands brushing away the discomfort of the meeting, “we’re good, right?”
Dad’s “No,” ties itself around his waist and yanks him back onto the cushion. “Given Lisa was not so fortunate in her punishment,” she’s been forbidden from seeing him again, but Tommy isn’t planning on abiding by that, assuming she wants to see him again, “I believe a long talk about respect for your partner and the need for consensual, in depth decision making when it comes to risk taking is in order. You both are still too young and cognitively immature to fully weigh impulsiveness and so we would like to walk through a variety of scenarios to work through this topic.”
He’d rather die. “Can I just be grounded instead?”
Scarlet outlines mom’s pupils as she stares him down, “No.”
Dad clears his throat, needlessly pulling a painfully thick packet of stapled papers from behind him. The transition into his academic voice is only the first sign that their torture will be unrelenting. “Scenario 1: you and your paramour are driving down the road when they suggest a rather risqué activity…”
Tommy accepts that today marks the loss of his soul and all ability to feel alive, all to the chorus of Billy’s reaffirmation in his mind: I hate you so much. 
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kinkykinard · 4 years
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Four Minutes
Fandom: 9-1-1. Pairing: implied Buddie. Word Count: 1454. Genre: angst. Rating: teen+. Summary: Eddie’s thoughts on the trip to the hospital after the explosion.  Spoilers for 2x17 and 2x18. Warning(s): mentions of Buck’s injuries. Note: my first ever Buddie fic!  Beta’d by @starshiphufflebadger​.  AO3 link here.  Link to part 2 here.
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“Hospital is four minutes away, okay?  Come on.”
Hen’s words were meant for Buck, but Eddie knew they’d be of little comfort as Buck slipped in and out of consciousness.  He could only imagine the pain Buck must have been feeling, and even just the thought of it was exhausting.  He couldn’t imagine living it.
It took only seconds for them to reach the ambulance, and Eddie stayed at Buck’s side as they loaded him into it.  As he watched Buck’s eyelids flutter, he decided that four minutes simultaneously sounded like an eternity and no time at all.  Time seemed to slip away, the seconds meaningless against the backdrop of his own frantic heartbeat.  
“Hang on, Buck, we’ve got you.”
The words didn’t seem to register, but the lurch of the ambulance as it started moving certainly did, drawing a raw, exhausted whimper of agony from Buck.  Eddie reached out, giving Buck’s arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance before rolling the shutter down on his emotions.  It was neither the time nor the place for any sort of sentiment if he had any hope of giving Buck his best chance at survival and recovery.
Tuning into the moment, Eddie instinctively started a secondary survey, looking for more subtle injuries as Hen got to work unbuttoning Buck’s shirt and applying monitor leads.  Eddie ran practiced fingers through Buck’s hair, looking for lumps and bumps.  His fingertips pressed on Buck’s collarbones, ribs, and sternum, eliciting no tenderness.  Buck’s belly was soft, his pelvis was stable, and his arms and legs were no worse for wear aside from his badly crushed ankle.  Eddie breathed a sigh of relief.
Eddie glanced up at the monitor as it came to life, capturing Buck’s too-quick, erratic heartbeat.  Normal PR interval, no peaked T-waves, no obvious signs that a deadly flood of potassium from Buck’s badly crushed tissues was wreaking havoc on his heart.  Not that it meant anything in the grand scheme of things; if Buck’s serum potassium rose too high too quickly, it might not cause any of the characteristic signs on his ECG.  At least the bicarb Hen had given earlier seemed to be holding him at the moment.
Compartmentalizing his worry over a potential cardiac event, Eddie stood and reached for some splinting supplies.  Stabilizing Buck’s leg wouldn’t relieve all of his pain but it would help, and with Hen already working on pain meds and monitoring, it was busy work that would help Eddie keep his mind off of how scared he was.
“Three more minutes, Buck.  We’re almost there.”
Eddie was grateful for Hen’s dialogue.  It helped him focus.  He exchanged a glance with her as he slipped a speed splint under Buck’s injured leg, hoping she hadn’t noticed the way his hands were shaking.  Eddie found that he didn’t care too much anyway as another groan of pain from Buck refocused him on the task at hand.
“Sorry, Buck,” Eddie murmured.  “I just need to stabilize this fracture.  I’ll be quick.”
Buck’s nod of understanding spurred Eddie on, and it wasn’t long before Buck’s leg was securely splinted.  With that said and done there wasn’t much left to do and Eddie could feel the anxiety starting to press in on him, unwavering and unrelenting.
He reached out and clasped Buck’s hand, carefully avoiding the pulse ox clip on Buck’s index finger.  He stroked his thumb over Buck’s knuckles in an attempt at reassurance that didn’t reach beyond the very surface.  There were still too many variables to count on Buck being out of the woods, but he didn’t need Buck picking up on his concern.
“How’re you doing, Buck?  Talk to me.”
“Have an orthopedic surgeon on standby.  Our ETA is two minutes.”
Eddie’s gaze left Buck’s face just long enough to watch Hen put down her mic after calling ahead to the hospital.  
“Hurts,” Buck breathed, his voice reedy.
Eddie’s attention returned to Buck and he squeezed Buck’s hand once more.
“I know, but it won’t hurt for much longer,” Eddie promised.  “They’ll give you the really good stuff as soon as we get to the hospital.”
Buck made a wordless noise of acknowledgment before slipping back into a fitful unconsciousness.  Eddie dropped his head, gritting his teeth together to ground himself.  He couldn’t afford to open the floodgates right then.  It didn’t matter that his best friend was injured, toeing a critical line.  It didn’t matter that the one person he had left in his life besides Christopher who he shared a real, deep connection with was fighting for his life.  It didn’t matter that he might never get the chance to explore the depth of that connection, of his feelings and Buck’s.
All the words Eddie had never had the chance to say were suddenly at the forefront of his mind.  Every time he’d had the opportunity to do something, to act on his feelings, to tell Buck how damn much he loved him.  Those unspoken words, unshared sentiments were like a weight on his chest and he reflexively reached up and pulled off his stethoscope, dropping it on the bench beside him to ease the feeling of claustrophobia that gripped him.
“Open your eyes,” Eddie urged him, his voice husky.  “Don’t check out on us now, Buck.”
On us, because if he said on me there would be no coming back from all those waiting feelings, their claws dug into him, a thousand pinpricks threatening to burst the tenuous hold he had on his self-control.  
“‘M fine,” Buck rasped.  “I’ll be okay.”
Even through the haze of pain and morphine Buck was trying to be the hero.  Eddie would have laughed if he wasn’t convinced the tears would come through, too.  Instead, he squeezed Buck’s hand yet again, earning himself a weak but determined squeeze in return.  A kind, reassuring gesture that almost broke him.
“We’re one minute out.”
One more minute.
Eddie could hold on one more minute.  His eyes flicked up to Buck’s chest and he watched the quick but steady rise and fall of Buck’s breathing.  If Buck could get through this, so could he.  He felt so stupid, so dramatic, but he’d never been particularly good at processing feelings, least of all when they were concerned with someone who mattered to him so deeply.
As Buck’s grip on his hand loosened, the draw of the morphine no doubt overwhelming him, Eddie slipped his fingertips up along Buck’s thumb, pressing them to Buck’s radial artery.  His pulse was still too fast, unsteady, but it was strong and vital and grounding.  Eddie focused on it, on the tactile reflection of Buck’s warrior spirit, willing his own heart to stop fluttering frantically behind his ribs like a frightened, caged bird.
Eddie’s head snapped up as the ambulance rolled to a stop, the back doors behind pulled open almost immediately by waiting hospital staff.  Like the civilians at the scene that had helped them lift the truck to free Buck, doctors, nurses, and orderlies milled around, ready to step in and help, to take over and do their part.
Dropping Buck’s hand, Eddie stood and hopped out of the ambulance, unlocking the stretcher and pulling it out.  The whole handover happened in the blink of an eye, and before he could so much as promise Buck that everything would be okay, he was gone.  The hospital doors were sliding shut in the trauma team’s wake and Eddie was staring after them, all of the fight in his body gone now that his job was done.
Hen walked over, putting a hand on his shoulder, silently offering support.  Distantly, Eddie knew that she’d been through the same thing he had, watching a friend go through what Buck had, but it wasn’t quite the same, he knew.  She would call Karen, have her come down for support, for company, and what was Eddie going to do?  Who was he going to call, to go home with at the end of the night?  He’d be brave for Christopher, sure, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep so much as one wink with Buck in the hospital.  
Eddie could feel nausea well in the pit of his stomach.  He could still smell the blood, the acrid tang of smoke and explosive residue from the scene.  He could hear sirens in the distance as the rest of the team raced over to join them, but none of it really penetrated the fog of anxiety clouding his mind.  As he stared blankly at the reflection of the ambulance’s flashing lights in the glass, Eddie couldn’t help but fear that those last four minutes, riding on the wings of words unsaid, would be the last they ever shared.
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itsmyara · 3 years
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Playing Cards (SFW Fanfic)
Pairing: Chrollo/Machi (yep!)
Word Count: 1.7 k
Warning: Hisoka acting psycho.
Note: I've recently talked about Kuromachi with @takkarulz and it reminded me of this VERY old fic. It was supposed to be the first chapter of a story about Hisoka's first mission with the Troupe but I don't think I'm gonna continue it. Oh, and it was originally written in Portuguese, so maybe something got lost in translation. I hope not but sorry if it did!
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The prey was aware of the bloodlust that emanated from his pores. Hisoka was bored when he felt that random aura and left in pursuit. Granted, it wasn’t a strong aura, but the relative abstinence made him lower his criteria. Any less-than-a-minute fight would offer some relief. The prey was already running ahead, looking back at him now and then in despair. He was sweating, breathing heavily, tripping over his own feet. It was a shame. Even so, the predator felt that in that aura there was an impulse to try to fight back, a courage that could spring from adrenaline and give him some precious extra time to live.
He focused entirely on instilling fear in him, as a favor to awaken that trace of hidden strength, and as a favor for his own sadism.
Fear and death roamed the desolate streets at night, accompanied only by concrete walls, garbage cans overturned by mangy dogs, and abandoned souls, drunken and empty, who wouldn’t dare to approach the source of that terrifying bloodlust.
Hisoka's expression was already inhuman.
The victim turned a corner, looked around, started to run faster. Perhaps he was close to home and struggled to reach it, with that false feeling that at home he would be safe. Poor fool. The predator licked his lips, he wouldn’t allow the prey to gain distance from him. In fact, he didn’t intend to let him free for too long.
Thirsty for action, Hisoka dashed and jumped to reach him faster but when he was in mid-air, something stopped his body, suspending it far from the ground, and a third presence was revealed. A woman fell gracefully in front of him and as soon as her feet touched the ground, her hands pulled a thread, making him realize that the trap had tightened around his body.
The pink-haired woman boldly stepped between him and his victim, and when she looked up and glared at him, her blue eyes were unfazed by his bloodlust. The victim stopped for a moment to try to understand what had happened, but he wasn't stupid enough to stay.
Soon it was only he and her.
Hisoka smiled and sought a comfortable position within her trap. It was worth exchanging the weak prey for that woman who either mastered zetsu very well or knew how to take advantage of his distraction to catch him. Either way, she was incomparably stronger.
“Well, well... and who are you?” His voice sounded mischievous as his eyes sparkled, studying her carefully.
She kept him in her threads without difficulty, as they crossed the deserted street trapped to the side of two buildings, forming a web that closed around him in the center. A spider web. She was skilled and agile to prepare that engineering in such a short time. Besides this, she also had that delightful demeanor. So under control. So cold. So full of an unshakable self-confidence. It wasn’t someone to be thrown away. Maybe he would keep her to play with, little by little, instead of killing her at once.
“I have a message from the boss,” when she said those words, Hisoka understood and closed his eyes. He definitely would have to save her for later. “Midnight at the sanctuary of St. Levi. If you’re too busy hunting mice, you will suffer the consequences.”
A crooked smile grew on the magician's face. Suffering the consequences was what he wanted the most, but not in the way they used to apply them.
“Will the boss be there?” He asked, but his question was ignored.
“I think you can get out of there alone.”
It was the last thing she said before disappearing into the night.
There was a possibility that Chrollo would attend the meeting, but there was also the possibility that it would end up being just another spiders’ meeting that would kill him with boredom at once. He had recently joined the Phantom Troupe for a single purpose, and so far he had successfully avoided childish robberies and meaningless missions, no matter who showed up to try to intimidate him.
An Ace of Hearts took shape between his fingers and he used it to slash the tangled threads that held him. To his surprise, not all of them broke on the first blow, demanding one or two more hits for him to break free completely.
He thought that maybe this time it would be worth it to show up at the meeting if she were there.
***
Their current hideout was a mansion away from the city and with a reputation for being haunted. The abandonment of the building made it cold and fragile, but there was a certain beauty in all those aged memories left by the corners, and in the way nature was taking over the place little by little. In a few years, the creeping plants will probably take it over completely.
Machi entered through the backdoor absolutely quietly, just in case. Soon she realized that there was someone in the basement and she walked down the stairs, equally silent, to find Chrollo sitting on an old wooden chest. By candlelight, he analyzed something on a table in front of him.
“Fascinating... whoever lived here, was someone impressive. It is not by chance that this house has a reputation for being haunted,” he whispered when she approached but kept his gray eyes fixed on the objects spread on the table.
In that room, Machi noticed opaque crystals, rusty metal objects that were supposed to serve very specific uses, animal skulls with horns, and some books so old and yellow that she thought they would turn to dust if she looked at them for too long. She stood next to the boss and realized that what captured his attention were cards, similar to a playing deck, but more numerous and richly illustrated even though -- like everything in that basement -- they were in dull colors.
“Did these objects serve any ritualistic purpose? They must be flooded with nen,” the energy of the place was somewhat obscure, and she thought that maybe this is why he felt comfortable there.
“I haven’t found any trace of nen in this basement,” he said, causing a brief expression of surprise in her. Fascinating, really.
Chrollo finally looked at her, his expression calm and pleasant. His eyes were more mysterious and dark than the energy of the place. By far more fascinating. Eyes that caused her the same feeling, again and again, after so many years.
Perhaps because she was so close that he could feel that commotion inside of her, or perhaps because he was feeling comfortable in that environment, he placed one hand on her waist, while the other held some cards.
“Sit here with me, as we used to do when I read to you,” he said, invoking the past and leading her gently so that she sat on his right thigh.
The memory stirred the feelings inside her even more. She was so young when she found him, a beautiful, intelligent and kind boy, as young as she was, who talked to her, played with her, and cared for her. Chrollo was always different from everyone else. He had ended up awakening in her still innocent heart that dream that he was a prince charming and that they would marry someday, even marriage being such an abstract concept in Meteor City. It turned out that the commitment she had made to him was far greater than that of a marriage.
Enjoying the moment, she rested her arm around his shoulders and studied the cards ahead more closely now.
“Are these tarot cards?” She asked, vaguely recognizing a couple of drawings.
“Yes, it’s the most valuable thing I’ve found here. The style is so unique, each card is a work of art by itself.”
Her eyes met an Arcana and she leaned over to pick it up, almost instinctively. The Fool, with his extravagant clothes and gestures, looking at the horizon from the edge of the abyss, projecting himself to it with nothing to hold him back -- from the infinite fall or from the flight to the horizon. Her intuition led her to believe it would be the first option.
“How was it with him?” Chrollo asked, noticing the card she was looking at so attentively.
“He's strong, I ended up having to set a trap with more aura than I've expected,” she replied almost automatically, only managing to return the card at the end of the sentence.
“He wouldn't have listened to you any other way.”
"No," she confirmed, and then they looked at each other. “The decision is yours, danchou, but I wouldn’t trust him.”
“This is why you didn't bring him here. You’ve decided to wait until tomorrow.”
Chrollo hadn’t told her to take Hisoka to him, he had left the option in the hands of her interpretation. Since the magician was one of them, he belonged -- in theory -- to that place with them, and it would have been natural for her to invite him. But it wasn’t.
Machi knew that sometimes Chrollo let her interpret his orders because he trusted her judgment. And in addition to not having taken him to the boss, she also left promptly so as not to be followed.
“You have been more receptive to new members before,” he said softly.
And the fact that he pulled her to him gently to place a kiss on her temple softened his speech even more.
“Sorry, he seemed to have a special interest in you,” she spoke in a slightly serious tone. Intuition. Concern.
Something that made him snicker as his free hand touched her hair.
“Don’t worry too much, Machi.”
That was the end of the subject brought up by the card. Soon he would touch her thigh and his hand would roam her body. Soon he would show her how comfortable he felt, to the point of allowing himself to enjoy the tenderness that Machi dedicated to him right from her lips, her skin, and her embrace.
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Once upon a time in NYU- MGG AU
Fandom: MGG, Criminal Minds
Pairing: College!Matthew X College!Reader
Summary: you couldn't stand Matthew, and he couldn't stand you. But you couldn't say the same when you were in his bed
Warnings: alternative universe, enemies to lovers relationship, cursing duh, hair pulling, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bad writing basically
WC: 6.1k 
A/N: so I saw I think it was @eideticmemory​ write an enemies to lovers college fic and like a light just went on in my head, and I really wanted to that because I've always wanted to, but also give it my own twist and touch of course, so I guess this my attempt at writing a multi-chapter Matthew fic. Will I succeed? Probably not. But it's a good excuse to write smut after a year so we'll see. ALSO HUGE TW I understand posting this now might be a bit of a bad timing. So if you think that reading this will trigger you in any way, just go ahead and skip this one. I dont want to trigger anyone in any way, I just want to entertain you guys and myself in the process so yeah, read at your own risk and please please stay safe. And this is going to be a bit long so strap in yall and enjoy the poorly written sin. 
Andddd huge huge thanks to my friend Kara (idk if shes reading this but yeah) for helping me edit this, she helped me make this so much better for you guys and she literally so amazing for actually spending the time to help me. So yeah, 
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You know when something bad happens, you’re always told to see the bright side of things? That maybe that unfortunate event isn’t as bad as you feel it is? Yeah, well, that doesn’t always apply, and it certainly didn’t when I found out I was partnered with the one person I was hoping I wouldn’t get paired with for my end of the semester film project. 
Seriously, out of the nearly hundred students that were enrolled in my film class, I had to get paired up with him, him out of all people, literally the one person I was praying wouldn't get paired up with. Not only because I was forced to work with someone, because honestly all I wanted was to work alone, I had to get paired with Matthew fucking Gubler.
You know when people say God has his favourites? Yeah, well I certainly wasn't one of them.
Now, I didn’t necessarily hate Matthew Gubler. I didn't hate him for no reason, I didn't just wake up one day and decided I was just going to hate Matthew. There was a time where I actually liked him, I liked him more than I'd like to admit, deep down I still did. And I knew he liked me too, he did then at least. And we were good together, it was fun, we had a fun first couple of dates. To this day, they were the nicest dates I ever had, because he knew just how to make them special. I mean, when a guy takes you to the Neue Galerie here in New York and have nice long walk through Central Park, a walk filled with laughter and bliss, it has to be special, and in a weird way, he was special too. 
And as much as I wanted more than just two or three dates, I would've been perfectly fine if he had told me what he wanted from the start. If he had suddenly changed his mind about me, I would've accepted it, and I would've been able to live a happy life as his friend if that's what he wanted.
But he didn't, and instead I found out he had other interests. And I didn't hear it from him, I heard it from my friend. She didn't even need to tell me who it was, because the minute she told me where he took her, I knew. He took her to the same place he took me not even two weeks later and then acted like I was nothing the next time he saw me. And my god did that fucking hurt. It hurt me in a way I had never been hurt before, because I thought he was different, I was hoping he was. And convincing myself that I hated him was much easier than facing the fact that it hurt. And I never addressed it ever again, not that Matthew cared enough to actually talk about us, or, whatever we were. So instead we just made each other's existence miserable.
No, what I felt for Matthew wasn't hate, it was just the strong need to stay ten feet away from him so I wouldn't shove a five foot pole up his ass. That's how I felt about Matthew Gubler.
And now, here I was, aggressively shoving my laptop and notebook into my bag so I could leave the auditorium as quickly as possible, or at least quick enough to avoid Matthew, because knowing how he was, he would come straight to me to rub our partnership in my face. And I was right, because the minute we were dismissed, I spotted his lanky frame starting to come down from the top rows where he usually sat, and he was headed my way.
Screaming a big nope in my head, I strapped my bag over my shoulder and headed straight for the exit. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever, especially now but, I just needed a minute to mentally prepare myself to deal with him, a minute and probably a bottle of booze. But I didn't get either because the minute I was out those doors, I heard the unmistakable sound of his voice calling my name. 
Great.
"Y/N! Y/N wait!" I heard Matthew call out, followed my rushed footsteps coming from behind me.
"Hey, partner, I'm glad I caught you before you left. You weren't trying to run away from me were you?" He teased, throwing one of his particularly long arms over my shoulder.
If I had rolled my eyes any harder they probably would've gotten stuck there. I groaned, grabbing a hold of his arm and unwrapping it not so subtly before dropping it beside him, "first of all, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't touch me,  and second of all, just please go away, Matthew. I have a class I have to get to." I muttered, walking slightly faster and keeping my gaze forward, refusing to even look at him.
If there was something I've learned about Matthew in the two long years I've known him is that he usually goes away on his own if I don't give him the attention he wanted. I was hoping this was one of those times, because I was not in the mood to deal with him right now.
But alas, he didn't, he walked faster, staying beside me the whole time. "But I wasn't even doing anything. I was just saying hi." He defended, and I could just hear the smile on his face even when I wasn't even looking at him. 
I rolled my eyes harder, letting out a small breath through my lips, "what do you want Matthew?"
"When can we meet up? I already have an idea for our project and I think you're going to love it."
I chuckled sarcastically, finding his words actually hilarious, "If you came up with it I seriously doubt it." I sighed heavily, digging my teeth into my bottom lip before speaking, "tonight after I finish my shift, I guess. The quicker we can start, the quicker we can get it over with, soo..."
"Great. It's a date then, see you tonight, sweetheart." He hummed, ghosting his lips over my ear, his lips smacking loudly as he pretended to kiss it before he quickly took off in the other direction before I could even say anything.
This fucking guy.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I seriously do not understand how you fucking dated this guy, he's so obnoxious and annoying, how could anyone want to date someone like that." I complained to my friend and roommate Liz. I met her for a quick lunch break before my afternoon class and I just had to let her know how unhappy I was about my partnership with Matthew. She was amused to say the least.
"You make it sound like we dated for years, we dated for a few months, but he's not even that bad." she argued.
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest and leaned back into my seat with an unamused expression, just waiting for Liz to bury herself further up Matthew's ass. I always had the feeling she still had feelings for him, as much as she insisted it was just a meaningless relationship. And as much as they were just friends now, I just knew she wanted more with him. But it wasn't really my place to question that, not that it mattered to me anyway.
"He's a pretty cool and fun guy to be around, you just never gave him a chance. You've hated him ever since you met him for absolutely no reason, you never gave yourself the chance to get to know him better." Liz insisted, she always did. She always insisted Matthew was such a great guy I never gave the change to get to know. 
I had let out a heavy sigh in annoyance of her defense of Matthew before responding, "yeah well, it doesn't really matter since I'm being forced to anyway. And he's coming over tonight to start our project. Can't fucking wait."
I could've sworn I saw Liz's expression change into a mixture of surprise and something I could've easily confused with jealousy. She pursed her lips together and her eyes darted everywhere, like she was avoiding making any kind of eye contact with me.
But, it couldn't be jealousy? What even is there to be jealous of? Her and the whole world knew how I felt about Matthew, her out of all people knew it better than anyone.
"Oh, he is? Well, I'm not really going to be home tonight, I would've given you company so it wouldn't be so awkward with him." She frowned, she sounded disappointed, angry even. She looked uncomfortable, like she was deeply bothered by something, by something I said.
It was weird, I wasn't exactly sure what to say, I wasn't really sure why my news seemed to bother her as much as it did. It's not like I was going to sleep with Matthew while she was away or something. It didn't really matter though, I didn't have time to answer. Thank God.
"I'm sorry Liz but I have to go, I have class in like ten minutes." I excused myself, eating whatever was left on my plate in a matter of seconds before I stood up from my seat and gathered my belongings, "I'll see you later and wish me luck." I said quickly before taking off, not giving her the chance to respond.
~~~~~~~~~~
Usually, I pray for shifts to be over as soon as possible, for it to be slow so I can go home early. Today though, today I prayed for just the opposite. I was hoping the end of my shift wouldn't come, and when it did, that it would be too late and I would be able to cancel my meet up with Matthew.
But like I said, I wasn't one of God's favourites. And today out of all days, it was the slowest it has ever been and my shift ended rather quickly, quicker than I had hoped.
Groaning loudly at the evening that awaited me, I walked down the long halls of my floor, standing outside of my dorm room, dreading my evening already.
Figuring I should just get it over with, I went to get the key on the lock of my door, but noticed it was already unlocked. Liz probably forgot to lock the door, again. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at my stupid roommate before turning the knob, opening the door. And my jaw dropped the minute I stepped into the room, not believing what my eyes saw.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
"Matthew, what the fuck are you doing in my dorm and in my bed!? How did you even get in here?" I nearly screamed at the tall brunette that was carelessly laying on my bed with what I figured was one of my books in his hand.
Matthew turned his head towards me, a carefree and calm look plastered all over his face before his eyes went back to the pages in front of him., "oh, well, Liz let me in before she went to work. I hope you don't mind." He responded nonchalantly, continuing to flick through the pages of the book he had in his hand.
I stared at him with absolute disbelief and a loud scoff left my lips as I slightly pitched the bridge of my nose, trying not to throw the nearest object at his face, "yes, I do mind, in fact. You can't just come into somebody's dorm, lie on their bed and go through their stuff. Seriously dude, what is wrong with you?"
I just couldn't believe this guy. He just knew how to get on my nerves without even doing anything. 
Matthew, of course, couldn't have cared any less about whatever I was saying. And it wasn't that he wasn't listening, because he was, he had that stupid smile on his face that proved he was in fact listening to every word I was saying. He just didn't care, or he did, but he just liked getting on my nerves. He loved pushing every single one of my buttons until I snapped. And I had no idea why. I had no idea why he liked annoying me so much.
I exhaled heavily through my nose, closing my eyes slightly as I ran a hand through my hair exasperatedly, "I just can't fucking deal with you. I can't." I huffed, dropping my bag from my shoulder and walked to the opposite side of my room, facing away from him, not even wanting to look at his face.
"Tell me something, sweetheart," Matthew spoke, curiosity and a slight bit of amusement lingering on his words.
"What."
"Why do you hate me so much? You've hated me ever since I dated Liz back in our first year of college and I never truly understood why," he questioned with genuine curiosity, but there was also a certain playfulness in his voice. I opened my mouth to answer, still not facing him, and I was so ready to tell him off, god knows I've been wanting to but he cut me off. "Is it because I never slept with you?"
My eyes instantly widened at his words, a clearly offended scoff leaving my lips as I turned around to face him, "what? No, of course not, I—" my words got caught in my throat when I saw his tall frame towering over me, my eyes getting stuck on his chest before they traveled up to his face, and he was close. Extremely close. I swallowed thickly, feeling slightly cornered by his significantly taller frame so I stepped back, trying to create some kind of distance between us, but he simply followed me. "I, uhm, that's not why I don't like you, Matthew. I don't like you because you're an insensitive asshole and—"
"Oh, I know why you hate me," he cut me off again, slowly running his tongue to wet his perfectly pink lips. "You hate me because I dated Liz and not you."
His proclamation made my eyes grow even wider and my mouth hung open as I stammered for words. I wanted to disagree, I truly wanted to tell him that he was wrong. But honestly, he wasn't altogether wrong. I couldn't say some of my resentment didn't come from a deep rooted feeling of rejection. Because while most of that resentment came from that place of genuine hurt, my resentment was fueled by frustration and a shameless sense of envy.
But it was just easier to convince myself that I hated him than to admit that I still liked him and that it hurt me that he chose my friend over me.
But of course, I would never admit to that, especially not to him.
Avoiding eye contact, I looked down and shook my head, running my tongue to wet my suddenly dry lips, "of-of course not. Why—why would I care about your dating life? You can fuck whoever you want, I don't care." I wish I sounded more confident when I said that. But my stuttering words and my unsteady legs gave him exactly what he wanted.
And the bastard actually chuckled. He fucking chuckled.
"But you do, you do care. You care because you haven't stopped thinking about us and me since our first year." He grinned, digging his teeth into his perfect lips as he brought a hand to cup my face, lifting it so I had no other choice but to look at him.
And I was fucking gone.
It was like, all of that anger, frustration and hatred just vanished and instead turned into longing want. Want for him to just take me and do whatever he pleases with me. I was practically nothing in his hands, and I was nothing waiting for him to make me something. Waiting for him to make me his.
And that absolutely delighted the bastard. He found amusement in having the power I never allowed him to have. But right now, I just couldn't fight it.
I always knew that if I ever found myself alone and in this situation with Matthew Gubler, I would lose, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise.
And he knew that too.
"That's it, isn't? You want me to fuck you like I fucked your friend." He smirked, almost like he was proud to say it. And he stared, his usually soft amber eyes now brown and darkened with want.
Who the fuck was this guy and where did Matthew go? Matthew Gubler was the most awkward and disgraceful guy when it came to women. The poor guy couldn't even flirt his way out of a wet paper bag. And yet, somehow, here he was, with this new found confidence and the ability to turn me into a shaking and stuttering mess. Who fucking knew.
Once again, I stammered for words, I truly wanted to tell him otherwise. I wanted to scream in his face and push him away, but I couldn't. Not that I wanted to.
He took my lack of response as the answer he was looking for and brought his other hand to my waist, backing me up against the nearest wall, caging me between the hard surface behind me and his body, which right now, seemed so much bigger than mine.
My breathing instantly skyrocketed as I felt the same hand that was on my waist sneak its way past the ends of my dress and up my bare thighs, ones that shook like an earthquake as the pads of his fingers slowly rubbed the tense skin. Like he was testing the waters. Testing how well my body reacted to his touch.
And it wasn't subtle. At all.
"W-what—what are you doing?" I almost squealed, my voice practically betraying me.
"Oh? Well, I'm just giving you what you wanted. I'm giving you what you've been wanting for years." He stated so casually, like he had no idea what he was doing to me. And just as casually, he slowly ran a finger over the thin cotton fabric of my underwear, touching me, but definitely not in the way I needed to be touched.
I wished my body didn't betray me like it did though. I couldn't even hold back the breathy moan that escaped my lips when his fingers made contact with the thin material. But Matthew certainly loved the response I gave him.
"Because this is what you've been wanting, isn't it? You've been thinking about how my fingers would feel buried inside your little cunt. Or how good you would feel around my cock." He taunted, it was almost cynical just how easily those filthy words rolled off his usually reserved tongue. "I'm not gonna lie, I've thought about it too, you have no idea how many times I've thought about having your filthy mouth wrapped around me. Or how pretty you would look begging me for more." 
I opened my mouth to speak but my words instantly got caught in my throat when the sneaky bastard pulled the fabric to the side and dipped his fingers into the soaking mess that was my core.
And if there were any rational thoughts still hanging in my head, all of those just went straight out the window when another moan erupted from my throat and my head fell back into the wall behind me.
"See just how much easier things are when you just shut the fuck up and stop fighting so much?" He almost whispered, his lips ghosting over the skin on my neck as a lithe finger gathered my wetness and spread it over my clit.
Despite being a complete whimpering mess at that point, I managed to spit out a surprisingly harsh, "fuck you." 
It was a pretty convincing retort. One that didn't exactly have the effect I hoped for though.
I could feel him smirk into my neck as his lips left wet and sloppy kisses into the skin before he pulled back, just so he could see the look of utter want and frustration on my face.
"Hm, sorry sweetheart, I can't do that. I'm too busy trying to fuck you instead."
I swear to god, he was the biggest asshole I have ever met in my entire fucking life. But he was an asshole who immediately slipped two of his sinfully long fingers into my dripping core. I instantly choked on my own breath as he began working his fingers around the muscles, stroking the digits inside me at an agonizingly slow pace.
"Because that's what you want don't you sweetheart? You want to me to fuck you into that mattress until you can't keep your eyes open?" He continued, his filthy words making me pant like I ran for fucking miles. "I do too, trust me I do. And I will, I promise. But I want to make up for all of the lost time. Don't you?"
I wasn't even paying attention to whatever filthy proclamations were coming out of Matthew's mouth, with my eyes nearly closed, my mouth slightly open and my mind only focusing on his fingers working diligently inside me, how could I?
But Matthew was expecting an answer this time. Because I could feel his darkened eyes glare into my face and his fingers immediately stilled inside me. Earning a loud whine from me.
"I asked you a question, answer me."
It took me a minute to remember his question before I quickly nodded, "yes! Yes! Is that what you wanted to hear?" I nearly screamed at his face, my hands coming to clutch his shirt, needing something to relieve some tension.
"I want to hear you say it. Say it, tell me you want me." He demanded, his eyes locking with mine as he waited for what he wanted to hear.
He wanted me to beg, he wanted me to give up that control I never allowed him to have. And was I going to?
Absolutely.
I needed to.
"I want you, Matthew, I want you to take me and fuck me into that mattress until I can't walk straight. Please."
I guess that was the answer Matthew had been looking for because his fingers immediately began to work diligently inside me again, stroking the digits until he had me whimpering and begging for release.
It wasn't long before my head started to spin and stars began to blur my vision. Words were no longer an option at that point, nothing would come out, not even Matthew's name. All I could manage to let out were pathetic, strangled moans. But he could tell I was close, or I figured that much because his fingers only worked faster around my tightening walls, determined to finish me.
"C'mon sweetheart, come for me." he encouraged through gritted teeth as his fingers were anything but still inside me and his palm applied a crushing pressure into my front. And even when my eyes were half closed and my mind had turned into dust, I could see the look of utter determination on his face, his eyebrows were furrowed as his teeth dug into his perfectly plump lips. It was like his only focus was on driving me over the edge. And he succeeded.
The second his fingers curled, I was fucking gone. My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I cried out his name like a praise, my body nearly spasming against the wall. But his fingers didn't stop until my whole body shook to the point where my legs no longer supported my weight and I practically slid into the wall as I tried to catch my breath.
It was almost dizzying just how quickly Matthew withdrew his fingers from me and hoisted me up on his slim torso. He wasted absolutely no time in striding over to my bed across the room. My whole body collided with my bed so quickly and forcefully it knocked the air out of my chest.
Matthew was practically ripping away his clothes before I could even sit up or catch my breath. Like he had this urgency to do what I've been avoiding for the past two years. Like he needed to do it, right now, like something would happen before he got the chance to.
"Matthew—"
"Shut up, I've heard enough shit from you for the past two years, and I'm fucking tired of it." He almost growled, his usually soft voice coming out so low and dark it actually stroked fear in my heart. It was scary just how quickly his demeanor changed.
Matthew didn't really waste much time in discarding his clothes, he was down to only his boxers and was on top of me before I could even blink. He brought a hand to my chest and he pushed me down until my back was flat on the bed, but his hand stayed there, pinning me there as he hovered over me, trapping my significantly smaller body under his own.
He wasted no time in grabbing a hold of my dress and pulling it over my head. And I could've sworn I saw pure awe and infatuation flash through his eyes as they shamelessly eyed over my newly exposed skin. Come to think of it though, this was the first time I was this naked in front of him, and even then, I wasn't fully naked. Not yet anyway.
After a good minute, his eyes flickered back up to meet with mine, his previous look of awe quickly replaced by this feral look of want and pure desire. And I couldn't say it didn't excite me to see it.
He brought a hand to my face, running his smooth fingers over my face with a surprising amount of delicacy before he deep rooted them into my hair and slightly tilted my head back before he brought his face into mine, our lips crashing into a deep fervent kiss. I didn't realize we have never actually kissed. No wonder there was so much desperation and hunger within that kiss. We've been wanting this ever since we met, and ironically, I wanted it more.
His mouth was harsh and fervent against mine, his tongue wasting no time before it quickly slipped between my lips without much of a warning. His tongue explored every inch of my mouth and took as much control as he wanted to as he brought one of his hands to discard my brassiere, he struggled a bit at first but he managed to unhook it and discarded the flimsy material along with the rest of forgotten clothes. He pulled back to capture the image of my newly exposed skin. And he wasn't subtle, at all.
I almost felt intimidated under his deep and penetrating gaze as he shamelessly ogled my exposed body. I was completely exposed to him, completely vulnerable and right now, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with me. And that scared me, it scared me just how quickly he took control over me after years of fighting against it.
With a hard swallow and a bob of his Adam's apple, Matthew slowly licked his lips, scraping his teeth against his slightly swollen bottom lip in a way that almost made me roll my eyes back into my head. But I didn't, instead I just locked eyes with him as he brought his face down and wrapped his lips around one of my breasts and his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud almost expertly, using one of his hands to toy with the other.
"O-oh fuck." I couldn't help but helplessly moan into the air as my hands found their way into his mop of brown curls. This reaction certainly delighted the bastard above me because I could feel his eyes burning into my face and his lips curving into a smirk around me before he slowly pulled back, latching on to my nipple as he pulled off it.
"You have a very filthy mouth, jeez." He tisked, slightly shaking his head disaprovingly but still had that fucking smirk of his.
Clearly, I wasn't amused, in the slightest, so his stupid comment earned him a nice and concise, "fuck you." 
But then again, it didn't have the effect I hoped for.
"Mhm, yeah, you're about to." He retorted one last time before bringing his face back up to mine, capturing me in a heated and messy kiss that only worked as distraction from the journey Matthew's hands took down south. I was only brought back to reality when I felt my underwear being ripped away and the cool air hitting me. And he was quick to pull down his own boxers and allowed his length to spring free. And I couldn't even play off the fact that I had to stare, my mouth slightly hanging open at the sight of him.
"You're so cute when you stare." He taunted, his words being fairly tame in contrast to his very dark and not innocent tone. The sound of his voice made me flicker my eyes to meet his face. Big mistake, because the borderline devious smirk on his face didn't help, at all. And it certainly didn't help when he positioned himself between my legs, rubbing himself on my already dripping heat.
"You do have condoms here, right?" He asked, but I wasn't paying attention, with him rubbing himself on my slick, I couldn't really pay much attention to anything. "I could just fuck you bareback, I'm clean, so I don't care. But it's up to you." He spoke again, slightly teasing my entrance with the tip of his length, hoping to actually get my attention, and I actually listened this time.
Biting my lip, I mentally cursed at my lack of sexual activity because it just so happened that I had no condoms. Matthew gave me an expectant look, not to pressure me, but just waiting impatiently. I knew if I told him to stop he would without a second thought, but he would just leave. I wasn't going to make that mistake twice.
"I'm clean too, just," I chewed on my bottom lip, already shuddering with anticipation as I hooked my legs around his slim torso, pulling him closer, "just take me, please just fucking take me already."
I didn't have to say it twice.
Without a second thought, he propped himself up on his arms and pressed his face against mine as he slammed into me in one swift motion. A strangled moan erupted from my throat as he buried himself to the hilt, stretching me open at once. And fuck, the feeling of him inside me was intoxicating, addicting even, I don't think I've ever felt like this before.
This was so fucking wrong. So wrong, so wrong to be fucking the guy my friend dated, so wrong to be fucking the guy I swore to everyone I hated. It was just wrong. So why the hell did it feel so right? It was so perfectly right the way our bodies felt together, like they simply belonged there, buried deeply within one another. I never wanted to stop feeling like this.
It was almost dizzying just how good he felt. And with the quick and fervent pace he set for himself right from the start, I knew I probably wouldn't last long. With my eyes rolled into my head, my open mouth and my body sprawled out on the bed as I tried to find something to hold on to, he probably had one hell of a view. And he enjoyed it too, because his thrusts only became harsher.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking beautiful," he cursed through gritted teeth, his hands holding my hips down with a vice like grip, making sure I couldn't move. And it wasn't for lack of trying. My body shook and shuddered like a fucking earthquake around him but he simply held me down as he continued.
"You feel so good too. I can't believe you made me wait two fucking years for this. Fuck." He nearly shouted, slamming into me with an insane amount of force and clenched his eyes shut, almost as if the thought made him angry, "two fucking years to take what was mine."
His. He called me his.
Fuck, I wish those filthy words didn't have such a strong effect on me, but boy did they make a number on me. I couldn't even hold back the guttural cry that erupted from my chest as I nodded feverishly, not really realizing what I was nodding to. 
"Yes! Fuck yes, Matthew, I'm yours!" I almost screamed, saying whatever incoherent thoughts flashed through my mind, letting the whole floor know just how much fun I was having and with whom. And with my mind and thoughts being too clouded by the feeling of him, I didn't even think about what those words entailed.
But it didn't matter because they served their purpose regardless. I wasn't expecting just how much the words actually affected him, because his hips began to falter, his thrusts becoming longer but impossibly deeper. And I could see how concentrated he was, with sweat forming on his forehead, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and his breath was hard and short, like this was a task he was determined to finish. He was determined to ruin me.
Letting out a guttural and nearly animalistic groan, Matthew grabbed a hold of my hips and raised them so that each thrust would make him bottom out inside of me, knowing just how close we both were to our release. "Yeah, that's right, sweetheart, let the whole floor know who's making you feel this good," he growled as he gave one last final but brutal thrust, digging his fingers into my hips so tight I just knew I would have bruises tomorrow as he held me down on him, "let the whole floor know you're mine."
And just like that, my orgasm crashed into me, Matthew's harsh words of ownership sending me into a euphoric state of pleasure, my lips chanting his name like a mantra and my walls tightening around him as he came deeply into me, my own name rolling off his tongue in a quiet praise. And the utter and absolute look of ecstasy on his face made up for the bruises I would have to hide for the next few days and for the two years we've made each other's life a living hell. Because right now, seeing that look of being completely fucked, I just wanted nothing more than to just stay like this.
The second we were no longer blinded by our highs, he fell forward, nearly crushing me under his weight as he struggled to get himself up. Yeah he looked fucked alright. Despite knowing damn well he could've easily rolled off me, he didn't, he simply rested his head on my chest and closed his eyes like he was just going to sleep there. A small smile made its way to my lips at the sight of his tousled brown curls on my chest, ignoring all logic, I ran my fingers through the messy locks, and they were in fact as soft as they always looked. 
Realizing just how bad this was for me, and just how vulnerable I actually looked, I smacked his forehead, successfully earning a glare from him once he lifted his head, looking dead at me with his now soft amber eyes.
"You're crushing me, you ass, get off." I breathed out and rolled my eyes, being too exhausted to try and get him off myself. And knowing just how easily he corrupted me, I didn't need another thing to make this harder.
"Okay, okay, jeez." Matthew rolled his eyes, letting his head back into my chest exhaustively and groaned tiredly into my chest before he gathered just enough strength to roll off me and collapsed beside me, his reddened and sweaty chest still rising and falling unevenly as he was still trying to steady his breathing. And I was trying, too. And we just stared, we stared at each other, saying nothing. There was nothing to be said. It was better that way.
After a long long while of silently staring at each other, he brought a hand to my face and rested it there, his thumb mindlessly rubbing over the warm skin of my cheek and he smiled, he simply smiled. And it felt good, it felt comforting, sweet even, it was a funny contrast after what he just did to me.
"So.. About our project.."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list:
Matthew Gray Gubler
All- @aberrant-annie @marauder-exe @vquezada84 @boiled-onionrings @writeronkeyboard @l0ve-0f-my-life @mariaramz @soederberg
OUaT in NYU-
So I'm starting a tag list for this fic because it will be a mini series so let me know if you'd like to be added to the once upon in NYU tag list
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vampiregirl1797 · 4 years
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Long Time, Time to See
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Jasper Hale x Reader
 GIF Not Mine
 Warnings: a little fluffy, not my fluffiest.
 Word Count: 6,556
 Click Here For Masterlist
 Summary: Y/N is a vampire that the Olympic Coven first crossed paths with after Carlisle created Rosalie. Intrigued by their choice to live by the same lifestyle choice, she stuck around for a decade, but eventually left to do some travelling on her own. Of course, she dropped in on them over the years, and over the visits a bond was formed between her and the Cullen’s—she came to see them as family. Despite her intense love for all five of them, she was closest with Edward, though she didn’t see him as family. Edward became best friend to her—though both agreed that term was pathetic in fully describing the connection they shared. While they were platonic for the most part, neither had qualms against satisfying their needs when the instinct arose, and it worked well for them because neither attempted to make it something more than it was. It’s been a while since she’s paid the coven a visit, so long in fact that she is unaware that the coven has two new members. How will she and a certain blonde vampire react when they discover that they’re mates?
 I didn’t realise how long it had been until I really stopped and thought about the last time I’d seen them. Time moves so quickly when you become a vampire that you just get used to it, it becomes meaningless because it has no affect on you—you don’t age, your friends don’t age, so what’s the point in keeping track? You have all the time in the world to see whatever you wish to see, and if your friends and family are also immortal then the same principle applies. Fifty years could pass since you’ve seen the coven you call family and it can feel like it’s only been a week.
 And it did. It only felt like a month ago when I was last with Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Emmett and Edward. It had been just after Rose had bought the curly haired boy to the blonde vampire, begging for him to be turned into one of us. I’d stayed for about a decade after that and remembered being happy as I observed the way Rosalie lit up for the first time in her immortal life—how she finally embraced the second chance she’d been given and started living again. It had been a relief for everyone—especially Edward, I remembered with a snort; Carlisle had been trying to subtly push his oldest and newest creation together for years at that point. The Doctor was wonderful at many things, but matchmaking was most definitely not one of his strengths.  
I’d eventually left them again at the end of fall in 1945, claiming that I wanted to see New York in winter. It had been a lie and it was something I often did. Even though I loved them all as family and I was sure they returned the favour, I worried about overstaying my welcome, and so I forced myself to leave before they could ask. I didn’t usually stay away for long, certainly not over sixty years, but like I said it was easy for time to pass by when you were a vampire. As soon as I’d become aware of how many years had actually passed, I booked myself a flight from London to Washington—just because I hadn’t seen them face to face, I’d still kept in touch via letters. They liked to joke that I was stuck in the nineteenth century due to my preferred method of communication, but I didn’t care—writing letters felt more intimate to me. In Edward’s last letter he mentioned that his family were living in a small town known as Forks in Washington—I’d been there the last time they’d settled in that particular town. As I drove my rented car to their house I idly wondered if there were still any werewolves around for them to keep the treaty with. I supposed I’d have my answer soon enough.
 I felt a sense of familiarity wash over me as I passed the “Welcome to Forks” sign and I sensed a wave of security wrap around me like a soft blanket as I caught the familiar sent that would lead me to my family. I’d truly missed them, and I swore right there and then that I wouldn’t let so much time pass without visiting again.
 It didn’t take me long to reach the familiar but updated mansion in the middle of the woods—beside some modern improvements it hadn’t changed much and as I stepped out of the vehicle I’d rented I couldn’t help but grin at the memories that washed over me. Teaching Emmett how to hunt. Helping him wrestle with Edward. Shopping trips with Esme and Rose. Playing piano with Edward. Reading with Carlisle.
 A happy sigh fell from my lips as I gracefully slung my bag over my shoulder and made my way up the concrete steps. I was about to knock, because even though I knew I was always welcome here I could sense several scents I couldn’t recognise and I didn’t want to alarm anyone, but a rustle of wind caused me to whip around. A grin grew on my face and I dropped my bag by the door before taking off at full speed, following the scent that was so familiar and comforting despite so much time apart. I knew he’d be able to hear my thoughts with more clarity the closer I got, and I thought about manipulating my shield so that I could shock him. But another scent had me thinking better of it—it smelled like he was with a human? I couldn’t be sure because the two scents were so entwined together, but I thought the element of surprise wouldn’t be best if he were with someone I could potentially send into cardiac arrest.
 I slowed when I reached the familiar meadow, and I had about two seconds to see him lying next to a very human girl surrounded by grass and flowers before I was suddenly on the ground.
 ‘Edward!’ It meant to come out as a reprimand, but that was difficult when I was so happy to see him.
 ‘Y/N!’ He mimicked my tone, pulling me up from the floor and into a fierce hug that I returned with the same enthusiasm, ‘what are you doing here?’
 ‘I can’t stop by to visit my favourite people?’ I gasped, a mock-offended expression forming on my face but it fell into mirth when he rolled his eyes.
 ‘Of course you can, you just usually give notice.’ He pointed out, winding an arm around my shoulders as we started to walk. I realised he’d flashed me about fifty feet from the meadow before he’d tackled me and I idly wondered why.
 ‘I didn’t want to scare Bella.’ He answered my thoughts, ‘she knows what I am, but she’s not met other vampires outside of my family before.’
 ‘Ah, you’re scared I’m going to bite her.’ I nodded, winking to let him know I was jesting when he looked concerned that I’d taken offence, ‘so you have a girlfriend. I’ll take it that means sex is off the table this time, huh?’
 He gave me a look that made me chuckle and after a moment, he joined in.
 ‘I guess I’ll leave then.’ I sighed, shaking my head in faux disappointment, ‘I only came for a good roll in the sack.’
 He playfully shoved me away, laughter on his expression that I’m sure was mirrored in mine.
 ‘Stop.’ His tone was still light but a seriousness entered his eyes as we approached the edge of the clearing, ‘I haven’t told Bella about you yet, and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea before I’ve had a chance to explain.’
 ‘It’s not much to explain.’ I shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest, ‘I’m your best friend that you have sex with sometimes.’
 His expression became exasperated, ‘I’m not sure she would understand or be satisfied with that explanation.’
 ‘She should be. I mean, I love you Edward, but I’ve never loved you that way, and neither have you, which is why the whole casual sex thing between us worked so well. We both knew it wasn’t anything more than satisfying our own urges, and it didn’t change anything in our friendship.’ I said, curiously looking over towards the brunette who was patiently waiting for him in the centre of the meadow, the sunlight hitting her face and highlighting the flush on her cheeks.
 ‘You’re right, I just don’t know how she’ll take that,’ he sighed, tucking his hands into the pockets of the tan leather jacket he was wearing.
 ‘Well… you don’t have to tell her, I suppose, but then you run the risk of Emmett or Rose making a snide comment around her when they realise I’m back.’ I pursed my lips as I thought it over, ‘you know how they like to tease you, and I’d imagine now you have a girlfriend she would be the perfect pressure point to get your blood boiling. I mean that metaphorically of course.’ I flashed him a grin that he reluctantly returned, ‘I’d be honest with her, Ed. If she finds out somewhere else, it’ll do more damage in the long run—she’ll think you didn’t say anything because it meant more to you than it did blah blah blah. Just be open about it.’
 ‘You’re right.’ His smile was soft then as he pulled me in for another hug and murmured, ‘I missed you. Don’t stay away so long, okay?’
 ‘I’m sorry about that, I don’t know where those decades went.’ I shook my head in disbelief as I pulled away, ‘but it won’t happen again, I promise. Now go back to your girl, she’s getting impatient.’ I gestured over to where she was now pacing, ‘I’ll let you introduce me after you’ve given her the information.’
 ‘Thanks, Y/N.’
 ‘You’re welcome, darling.’ The endearment was a habit I’d picked up in London about a decade ago, and I could see the amusement shining in his eyes before he headed back to Bella.
 I turned and ran as soon as he was back to her, figuring he deserved the privacy. Plus, if he was going to tell her about me now, I’d rather not be around encase her reaction wasn’t positive. I mean I’d basically had a “friends with benefits” relationship with her boyfriend for eighty years; I couldn’t exactly blame her if that description didn’t inspire her desire to meet me.
 It didn’t take me long to get back to the house and I noted that my bag was no longer where I’d left it as I climbed the steps once again. This time I didn’t think about knocking—I figured my luggage being abandoned on their doorstep was warning enough—so I just walked in.
 ‘Carlisle? Esme?’ I said, my voice no louder than what I used in a normal conversation. I was about to call out for Rose and Emmett when my arms were suddenly full of a female blonde haired vampire.
 ‘Y/N! It’s been so long, I’ve missed you so much!’ Rose breathed into my ear as she embraced me—if I’d been human my spine would have been snapped in half at the force she was using, but I returned it tenfold, beyond happy to see her again.
 ‘I missed you too, Rose.’ I told her, a surprised squeak leaving my lips when we were both suddenly lifted. But when his scent surrounded me I laughed loudly, ‘I forgot how much of a man handling brute you are, Em.’
 ‘Wow. Back thirty seconds and you’re already pulling out the insults, Y/N?’ He shook his head, a wide grin stretching across his dimpled cheeks, ‘I’m impressed.’
 I laughed again, the sounds of two different kinds of wind chimes echoing off the walls, along with a big booming laugh that almost drowned us out.
 ‘Is that Y/N’s laugh I hear?’ Carlisle’s voice caused Emmett to release Rose and I. As soon as I was back on the ground, I was in my adopted father’s arms, ‘I know you’ve already heard it, but we’ve missed you.’
 My eyes glazed over with emotion but I hid it in Carlisle’s chest—if Emmett saw he’d never let me live it down—as I told them how I returned the sentiment in a soft voice. After a few more moments the male blonde vampire released me so that Esme could hold me as well. I’d had to really fight to keep my composure then—the two heads of the coven had become surrogate parents to me, and their embrace always made me feel at home and safe. It was a feeling I’d never experienced anywhere else in the world, and it was something I never took for granted. I appreciated them and their love more than I would ever be able to vocalise, and I was always reminded of that whenever I returned to them.
 It took a few moments before I was confident enough that I could speak without making my emotions obvious. When that time came, I pulled away from Esme, smiling when Rose linked an arm through mine and led me to the living room.
 ‘So what have I missed?’ I asked as I sat in between Rose and Em on the sofa. Carlisle and Esme squeezed together on the loveseat opposite, ‘I’ve noticed the new scents…?’ I trailed off, the question obvious in my tone—new members to the coven hadn’t come up in any of our letters.
 ‘Yes. Jasper and Alice, they found us actually.’ Carlisle smiled at my surprise, ‘Alice is gifted with visions of the future. When she was turned, she saw the life she would come to have and after picking up Jasper along her way, they found us and have been with us ever since.’
 I suspected there was more to the story than that, but I also knew that Carlisle respected everyone’s individual right to their own background. I could feel curiosity burning in my stomach but I ignored it, knowing that the male blonde vampire wouldn’t tell me anything, if I wanted answers I’d have to ask them directly. And that was fine, it was one of the things I respected about Carlisle—he understood the importance behind privacy.
 ‘That’s amazing. Where are they now?’ I wondered, more than eager to meet the new members of the coven.
 ‘They’re on a hunting trip. They should be back tomorrow morning.’ Esme smiled and I nodded in response.
 We chatted for a little while longer about where I’d been, what I’d seen and why it’d been so long since I’d been back. They seemed to understand that I hadn’t stayed away on purpose, after all they were immortal too; they knew how fickle time could be. But as we caught up I could feel anticipation bubbling up in my gut as I thought about meeting my new family members. I wondered what they would be like, how they would react at my presence—if Alice saw the future did that mean she’d seen me coming? Either way, I was half excited and half anxious over the whole prospect of the introduction. I found myself hoping Edward would be back before then—he was my best friend and he understood me better than anyone, and would therefore help me feel calmer, but I also knew he was a little preoccupied with his human. But that was okay. I was a big girl and it wasn’t like I was being asked to set myself on fire. I was just meeting new people. That’s it. But I couldn’t help but wonder—why was I so nervous?
 //
 It was reaching twilight outside when I proposed the idea of hunting. Carlisle and Esme declined as they’d already been out earlier that morning, Rosalie hadn’t but she wasn’t that thirsty, so it was just Emmett and I.
 As most things did whenever I was alone with Em, the hunting trip turned into a competition. The one with the biggest kill would be the winner and as we began I felt the swell of excitement vibrate throughout my body. I hadn’t felt this free and slightly childish since I’d left all those decades ago and it was wonderful. Due to the circumstances, the trip didn’t last very long as we both rushed to find the perfect kill. In the end, Emmett won. He managed to take down a deer that was slightly bigger than mine and he was still teasing me about it as we returned to the house.
 ‘All that time away has really turned you into a softie, huh?’ Em goaded, his hand laying across my shoulders as he squeezed me into his side, ‘too scared to take down the really big ones?’
 ‘Shut it, brute.’ I rolled my eyes, but the smile on my face told him that I wasn’t really annoyed, ‘this is the first and only time you’ll ever win against me, so I suggest you bask in this fleeting glory.’
 He threw his head back, his signature booming laugh echoing off the walls as we entered the mansion. I tried to playfully shove him away, but the force required to break his hold on me would have sent him flying through the wall and I didn’t think Esme would appreciate it. He just pulled me tighter against him and started to ruffle my hair with his other hand.
 ‘Damn it, Emmett,’ I groaned in irritation and mirth, ‘get off me you heathen!’
 I heard a few other laughs join in with Emmett’s and I assumed that meant he’d managed to drag me into the living room—I couldn’t actually see because my hair had fallen around my face like a dark curtain due to his shenanigans.
 ‘Let her go Emmett.’ Rose chuckled and I breathed a sigh of relief when he complied. I brushed my hair back to where it was supposed to be and sent her a grateful look.
 I was just about to ask where Edward was when the sound of two pairs of footsteps approaching the house reached my ears.
 ‘Sounds like they’re back,’ Esme smiled and stood from her seat on the couch to greet them.
 Carlisle came to stand beside me, a hand on my shoulder and I shot him a grateful smile when I realised he could sense my growing anxiety. My breath ceased when they entered. Alice was small and graceful; her pixie hair cut making her look like a delicate fairy rather than a deadly vampire. Here eyes were golden and the excitement shining in them answered my earlier wonderment—she had seen me coming. But it wasn’t her that made my whole body feel like it was burning in the most pleasant way possible. It wasn’t her scent that made a tidal wave wash over me, leaving behind a feeling of warmth and security. Being on the other end of her gaze didn’t make my knees feel weak and my breath quicken.
 The vampire responsible for all of these reactions was stood beside Alice, his curious golden gaze on mine. His hair was blonde, wavy and cut to just below his jawline. His skin was covered in scars, all in the shape of teeth and the different sizes indicated they were from multiple assailants rather than just one. I wanted to know the stories behind each of them, I wanted to trace them with my fingertips and erase any painful memories with my touch.
 I shook my head, shaking away my wondering thoughts—what the hell was happening? I’d never had this kind of reaction upon meeting someone new before—like a connection had instantly been formed without a word needing to be spoken. It was odd. It was crazy. I took a deep, unnecessary breath and forced a smile.
 ‘It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Y/N, but I have a feeling at least one of you already knew that,’ I teased, winking at Alice’s knowing look.
 The small girl chuckled and bounded forward, wrapping her arms around me and murmuring, ‘we’re going to be great friends, Y/N!’
 ‘I don’t doubt it.’ I assured her, my nerves dissipating momentarily in her bubbly presence.
 When she pulled away and stepped to the side I felt my nerves return as I made eye contact with Jasper. He appeared to be concentrating on something and a moment later I felt a sense of calm spread throughout my body, that only seemed to strengthen as I took in a lungful of his scent.
 ‘Nice to meet you, Y/N.’ I had to fight to keep my eyes open at the sound of his voice—it was strong, husky and carried a hint of a southern drawl that made me want to groan. How was it possible for me to be this affected by him?
 ‘Nice to meet you.’ I managed a small but sincere smile that he returned. I had to force myself to look away, lest my breath stop again because of his beauty.
 I didn’t understand what was going on, but I did know that I needed some air. I couldn’t take an inhalation without breathing in his scent and that wasn’t helping me clear my head. That was making me want to leap into his arms and never leave. I wondered if his touch would make me feel as safe as his scent did, but I banished that thought as soon as it appeared.
 ‘I’m going to get some air.’ I said, hoping they didn’t detect the tremor in my voice as I flashed out of the house without waiting for a response.
 I made my way to the meadow I’d found Edward in earlier—it was a place we’d both discovered in the five years I’d spent with the family in Forks before I’d moved on. I remembered the night we’d found it—we were supposed to be hunting, but once we wondered upon this clearing we’d both had to stop for a moment and take in the beauty of it. It had been a clear night, allowing the moon and stars to shine through. Eventually Edward decided to leave but I’d stayed and stared up at the beautiful sky until morning; I’d always found something soothing about the moon and stars.
 Unfortunately tonight was cloudy, but that was more common than clear in Forks. But I lay back anyway, my eyes fluttering closed as I appreciated the soft breeze that blew through the flowers and grass, heightening the scents of the grass and flowers around me. My stress and anxiety had sky rocketed ever since I’d left the mansion, but being here and surrounded by nature helped quell it a little. Or at least, just enough so that I could think.
 It was interesting—now that I was alone, it was easier to separate my reaction to Jasper from the feelings of lunacy and foolishness that immediately followed. I suspected it was because having no one else around helped me separate it from reality, and so acknowledging the strength of my feelings didn’t make me feel idiotic or crazy. Instead it was easy to pretend that the way I suddenly felt connected to the blonde was normal. Even now as I lay in the centre of the rounded clearing, I was aware of the pull I felt towards him, like an invisible string now connected us together and urged me to return to his presence. That realisation should have resulted in the return of my earlier feelings, but instead I felt a wave of reassurance, as if that were completely natural.
 I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t feel any urgency to question it in that moment. I sighed happily as the pull eased, and it took me longer than it should have to realise why that was happening. I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t heard his approach, but his scent wrapped around me like a soft, warm blanket. As soon as I’d caught a whiff, I’d sat up, my spine straight as I focused my hearing to determine what direction he was going to come from. But apparently, my reactions had really been slow, because by the time I’d sat up, he’d reached the meadow.
 I took another deep breath, attempting to use the security that washed over me with his scent to provide me with the courage I needed to meet his eyes. But I chickened out and allowed my gaze to linger on the blue denim that covered his legs. I could appreciate the muscle definition even through the denim and the wish to see them not covered in fabric suddenly sprang up in my mind. I shook my head to clear it and noticed he’d sat down, crossed legged about three feet in front of me.
 ‘Hey, Jasper,’ I didn’t speak very loudly, wanting to keep my voice light, but it wasn’t as if he would have to strain to pick up my words, ‘what’s up?’
 ‘I was going to ask you the same thing. Why did you leave like that?’ he frowned and the sadness in his voice caused me to look into his eyes, ‘do you not want me?’
 ‘W-what are you talking about?’ I stuttered, had I really been that transparent in my attraction to him?
 ‘You’re my mate.’ He said as if it were the simplest thing in the world, ‘I thought you realised that when I felt your reaction to my presence.’
 My head was suddenly swimming with the information I’d just been given. Jasper was my mate? A sigh of relief fell from my lips, if that were the case then it all made sense. My sudden onslaught of feelings, the safeness, the security, and the attraction—I’d observed all of those characteristics as they appeared between Rose and Em. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realised it sooner, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with such a strong bought of joy. I had found my mate. I’d never truly believed that would happen for me, that I would be lucky enough to find the person that completed me, that completed my soul.
 A sound of surprise fell from Jasper’s lips as I leaped into his arms, causing him to fall backwards; my arms wrapped around his neck and my face fit perfectly into the crook of his neck as I inhaled is scent. I felt his arms wrap around my waist and he used it as leverage to pull me tighter against him. A contented sound fell from both of us and if I hadn’t been so relaxed I would’ve laughed at the simultaneous action.
 ‘I’m sorry I ran.’ I murmured, my left hand trailed down to his chest and played with the buttons on his blue shirt, ‘I didn’t know what was happening, and feeling so much for you so soon made me feel like I was going crazy.’
 A chuckle fell from his mouth as he kissed my forehead, the gesture creating a surge of electricity to surge throughout my body.
 ‘It’s okay, I understand. If Alice hadn’t told me that I was going to meet my mate soon, I probably would have felt the same way.’ He assured me, his southern drawl becoming thicker as he spoke. I wondered if it was because he was relaxed, because we were alone, or a mixture of the two. Either way it sparked a bolt of arousal and I closed my eyes in an attempt to supress it.
 ‘What did you mean before when you said you senses my reaction to you?’ I wondered as the conversation replayed through my mind.
 ‘I can sense and influence the emotions of others.’ He said, his cool breath caressing the side of my face. I sighed at the warmth it left behind.
 ‘That sounds really… overwhelming.’ I pursed my lips as I contemplated that—it was similar to Edward’s gift in a way. Always having everyone’s emotions or thoughts just constantly buzzing in the back of your mind must have been irritating.
 ‘It was at first, but over the years I’ve learned to control it,’ his hand moved through my hair as he spoke, ‘sometimes it’s difficult, especially if I’m thirsty, but for the most part I’m used to it.’
 I nodded as best as I could with my head resting on his chest—I could relate to what he meant a little, and I told him so as I explained my abilities to him. I was a shield, which meant I had the ability to cast a shield around my mind or body, depending on the kind of attack I was facing. Edward had originally thought he couldn’t read my mind when we’d first met, only to be completely shocked when I’d felt comfortable enough to drop my mental shields around the family. For the most part I had control over when I would wield it, but if I were ever taken by surprise or felt threatened it would come forward and protect me.
 ‘Is it visible?’ he asked, curiosity shining in his tone.
 ‘It can be. It depends on whether I want people to know I’m using it or not.’ I said, rearranging our position so that he was sitting crossed legged again and I was I his lap, ‘I’ll show you.’
 I sent him an excited smile before I closed my eyes, concentrating as I willed my shield to wrap around us like a bubble. I felt the light on my face as it glowed bright blue, illuminating the meadow we were in. Jasper’s gasp of wonder made me smile and I pictured my shield rising off the ground by a few feet before I opened my eyes. I expected him to be looking at the glowing shield that surrounded us, and my breath caught when his golden eyes were fixed on me. I’d never been on the receiving end of a look so potent with adoration and awe.
 We moved together without thought, our lips meeting in a tender kiss that quickly became vigorous with passion. I had no idea if my shield was still keeping us afloat, but I didn’t care—a meteor could have hit the earth in that moment and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was completely overwhelmed with him; his intoxicating scent that was both sweet and spicy, his touch that was soft and smooth against mine, and his own skin that remained smooth despite the ridges that I felt as my hands slid down his arms. The moment was perfect and as our lips moved together as if we’d kissed a thousand times before, I couldn’t help the feeling of gratitude that joined all of the other emotions swirling throughout my body. Because I’d actually found him. My mate. My other half. And I was never going to take him for granted, because this connection, this kind of love, was a gift.
 //
 Epilogue: one year later, coming up to the newborn battle in Eclipse.
 ‘Honestly, the trouble that your mate attracts is astounding, Ed.’ I teased, twisting my body and allowing my arms to spin in circles like a child. I had to get the nervous energy out somehow—we’d all gathered for Jasper to train us on the best way to fight newborns successfully.
 I was excited to fight and nervous to potentially watch my mate get hurt, even though I knew that wasn’t likely—he was the most experienced in combat after all.
 ‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Edward rolled his eyes, recognising that I was only jesting.
 A few of us chuckled when Bella smacked his shoulder and frowned when she ended up hurting herself.
 ‘She’s going to have more anger issues than you when she’s turned, Y/N.’ Emmett teased, his booming laugh echoing around the trees as I flipped him off.
 We all tensed as the footsteps of the approaching pack reached our ears. Ten of them stepped out of the shadows and I wrinkled my nose as their scent invaded the clearing. My eyes narrowed at the sound of their growling and I couldn’t help the invisible shield that expanded from me to cover my family. I stepped forward to stand beside Jasper, my fingers entwining with his protectively.
 ‘Hey there darling,’’ he smirked, the southern drawl coating his words wonderfully.
 I didn’t answer; instead I rested my head on his shoulder, knowing he could feel my anxiety already. I took a deep breath, comforted as his scent washed over me. I wished I could bury my head in his chest—I knew his arms would make me feel completely content—but I restrained myself, as it obviously wasn’t the time.
 ‘They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms.’ Edward translated from where he was stood behind Jasper and I.
 I rolled my eyes, sure to keep my shield in place—if they didn’t trust us then I sure as hell wasn’t going to trust them.
 ‘I have a shield around us all,’ I murmured in Jasper’s ear, my volume low enough that the words stayed between us—and Edward seeing as he could read our thoughts—the blonde’s eyes met mine, his dark eyes shone with affection and assurance. I sent him a wink before we both turned to watch as the meeting officially began.
 Carlisle stepped forward, his behaviour calm and inviting, ‘welcome. Jasper here has some experience fighting newborns; therefore he can show us the most successful and efficient ways of defeating them.’
 ‘They wanna know how newborns are different from us.’ Edward said, his tone lower than how he usually spoke as he relayed the wolves words.
 ‘They're a great deal stronger than us, because their own human blood lingers in their tissues. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first several months of this life.’ Our leader answered, looking over at the blonde next to me and nodding at him to continue.
 Jasper squeezed my hand and stepped forward, turning his back to the wolves without hesitation and addressing his family directly. I noticed one of the wolves take a step forward at the sight of him being vulnerable and I bit back a growl, knowing we were all safe even if they did try to attack.
 ‘Carlisle is right. That's why they are created. A newborn army doesn't need thousands like a human army. And no human army could stand against them. The two most important things to remember are, first—never let them get their arms around you. They'll crush you instantly. The second—never go for the obvious kill. They'll be expecting that. And you will lose. Emmett? Don't hold back.’ Jasper smirked, gesturing for the curly haired vampire to come forward.
 They faced off and Emmett grinned, ‘not in my nature.’
 I bit my lip, folding my arms over my chest as I tried to force myself to stay still. Seeing your mate fighting—even against someone you considered family—was something I still struggled to witness. I don’t know how the others handled it, but I assumed it was something that would get better with time.
 Emmett went to charge towards the blonde haired vampire and I winced, my hands moving to cover my eyes involuntarily. I waited for the sound that would indicate they’d crashed together but it didn’t come. I was confused, but unwilling to look until I knew the coast was clear.
 ‘Y/N?’ Jasper’s voice sounded amused and I couldn’t help but drop my hands to see what had caused it.
 If I were still capable of blushing I was sure my face would be bright red in that moment—Emmett was surrounded by a separate shield that glowed an angry red and had lifted him ten feet off the ground. I’d seen my shield appear to protect me when I felt threatened, but this was the first time it’d reacted to save someone I cared about being in danger.
 ‘Do you think you could release Emmett?’ Jasper asked, mirth still present in his voice.
 I bit my lip to hide my smile as I slowly lowered the curly haired brunette before retracting the shield, ‘sorry about that.’
 I sheepishly stepped back, hoping that if I weren’t so close it would mean I wouldn’t be as tempted to interfere. My arm linked through Rose’s and I ignored her smirk and focused my attention on the front. I hadn’t realized how protective I could be until I’d met Jasper and if he didn’t return the sentiment just as strongly as I did, I would have felt awful about it.
 Emmett was charging forward with brute strength, but Jasper was moving too fast for him to catch. He kept trying, but his hands met air, and Jasper managed to catch him by surprise and throw him to the ground. The curly haired vampire attempted to retaliate but Jasper disappeared and re-appeared behind him, his teeth an inch from his throat. I smiled, amused and a little aroused by Jasper’s abilities to gain the upper hand so quickly.
 He gestured for me to come forward and I laughed when I saw he was paring me with Edward—he knew I’d bring up my mental defenses to prevent the mind reader from having the upper hand. While the bronze haired vampire was the fastest in our coven, I was the stealthiest and evaded his grasps easily. Though I had a little too much fun letting him think he had me in his grasp, only to move away at the last second. Eventually I put an end to it, leaping onto his back, my teeth an inch from his throat.
 ‘Got you.’ I smirked and jumped down, playfully shoving his shoulder as we moved out of the way to make room for the next pair.
 ‘Not so good without your parlor trick, Ed.’ I laughed when he shoved me three feet away from him, his eyes rolling when Jasper growled warningly.
 We fell further back and watched as the other pairs fought and I found myself much more relaxed now that Jasper settled into his role of instructor. He watched the others and offered pointers to help their stance, and didn’t lead another demonstration. Eventually we reached the end of the session, and I could see Edward’s relief as Bella was practically passed out against his side.
 ‘They want to know if you’d allow them closer to take in our scents. It’ll make it easier to avoid confusion during the battle.’ Edward said, his arm tightening around his human’s waist the sleepier she got.
 ‘Very well.’ Carlisle agreed.
 Jasper came to stand beside me and I dropped my shield with a sigh, not wanting to create any tension if they tried to step towards us only to be stopped by an invisible barrier. It was incredibly hard not to flinch as each werewolf stopped in front of each of us, tentatively sniffing before moving on. I understood that werewolves were people and I didn’t resent them because of their species or because it was in my “DNA” to despise them. I was on edge because I was aware of how much they resented all vampires. I’d heard plenty from them since we’d returned to Forks a few months ago, and I hated it. But they were helping us here, so I forced down my unease, which was a lot easier with Jasper by my side.
 Being loved by the blonde vampire made me feel an abundance of feelings. In that moment I was aware of how he made me feel powerful, confident and protected, so much so that the wolves passed by without me even noticing. As we made our way back to the mansion, running hand in hand, I realized why I’d been so calm about the upcoming battle. Even before the wolves offered their help when us winning wasn’t certain, I hadn’t been afraid, because I knew I’d have Jasper by my side throughout the battle and after.
 As long as I had my mate by my side, there wasn’t anything that we would have to face alone. And there wasn’t anything that would survive trying to hurt us or our family.
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hysterialevi · 4 years
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Hagall - A Sigurd/Male Eivor Fanfic
**SPOILERS FOR SUTHSEXE ARC BELOW**
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Fanfic summary: After rescuing Sigurd from Fulke's cruelties, Eivor works on helping his brother recover from his trauma.
Point of view: third-person
Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor
KINGDOM OF SUTHSEXE
BAELFRITH
Hair as red as fire. Eyes as cold as ice. A wrath that burned brighter than Surtr’s mythical sword.
The Saxons watched in terror as the Norse warrior carved his way through their settlement, tearing apart its very foundation in an attempt to find the woman who took his arm.
He shouted in a Devilish tongue that none of them understood, and with every guardsman that he cut down, the more the ground seemed to vanish underneath a new layer of blood.
There were fresh corpses scattered all over the village, and due to the flames that ravaged the settlement, most of its people now lay buried beneath a tombstone of ash, their faces frozen in fear as the world around them burned like a pyre.
It was Hell on earth, and only one man had caused it.
“BRING ME FULKE!” The viking roared above all the chaos, swinging his sword into another guard as he headed for the longhouse. “I know she’s here!”
Stomping his way up the hill that led to the longhouse’s entrance, the Norse refused to stop for anything as he stormed through a crowd of terrified civilians, all of them scurrying away in fear upon noticing his presence.
“Flee, everyone!” A Saxon man yelled in horror. “Flee for your lives! The Devil himself is in Baelfrith!”
Ignoring the panicked screams of the villagers, the viking continued on his fervent path for vengeance and planted a firm foot in the door of the longhouse, breaking it free from its hinges as it wildly swung open.
There were only a few people inside -- most notably, the thegn of this settlement -- and with no one around to stop him, the viking hurried into the building, ready to get the information he needed.
Just before he could progress however, a familiar voice called out to the Norse, halting him in his tracks.
“Sigurd!” Eivor exclaimed, jogging up to the man. “Wait!”
The viking turned around to face his brother, his gaze still wild from the recent battle.
“What is it?” He asked sharply, sounding more harsh than he intended.
Eivor furrowed his brow in concern, unable to hide the worry he felt.
“I just...” the younger man took a breath, trying to calm himself down, “...I want you to think about this, brother. Are you certain this is what you want to do? Interrogating Aldrich, I mean.”
The older man obviously didn’t share his partner’s skepticism. “Why wouldn’t it be? Thegn Aldrich can tell us where Fulke is hiding. He’s protecting her. I know he is.”
Eivor’s fear quickly turned into frustration. “And you really think he’s going to help us? After we just burned down his settlement and slaughtered his people? I love you, Sigurd, but this...” he gestured at the destruction around them, “this is not who you are.”
Sigurd stepped closer to Eivor, his figure towering over him.
“Then you haven’t been paying attention.” He said lowly. “We are warriors, Eivor. Sons of Odin. We are born and bred for Valhalla. We do not cower in the shadows like a rat, or hide in the grass like a snake! Fulke wrought every conceivable violation upon me, and so I will not rest until I throw her into the jaws of Garmr myself!”
Sigurd leaned forward, his voice rumbling like magma in his throat. “Either lend me your aid now, or return to Ravensthorpe. I will collect Fulke’s head, with or without you.”
The younger man shook his head in disapproval. “...There is no honor in this, Sigurd. You know that. You are not a barbarian, nor are you a murderer. But you are blinded by your hatred. Listen to me--” Eivor gripped him by the shoulders, “--Fulke isn’t worth it!”
His brother scoffed, shrugging his hands off. “You really think you can judge me? Or must I remind you of all the years you spent seeking revenge against Kjotve? What about when you endangered your crew simply to go after him? My methods may be brutal, Eivor, but do not pretend that you would not replicate them. Your claim to a virtuous disposition is meaningless, for we both know you are no better.”
Eivor sighed in annoyance. “Which is exactly why I know this isn’t worth it! My hatred for Kjotve tore me apart for years, Sigurd. It led me down a path that changed me for the worse, and I do not wish to see you lose yourself either.”
“You weren’t there, Eivor!” Sigurd insisted. “You did not see what Fulke did to me. She...” the man paused for a moment, trying to hold himself together, “...she took... everything from me. My strength, my dignity, my freedom. Fulke is nothing more than a witch in human form, and honor demands that I bring her to retribution. You can fight by my side, or watch from the shadows like a coward. It matters not.” He threw a cautionary glare at the other man. “But do not get in my way.”
Standing there in silence, Eivor watched hopelessly as his brother lost himself in his rage, consumed by a hatred that no one in their clan had ever seen before. He knew the man was hurting inside, and he knew it wasn’t Sigurd’s fault, but to see him lash out in such a violent manner... it broke Eivor’s heart.
Sigurd was a good man. A good leader. He cared deeply for his people, and had already sacrificed so much to keep them afloat. But to witness him undo all of his work in the name of killing Fulke -- a single woman -- Eivor knew he had to stop him sooner or later.
He did not want to fight against Sigurd as Valka predicted he would, but for his brother’s own sake, he feared he would have no choice.
Noticing the abrupt shift in his brother’s mood, Sigurd felt a sudden sense of guilt clutching at his chest as he took on a gentler tone, uttering a brief apology.
“F-Forgive me, my love...” he whispered, “that was... unworthy of me. I apologize. But I fear my point still stands. I can’t just walk away from this. I...” Sigurd glanced down at his amputated arm, doing his best to block out the abhorrent memories that came with it, “...I need to kill Fulke.”
Eivor sighed in defeat, not wishing to argue with his brother any further. “...If that’s truly what you wish, then I will stand by you, Sigurd. All the way to the end.” He placed a hand on the man’s cheek, gazing at him affectionately. “But please... do not forget who you are.”
Sigurd nodded reassuringly. “I won’t.”
Returning to the task at hand, the older man separated their embrace and brought his attention back to the longhouse, eager to get some answers from Thegn Aldrich as Eivor followed from behind. 
At the moment, the elderly nobleman was cowering behind the safety of his throne and had no more than a pitiful dagger to defend himself, somehow enhancing his already pathetic display.
Most of the civilians who once stood by his side had fled the safety of the longhouse, and the closer Sigurd got to him, the more Aldrich’s grasp on the dagger seemed to shake.
“No!” The Saxon cried out in fear. “Leave me be, Dane! Stay back!”
The thegn wildly swung his blade in an attempt to cut Sigurd, only to receive a fist to the face when the viking swatted the weapon out of his grip.
The dagger went flying off to the side and landed on the stone floor with a metallic clang, leaving Aldrich completely defenseless as he backed away from the Norse in panic.
“Filthy fucking pagan...!” He hissed under his breath. “Rendering a man defenseless in his own home -- slaughtering innocents! God will see you punished for your sins, Dane! Whether you believe in Him or not, He will condemn you and all your kind to Hell for the suffering you’ve inflicted on our people! You will--”
“--Enough of your piety!” Sigurd barked, striking the thegn once again.
Eivor flinched at the aggressive action, having to restrain himself from interfering.
“Brother...!” He warned in a hushed tone, causing Sigurd to glare at him.
“Stay out of this, Eivor.” He demanded before returning his focus to the thegn. “...Tell me where Paladin Fulke is! I know you’re hiding her!”
Aldrich stammered out a response. “M-Madwoman Fulke? That’s why you’re here? You wish to find her?”
Sigurd prowled closer to the Saxon, staring him down as a lion would its prey.
“I wish to kill her.”
The nobleman glowered at that. “Lord above... you Northmen and your thirst for violence. Is it any wonder that England crumbles under the hardships of war? We should’ve set you heathens to the torch the minute you set foot on our shores.”
Sigurd instantly raised his sword up to Aldrich’s throat, holding it dangerously close to his skin.
“Watch... your tongue, Saxon. Lest I tear it out through your teeth. Now, tell me where Fulke is! I grow weary of your rambling.”
Still, Aldrich remained obstinate. “That heretic is far away from here, and safely in the hands of God. She is to be tried by true Christians, and brought to justice in an appropriate manner. I will not let her fate fall into the hands of a bunch of barbarians!”
Sigurd gently pressed the blade into his neck, applying just enough pressure so that a few beads of blood began to form.
“...It’s not your decision to make.”
Aldrich nailed his gaze onto the sword, his teeth starting to chatter as small droplets of blood trickled down his skin.
“And who are you to decide, Dane? You who walks among the hellfire. What makes you think you’re any more suited?”
Sigurd grinned darkly. “Is the fate of your own life not already in my hands?”
When the thegn offered nothing but silence in return, the redheaded Norse took a few steps forward, carrying on with his interrogation.
“This is your last chance, Aldrich. Tell me where to find Paladin Fulke, and I might leave enough of a body for your kin to bury. Otherwise, I will personally see to it that my skalds use your bones to beat their war drums. Your head will adorn the tallest pike in my village, and I will spread your lungs into wings so that you may fly with the same birds that feast on your corpse.”
“Sigurd...!” Eivor said once again, causing the man to sigh in frustration.
“What?” He snapped.
“What are you doing?” The younger man questioned. “This is not who we are!”
The viking ignored his brother’s pleas, growing tired of their quarrel. “Enough, Eivor! You may be my brother, but do not forget who is jarl! My word is law, and if I wish for someone to be killed, I expect you to help me swing the sword! Now for the last time, stay out of this...!”
Sigurd turned to Aldrich, impatiently awaiting the man’s reply.
“And you! What say you? Will you tell me where Fulke is? Or shall I take my axe to your spine?”
The Saxon scowled at the Norse, refusing to give in.
“...Devil take you, Dane.” He spat at Sigurd’s feet.
The Norse warrior chuckled at the gesture, his temperament alarmingly calm.
“A foolish idea, thegn.”
Deciding not to hold back anymore, Sigurd suddenly threw a punch at Aldrich’s face and knocked the man flat on the ground, continuing to beat the Saxon as he helplessly crawled away.
“Sigurd!” Eivor blurted out in shock, unsure of what to do.
But the viking didn’t stop. Instead, he simply approached Aldrich and carried on with his assault as the thegn desperately tried to get back up on his feet, latching onto any piece of furniture that would support his weight.
“Sir Regnward...!” The Saxon shouted, calling out to his housecarl. “Cut this Dane down immediately! I want him killed!”
There was no answer.
“Sir Regnward!” Aldrich repeated in his absence, his voice trembling now. “For God’s sake, Cedric, where are you...?!”
Sigurd planted a boot on top of the thegn’s hand, grinding it into the floor.
“Your housecarl is dead, thegn!” He exclaimed, his tone dripping with venom. “He lies outside with a sword buried in his heart, just as you soon will.”
The Saxon whimpered under the pressure of Sigurd’s boot, frantically trying to wiggle his way out of the man’s hold, but to no avail.
“Please...!” He begged, his jaw clenched in agony. “Leave me be...! There’s nothing more I can offer you!”
Sigurd crouched on the floor, staring at Aldrich directly in the eye. “Are you as dense as you are cowardly? Tell me where Fulke is, and all this stops. It’s a simple concept, really.”
But still, the Saxon refused. “If I tell you, they’ll have me hanged!”
“And if you don’t,” The Norse growled, “I’ll do worse.”
Leaning closer to the thegn as he crushed the man’s hand, Sigurd prepared to punch Aldrich again and clenched his fist, only to find himself being dragged away from the Saxon when Eivor suddenly decided to intervene.
“Sigurd!” The younger man said. “Enough!”
The redheaded viking regained his footing, glaring furiously at his brother.
“Eivor! How many times must I tell you to stay out of it?”
“As many as you wish,” he replied, “but regardless, I cannot just stand by and do nothing while you torment these people! We will find Fulke, brother, but not like this. Not ever like this.”
Eivor turned to the fallen Saxon, gesturing to the longhouse’s ruined door.
“Take what people you have left and flee, thegn. There is nothing more for you in Baelfrith.”
Aldrich pushed himself off the floor and gripped his hand in a nursing hold, nodding appreciatively at his savior.
“Bless you, Dane. Bless you...!”
“Do not mistake my mercy for acceptance. If I see you or any of your other people near our clan after this, you won’t be walking away next time.”
It pained Eivor to speak to a defenseless man in such a way, but for the sake of not completely throwing his loyalty for Sigurd out the window, he figured he had to prevent the Saxons from seeking vengeance somehow.
“Oh, you won’t,” Aldrich promised. “I swear it.”
Scurrying off without another word said, the lone thegn hurriedly made his way out the longhouse as Eivor stayed behind, standing amidst all the chaos his brother had sowed.
He wasn’t sure if he did the right thing, allowing Aldrich to escape. The man appeared sincere enough in his promise to leave the Raven Clan alone, but as past experiences would have taught Eivor, no one could be trusted in a time of war.
For all he knew, the thegn could’ve been planning for revenge. He had enough survivors to rally a small fyrd, and it didn’t seem entirely impossible that the man would attempt some sort of retaliation.
Still, despite his uncertainties, the young viking was glad to have prevented further bloodshed. There was no love lost between him and self-righteous Saxons, but regardless, Eivor did not wish to see anymore unnecessary death.
There had been far too much of it already.
Turning back to address his brother, Eivor halted in his steps when he found the sullen man sitting quietly on Aldrich’s throne, his head hanging low in despondency. 
His brow was furrowed in deep thought, and the closer Eivor walked to the solemn jarl, the more he was able to see the exhaustion creasing his lover’s face.
Sigurd didn’t look well at all. 
A grim shadow seemed to loom over the man’s conscience like a dark cloud, and with the sound of wild flames crackling outside, Eivor only wondered how long it would be until Sigurd’s actions reflected the little sanity he preserved.
“Sigurd...?” He said worriedly, kneeling in front of the man so that he was eye-level with him. “Are you well, brother?”
The forlorn viking glanced up at Eivor, his expression heavy with remorse. There was no longer any strength in his face as there was before, and the dark circles outlining his sockets only seemed to harden his gaze.
“...What’s happening to me, Eivor?” Sigurd whispered, his tone devoid of any emotion. “That woman, Fulke... she turned me into a monster.”
The younger man cupped his partner’s face in his hands, looking at him affectionately.
“No, Sigurd...” Eivor comforted, “you are not a monster. Nor are you a saint. You are only human. Like the rest of us.”
The other man chuckled morosely at the statement. “...Human. If only you knew the irony of your words, brother. Fulke spent all our time together trying to convince me otherwise. She believes I am born of the gods. One of the... Ancient Ones. She believes that--”
“--What Fulke believes doesn’t matter.” Eivor insisted. “She’s a madwoman, Sigurd. A snake. And she will do anything she can to twist your mind, regardless of the cost.”
Eivor caressed Sigurd’s cheek, attempting to console the older man.
“But hear me when I say this. No matter how you see yourself, Sigurd -- no matter how long it takes for you to recover from this pain -- remember, you will always be someone who’s cherished among our clan. You will always be my most trusted friend, and my most loved companion.”
Eivor placed a kiss on the other man’s lips, afterwards resting the bridge of his nose against Sigurd’s.
“I love you. And don’t you ever forget that.”
Sigurd brought a hand up to one of Eivor’s arms, holding him gently in place.
“Freyja knows I don’t deserve you.” He replied softly. “After everything I’ve done, I’m not certain I deserve anyone.”
“Don’t say that,” Eivor reassured. “There is still hope for you, Sigurd. You’re not beyond redemption yet. But I can’t heal you by myself. Ultimately, your own recovery rests with yourself in the end.”
The younger man stepped back and rose from the floor, reaching a hand out to Sigurd.
“But I won’t abandon you. From here to Valhalla, I’ll always be at your side.”
The older man grabbed Eivor’s hand, pulling himself up from the throne as the two of them savored a brief moment of peace.
“I know,” Sigurd said earnestly. “And I won’t disappoint you, my love. I promise.”
Walking alongside each other, the peculiar couple removed themselves from the morbid scene and returned to the hellfire outside, prepared to face whatever threats awaited them in the chaos.
By now, the ferocious flames had dug into the very heart of Baelfrith and consumed its soul, leaving nothing but a sea of fire that drowned everything in its path.
There were golden specks of light flickering throughout the pillars of smoke, and with nothing more than a pile of corpses to commemorate the life that once thrived in this settlement, Eivor felt a new sense of grief tugging at his conscience.
All this destruction, all this ruin... it was entirely their fault. So many innocent lives had been condemned within a single day, and the blood would forever stain their hands.
But despite the tragedy, Eivor knew he couldn’t give up. Sigurd’s old self was barely hanging by a thread at the moment, and the younger man feared he would fall without someone there to help guide him.
So, without saying a word, Eivor simply reached over and took his lover’s hand into his grasp, holding him close as they traversed through the flames. 
He didn’t know how he was going to help Sigurd recover from his pain, or the torment that Fulke put him through, but one thing was for certain.
Fulke was going to have to kill Eivor if she ever intended laying her hands on Sigurd again. He would always protect that man at all costs, no matter what happened, and even if it meant he would lose his own life, he was prepared to defend Sigurd. 
All the way to the end.
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hitozy · 4 years
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suga mama ≪ masterlist ≫  wherever, whenever
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Hinata Shoyo has done multiple stupid things in his life, which is why he is amazed on how much he is hating himself right now. 
He still can’t believe what he has done. 
After Kenma unnecessary telling him that YN’s dad was NOT coming to her graduation and that was why he should come instead; he actually got dressed up, bought her a present, got on a train and bought flowers on the way to their school only to find out, that it was a LIE. 
And now here he is, absurdly unprepared thanks to Kenma, sitting beside her very tall, very handsome and very rich father, waiting for the ceremony to start and for YN to walk up that stadium and take her diploma.  
Did he mention he’s sweating bullets?
“You said your name is Hinata Shoyo, correct?” Hinata grips his thighs to stop himself from yelping,“Y-YES SIR!” 
Mr. LN looks at him with amusement. “There is no need for you to be nervous around me, Shoyo. Unless you are thinking of or already courting my daughter,” he turns towards Hinata, leaning against the back of the chair while propping his head on his hand, sharing an intense gaze. 
A few minutes pass and Hinata can’t utter a word. He wants to deny it but the unsaid words feel heavy and wrong on his tongue.
“Ah, I see.” Is all Mr. LN says, before turning back to his previous position and looking up front, “My bunny, Hinata Shoyo, is not a toy or a plaything. So I want you to know that I do not condone nor support any kind of baboonery, but-” he arranges his cuffs, “ I know she is her own person and responsible enough to make her own decisions, no matter how difficult it may be.”
Hinata has seen and spoken to YN multiple times to know this already, but he finds it very touching to know just how close they are. She really does have a good relationship with him, even though he must be so busy...
“Still, if you toy with her, her emotions or take her for less than what she is, I have enough money and connections to make you go away. Do I make myself clear?” 
Hinata is a bit impressed by this man, but mostly terrified. “Y-yes sir.”
Mr. LN smiles at Hinata, “Bunny told me that you have been thinking about doing beach volleyball… do you have a plan formed yet?”
He shakes his head, “No, we’re still looking into it ah- coach and I!”
Mr. LN observes him for a while and finally says, “If you need money to travel or a place to stay abroad, or even a letter to get a visa”, he hands Hinata his business card with his personal cellphone on the back, “let me know. You have a lot of potential from what my daughter has said, I would hate for it to get wasted because of finances. Or you could also tell YN, she will be working with me part time while studying at university. Either way,” he chuckles, “we would help. We have a knack for giving and never receiving.”
… Hinata should have gotten YN a better present.
After the ceremony, Mr. LN called the driver to take the graduates and Hinata to a high-end restaurant. They had a private room and everything just for them. 
Once again, Hinata was not prepared for this.
Across from him, he sees a very drunk Fukunaga eating dumplings with chocolate syrup and a drunk Yamamoto crying about girls, eating some kind of steak… with chocolate syrup and wasabi. Kenma is kind of drunk, streaming the whole ordeal. And YN?
YN is pressed against his side, giggling at her friend's antics. He can feel her warmth through his sleeve and thanks every godly entity out there of this opportunity.
Then he curses them all when she shifts, sandwiching his arm between her breasts while throwing her legs on top of his.
His thoughts divide into: ‘she's so soft’ to ‘i am such a pervert, oh god’ but he can’t bring himself to separate from her, this is the closest they have sat together, ever and he wants to enjoy it while it lasts. So he buries all the sinful thoughts and just memorizes her on him… for future reference… for when he is alone. And she doesn't have to know about it.
When Yamamoto stands up to take off his pants is when Hinata calls their leave. He picks up YN’s phone and dials the driver to pick them up. He kind of has to carry-drag them all out.
As soon as they get out, it's like a domino effect, Yamamoto falls and so does the rest. He quickly moves and manages to get YN just before falling down.
She giggles in his arms and wraps her arms around his neck looking at him with hazy eyes.
“Oh my, a knight in shining armour has arrived just in time,” she trails a finger from his forehead toward the tip of his nose, bopping it, “what would my knight like as a reward?”
Hinata feels his face heat up, a telltale sign of his blush, “No-nothing, Miss.Princess, now come on, the driver is almost here…”
Giggling she holds his face between her hands, “Oh but I must pumpkin~ and I know what it should be”, and with that she leans forward.
Her lips are a lot more softer and plush than he had imagined. He could feel the slight coat of shimmery gloss that she still had on her lips, when she separated a bit he took up the chance of licking his lips. Strawberry.
She leaned again, applying more pressure this time but still keeping it soft, not for very long though. The way she tugged him towards her and her teeth nipped his lip caused him to gasp, letting her slip her tongue inside his mouth.
This is my first kiss, was all Hinata could think as he let his hand slide slowly up her spine to grip the back of her head and deepen the kiss.  I like this a lot. He smashes his chest against hers and tugged her bottom lip, dominating the kiss. He didn’t have any experience beforehand, so he hoped he was doing it right. When Hinata wrapped his arms around her tightly, he accidentally grinded against her, causing YN to moan. 
Her moan snapped him out of his trance. 
Panting, he started to back away from her, "Princess, the driver is almost here, come on, let's pick up the guys." Instead of letting him go though, YN buried her face in his neck, “Don’t wanna.” Hinata couldn’t help the giggle that came out, he wasn’t sure if it was because of the kiss or how cute she was acting but he had never felt this warm in his life.
As he helped the driver load up everyone and settle down, he thought about what just happened and their relationship. 
Yachi was right, I do like YN a lot more than everyone else, he blushes realizing that he grinded up against her. He was so close to taking it a step too far, and he hasn’t even told her about his feelings! 
But she’s so much better than me, and could go for someone better as well. So talented and beautiful and strong.
And he can’t even receive all of the balls properly.
He wondered if the kiss was a way of YN expressing her feelings… or just a drunk meaningless moment. He then felt something fall on his shoulder. YN dropped her head there and proceeded to intertwined their fingers before falling asleep.
You’re so beautiful, like a princess. But soon the princess would become a Queen, and she would need a King by her side... not a pumpkin knight.
“Pumpkin?” YN softly says, curling up against him. 
“I’m here, Miss. Princess,” for as long as you let me, kissing the top of your head.
He decided it was better not to question it and just live it day by day.
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suga mama ≪ masterlist ≫  whenever, wherever
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no facts on this one... I’m gonna let it all sink in...
You’ll be seeing the first chapter of part ii sometime this week :) (once i finish the draft lol)
taglist ➜ open! send an ask to be added ღ
@mint-mai​ . @prettyinblack231​ .  @starryleafy​ .  @ilauvcoldpizza​ . @its-the-aerieljeane​ . @daddy-kawa​ . @aizumii​  @pansexualproblemchild​
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No nut November
Imagine: in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your lover saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfill one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.
Victor Creed
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Accepting the challenge that is No Nut November, it's a walk in the park, after all, he did have a wager with you. So you were prepared to make him lose.
Walking into your living room dressed in a maid outfit so small enough that the skirt perfectly (barely) covers your ass when you bend over. And you use it wisely, in front of him.
-Excuse me, Mr. Creed. Just a second.
He watches your form in front of him seeing the black thong between your cheeks that peaked between getting the sensation he started to miss already.
-You want me to lose, dove?
He asks as he grins feeling his palm on his hard length trying to massage the hard-on away.
-Me, no. I'm just wearing this costume since I didn't go to the Halloween party. So this is my chance. It's not my fault you have a dirty mind.
-It's not that hard with a beautiful girl like you.
Damn!
He knew how to rile you up.
-So you forfeit? You do remember your punishment.
Victor stands up walking to you slapping your check roughly as he smirks down at you.
-Being handcuffed while you ride me isn't that much as a punishment.
Steve Rogers
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For Steve, it's somewhat easy. He is always on a mission kilometers away from you. That also means when he comes back to you he is a beast... Until he accepted the bet. After a day passed since he came home he wanted to devour you.
-Ready to relinquish, captain?
You asked as you sat next to him on the couch dressed in your pajamas. You knew you didn't have to do much, he will crumble himself eventually.
-No...
He trailed off but you saw how hard he was, partially begging to take you.
-When you think about it if you lose it isn't that bad. Sure you would be handcuffed and you don't like to be submissive...
With that Steve grabs your hand yanking you to him so you sit comfortably on his dick.
-Who said I don't like to be submissive?
You kiss happily knowing that there is indeed something like a 'Submissive Captian'.
Bucky Barnes
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-Doll, I have been known in my days as 'James the Champ', which meant I NEVER lost.
You turn your gaze to him watching him through the glass as you applied your red lipstick as he leaned in the door frame.
-Well, of course, but you never went head to head with me.
Bucky rolls his eyes at your testimony as you walked towards him letting your steps be slow and seductive as your hands land on his shoulders.
-That means I'll just have to go to the girl's night out without my departure gift.
Bucky licks his lips finding it hard not to fuck you before you go, your usual tradition before you or him went. Always marking each other up to know how just lucky you are that the rest of the population.
-Looks like it.
He said slowly as he felt your fingers dance along his neck waiting for your kisses just below his ears. He closes his eyes focusing his hands trying to control his animalistic behavior from jumping out and losing the bet.
-I'll be home in a few hours.
You kissed his cheek and left your shared home for the first time ever since he came back from the mission. Closing the door Bucky jumps onto the bed discarding his pants and mixer and quickly getting to work.
Ding
Bucky stops for a second as he looks at his phone a new text message form you.
A photo.
Opening the photo it's a picture of him jerking off with the title being
'When I come home you prepare for your self for the punishment.'
Loki Laufeyson
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After spending almost an hour explaining Loki the No Nut November he was rather excited to try his limits. And the bet was just as sweet. He did always say that his mind is the strongest of anyone but you knew how to crack him. And now was the time.
Cooking.
Loki loved to help you cook especially when you bake a cake just for the fun of it. Taking the freshly whipped cream covered cake you dip your finger onto your slice of the cake totally forgetting the fork beside you and putting the whipped cream covered finger into your mouth letting the delicious moans be loud for Loki to hear.
Loki watched you torture him as he felt drool exiting from his open mouth.
The bet.
He needed to be strong, he is royalty they never give their power to others. Especially if they are his amazing and sexy lover.
-Delicious.
You moaned as you looked at Loki as he shakes his groaned approval.
-Yes... You are.
Giggling at his blurb you walk to him pressing your body on his.
-Ready to forfeit, my King?
Loki sighs and for a split second he nods.
-Yes. I'm yours, my love.
Thor Odinson
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He loved challenges, he loved the pressure to succeed and prevail amongst other mortals that failed. And he was furthermore ready for the challenge. You were in it to make him beg for you. And you knew just about how.
-My darling, how about a kiss?
Thor asked as held you by your waist.
-I'm sorry, Thor. The bet is limited only to hugs other than that it's losing.
Thor sighs as he watched you walk away hoping that this will end soon.
-Y/n, my light, my moon... Can you bestow me kiss onto my aching lips?
Looking down at your kneeling boyfriend you laugh as you watch Tony enter.
-For fucks sakes. Thor just forfeit and get a room!
Tony screamed clearly irritated at the muscular God.
-But fellow Tony much is at stake.
-Just kiss her and get it over with. I'm tired of hearing your pending across the HQ.
-Forfeit Thor and I'm all yours.
Thor looks back at you and he nods to your words as he lands his lips on yours softly.
-Please, do go get a room!
Thor continued to kiss you as he carried you out of the living room leaving Tony to wash his eyes with soap.
Bruce Wayne
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He is the man, the detective, the toughest of tough. He can endure every pain and still make it on time to a date with you. But when a wager is in he is 10 times tougher. He is in it for the end line. But you were also stubborn as him, even more. This will be fun.
-Come on, Bruce. You possibly can't endure a whole month without feeling me. And my body.
Bruce looked at you as you swayed in your dress next to him watching the crowd of shallow rich species.
-Believe me, It's hard. But knowing I beat you in a bet is all the worthwhile. Plus, I have spent years in isolation so this will be easy.
Rolling your eyes at his ruling you walk away grabbing Olivers Queen and going to the center of the ballroom, in the perfect position in front of paparazzi, rich folk and Bruce.
-Ready to waltz, Oliver?
-Yeah, let's make some magic.
The dance was magical. You and Oliver moved in unions even better with Bruce but your eyes never left Bruce's figure. As the dance ended you pull out your leg from your high slit dress placing on Oliver's hip and giving a kiss on the cheek.
-Thank you.
-Always, temptress.
Walking back to Bruce you see his eyes locking onto your body and stoic expression he wastes no time in yanking you out of the room.
-Get ready to be punished, baby girl.
-Yes, sir.
Clark Kent
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Clark is a cinnamon roll, you can't deny that, but he is rough when he wants to so pulling an invisible brake on his libido is pure torture.
-You know that you can always forfeit.
You say softly hoping from him to give up since you are feeling frisky.
-I don't know. I want to but I also want to win this bet.
Kissing his cheek, almost near his lips you see the twitch in his neck as he tries to kiss you on the lips. You know just what he needs. Fuel this small fire.
-If you want to complete this bet you can do that. I'm not gonna stop you. I can always ask Bruce for some meaningless fun.
Clark sharply runs to you on his face shock.
-Or maybe Arthur, or maybe even Diana. I am feeling very much frisky.
Clark shakes his head as his hands grip your waist and pulling you on his lap as his hands roughly grip your boobs.
-You are going to regret saying Bruce's name. I'll make you forget it.
-Prove it.
Arthur Curry
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Arthur is filled with happiness and he very much finds joy in making you feel amazing. So proposing the bet he was against it. He himself knew that he won't last even 3 days without touching you.
-Maybe I'll accept the bet if you add something more.
-What do you propose?
-You being in a sexy costume of my choosing for 2 days.
Arthur grins at the idea.
-Fine. But if you lose. You'll fulfill my fantasy of choosing.
Arthur nods feeling excited as he shakes your hand, starting the challenge. A days pass and you knew how much he wanted to win even going so far to sleeping on the couch. He wanted to win so bad but seeing you exit the shower as he entered he just could not look away from your marvelous body, wanting to pinch your booty and massage your tense muscles.
He started to lose his cool. It was apparent. You saw it and somehow enjoyed seeing him squirm.
-You alright, Art?
He looked at you like a hurry and horny wolf (mostly horny)
-No. Want. To. Touch. So. Bad.
He slurped like a zombie as he watched your lips wind up in a smile. So kissable.
-You can. But there are consequences.
You walk to him at an arm's length not touching him just torturing him by the small insignificance distance.
-Come on, Arthur. You can't go on like this.
He huffs like a bear as he steps closer kissing your lips with so much need you almost fell on the floor he wasn't holding you tightly.
-Fine, you win but now I get my way.
-Deal.
Orm Marius
Orm wanted to touch you it was a fact but having a challenge for him as a prince was tantalizing. He wanted to try it and he was wrong he didn't understand the power you had on him and made his task a nightmare in his words at least.
-Y/n can you not be so sensual, beloved? I'm trying my hardest.
He pleaded hoping for you to change out of his shirt into your pajamas.
-I don't see the problem. I always wear it and you love it.
-I do! That's the issue. You are enticing me.
Snickering at him you walk to him standing in front of him as he sat on his chair.
-Well, then how about you get on your knees and worship me.
Orm gulps feeling his dick hardening at your command. He loved it when you took control and he lived when he submitted to you. It was like a drug. He doesn't answer as he drops to his knees in front of you looking up hopeless.
-Yes, my goddess.
Joker
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-You want to chain me?! Chain the sex machine?! Are you crazy?
-It's not an order. Just a bet. You can decline it. It thought it would be fun.
-It's on.
After that J was focused and loaded as he focused on his 'gangster' work. After countless tries of seducing him in his office in his favorite lingerie. You took a break. To gather yourself and think of a new plan.
Got it.
As the night enrolled you walked into J's club dressed in a small red dress and walking past J's private club section. Only winking at him as he discussed business with another gangster. Going straight to the bar and sitting pretty it doesn't take long from the moths to come to the flame.
-Can I buy you a drink?
Many men ask as you lean on the bar table and seeing the bartender behind you butting in.
-Gentlemen, Y/n is...
-Its okay Mark. Let them be.
Mark nods obediently handing you your drink. After a while, you see Joker walking to you pushing away the men from you.
-Scarm before I kill you here.
The men run away and you smile at your man.
-You are very clever, luring me in with other men so I get jealous and fuck you hard.
-Did it work?
-Yes, princess. Prepare for the punishment of your life.
-And you too.
Duncan Vizla
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-Y/n you should know that I am trained to be tougher than the average person. This puny bet won't affect me in the slightest.
Smiling at Duncan you counter his statement.
-I know but when people are told something they tend to the opposite. Something like the apple in the Garden.
-Are you pulling Biblical reference to get me on board with the bet?
-Maybe?
-Deal.
After that deal, you made sure he saw you every second. If he was in the kitchen you were there to help, if he was in the bathroom you needed an 'urgent bath'. When he sat in his leather chair you purposefully bend down to pick up anything that fell, accidentally. Even when sleeping. You were purposefully sleep talking small words that he wanted to hear.
-More Duncan... Faster... I'm yours... Mark me...
He was a tough nut to crack but it will be worthwhile. Just a little more. A few days passed being completely impressed by Duncan's steel will. As you walked into the house you see Duncan cooking his eyes looking solely one the scrambled eggs.
-You good, Duncan?
You ask as you watch Duncan turn to you pulling himself to you like on a string.
-In a way. A HARD way.
Moving your gaze down you see Duncan hard-on poking out of his pants.
-Need help with that?
You ask hoping for Duncan to nod and fuck you right here in the kitchen. Of course, as you tried to seduce Duncan and being left empty-handed was also hard on you leaving you wet and wanting more of his distant touch.
-Time is passing Mr. Vizla and your problem is still here. You know how it can be solved.
Duncan smiles viciously as he pushes you against the fridge. His rough lips smacking against yours as your ears pick up the calling of his belt.
-You are in a ride, prepare yourself Y/n.
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clolikescloquetas · 4 years
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THINGS I HOPE TO SEE (OR NOT) IN ACOTAR4
Nesta NOT STAYING AT THE ILLYRIANS MOUNTAINS for long, and travelling to other courts or the continent instead so she sees the world just like she wanted to do before the war. I think sending her away to a cold mountain surrounded by misogynistic warriors who hate her and are scared of her was a stupid af decision. Especially when it's a war camp and war triggers her PTSD. Oh and let's not forget there's a revolution about to take place. I see it as a very forced way of the narrative to make cassian and nesta interact. I understand an unexpected turn of events was needed as a beginning for acotar4, but going to the mountains shouldn't be anything more than a beginning that quickly leads us to another location. We've been told many times that nesta is "illyrian at heart" but I don't buy it. She isn't such thing, and her character is way too complex and interesting and has too much potential to just make her fit into a culture she doesn't belong to and has nothing in common with (it's stupid to think a place that reveres war and bloodshed will help her heal).
Besides, after all the places the previous books introduced I think it would be boring to stick to the same court. I loved Velaris but now that Feyre's story has ended it's time to move on. Not to mention that the Night Court is the worst place for Nesta, it reminds her of all her trauma and its high lord is a male she despises. Nesta needs to go somewhere else where she can recover her spirit and independence, and be free of the commands of a male that gives her orders as if she were her subject (she is not).
Hopefully, knowing how much sjm loves plot twists and given how she's already told us where nesta is supposed to go, it won't stay like that for long.
NO TRAINING. Maybe learning self defense techniques but that's as far as I'll go. No training to turn her into an almighty warrior. Nesta has power from literally the mightiest magic device in the world, and you're telling me getting beat on a ring will empower her?? Even when she's previously stated her refusal to train and said fighting isn't the only thing that makes someone strong?? And we're talking about Nesta, whose powers make her lethal. Making Nesta train would butcher her character and istg if they pull the "fighting helps her go back to her old self and empowers her" I will lose it. Enough with making that troupe work for everyone. We've seen it before and it has worked out well for other character, but in this case it wouldn't feel right and would be boring af.
I've seen a few people say they want Nesta to command the Illyrians, and help with the whole misogynist issue they have, or that she should do the Blood Rite I don't know if the name is correct, I don't remember it to gain the respect of the warriors. How should I put this: NO. This is more of the "Nesta is Illyrian at heart" bullshit Rhysass likes to pull, when what he actually means is that she is proud and stubborn. She, and I can't stress this enough, is not Illyrian. She shouldn't be participating in traditions she doesn't understand and doesn't engage in (she doesn't want to learn how to fight for fuck's sake) and we certainly don't need nesta to pull a white saviour behavior. I don't want her to come and solve a centuries old problem of a culture she doesn't belong to. And I don't see how she could do that in a credible way either, given how they all are terrified and wary of her. This also applies to the rioting issue that is looming over the illyrian camps.
Nesta healing and improving her mental health with cassian at her side to support her, without making him the reason why she gets better. And showing the effects war has on a veteran as Cassian too.
Someone, preferably Nesta, calling out Feyre, Rhysass and the rest of the IC on their shitty behavior and actions, and the narrative finally acknowledging their mistakes and portraying them as the deeply flawed characters they are. Now that we don't have Feyre's POV anymore there are no excuses for condoning their shit.
Cassian realising he has judged, ignored and said cruel things (like he doesn't know why her sisters love her are u kidding me) to Nesta and how he hasn't stood up for her before his friends. Oh and how he ignores her when Mor is present. I'm a sucker for nessian, but before they are a thing, he should apologize. I don't like how he treats nesta poorly and then expects her to love him, when she doesn't owe him shit. It's selfish of him to expect her to fit into his family even when they all hate her. I hope acotar4 handles well these issues. And I can't wait too read Nesta's POV and know why she didn't want to be close to Cassian after the war.
Nesta making new friends on her own, people who respect her and love her. I love nessian but I don't want their relationship to be the only deep interaction and relationship Nesta has. I would LOVE to see her and lucien become best friends (they were supposed to be lovers after all, and although a romantic relationship has been dismissed I'm sure their friendship dynamic would be amazing), or get acquainted with Helion or even Azriel. She needs to meet new people, and preferably not from the night court.
We've read many times how Nesta's powers are described as great and terrible. The source of her power is the fucking cauldron, used to create the world. Even tho no one knows yet what those powers are exactly, she has used them to turn hundreds of soldiers to ashes and even the bone carver, a death GOD, has spoken of the way the earth trembled at her power when Nesta was made. I want these powers to be a huuge part of the plot in this book. I want Nesta to master them fully, and for us to see the process. I don't know if I'm the only one who thinks like this, but when Feyre discovered she had powers from all the high lords, it seemed to me that she mastered them too quickly. I was hoping to get more attention on that issue, but it got dismissed quite quickly. Now that it's Nesta's time, I want the book to fully focus on these powers. Oh, and what I want the most is my baby to become the most powerful creature in the continent. More mighty than Rhysass and the other high lords by far. You can't give us a whole book preaching how nesta is really powerful, and how she took something from the cauldron that made the earth tremble, and then turn her into a common witch or something similar. I mean you can't expect me to believe the high lords have more power than the cauldron.
Although I find that to be another plot hole, bc the cauldron was supposed to be almighty but then Rhys and Feyre restored it when it broke?? Does that mean they are more powerfull than the object that created their world?? If that is so, they why didn't they win against hybern sooner??
Anyways, I want Nesta to never have to bow to anyone. Ever.
Well that is what I'd like to see in the next book. Which, based on the information we have, is basically the opposite of what will happen. As far as we know, sjm said there would be a lot of training in this book (I assume she was talking about Nesta) so there goes the chance of her not been a warrior. We know she'll go to Illyria, and although it's my hope she leaves soon or that she never goes in the first place, I know that's not what's going to happen.
And then there's the sex. Sjm said she had to delete some of the sex scenes bc her editor said they were too much and unnecessary. Which means there are still plenty of sex scenes in the books, as sjm confirmed. Don't get me wrong, smut is fine if handled correctly. But I don't think it will he handled correctly.
In fact, I think acotar4 will be placed on illyria the whole book or at least a huge part of it, and that we'll have lots of unnecessary and meaningless sex scenes inside of Cassian's cabin in the mountains instead of a well written and interesting plot, a well developed and complex relationship between the characters and a well handled depiction of PTSD and trauma healing.
In my mind it'll go like this:
Nesta arrives in the mountains. She and cassian are mean to each other for a while and the sexual tension is pretty obvious between them. Nesta starts training. At the beginning she hates it but over time she ends up loving it and excelling. Sex. Nesta makes a few friends between the illyrian female warriors she trains with, whose characters are shallow and totally secondary. Sex. More sex. Maybe something about Nesta's powers. A scene where cassian and nesta have an openhearted conversation about their relationship. Cassian never acknowledges how he treated Nesta, but she will apologise to him for how she kept him away. This leads to more sex. Nesta makes up with feyre, and apologies to her for being mean or whatever sjm comes up with. Feyre doesn't apologize back, or it's a shitty apologize for sure. Sex. Nesta stablish a cordial although cold relationship with Rhysass and Mor bc apparently she and Az are not destined to interact (even tho Az would totally oppose Nesta's situation of being sent to the illyrian camps). Sex. Nesta does the Rite. Sex. Sex. Something about the illyrian rebels. Cassian gets hurt. Nesta goes feral and gets a hold on the illyrian people. They respect her and answer to her now. Sex.
Or something along these lines. Oh and I have the impression sjm loves her main characters too much to write any scene showing how the decisions, actions or behaviour regarding Nesta of Feyre and Rhys were wrong. Acknowledging this could make it seem like they are flawed people like the rest, and apparently that's not possible.
I pray to be proved wrong once the book is released. Only time will tell.
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ayellowcurtain · 3 years
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What is your unpopular opinion about wtfock? Mine is that i dont miss Jana. She had zero impact on me. No charm, no spark and no presence. Her season was skippable and I was waving her off when she left (this would also apply to Jens and Moyo). This is why s4 was not a complete loss for me at the reveal of Kato. It sucked bc they could have been more innovative, but I was willing to give her story a chance...until it became clear that it was utterly offensive and devoid of a cohesive plot :sigh
I would say I have a few, anon. Don’t think any of them will be a surprise, but:
OHN on a Monday was the most underwhelming thing they could do: I don’t care what anyone says, Robbe, the worrier, would have looked at every inch of that city during that Friday night. I understand he can get too deep inside his head and insecurities, but more than that, the first thing that Robbe does is that he worries about people, he wants to see everyone okay and happy. There’s no way he wouldn’t go after Sander with that voice message.
Sander and Amber don’t know each other!: Already talked about this one but I don’t think them looking at each other meant anything, the fandom was just too focused on every detail and got too attached to a meaningless one.
Sander and Britt were still okay with each other during the beach trip: Again, already talking about this a few times. They weren’t in love but they weren’t forced to be together.
Zoe can be a little too mean when we’re now seeing her through Robbe’s eyes: It wasn’t just a one time thing, during her season, and obviously during K*** season, and during WTFock Down, she was just a little too impatient and a little too quick to freak out. Through Robbe’s and Jana’s eyes she was an angel <3
Britt being constant the villain is a lazy that keeps on getting lazier (if that’s a word): I get it, they’re probably thinking they already made her the mean girl twice, why not do it again but to me, the more they shove this Britt is a villain down our throats the less believable it gets. During Robbe’s season we saw her with Yasmina for half a second, they seemed chill, during k**** season she went to Senne’s party and if the girls weren’t chill with her she wouldn’t be there! They have the perfect villain to use and “innovate” but they can make her a villain, can they?
Noor was way too demanding with someone she was hooking up for just a few weeks - but I guess that’s what a teenager would do so yeah: I always said this, but the second she kissed Robbe, it felt like e owned her to act like a couple, to be around her at all times when they were with their friends, with the bed thing on the trip, with being at his school waiting for him (I know Sander was there too and that’s sort of a parallel but I just don’t see it being the same thing), with screaming at him for being late, for wanting answers after a few weeks of “”dating””
Oh, I miss Jana!! I agree her season was skippable but I felt it was good enough to create an idea of how she was, how the girl squad would be, how Jens (and Robbe) were and how they relationship worked. The problem with her season, to me, was that, just like I mentioned, it felt a lot more like a season to introduce everyone than to show who Jana was. And with Skam we don’t do “introducing” seasons, really. We just dive into the main’s head and that’s it. And that wasn’t what happened with Jana. But I love her! Thought she was like the one that keep the girl squad together and solid.
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