#mostly because i don’t know if i feel stupid bc i’m missing something or he’s just deliberately obtuse

[louisironson]

should i try twin peaks again

[itneverendshere]

addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!

i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂

i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.

It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.

The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.

But you know that sound. That’s Rafe.

You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.

"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.

“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.

“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.

God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.

His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.

But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.

“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”

You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.

It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.

“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.

“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you lel yourself really look at him.

All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?

He’s a goddamn masterpiece.

“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.

You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.

“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”

You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.

The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse. 

“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.

You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.

“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.

“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.

Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard. 

“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.

“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”

“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me.” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”

He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”

“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”

He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.

He’s gonna get you good.

Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face. “So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.

Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.

“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.

More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does. 

He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin.

Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your panties, you are already trembling. “Please,” you whimper, rocking your hips against his hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick heat and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on. You gasp, hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow and close to your clit.

Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are.“Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”

You’re past patience.

You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it. “Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”

He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, like he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.

He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your slick folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance, warm and insistent. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a slow, deliberate stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls. It’s intimate, almost unbearable in how good it feels, the way he’s taking his time, drawing it out like he’s savoring every second. You tighten around him, wet and hot, and he groans softly as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open, is filthy and intoxicating.

“Like that, baby?” His voice is thick with lust, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.

You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—embarrassingly quick, but it’s been a while. 

His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

“Oh God—please,” you gasp, your fingers clutching at his arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.

His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots. Your breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as your body answers to his. You can feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”

You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath. 

He leans in, lips caressing your ear, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”

His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it. 

“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up. You cry out, a broken sound, your hips bucking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder. He finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, and when he pulls them out, you feel the emptiness like a loss. You’re still catching your breath, body buzzing from the orgasm he just wrung out of you, but you notice the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.

He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine. 

"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”

You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again. He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”

You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”

"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”

You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways. 

As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.

His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”

You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter. 

You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.

“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”

Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.

You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.

“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.

You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.

You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.

His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.

You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, like he wants to feel every second of it.

“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."

His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”

His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.

Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.

“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”

He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.

“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”

His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.

And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.

The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy. 

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”

You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.

"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.

You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.

His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. 

He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. "Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line. 

He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”

You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.

The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure. The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”

You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. 

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”

And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.

He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”

You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release

His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.

His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.

You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.

You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk. 

“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”

You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.

“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”

You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.

“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”

He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.

“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”

His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.

“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”

He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”

He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”

“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”

You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does. 

“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.

Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”

The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”

He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”

He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.

But you peck him, simple and sweet.

“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”

The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.

As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.

You choke on your cereal like an idiot.

“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.

Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.

She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”

You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”

Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”

You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”

She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”

“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.

For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.

[babiebom]

How I felt about the bachelor/ettes my first time playing

A/N: mostly because my feelings about them have changed a great deal. Like don’t hate on me but I’ve disliked a lot of people due to first impressions. also I needed something to post since I’m writing very slowly because I’ve started work and have been sick for the last 509 years. I miss having free time to write. But a girl needs to make money I guess. The rest of the villagers will be in different parts!!

Tw: I hate more than half of them and am mean, cursing, maybe some sexual things but obviously not full on smut.

Wc: idk babe

Sdv Masterlist

Before we get into this I would also like to say that the way I met everyone was not on day one or day two. I think I met almost everyone like not one day at a time, but like I think it was after the Egg Festival that I had met everyone. ALSO the first time I played was with friends.

Sebastian

Immediately had a crush on the emo

Like going into the game I was like “I heard there was a town emo where is he?”

My friends also were like “you should find the emo”

Then when I found out his name I was like “?????from black butler?????”

“WHEN ARE YOU LEAVING YOUR ROOM????”

“can he PLEASE leave his room now”

“Oh my god I was too busy fishing and missed when he left his room”

I stood outside his room for days and that’s why I never met anyone.

Sam

Considered going after him instead of Seb for a minute

Like I actually thought he was super cute and sweet

Thought his hair was stupid and cackled for a minute

Sang sk8ter boy after I saw him on a skateboard

And by sang I mean I sang the entire song to myself while running around the map.

Also laughed at his anime hair

Shane

He was standoffish and I said that I would stalk him bc wtf is your problem

Literally I was like? I will make him want me so bad because he’s being mean.

I got over him after him being mean a couple times though then decided I wanted to make him depressed

Then found out he was actually depressed and felt bad

Harvey

I did not realize that he was a person because I never went into the clinic because I never needed to

Then when I met him I was like “OH YMCA!!!”

Idk why I thought ymca I’m so confused

Literally I never talked to him ever because I was focused on Sebastian.

Alex

I think he said something weird and I decided I wasn’t going after him

My friend then said HE was going after him because Alex was acting weird and y’know off to him bc he’s a guy( he does act different to men)

So I’d decided I wanted to mess with him and said “oh no I’m ALSO going to Alex’s house”

To which he told me to back off

Both me and my friend are petty enough to go after people that say they dislike us like absolutely not you’re not allowed

Elliott

I thought he was an asshole

Not because he said something mean

But because he kept talking like a rich guy that knows everything

It annoyed me

I also thought he looked like the love interest on the cover of a weird romance novel

Then he said something about a crab in his pocket and I was like oh he’s me but not afraid of sea animals okay

Penny

Lmao me

She was reading under a tree and was very awkward

Also I thought she was really pretty

Like insanely pretty

I think I chose her as the woman that I would marry if I were into women and not obsessing over Sebastian.

Leah

I thought she was Penny and got VERY confused bc wasn’t she just wearing a skirt wtf

Then realized they were different

Then my friend decided she was going after her

So I decided that I wanted to befriend her because why not

I just like being a menace in games

Also thought she was a Lesbian immediately.

Haley

I WOWOWOWK

I thought she was the HOTTEST woman in the game

Then tried to befriend her

And she gave me mean girl vibes so I decided that I hated her

Literally made me feel like I was in school and being made fun of

Avoided her after that because absolutely not.

Maru

BLACK GIRL BLACK GIRL BLACK GIRL

Technically mixed BUT BLACK GIRL

If you cannot tell I am a black girl and I got excited at the depiction of a black person that is nerdy and smart like actually

Thought she was very socially awkward like MAAM what?

I think I met her once then the next time I saw her was at one of the festivals?

Maybe it was the Luau when I finally talked to her again

And she just SLLLLLURPs

And I’m like????ok that’s gross but mood

Emily

I wish my hair was still blue

Literally my first thought

Then I was like??????? Who is this lady dancing wtf

I’m pretty sure I briefly met her during the first time I played with my friends but only like I clicked through her words so fast because I wanted to finish the meet everyone task so I could fuck Sebastian

So when I finally played alone and took the time to get to know people I was like???? Where’d she come from???

Abigail

*clears throat* WIIIIIIITCH

Also I disliked her a lot

I’m pretty sure I hated her more than I hated Haley

And I’m pretty sure it was because her dialogue was like “go away” or something and I was annoyed like bitch this is the first time I’m talking to you wtf

Then she said something about being disappointed she couldn’t go on the farm anymore because I’m there and I decided to take it offensively because I already disliked her

I thought she was pretty but that was overshadowed by the worst first impression.

Then I found out her and Sebastian were paired and got in the way so many times

Like I actually blocked her from going into his house by standing there so she couldn’t get in

Don’t get me wrong it wasn’t a “omg girl likes my man she needs to get a life” thing

It was more of a “I dislike her because she was mean to me now she’s no longer allowed to go in here only I am because I wanna be mean.”

[aroace-poly-show]

For hw ask game!!

👻 A headcanon about what scares them

🖕 A headcanon relating to anger

🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at

💔 An angsty headcanon

under cut it is kinda long but TY FOR QUESTIONS YAYYY

fears: okay for an easy trait everyone shares we got the HASHTAG ABANDONMENT ISSUES 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 none of them are exempt. it’s really funny to me tbh. like ruis obvious but nene “if i’m not skilled enough i’ll be abandoned” kusanagi emu “if i’m too much and too persistent and childish i’ll annoy them too much and drive them away” otori tsukasa “i was left alone for much of my childhood but that totally didn’t have any lasting effects on me now :) no having an empty quiet house totally doesn’t bother me nuh uh” tenma

anyway. tsukasa is Stupid and isn’t self aware of it but he’s scared of not reaching the goals he sets for himself. like he’s got his high expectations of what he should be and not being able to do that fucks him up bad. also he doesn’t like silence.

emu is scared of losing things. like even minor things like a pretty bracelet or the pencil she uses the most like she gets Really distressed about it. smth smth she has had so much loss of things she holds so dearly that she holds onto everything she can and even minor loses hurt her

for nene and rui idk tbh. i’m considering fear of the dark for rui but aside from that idk. well i do know one more but that is in the anger section soooo

anger:

i had a thought about main story here but this does say like. headcanon. and not canon. soo. hmmmm. i might add on for nene and tsukasa another time cause i don’t got much rn tbh

emu isn’t the type to get angry very often i think? she likes to make people happy, and her being angry doesn’t achieve that. i mean she gets upset at herself but like outside of that. not a really angry person?

something about rui being scared of being angry. like he does get angry sometimes. he gets upset at how they’ve been treated, nene mostly, but the feeling of being angry is one that he hates bc the last time he was mad at someone (albeit rightfully so) he ruined so so much so he hates feeling angry. hashtag projection

what they’re best at: aside from canon talents ruis really good at video games now, nene is even more stacked it’s insane. but rui only has nene to compare to so he thinks he’s like average at games. emu is good at memorization and really good at arts and crafts stuff. tsukasa is good at sewing.

angsty headcanon: keri you are a masochist you want MORE ANGST????? /silly

anyway tsukasa always gets a little nervous when people are late for stuff cause he gets worried. emu has a few versions of the phoenix wonderland park maps with old attractions she misses and memorabilia from said attractions stored away in a special box ay the wonder stage. nene has had a few times where she had to take breaks from vocaloid tuning bc she gets really jealous she can’t sing and she gets so embarrassed by herself everytime because it’s a literal no sentient software program, how pathetic can she be. rui will sometimes hurt himself doing robot stuff and then leave the wound unattended for a little longer than he should bc he has normal feelings about him deserving to hurt.

[lawisnotmocked]

Hello sir. You will probably either find this deeply offensive or hilarious but lately I have an obsession with the character of Javert as I recently watched the 2012 Les Mis because “oh the memes about it back in the day were classic.” Yes I am serious sometimes I watch movies just because I liked a YTP of it. Then I find out that in addition to being perfect meme fodder, Javert has a weird one-sided (??) pseudo enemies to loves dynamic with the loaf of bread guy (I did not know his name until like three days ago to me he was always just the guy who sang “I stole a loaf of bread.”)These types of characters who give vibes like they’re lgbt, have dog or cat-like qualities, and are overly dramatic typically become my Blorbos (a similar example would be majima from RGG who’s also a crazy dog-like man who attacks his crush.) SO what I am requesting is could you please give me your crack headcanons about Javert? Like funny shit about Javert. If you have recommends for crack fics about Javert I’d appreciate it, bonus points if any of the headcanons/fics are Valvert cuz idk I just find them really funny together. Prob mostly because of the memes not gonna lie. If you could also educate me on Valjean and Javert’s mannerisms in the Brick I would be most appreciative because to be totally real with u… I’m so sorry but I don’t wanna read or watch parts that are not about him or loaf guy 😬 (ya I kno shame on me and all that…) but I need to know more about how they act so I can make hideous crack fics of my own. Thank u 🙏🐶

First of all anon how does it feel to be the funniest person on the internet this is the best ask I’ve ever received :’3

Even without crack headcanons brick Javert is just absolutely hilarious as a character?? I feel like a lot of adaptations try to take him too seriously and like yeah he does have a serious and tragic aspect to his character but he’s also a very fruity drama queen who has like 0 awareness of his surroundings, acts like a feral dog on crack and has this weird magic power that allows him to know people’s real identity no matter how well disguised they are. (I maintain that les mis does have a form of magic system in the brick but it’s more like mundane mostly useless superpowers?? Like super strength that just makes you a little bit more strong that an average person, or really good instincts or something. Anyway lol)

Some Actual Canon Facts about Javert from the brick are:

- Is implied to have the soul of a dog

- Bares all of his teeth when he smiles

- Fucking hates reading but does it anyway

- Keeps a snuffbox on him at all times and snorts snuff after he feels like an arrest has gone well

- Dissociates for a solid 5 minutes and misses the entirety of a conversation bc someone said something he didn’t agree with

- I know the ‘you need to punish me Mr Mayor’ scene is in the movie but it’s so much funnier in the brick :’3

- Accidentally sets his coat on fire by standing too close to the stove

- Announces himself to Thenardier’s criminal gang who he’s about to arrest by making a stupid joke

- Tells Thenardier that he can shoot him if he wants because the gun will just misfire. Thenardier shoots him and the gun misfires.

- Doesn’t really have any friends and his coworkers don’t like him either because he doesn’t take bribes and refuses to work with criminals to catch other criminals

- There’s an entire Code Of Symbolism in the brick thats purpose is to represent how horny Javert is, which I wrote about here along with some other Javert related stuff

This man is just a fucking disaster honestly :’3 I headcanon that’s he’s ADHD, autistic, severely depressed and probably has some form of childhood PTSD?? But I’ve also seen other people headcanon that he has BPD or OCD and honestly all of them are good hcs because he’s absolutely neurodivergent.

I absolutely understand not wanting to read the whole brick if you only care about two of the characters lol, but the Hapgood English translation of the brick is public domain so I’ve linked a couple of Javert chapters you might find funny!

Javert’s introduction | punish me mr mayor | Javert lends Marius two pistols he never gets back and burns his coat on the stove | Javert arrests Thenardier and tells him to shoot him

Brick Valjean is also a chaotic bitch but he’s less camp and more like a cryptid with PTSD. Off the top of my head he:

- Sews money into the inside of his coat when Cosette is young

- Keeps the rest of his money buried in the woods

- Accidentally convinces some townspeople that he’s the devil by sneaking around said woods

- Stuffs his pockets with wigs and disguises in case he ever needs to make a quick getaway

- Someone tries to rob him and he tackles them to the ground then lectures them on how they should let god into their heart and stop stealing

- Holds a hot poker against his arm when Thenardier tries to extort him for money to intimidate him

- He just really loves Cosette this isn’t a funny or anything he just really loves his daughter and wants the best for her

In the brick Javert also doesn’t even actively seek out Valjean?? They go years without thinking about each other then they run into each other again in the weirdest circumstances and go ‘omg not this weirdo again 🙄’

As for my own favourite crack headcanons :3c

- Modern au Javert is a furry. His fursona is a wolfdog called Orion :-)

- [NSFW] He’s unironically into vore

- He wants a fursuit very badly but he can’t afford it until he’s dating Valjean and Valjean buys him one

- Valjean doesn’t get it but he’s glad his partner is happy :-)

- [NSFW] In my ideal Javert lives modern au he quits the police, goes to therapy and joins a kink group because I think he’d thrive in that environment 😌

- Valjean has like 5 fake driver’s licenses

- Javert will literally comment on how hot he finds a man and still doesn’t realise he’s gay until he makes out with Valjean. Thinks he’s straight even though he’s never been attracted to a woman before. Is literally that unaware of his own feelings.

- Valjean has no fashion sense. He dresses so bad that it comes full circle and it looks like his outfit clashes intentionally. Cosette is horrified.

- Javert is awful to watch movies with, especially detective movies, because he talks the whole time and points out all the inaccuracies

- Valjean never makes eye contact. Javert makes too much very intense eye contact.

- No one invites them to events because they’re awful together. Javert shit talks people’s outfits or decor very loudly to Valjean and Valjean hates socialising and doesn’t want to be there

I don’t think I know any good crack fic bc I mostly just read angst lol uwu’’ but if anyone has any suggestions pls feel free to add them!! I’ll add links if I think of anything though 😌

[angelguk]

omg so i sent in an ask re angst jock jk n oc ! but then i also realized its highly possible these 2 break up at one point while in uni mostly bc of the "are we dating bc its convenient" kinda dilemma and then it just pushes them apart bc they think theyre losing theirselves while being in such a close relationship,,,cue save ur tears by theweeknd BUT i just know when they grow up a lil bit more, theyll end up together <3

here we go! (the beginning of the end....may be...)

didn’t include save your tears as the soundtrack but may haps for the follow-up :3

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: angst, yes the break-up scene, jaykay being an ass (a very huge one motivated by his own insecurities and selfishness – translation: he’d rather break her heart and carry that weight than be the heartbroken one), chayoung is no longer Seed of Doubt but something else (still up for debate but she’s fairly nice here), not edited but hey atp that’s part of my branding (also i would like everyone to consider that oc is not the greatest gf ever like guys don’t hate jk alone!!)

soundtrack: bags, clairo + stay, gracie abrams + say you know, alina baraz

(titled — honeymoon fades)

Jeongguk’s contact name hasn’t lit up the screen of your phone for six days now and you haven’t seen his face for just as long. It’s weird to go from constant incessant  communication to complete and utter radio silence. Not a single meme deposited in your Instagram inbox, no random notification from his Twitter. Just silence, quiet brewing silence. 

It breaks two days later when Chayoung finds you coddled under your duvet, mouth stuffed with the saccharine sweetness of mint chocolate. (Jeongguk kept a stash of it at your place but who was around to eat it anymore apart from you?). 

“And why do you look like you live in a dumpster?” She’d hummed, ripping open the curtains you’d involuntarily welded shut. 

“Because that’s how I feel inside,” you’d retorted, pushing aside your laptop. The screen is stuck with an image of an idiotic character named Nabi kissing the spawn of Satan. You hope for her sake it works out. Chayoung had huffed at your response, fondly whacking your head with a stray pillow. 

“Well get over that feeling cause we’re going out tonight.” A declaration, the fierceness in her feline eyes a warning that you’re not allowed to even think of saying no. That doesn’t mean you hadn’t tried – sorrowful eyes and pouted lips as you begged her to spare you. But Chayoung is a force of nature, one that could easily wreak havoc on your delicateness. And she does though, with a string of comments that propels you out of the miserable burrow you’d dug up. 

“You’re killing everyone, you know?” She’d supplied, yanking open your closet. “You’re sulking, Jeongguk is shutting down. He’s said like five words since this whole...thing...you have going on.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at that, toying with the corner of the large grey shirt donned on your body. Jeongguk’s shirt. One of his favourites actually. You’d thought about stealing it after spying it on his obsessively neat laundry pile, but after seeing your wandering eyes he’d given it to you instead. 

“He always does that,” you’d said after Chayoung had whipped her head in your direction, curved eyebrows perplexed. “I mean, shut down. It’s his emotional response to things that bother him. Complete detachment so it hurts less.”

She had just stared at you, a long meaningful look at left your skin prickled. 

“Huh.”

“What do you mean ‘huh’?”

A measured step forward, her body weight sinking into the edge of your mattress a moment later. “I mean, you know him so well.”

“Of course I do he’s my best-friend,” you’d said, indignation coating your words

“No–No you're not getting me. You know him. You know he wouldn’t make the move to reconcile–”

“But he should!”

“You told him to go away! He’s trying to listen to you even though he’s hurting!”

And maybe that was it, that simple implication that you were causing him pain that had you pausing, reviewing the things you’d said to him – the things you’d felt. 

“But,” a timid rebuttal, “I just–I just need him to show me that he cares.”

“He does,” Chayoung had returned. “So much. And he misses you. He’s probably just afraid that you don’t feel the same.”

“But I do! He knows this.”

“Does he?” A question in her eyes, one that you’re afraid you know the honest answer to. 

You say things and never mean them, he had said, eyes hard.

That had hurt you but perhaps he was right, there are things you hadn’t told him, feelings you hadn’t truly expressed. And Jeongguk had always been good to you, so understanding and caring, trying to fill the places were you lacked. Wasn’t he the one who planned the majority of your dates? Remembered all the important milestones of your relationship while you contributed the bare minimum. You hadn’t even told Chayoung about the surprise he had planned for your one-year anniversary, the shame of your own choice hanging heavy over your head. 

So that’s why you’re here, staring at the back of his head forlornly as the music drifts around you, flashing florescent lights bathing him a hazy glory. He hasn’t seen you yet (something you’re thankful for because oddly enough you feel sick to your stomach). It feels like you’re skating on thin ice, waiting for the impending crack to sound through your heart, ice water swallowing you whole immediately. Chayoung is the one who pushes you forward, gingerly plucking the idle drink from your hand, Jimin aiding her efforts with a soft smile your way. 

It’s time for you to try the way Jeongguk has, put aside that bumbling ego that oversees your actions and adopt the humility he’s always granted you.

“Go,” she murmurs. “He misses you.”

And God you hope he does because you’ve missed him too. 

Except the moment his honey eyes land on you you know he hasn’t.

“Jeongguk,” you mumble. Yoonoh is frozen beside him, concerned gaze flicking between your faces. Your own eyes are stuck on him, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the subtle hint of the dimple in his cheeks. 

You’ve missed him, and it slips from your heart and brims in your eyes, vision blurry as your blink those stray tears back inside. 

“Hi,” you add, when his silence doesn’t break.

“I should probably go,” Yoonoh lets out, awkward words bumping into the wall of tension standing firm between you to. He settles a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, sending him a look that feels loaded. “See you guys later, right?”

You nod, finally noticing the lump clogging your throat. “Yeah, sure.” Jeongguk just hums, the edge of his cup caught between his lips. Yoonoh flees within seconds, leaving you to wade through this alone. 

“I–I know you’re not happy with me right now, but please, can we just talk?” He blinks at you, it feels like a premonition. “Please?”

“Okay.” The simple word fills you, like a hollow you weren’t aware of finally found the cure needed. 

“Okay,” a small smile on your lips. Jeongguk’s face is still unreadable. He guides you up and away from the deafening sound of the song bleeding from the speakers, into an empty room, the door closing behind him muting the music and giving way to the own pounding in your head. Nobody says anything for a second, both of you navigating this uncharted territory of animosity. Until Jeongguk sighs, melting into the bed at the centre of the room. You follow suit, allocating enough space between the two of you. You’ve ever had to do that before.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeongguk finally cuts through it, eyes unforgiving when he glances at you.

“I did! I do–Just Jeongguk,” you can’t help it drifting out. “I miss you.”

Nothing, not even a flicker in his eyes. He eyes shift to the floor instead. “Okay. I that what you wanted to say?”

“No–No not just that! I’ve missed you Jeongguk and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that i went off on you like that and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best towards you and I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like I didn’t care about you–or made you feel like the things I said or did had no meaning behind them. Because they do–they do because I love you. I love you so so much and I’m sorry if I made it seem like otherwise.” You automatically extend out for him, hoping to grasp on his thing floating to fast away from you. Jeongguk shifts and you hand tumbles down to the empty space between you instead, halted by his hesitance. 

His head drops into his palms a second later, a broken exhale leaving his lips. The motion cause the silver bracelet on his wrist to slip down the length of his arm. It jolts something in you. Jeongguk had given you a matching one but you’d ripped it off after the last argument and hadn’t considered putting it back on. But Jeongguk was still wearing his. 

“Do you really?”

“What?” He’s staring at you know, doe eyes cloudy.

“Do you really love me?” There, that stupid evil vile question that you thought you had the answer to but the words vanish in your head the longer he looks at you.

“I do–what? What are you implying? Of course, I do.”

“Of course, you do,” Jeongguk echoes. His eyes turn to the window located over his shoulder. You can see his head working through something, and you’re suddenly terrified fingertips itching to wander through his curls and coax those thoughts from his head. 

“Jeongguk? What the hell are you talking about? Talk to me, please.”

He sighs again, at it feels like your heart splinters. A sudden shake of his head and Jeongguk twists back to face you, a silent tear falling down his cheek.

“You don’t love me.”

“Wh–What are you talking about? I do! And how can you decide my feelings for me?”

“No. You don’t love me the way you think you do–the way you should.” It feels like he’s saying it to more than you, like he’s saying it to himself. “Maybe this the wrong choice to make. You know. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this.”

You shatter just like that, shards on the floor as you stare him, this person that you thought you knew. And maybe the feeling is mutual because Jeongguk is staring at you in a similar way, searching for the courage to say the words you know lie in his heart. Like a loaded cannon, waiting for the match to strike and leave you lying in pieces. 

“I think we should break–"

“No,” you cut him off with an adamance that you didn’t know existed until right then. “No, you’re not gonna say that and we are not doing this.”

His eyes narrow then, jaw set. “This is not about ‘us’, I’m doing what’s right for me.”

“How is that right? Huh, Jeongguk? Don’t you care about this? Don’t you care about me?”

He looks away then, ignoring your questions, his throat stuck. 

“Jeongguk...” You reach out again, and he allows it, shoulders sinking with the weight of your hand on them. “Don’t you care about me?”

Another heavy exhale, his eyes blinking hard. “I do. And that’s why this won’t work, not the way it should at least. I really think we should end this, or at least reconsider the reasons why we’re together. You say you love me–you say you always have but really–really think about it. About me and us and what we are. I’m sorry, I really am but I just can’t do this anymore.”

He rises then, your outstretched hand tumbling down to the empty space he’d left behind. You can’t move it, can’t breathe, your heart hurtling out of your chest and onto the ground where it lies, fragmented beyond repair and bleeding bare. You glance up through tears, watch him open his mouth and then it and look away. 

“Do you mean it?” You finally ask, and his eyes snap to you. He knows what you’re saying. There’s a pause that stretches out for eternity, coloured by the sound of the ringing in your head.

“Maybe.” It cuts right through you, lodging itself deep with intent. And then you just have to nod, swallow the scream clawing at your throat. He murmurs one more apology before his feet carry him away, and you watch, forlorn as you burn his frame into your memory, as your whole world walks out the door.

[onlyswan]

adrenaline rush | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader

→ genre: fluff, established relationship

→ warnings: emotional trauma / manipulation / abuse, gaslighting, alcohol abuse / dependence, depression, anxiety, nightmare, mention of physical assault bc jk is angry . pls lmk if i missed anything

→ word count: 3.2k

↳ gold rush | love rush | sugar rush | adrenaline rush | zest rush

summary: you don’t need to pretend, and jungkook’s face looks bewitching beneath the sun.

note: i tried to proofread but it’s difficult IM SO SORRY breaks down . i’m honestly more on writing poetry and prose but i’m having fun with this thank u to everyone being so sweet :]

~*~

endless epiphanies have been occuring on jungkook’s mind ever since you opened up about your past relationship and the aftermath of it. he found himself crying like a goddamn child. because you weren’t crying. you weren’t crying at all. you just nervously smiled at him during pauses you made to allow him to process your words. for fuck’s sake, you were picking off lint from his sweatpants. you tried your very best to be composed and help him understand all the things you’ve been longing share. and he thought you must’ve been exhausted all this time, picking up the broken shards of yourself all while trying to protect your progress.

“he was far above me in every sense. he made sure to make me feel that way. we were in a relationship, but somehow, he still felt untouchable. my life revolved around agonizing over how i can better myself to be worthy of him. it was all about him. he was so good at the start, you know? until he could only be bothered to show an effort when he needed something, and i gave and i gave without hesitation. i altered anything he didn’t like. because i thought i was the problem. that all of me would never be enough. i was so naive and stupid.”

jungkook is livid upon hearing about how you were treated. he can’t bear to imagine you at such a toxic situation where someone is finding amusement in watching you destroy yourself for them. you sincerely believed that you would never be enough. it absolutely makes him see red. he wants to beat the shit out of who made you feel this way. his eyebrows were furrowed, mouth in a seething light lipped frown. you took his trembling hands in yours in attempt to soothe him.

the sorrowful and begging look on your eyes encouraged him to gather himself. this isn’t about him. you’re unlocking chapters of your life filled with trauma, pain, and regrets because you trust him to know you entirely as a person. and so, he listened intently, with an open mind and heart. it’s the least i can do. to let you know that i’m here, and i’m here to stay.

“i became distant from my friends. they never liked him. i should’ve listened.” you smiled bitterly. “that’s what we all say in the end, don’t we? so stupid.” you shook your head. “at some point, i woke up and realized i was miserable. i couldn’t recognize myself anymore. i lost sight of what truly matters to me, and who i truly mattered to. i wanted an out. but he cried and he begged. and then i thought, maybe he finally loved me. maybe he’d finally take the initiative. so i took him back. again, so fucking stupid.”

“i thought we were fine, but it became worse. he fucked with my head. he wanted to make me look like the bad guy. to be able to say that he was the one who ended it. he’s smart. i’ll give him that.” you sneered. resentment comes rushing back to your veins. you remember his mocking smirk and condescending tone all too well. how you visibly shrink underneath his gaze. you mistook the racing of your heart as love instead of anxiety and fear. you start to become nauseous. you surrendered to him all the power to run your life to the ground, and it will remain as the biggest mistake of your life.

“he broke up with me. that day, i didn’t feel like a person. he accused me of so many things, said such big words that made me feel so small. i was so humiliated and angry, mostly at myself. what if he was right? no, why did i let this happen to me? and then i left, but i didn’t come home.”

it was jungkook’s turn to hold your trembling figure. “baby, you’re shaking.” he sniffled, caging your face in his big hands. he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed your forehead lovingly. oh, jungkook. you didn’t even notice you were shaking. you mostly felt numb as you recalled the past events. “shhh, it’s okay. we can stop here, and you tell me the rest when you’re ready. i know this is difficult for you, my love.” he ran his hands up and down your arms to help soothe you. he grabbed the blanket from the armrest and wrapped it around you, then carried you over to his lap to embrace your still trembling body.

as you settle into his warmth, you only then perceived that you were overwhelmed with the information you poured out. you have never said these words out loud, they only wander aimlessly around your brain and you get stuck inside. now that they’re out in the open, it once again registered that what you’ve gone through was really fucking dreadful and you wonder how you still ended up here, in the safety of jungkook’s arms. his hushed whispers of comfort and sincere confessions of love gradually lulls you into ease as you nuzzle your face on his neck.

jungkook’s fingers brushed through your hair, gently rocking your body back and forth. “none of it was your fault. you did nothing wrong, okay? you deserved none of that.” you looked up to him and felt your chest tighten upon seeing the dampness under his eyes. “i’m so sorry. that piece of shit didn’t deserve your kindness. i’d give you the world if i could.”

“i have you here right now, i already got the world.” you smiled, pinching his soft cheek. pretty. “i’m fine. i promise. i love you so much. do you know that?”

he attempted to look away but you kept your hand firm. he released a shaky breath before meeting your eyes. “of course, i do. i love you, too. i love you so much.” and you wish you could keep this moment forever in your heart. just incase he changes his mind.

“i didn’t come home. i bought alcohol and went over to my best friend’s house. i was heartbroken. i got wasted and she thought it would just be a one- or two-time thing. but no, i was stubborn.” your hand gripped at his clothing as your voice cracked. “it was so bad. i left home with my uniform on but i skipped school and spent all my allowance on drinking. i got into a lot of trouble outside. there were some times i thought i wouldn’t be able to come home in one piece. i don’t know how i’m even still here. my grades were tanking. that caused a lot of rumors at school because i was an overachiever. i got pissed, so i drank some more. and then one day my parents found me passed out on our doorstep. they were furious. they threatened not to pay for my college, and then they wanted to disown me because apparently i brought shame to their household.”

you grew more anxious and self conscious under jungkook’s gaze. there it was. it’s easier to get angry at your parents, but deep down, you know they were right. you weren’t using your brain. seeing you become such a mess probably satisfied that heinous person more. was it worth it? the harsh bitter liquid burning your throat, the way the world spinned and became an unrecognizable blur as you drowned yourself in another bottle; how you laughed and cried and laughed some more. the scar on your knee from tripping on uneven pavements as you drag your weary vessel all the way home. the walk of shame on the hallway and the hangover from yesterday you persevered through your classes. that day you got suspended for being caught with alcohol in your backpack after promising your parents you’d stop, and the white walls of the hospital closing in as the withdrawal symptoms took a toll on you. the sympathetic smiles of the nurses made you feel more disgusted with yourself.

jungkook broke the defeaning silence as you willed yourself not to fall apart. i’m alright. i’m stronger than this. it’s okay. “but you’re here right now,” he said softly. “you’re okay, right? i mean . . . there’s nothing wrong? with like - you’re better now. you’re healthy?” he shot his questions frantically, concerned eyes darting around your body.

you blinked at him in confusion. “do you think i’m sick? i’m not dying, kook. my liver is fine, thankfully.” his mouth gaped open and shut like a fish, before releasing a relieved sigh. oh my god.

“oh, t-that’s good. for a second i thought-”

“baby . . .” you took his face in your hands and wiped the tears that escaped him with the blanket. “i got better before i got past the point of saving. it was difficult, and i thought i’d never get past it. but i did. i’m here right now,” you smiled at him as a good memory washes over you. “do you know what helped me? books. i picked up a book, and then i was just reading through it all.” really, that’s when the obsession started. you stopped running, and got transported into different worlds and dimensions. instead of ridding of the memories, you override them with entertaining stories and useful knowledge.

jungkook smiled back at you, his rosey nose scrunching adorably. of course. her life do literally depends on them.

“i’m so proud of you. and i hope you are, too. you’re so kind, and brave, and strong.” for the first time, someone who knew about it looked at you with no sympathy or judgement. his eyes twinkled of admiration. as if you just did a heroic act and carried an entire airplane; as if you were his favorite person in the planet.

“i hope you’re no longer placing any blame on yourself. you deserve to be happy and celebrated. and i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens. healing is not linear. you’re not expected to be okay all the time. you don’t need to pretend with the people who love you.” he gently took your hand and kissed it, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. “thank you for the trust you placed in me. i love you. i treasure you.”

the universe was truly on my side that night.

~*~

you jolt awake, your feet kicking away the blanket. your heart is thumping against your chest and you’re shivering uncontrollably. you wrap your arms around yourself to seek for comfort, but to no avail, they don’t cease.

jungkook groans, caressing his cheek that you accidentally hit as he was mostly laying on top of you, his face buried in the expanse of your neck. he swiftly becomes alert at the sight trembling figure in the dark. he turns on the nightlight and gives his full attention to you.

“baby? another bad dream?”

“it was horrible. i was so scared.” even your voice wavers, and you curse your brain for giving you a nightmare for the third time this week. why can’t i just dream of rainbows and unicorns?

he pulls you into his arms, peppering your face with kisses. “shhh, you’re safe now. nothing will hurt you here.” you close your eyes at his calming voice, but open them again when you saw flashes of the dream. “do you want to talk about it?”

you shook your head. “just hold me?”

“of course, baby,”

“thank you,” you whisper. on another thought. “can i also have a kiss?” he chuckles at your request. he presses his lips against yours, lingering for a few seconds before placing another kiss on the corner of your mouth. the sweetest. you hum in satisfaction. “thank you. that was nice.”

“just nice?” he pouts.

“amazing? show stopping? took my breath away?” you tilt your head, acting as if you’re thinking deeply.

“that’s more like it.” he flashes you his pretty smile. “are you going back to sleep?” he rakes his fingers on your hair, carefully fixing the tangles.

you glance at the clock sitting on the nightstand. “i don’t want to anymore. i feel better now, though. go back to sleep.” you climb off him so he can lay back down but he doesn’t move a muscle.

“do you want to go and watch the sunrise?”

well, that does sound tempting but… “babe, you have work in a few hours.” you remind him, patting the space beside you.

“so? that’s fine. i don’t have much to do anyway.” he crawls out of the bed excitedly and takes your hand. “come on, babyyy,” he drags out a whine. well, i guess i don’t have a choice now.

holding hands with jungkook, you find a good spot to watch the sunset. you’re not surprised to see some people at the park already. damn, are they committed to jogging.

he halts in front of a tree. “this is a nice spot. me and my friends have been here before.” he explains as he lays out a picnic blanket. you sit comfortably to take in the place you are at. you hear the birds chirping and the leaves rustling; the cold morning breeze sweeps past you, gently blowing against your hair. you pull at the sleeves of your thick sweater to cover your freezing hands, rubbing them against one another. it’s one of those moments that feels so nice and tranqil, you could cry out of joy.

jungkook grabs your hands in his and blows warm air on them, keeping them close to his chest to casually rub. “you should’ve added another layer. you know how it gets cold in the morning.” he scolds you.

“but this sweater is really cute.” you argue. “i will risk having freezing hands for fashion.”

“no one is even around here to judge your fashion sense!”

“yes, there are. what do you call those people sitting on the bench?” you gesture to your right where the benches are located.

“they’re not even looking at you.”

“shall i strut in front of them then?”

jungkook laughs with eyes closed. a smile forms on your face at the sight. god, there is really no way someone can be so beautiful. and it seems i make him laugh a lot. maybe my job here is done.

“i won’t stop you if you want to do it.” he answers lightheartedly. you pinch his rosy cheek to indulge in your irresistible urge. he swats your arm away, covering his cheek with his hand. “stop abusing my cheeks!”

“well, stop being adorable if you don’t want your cheeks pinched.”

he fakes a gasp. “that’s fucking outrageous. i was born this way.”

“should i blame your parents instead?”

“you know what? they are to be blamed.”

“jungkook, shut up and look at the sky.”

he follows where your gaze is trained. his eyes widen as he marvels at the sunrise. the skies is painted in different shades of purple, with strokes of the orange sun. he’s not much of a morning person, so he rarely witnesses the sunrise. he thinks he might’ve been greatly missing out because, “what the fuck,”

“right?” you respond absentmindedly, completely enchanted by the view in front of you. it doesn’t look real. it looks too majestic to be real. you are once again captured in the fact that the planet holds endless wonders a person could never fully explore in one lifetime. you begin to wonder if you got to travel the world in your past life. and if parallel universes are real, how cool would it be one of other yous is watching the sunset right now?

“stay right here,” jungkook suddenly says before standing up and dashing into the distance.

“what?” your question dissolves into thin air as he turns smaller and smaller in your sight. what the fuck did that man run so fast for? whatever. you take your phone from your pocket and capture pictures. you don’t want to forget this day. you sighed dreamily. am i really awake right now?

“where the fuck did you get that?” you exclaim, puzzled at your boyfriend setting up a painting canvas. beside him are his art materials, neatly organized and well taken care of.

“from my car,” he replies as if the answer is so obvious. he reaches for something from his back and hands you a book. “may i paint you? you can read so you don’t get bored.”

you look at him in disbelief, tightly clutching one of the books he gave you. “when did i ever say no to being your muse?” his face evidently brightens at your words.

“my muse . . . thank you! just be natural. pretend i’m not here.”

he quickly gets into work, examining the colors of the sky as he mixes paint on the palette. you follow his every move, completely in awe of him. his artistic talents never fails to amaze you.

love blooms in your chest as you casually glance up to him from your book. the glow of the sky reflects on his face, and you decide he’s still the most beautiful thing you will ever get the chance to witness. you also sneakily took a picture of him for your ever growing boyfriend folder. he gets so absorbed once he touches his art materials. he’s incredibly passionate and hardworking. he has faith in his abilities, but he has never stopped seeking new ways to improve and grow. he’s inspiring, and he also motivates you to be better.

he smiles at you when your eyes meet, and it just sparks something in you. a lump grows in your throat, your eyes start watering, and soon enough the tears spill down your cheeks. soft sobs escape your mouth as you hastily wipe them away with your sweater paws, but you just can’t stop now that the dam has been released.

“you’re finally crying,” jungkook says softly. he feels so relieved that he might cry too. you find him kneeling in front you, pulling your hands away from your face. “it’s okay, darling. just let it all out. it’s not good to hold back tears.” you feel safe to fall apart in his arms and so, at last, you give in to the cathartic release. and you think, the sun graced the sky this morning to witness your long overdue mourning. grief for lost time, energy, money, and the parts of yourself forever gone.

jungkook is there the entire time, being his ever so caring self. you don’t know how long it took for your sobs to subside into tiny hiccups. you take the tissue he offered to blow your nose, looking away from him in embarrassment. he chuckles, “how do you feel?”

“i feel good. actually, i feel amazing.”

did i just really need a good cry all this time?

“thank you, baby.”

“for what?”

“for bringing me here. for everything.” your chin quivers again. he wipes your tears with his thumbs this time, before leaning down for a passionate kiss. you’re lost in the way his soft lips moved against yours, his tongue never missing a chance to tease you. he playfully bites your bottom lip and then leans his forehead against yours. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you back away and open your abandoned book, biting your bottom lip as the kiss you just shared lingers. “now go back there and finish your painting. don’t you hate unfinished works?”

his doe eyes widen, scampering back to his forgotten canvas. he pulls down his sleeves and dips his paintbrush on the palette. “where the hell did i stop?”

---

note: yn got attracted to toxicity. after being freed from the relationship she resorted to another form of it because she became well versed in self destruction. then she discovered a healthier form of escapism thru reading books :] also being w jk is making her realize that while love is unconditional, it doesn’t necessarily have to painful in order to be real. haha no i’m not projecting ??? gn

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

IUI - The Way I Love You

bear with me here folks

I know the Idiots are usually soft af. but my lovely spouse/fiance/soon-to-be-fiance and beta @dani-dandelino hit me with an idea and I added a dash handful of angst bc i couldn’t help it

Warnings: feelings of inadequacy, fear of breakup (no actual breakup I promise), miscommunication, drunk af Geralt, past shitty relationships, happy ending tho I promise, there’s tears but they’re happy I swear.

______________________________________

Geralt only ever got sloppy drunk when Jaskier was the DD. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t trust anyone else, it was that he didn’t trust his drunk boyfriend not to goad him into something stupid. 

The last time they’d both gotten fucked up outside of their apartment they woke up with three traffic cones and a “Speed Hump” sign in their living room. When they asked Triss what happened she sent them a video of them giggling as they tried to fit the sign into her trunk.

After hanging the sign in their apartment, they decided it may be best to take turns. 

This particular instance, they’d dropped Triss and Yen off and were on their way home, Geralt’s head lolling against the window as he fought to stay awake. 

“I’m not carrying your perky ass upstairs,” Jaskier laughed, snapping his fingers near Geralt’s ear. 

Geralt grumbled but sat up straight and leaned into Jaskier’s outstretched hand, “Radio.”

Affectionately rolling his eyes, Jaskier pulled his hand away and flipped on the radio. Geralt immediately gasped and started singing along off key and slurred. The first time Jaskier heard Geralt scream along to Taylor Swift he’d been shocked, if extremely endeared. 

“BUT I MISS SCREAMIN’ AND FIGHTIN AND KISSIN IN THE RAIN! IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSIN’ YOUR NAME! SO IN LOVE THAT WE ACTED INSANE, AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOUUUUUUUUU!”

Jaskier turned the volume down to a reasonable level when Geralt cranked it so loud his ears might start ringing. He rolled his eyes when Geralt started singing it to him, taking the shortcut home and trying to ignore the little pit forming in his stomach. 

When the song ended Geralt turned the radio down and picked up his hand not gripping the steering wheel, “Jask?”

“Mhm?”

Even in the car, Geralt glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, “I have a secret.”

Fear flared in Jaskier’s chest but he took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself who he was talking to. His boyfriend thought secrets were fun. Mostly because Geralt’s version of a secret was keeping what he made for dinner a surprise until Jaskier got home. He’d even felt guilty not telling Jaskier he was seeing a therapist when they’d started dating. For all his gruff exterior and suspicion, Geralt really was an open book with those he loved and trusted. Jaskier had a very different idea of what secrets in a relationship meant. 

“What’s that, love?” 

Geralt giggled as he traced the edges of a magnolia on the back of Jaskier’s wrist, “That is the way I love you.”

Luckily for Jaskier’s car, they were rolling up to a stop sign. He had time to loose his breath for a moment and fight back the initial feeling of shame and anger with himself before he pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel as he punched the gas. 

Through gritted teeth, he said the gentlest thing he could think of, “We don’t kiss in the rain.”

Geralt frowned, almost pouted at him, “I still love you.”

A part of Jaskier wanted to scream at Geralt, another part wanted to pull over and make him walk home, thankfully the loudest part reminded him the idiot was just drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying and he thought he was being sweet. There was also a good possibility he would cry himself to sleep in the passenger seat if Jaskier yelled at him and last time he tried to carry Geralt to bed his back hurt for a week. 

“I love you too,” Jaskier sighed as he pulled into their parking spot. 

He didn’t sleep well that night. Not because his sweaty, smelly, and fidgety boyfriend clung to him in his sleep, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ride home. 

Jaskier had lived in relationships like that for most of his adult life. Hell, even in his teens. They were nothing but all consuming passion with no connection to support it and left both parties jaded and lost. When he left his mentor he’d sat in Yen’s chair for hours and hours, until his arm had gone numb, and the only thing he could think was ‘never again’. 

And now Geralt thought he was being cute. The ridiculously meticulous and serious man was only ever sappy when he got drunk and now instead of reveling in it like he’d like, Jaskier was staring at the clock on his nightstand calculating how exhausted he’d be in the morning as the minutes ticked by. 

Turns out, he was at least in the land of the living by the time Geralt shuffled into the kitchen with his hands in his hair and a pained expression. 

“Feel like shit.”

Jaskier hummed in agreement as he sipped his morning tea and shifted in his seat to see better out the window. 

After popping a few anti-inflammatories and nibbling on a cracker before giving up on food, Geralt lumbered up behind Jaskier and draped his arms over his shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

“S’nothing. I’m just being… touchy.”

Geralt pressed a light kiss over the hellebore tattoo on Jaskier’s neck, “I doubt it.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Jaskier laid his hand over Geralt’s arm across his chest, “I don’t want to lose this.”

“Why…? What makes you think you would?” Geralt was a little slower on the draw hungover, but he knelt next to Jaskier’s chair and rested a hand on his knee as he waited for a response. He only ever looked so worried when Roach had an abscess and it broke Jaskier’s heart. He didn’t want to say it and ruin everything. 

After a deep breath in, he mumbled out his answer, “Do you really love me like that song?”

“What song?” Geralt breathed, his thumb brushing back and forth over Jaskier’s knee.

“The uh, Way I Loved You one.”

Geralt searched his face for a beat, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening, “Of course I do.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling as he forced all the air from his lungs in the hopes it would do something to stop the tears from falling. When it was clear he would lose the battle he leaned forward with his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands.

“You… don’t want me to?” Geralt sounded close to tears himself, but he didn’t take his hand off Jaskier’s thigh. 

“No- yes! No?” Jaskier sniffed and wiped at his face but didn’t lean back to look at Geralt, “I- Geralt I can’t just fill a hollow relationship with lust. We ha- I thought we had more? But if you want the- the fights and the hate fucking- I don’t- Geralt I don’t want that. Not with anyone but not with you. Ne-”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt tugged at Jaskier’s arm, gathering him to his chest when the brunette melted into sobs, “I don’t want that. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry I let you think that.” He cradled Jaskier’s head to his shoulder, pressing kisses into his hair between softly spoken apologies and reassurances. They stayed there until Jaskier’s tea went cold and his sobs were closer to little gasps. 

Eventually, Jaskier lifted his head and met Geralt’s eyes, “H-how do you love me?”

Geralt licked his lips, his voice barely above a whisper, “Not- It’s not hollow.”

Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Geralt’s, “Please?”

One of Geralt’s hands came up to cup Jaskier’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you… I never wanted to be romantic with anyone until you. You… You make me feel… safe. I’m never bored of you or numb or sick of you. This is the first relationship I’ve had where I bother to fight, Jask. I love you so much it makes me do things I never thought to do and I’m glad and I never want to change anything about us. Never.” 

A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine as relief flooded his whole body. His throat ached from crying and his shoulders were sore from holding all that tension in a way they hadn’t for years, but he’d never felt so good. Geralt loved him. Him. Not some tumultuous relationship or the sex or the drama of it all. Someone finally loved him for him. 

It hadn’t really hit Jaskier till then. They’d said ‘I love you’, sure, but he hadn’t really believed Geralt, just like he’d stopped believing the string of selfish lovers before him. 

“Thank Mellitelle,” Jaskier laughed, just on this side of hysterical as he tightened his grip around Geralt’s shoulders, “I fucking love how boring we are. And you. Fuck I really really do love you.”

“Even when I smell like my regulars?” Geralt teased, intentionally huffing a little extra and dosing Jaskier in his horrendous hangover morning breath.

Jaskier wrinkled his nose but smiled and kissed him anyway, “Of course.”

“Mhh,” Geralt pulled away for a moment, brushing his thumb over Jaskier’s crows feet in a silent request for him to open his eyes, “Can we go back to bed?”

“The crying does it for you, huh?” Jaskier chuckled, his voice was still weak but his laugh was genuine.

“I’m so dizzy, Jask,” squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slightly, Geralt plopped back onto his heels. If Jaskier hadn’t witnessed just how much he drank he’d say he was lying, but Jaskier was truly surprised he’d even climbed out of bed this morning.

“Mkay, up. Back to bed then.”

They settled under the blankets and tangled themselves back together. Geralt hummed, closing his eyes and squeezing Jaskier a little tighter.

New, happier tears threatened at the corners of his eyes but he pushed them down, opting to trace the corner of Geralt’s buttercup tattoo peeking out of his shirt, “I love you.”

Geralt took a deep breath in before he sighed out a rumbling, “I know.”

“No, Geralt. Really,” Jaskier laid his hand over the yellow and green ink, “I’ve said these words more times than I can count but I don’t think I ever really understood them until you.”

“Jaski-”

“I love you,” Jaskier’s interruption was far smaller and far more fragile than he had intended. His words just continued to spill out, “You’re steady and calm and I’ve never had that. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like and I’m constantly scared I’m gonna fuck it up…”

Comforting fingers ran through his hair as Geralt murmured his reply, “Me too,” Jaskier just squeezed his shoulder in a bit of solidarity and a bit of selfish comfort, “But I think we’re doing alright…”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” Geralt started, shifting so he was practically engulfing Jaskier, “we both still love each other, and...” his boyfriend pinched him when he trailed off, pretending to fall asleep in a way that always mad Jaskier giggle, “Ow- and you use the hooks by the front door.” 

“I do, don’t I?” Jaskier sniffled, “And you used your words.”

“I’d use all the words for you.”

“All of them?”

Geralt really was drifting away this time, his words coming slowly as his arms relaxed and Jaskier felt their full weight over him, “Not well, but I would...” 

[crossdressingdeath]

"Boys will be boys" logic is interesting since WWX himself basically uses that exact excuse in the book when he tells LWJ not to take JC's homophobic rant/assault seriously in the ancestral hall bc that's just how JC is, as if WWX himself wasn't furious when JC targeted LWJ in that scene. A lot of WWX's famed unreliable narration is rationalizing the crazy shit JC does but sometimes people tend to take it at face value.

Yes, exactly! That is such a huge thing. WWX spends so much time telling himself (and through himself the audience) that oh, it can’t be helped when JC mistreats him, JC is just like that, it’s totally fine, he doesn’t mind, and we see how that viewpoint was encouraged and strengthened by the people around him, especially JYL (sorry Shijie but it’s true). Hell, you could argue that this particular aspect of his character was entirely her doing, given YZY just thinks he should be subordinate to JC in all things and JFM mostly ignores JC’s behaviour; it’s just JYL going for the “oh boys will be boys, you’re strong and always smiling, you can take it” angle.

...Actually, let’s go into that a bit more because it very much gets buried under the “best sister” shit; I am prepared to argue that JYL consistently taking JC’s side did serious damage to WWX. Like, she was the only Jiang who consistently showed him affection and support and he convinced himself that it was unconditional! But the “unconditional” aspect was an illusion entirely based on his ability to consistently and convincingly pretend that JC wasn’t hurting him. WWX isn’t stupid, I don’t doubt for a second that he knew JYL would take JC’s side if it came down to it. She always takes JC’s side from day one. Literally; she hears WWX say he’ll take the blame for JC chasing him out of Lotus Pier and getting WWX’s leg broken while all JC did was come out looking for WWX personally (instead of doing the smart and more helpful thing and getting adults to help) because he was scared he’d get in trouble and he got a little scrape because he was running through the woods like an idiot because, again, he was too scared of getting in trouble to GET ACTUAL HELP THAT WASN’T A CHILD and she’s like “Yeah, that sounds reasonable and fair and not like a really, really bad precedent to set with a kid whose safety relies on my family liking him”. ...There’s also an aspect of “Sure, it can’t hurt to let the kid my mother very clearly hates take responsibility for something that he could be punished for by someone with a motive to take everything possible as a wrongdoing on WWX’s part”, but to be fair at this point she doesn’t know YZY will whip WWX for literally anything she can even slightly suggest is any sort of wrongdoing on WWX’s part. And let’s not pretend WWX wasn’t punished for JC getting hurt; come on, it’s YZY, she punishes him for sunbathing.

This is a running thing going forward in their dynamic, too! JC does something horrible, JYL immediately starts in on the “Oh, boys will be boys, A-Cheng might get upset if you call him out on his shit” shtick if WWX shows the slightest trace of dissatisfaction with being treated like garbage, WWX smiles and forgives JC for whatever he did without question, there’s a period of calm, the cycle repeats. JYL very much teaches WWX that he cannot EVER show any unhappiness with JC’s threats and insults. If he ever shows so much as a shred of anger or sadness or generally being upset at the way JC mistreats him JYL takes JC’s side. At most she’ll tell JC that maybe he should back off a little while basically telling WWX to grin and bear it because JC might be slightly upset if anyone ever calls him out on being horrible to literally everyone. And don’t even get me started on the whole “Oh you’re always smiling” bullshit, talk about teaching a mistreated orphan that he has literally no right to look sad about anything ever. Like, let me put it this way: WWX doesn’t even feel he can go to JYL about JC TRYING TO KILL HIM. That’s a lot? It’s a lot? And it never really gets discussed in any way? WWX doesn’t feel like he can tell his supposed sister who supposedly loves him unconditionally that her brother tried to murder him like three times and when the third time comes up JYL takes JC’s side because JC’s arm got broken in the process of the staged fight where JC stabbed WWX in the gut and that’s fine and healthy apparently. Stan WQ, the actual best sister (god I love WQ).

Anyway, now that I’m done enraging the fandom with my tangent about how much JYL sucks as a sister to WWX... Yeah, WWX insists that JC’s attitude can’t be helped because JC’s just like that even when he very clearly doesn’t buy that? He’s obviously pissed when JC goes after LWJ to the point of genuinely going after JC for it... but when they get away from JC he goes into the “Oh, he can’t help it, don’t get mad at him”. And in this particular case part of it is him panicking because JC’s homophobic ranting (and LWJ’s clear anger at it) left him questioning his and LWJ’s feelings and the mutuality thereof, but it also... really does throw every other time he insists JC’s behaviour is fine into question. Like, we know he’s not buying his own line in this scene! He was furious at JC! He’s still furious and upset! But he feels the need to cover for JC. Even after he’s realized that JC’s behaviour wasn’t okay, he still feels like he has to protect him from anyone else getting angry at him. WWX knows JC’s behaviour isn’t okay and that it’s not fair that JC treats him the way he does and I’d argue (especially at this point in the story) that he deserves better than JC’s treatment... but he still insists that JC is just like that and it’s fine.

That throws every single time WWX smiles through JC’s mistreatment into question, I’d say; we know he’ll react this way even when he knows that JC’s behaviour isn’t okay, so who’s to say he ever isn’t aware that JC’s behaviour isn’t okay? In CQL XZ does an excellent job of showing that at least in that continuity he is extremely done with JC’s shit even from when they’re fifteen; the novel is as far as I remember a little less clear, but it’s still pretty obvious that he’s not enjoying the way JC treats him. He knows that the way JC treats him is hurtful and upsetting and sometimes even frightening (think of the times JC threatens him with dogs and he’s clearly scared, which is a whole other thing because either he’s so scared of dogs that even the threat terrifies him or he has zero doubt that JC for sure would set dogs on him, which is a big thing either way and also I’m still not over how CQL JYL laughs when JC threatens WWX with dogs even though WWX is clearly scared and she totally would’ve laughed if that happened in the novel too but showing it so blatantly and then never actually getting into how messed up it is is just unnecessary), but he feels like he has to smile through it and cover for JC, just like when they were nine.

Anyway yeah, for a fandom so obsessed with WWX being an unreliable narrator the MDZS/CQL fandom sure does miss a lot of times where WWX is actually being unreliable, huh.

[spencersawkward]

I love your ff first of all, I'm obsessed and second of all I would ask you a suggestion, idk if maybe is that too much and you're totally free to not do that but you ever thought to do something in the line of the knive kink? I think it will be awesome

i'm so sorry this took so long! big thanks to my guardian angel @voidsfilm for giving me inspiration bc i literally struggled with this one more than i should have. never written a knife kink but i’m glad i tried lol.

summary: reader finds an antique knife that Matthew's kept in a drawer.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), knife play (no blood drawn), Soft!Dom MGG, degradation and praise.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

if there is one thing I absolutely despise, it's working out. getting sweaty, running until my legs hurt and my lungs are burning for air... not really my thing.

but when Matthew brought up the idea a couple months into our relationship, I couldn't say no to him: he had a goofy smile on his face and the kind of look in his eyes that made me relent and ask what kind of stuff he wanted to do.

I think that I've found the one thing that Matthew can't make fun.

"I'm gonna pass out." I bend over and set my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Matthew slows to a stop a few feet ahead, turning around and making a strained expression.

"oh, come on." but his voice is pretty breathless, too. he gently guides me off the path so that we don't get in the way of the other people out enjoying the day. a couple walks by us with their dog, strolling calmly, and I feel a rush of envy. if our workout routine had consisted of a few pleasant ambles around the city, I would have been totally willing.

"Matthew, I wanna go home." I whine impatiently. the only nice thing about this is that he's got one of those stupid sweatbands on his head to keep his hair out of his face, and it makes him look like a 1980's housewife.

"we can go home in fifteen minutes." he smiles, puts his hands on his hips, stretching in an exaggerated way.

"do you promise?" I brush a piece of hair out of my face.

"promise," he's lucky he looks so cute in his workout outfit. "we can even get one of those fancy juices for you on the way back."

"seriously?" I light up. this might actually be worth it; they have this amazing mango and lime combination that I can't ever manage to recreate with our own blender.

"if you beat me to the rock, then sure." he references the enormous boulder in Central Park that we both gawked at on our first date-- ever since then, it's been the end point for our runs. my lips curl into a grin.

"you're on." I take off, making sure to push him out of the way in order to gain a head start. he lets out something of a protestation but is quick to follow. I can feel his feet pounding behind me, trying to catch up.

I may not be good at running long distances, but I'm sure as hell faster than he is.

...

it's quiet when I step out of the bedroom, drying my hair with the towel and wandering into the living room. Matthew is sitting at the table with his sketchbook, drawing god knows what while he waits for me to finish up.

"what are you up to?" I ask softly as I plop down across from him. my head is slightly tilted while the towel rubs my scalp.

"I'm not really sure." he shrugs, frowning and holding up the notebook from a distance as if that'll help him figure out what to do.

"can I see when you're done?"

"of course," he sets it on the table again, then runs a fingertip across his chin. "actually, can you do me a favor?"

"sure."

"I have a set of colored pencils in the desk over there," he points to an old piece of furniture under the window. "would you mind getting them for me?"

"yep," I reply, getting up and leaving the towel on the table. "least I can do after kicking your ass."

on the walk past him, Matthew grabs my waist and pulls me into him, attacks me with tickles. I squeal and hit his shoulder.

"stop!" I laugh.

"you barely beat me!" he gives a dazzling smile and finally lets me go. I lightly smack him upside the head and head over to the desk, rifling through the drawers for the colored pencils he wanted.

as I push around various art supplies, glue sticks and random paintbrushes that look to be on the brink of falling apart, my fingers pass something cool and metallic. I grab the thing and pull it out.

it's a knife; like, a fancy one with an intricately decorated handle and what seems to be a pretty dulled edge. before he can notice what I've found, I start to move the thing between my hands curiously. there's a nice weight to it, but it's definitely old.

"hey, Matthew?" I ask warily.

"yeah?" so unassuming and sweet.

"why do you have a knife?"

there's a scratching as he gets up from the table to walk over to me. I lean against the desk. Matthew doesn't seem too bothered by what I'm saying at all, only gently taking the weapon out of my hands and examining it himself.

"oh, yeah!" he lets out something like a laugh. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. "do you remember when we went antiquing in Cape Cod, like, a month ago?"

"yeah." I nod at the memory. he'd been lucky enough to get some vacation days and we'd spent them sitting by the water with glasses of wine and nothing but time to talk. it really was a great trip, now that I think about it.

"I found it there." he still hasn't looked up and I realize that there's something he's not telling me. I don't know what I'm missing, but I start to get nervous.

"...why?"

"I was gonna ask then, but I guess I just forgot." his tongue darts out across his bottom lip as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. my heart thuds when he opens his mouth again. "I kinda wanted to try something."

"like?"

"I've been thinking about maybe using knives... in a sexual way."

"what?" I frown, confused by his wording. Matthew seems to realize that he's phrased it awkwardly and shifts his stance. he keeps glancing between the object and my face like he's worried about scaring me away.

"I don't mean I'm gonna stab you or anything," he laughs. "I just mean I think it sounds fun."

my hand finds his, brushing my palm over the steel to touch it myself again. there's a curiosity that burns through me now, something I'm a little unsure about but not enough so to deny the possibility of trying it.

"what do you wanna do with it?" I peek up at him. he bites his lip. we're speaking in gentle tones and I notice that our bodies have gotten closer within the last few moments. a warmth, a tension.

"like, pressing the blade flat against your skin while I fuck you." he takes the thing and demonstrates. the cool silver rests on my neck, too dull to really threaten a serious cut if he were to move too quickly. a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of the metal.

I gulp, feel the curve of my throat push against it when I swallow. it's nice.

"oh." is all I say. Matthew is watching me intently, but he doesn't make any motion away from it. like he's entranced by the sight of me with a knife to my throat.

"are you interested?" he asks.

I mull it over. on the one hand, weapon play is something I've never considered in my sex life before. Matthew and I aren't vanilla, but this hasn't crossed my mind. that said, now that I can really feel it, there is a desire forming in my stomach. it would be a strange, new sensation.

"yes." the confirmation makes him smile a little. he lowers the thing and instead wraps me in his arms, kisses me passionately until our tongues are dancing over each other. I love how he holds me, our torsos against each other while my body leans slightly back to accept the weight of his touch.

he goes to my head like alcohol. and it's even more surreal when I feel the blade move under the hem of my shirt to rest against my back. I smile into his mouth. he doesn't do anything with it, just leaves it to remind me.

he starts to rut his hips against my lower stomach, getting aroused at the proximity of our bodies and the heated nature of our kiss. there's an urgency to all of it, like he's holding back. I don't want him to hold back; I want him to give me everything he has, everything beneath the surface.

my fingers twine in his hair and tug on the ends, causing him to groan into our embrace. there's no way we're going to make it all the way to the bedroom with the way he's grabbing at my body, so I stumble backwards towards the couch until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of it.

"you're horny." I giggle slightly when he pushes the hem of my shirt up my body, his nails dragging over my ribcage and trailing the object along with it. I feel the excitement growing.

"I'm just glad you're willing to try this." he murmurs the words, holds our foreheads together before his lips eagerly seek mine out, again. somehow, even with a weapon leveled against me, I can sense the love in every single action. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't trust him to treat me with the utmost care.

I work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his lovely shoulders and arms as he unclasps my bra. we're fervent, greedy in our movements, trying to kiss despite the attention needed to remove our clothes. mostly we just tangle up in each other until there's nothing left but my shorts for him to shove down my legs. he keeps his pants on.

"c'mon, beautiful." he mutters, pushing my legs open so that I'm sitting on the arm of the couch. he tilts my head and leans closer to suck on my bottom lip, and then starts to massage my tits. I can feel the handle of the weapon against my nipple.

when he reaches to slide his finger between my folds, I hiss out a breath at the cold sensation of his skin.

"is this because of me or the knife, baby?" he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up while I moan into his mouth. he starts to rub my clit with the collected wetness, teasing me too much. I want to fall back, but I can't. I won't let myself.

"both." I find myself turned on by the way the blade sits against my ribs again. the edge is just sharp enough to elicit a reaction from my body.

"feel that?" he angles the thing the slightest bit. I exhale and nod.

that isn't the response he's looking for, however, because he moves it so that it's under my chin. goosebumps on my skin while I pant uselessly against the weapon. I can feel it press harder with every breath out of my lungs, and I love it. I love the risk it brings out of me.

while Matthew dips his index inside my pussy, I writhe against it and tilt my head even more so he has better access.

"look at you," he lets out a dark chuckle, thrusts into me to the last digit. "you want more of this, don't you?"

"yes, sir." I breathe. my neck is actively moving against the metal. I glance down at his body and see his erection straining against his pants, craving release but finding none as he plunges his fingers in and out of me. I can hardly breathe from sheer focus on the sensations he's giving me right now.

"what are you looking at, sweetheart?" he quickens the pace of his movements and uses the object to make me focus on his face.

"you're hard." the words nearly die on my lips. he stares darkly at me, lifting his brows just enough to make me question whether I should have spoken at all. I bite my lip in anticipation.

"and what are you gonna do about it?" his voice is raspy as he stands back, removes his fingers from my pussy, and lets me drop to my knees. I'm weak both from the stimulation and from the loss of it, but I make quick work of undoing his belt, pulling the pants down his legs until I'm face-to-face with his cock. it sits against his stomach, throbbing impatiently while he watches. he uses the metallic point under my jaw to angle my face up to his.

"are you gonna suck me off, baby?" he smirks. I nod rigorously with wide eyes and an open mouth, dragging my tongue along the underside. Matthew's nose scrunches up for a moment at the shock of contact when I tease the head. all his concentration is on watching me wrap my hand around the shaft and pumping him gently. "spit on it."

I obey and spit right onto the tip before rubbing my thumb over the top to gather the precum. as I start to swirl my tongue and move my lips onto him, he throws his head back, lets out a wanton noise. it urges me on. I take every moment with a deliberate attention to the veins and sensitive spot he has.

"that's it, that's it." he rasps while knotting his hand in my hair. the other keeps the knife pressed to my throat. he lets me move on my own for a bit, gauging my desires from the way my eyes attempt to memorize the sight of his face above me, that jaw dropped in licentious craving. I can tell that he wants to fuck my face, but I go slow just to draw it out a little. it makes the soreness of my jaw worth it when he gets all impatient and flustered.

I hollow my cheeks and bob on his dick, bat my lashes, pull myself off him for a second just to kiss the tip.

"can I use your mouth?" he asks through a restrained groan. I open it and nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers twining through my hair again before he pushes back into the opening. now that he's got full control, he starts to develop his own movements, sometimes meeting his thrusts by pressing my face against him.

he gets deep in it, never losing his grip on the knife, until my nose is pressed to his stomach. my throat closes instinctively around him even more tightly, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"such a cute mouth when I'm using it." he thrusts until I gag and then he's smiling. "get up."

he removes himself so fast, my eyes water at the sudden lack of blockage in my throat. I gulp air while he hooks his hands under my arms and hoists me up. I'm about to turn around so I can lift my leg and give him better access, but he sits me on the arm of the couch and parts my thighs.

"I wanna see your pretty face." he leans down and pecks my cheek. I smile at the surprising tenderness-- although it doesn't last long. steel sits against the space between my neck and collarbone. it's only a moment before he positions himself between my legs and slides his cock into me.

my back arches and I look him in the eyes, gasping.

"fuck, baby." he drags out the first word as he inches inside. I mewl helplessly at the way he stretches me out, my pussy clenching every few seconds. he keeps one hand on my lower back to support me and bring me closer to his pelvis, and then we're staring into each other's eyes as he finally settles in it.

his hips start to thrust into me, hopeful for any kind of contact while I accustom myself to the shape of him. it happens every time, despite the amount of times we've done this. and I'm bad at patience, but he's worse. his body stutters against mine.

"is it good enough, sir?" I ask quietly. he tightens his grip on my back and on the blade, the edge threatening my skin the perfect amount. I suck in a breath at the way it stings a little.

"you're doing perfectly." he recognizes what I want to hear as he finds my sweet spot and begins to hit it repeatedly, smoothly works my body. I swear there are planets in my eyes when I stare at the expressions on his face, both of us so wrapped up in each other that every other thought becomes obsolete.

he moves the knife to under my chin to rest on my throat.

"feel that?"

I nod so the edge bites more. he smirks.

"just to show you who you belong to."

my hips push up to meet his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more friction. what I want is for him to be relentless, to slam into my body with the kind of hunger I know he has. there are sounds, movements, that he's made before that make me want him to use them. but he's withholding, probably hesitant about the dangerous object on my pulse point.

"I belong to you, sir." I egg him on. he likes the sound of that, grunting and starting to pound into me.

"yeah? you're my dirty little whore." he speaks through gritted teeth. I shiver.

"mhmm."

"I use you how I want, when I want." his fingertips dig into my skin and he yanks me closer so that he can hit a new angle. I let out a surprised noise when he brushes my g-spot. it's otherworldly and I expose more of my neck to him.

"my little slut likes pain, huh?" he nudges the weapon harder into my skin. it doesn't draw blood, but I can sense the mark it'll leave. I love it.

"yes, sir." we're both getting needy, but we can't hold each other the way that we want to in our given positions. my palms are occupied on the arm of the couch to hold myself up and one of his hands is too busy holding the object for us to fuck as deeply as we need.

"are you gonna take it like a good girl when I cum in it?" he mutters. he runs his tongue over my jawline and the weapon nicks my skin. I moan at the mingling of sensations that's building all across my body.

"yes, sir." I plead. it's nearly unbearable, how much I want him. we're chasing our orgasms and I know what will finish me off. he knows, too.

Matthew drops the knife. it clatters to the ground, but there's no time for me to register it with the way he grabs my hips and lifts me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist while he keeps fucking into me. he maneuvers us with shocking ease, laying me on the couch and positioning himself at the right moment so that I can drag my nails over his back and keep my thighs locked around him.

"mmm... baby, I'm gonna cum." he drives into me recklessly, both of us finally able to cling to each other. the angle is just enough to stimulate my clit and I nod, using the leverage of my legs to pull myself to him and roll my hips for friction.

Matthew slams my body into the couch, grunting in my ear as he finds his climax inside me. it's so deep, I have to work to keep the yell inside, but he's not done. he rides it out and plows into me while I reach the edge.

"tell me how it feels." he orders in my ear. I sigh.

"so-- so good, sir." my voice is thin. "I'm close."

"show me." he leaves bruises on my hips with his hands. I feel the knot finally snap, every muscle in my stomach spasming chaotically. I finish with a loud moan, begging him to drag it out further. my vision nearly goes black at the tide that threatens to overtake my body.

"Matthew--" I gasp. he moans quietly at the way I say his name, still rocking his body into mine while I come down from the shocks of orgasm. it's nearly overwhelming, the pleasure running through my body.

slowly, we come to a stillness and he drops his head into my shoulder, panting. he doesn't let go at first, but then he withdraws from my pussy and lets me take a rest. I lay there on the couch while he kneels between my legs, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

"I love you." he repeats it over and over.

"I love you, too," I hope he can feel the meaning, despite the sheer exhaustion in my tone. he runs his fingertips across the red marks where the thing went a little too deeply, but I'm not worried about it. "we should try that again, sometime."

"you liked it?" he smiles brightly. I love the lines by his eyes.

"definitely."

he lets out a cheerful noise and buries his face back into my throat because he knows how much it tickles. I screech and giggle, my legs kicking wildly around me. more contented than ever before.

[sankyeom]

splash! | l.jy

pairings: lee juyeon x reader genre: lifeguard!juyeon, summer love, strangers to lovers summary: in which you fall in love with the lifeguard at the hotel pool during your summer vacation and don’t want to have to say goodbye word count: 5.1k warnings: i said bullshit like once i think requested: nope, this is the result of me having a daydream about lifeguard juyeon and missing my home in santa cruz a lot bc i’m overseas right now note: i should have called this water after the boyz’ song, but i already made the banner say splash and i was too lazy to change it. also i was picturing ddd era juyeon for this fic so keep that in mind if you want 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

The salty air blowing in the breeze wasn’t a familiar scent, but you welcomed it as you draped yourself across the beach lounge chair by the hotel pool. You couldn’t have been more thankful for your best friend who surprised you with a beach-side vacation for the summer. Your third year of University had been difficult to say the least, and after your friend had seen you buried in books and notes, they decided enough was enough.

“Didn’t I say this was a good idea?” your best friend asked, shielding their face with a broad-brimmed sun hat. The two of you had opted to lounge by the pool for the day instead of hitting the beach, mostly because your friend wasn’t particularly fond of the ocean.

“Yes,” you hummed in agreement. “Didn’t I already acknowledge that you’re a genius?” you retorted, turning on your side to face your best friend. They made a vaguely dismissive motion with their hand, eliciting a laugh from you as you decided what book to read while you soaked up some sun.

A shout interrupted your thoughts. “Hey!” the call came from the lifeguard up on the tall wooden chair that designated his position. Your eyes followed the sound, intrigued by the sudden call. The man in question was tall, slender, and broad-shouldered, with light brown hair and honey blond highlights. He was speaking into a megaphone and seemed to be targeting a group of teenage boys. “They’re not interested. Stop bothering them and go along with your day,” you noticed the group of boys in question seemed to be lingering near some teenage girls. They scowled at the lifeguard, faces clearly displaying their embarrassment at being called out. It seemed as though they wanted to reply, perhaps say something snooty about them being guests there, but the lifeguard wouldn’t have it. “Don’t make me go down there. I will go down there,” he warned.

You cracked a smile as the group of boys mumbled to one another before stalking off with glares on their faces. “Well that was nice of him,” your friend had peeked out from under their sunhat long enough to witness the encounter. “He’s pretty cute,” they observed.

Pretty cute was an understatement.

As far as bodies went, his was clearly well maintained and rather impressive, but his face was what had caught your attention initially. He had clear, sharp eyes and a small, slender nose. His dyed hair made him appear to almost glow in the summer sun, skin tanned from being outside all day long. When you glanced down to observe his face, you realised you had been glancing at the stranger’s lips for far longer than socially acceptable and decided to just look away.

“I saw that,” your friend pointed out. “You think he’s more than just pretty cute, huh?” they teased you, wiggling their eyebrows as best as they could to further taunt you.

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” you lied, risking another look back at the lifeguard.

You hadn’t realised it, but the fairly close proximity to the lifeguard’s chair gave Juyeon both a clear view of you and your friend as well as the ability to hear your chatter. Having noticed you earlier as well, Juyeon could feel his ears burning with embarrassment as the two of you locked eyes. When you and your friend arrived, you had caught his attention because the two of you looked like you were very close and having a lot of fun. His summer job thus far had been anything but fun, and the way you looked when you laughed was simply radiant.

Noticing the tension in the area, your friend beamed. “Do you need me to work my magic?” they wondered, taking their hat off and giving you their full attention.

“You don’t have any magic,” you hissed back, breaking eye contact with the cute lifeguard to hush your friend. “And don’t be so loud, he’s not that far away,” you added in a whisper.

“Oh honey,” your friend sighed. “You need all the help you can get. Leave this to me,” they winked, taking off their cover up as you began to protest.

“No, stop that,” you whisper-yelled. “What are you doing, why are you-“ you cut yourself off as your friend not-so-elegantly dove into the pool. You exhaled loudly, looking up at the sky and hoping to any god that existed that your friend wasn’t going to embarrass you.

When your friend started swimming and going nowhere near the lifeguard, you decided you could calm down and not worry about their actions anymore. That was until your friend started shouting and flailing about in the pool, calling out for the lifeguard to help them as they struggled in the water. You furrowed your brows together. They were a perfect swimmer, there was no way they could really be drowning in a pool shallow enough for them to stand.

Without waiting, the lifeguard gracefully dove into the pool and paddled towards your best friend. “I’ve got you, you’re okay,” he told your friend, pulling them towards the edge of the pool. Still, your friend made a big show out of panicking and clinging onto him as he lifted them out of the water.

“Please,” you friend said between exaggerated coughs. “Get my friend,” they pleaded.

You groaned. This had been their plan all along.

With quick steps, you made your way towards the pair. “Are you okay?” you asked your friend, narrowing your eyes at them in warning. Translation: you’re so dead when we’re alone.

Their eyes widened as they nodded. “I had a leg cramp,” they explained innocently, stretching out their right leg and wincing. “Oh look, all better!” with that they jumped up happily and walked back to your lounge chairs.

Your jaw dropped in surprise at their actions as they left you and the lifeguard to kneel on the floor alone. His eyes drifted back to meet yours and he coughed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with flushed cheeks. The way your eyes peered curiously at him made him want to squeal like an excited child, but Juyeon managed to restrain himself. “Um, I hope they’re okay,” he said awkwardly instead.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” you assured him, feeling your face warm up. “Um, I’m really sorry about them,” you tried to apologise for your friend’s obvious, and terrible, acting.

The handsome lifeguard blinked innocently at you. “Oh, it’s fine. Leg cramps are really common and I wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt under my watch,” then he smiled in a way that made your insides melt, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

He was the definition of breathtaking, and he seemed innocent and sweet enough to believe that your friend had really been in peril, which made him all the more cute. “I’m Juyeon,” he introduced himself, going to hold out his hand for you to shake before realising it was wet, and lowering it.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied, a laugh naturally escaping you without even trying. He was too sweet.

By the time you made your way back to your friend, they were already grinning at you with a knowing look on their face. “And you said I don’t have any magic,” they scoffed. “I wrote the book on magic, okay?”

“That was embarrassing as hell,” you said instead of agreeing with them. “Never do that again.”

Your friend ignored you. “What’s his name?” they asked.

You paused, getting comfortable on the lounge chair before facing them. “Juyeon,” you answered, and that was just as good as admitting their absurd plan had worked for your friend.

The bonfire was almost twice your own height by the time you arrived at the beach. Your friend had caught wind of the midnight bonfire from one of the waiters at the breakfast bar that morning, and had begged you to go almost all day long. After not seeing Juyeon at the pool all day, you were in the mood to get out of your head and eventually agreed to go.

You felt stupid looking for the lifeguard after only meeting him once, but there was something about him that made you want to get to know him better. Good looks aside, he was sweet and innocent and he had made your vacation a little more interesting by being your summer crush.

The night was slightly chilly, making you relieved that you had thought ahead and worn a cardigan so that you wouldn’t be cold. “Let’s get closer,” your friend suggested before dragging you to stand right by the fire pit. “Oh! It’s you,” their cheeky tone warned you of the fact that they had bumped into Juyeon before you even saw him. He looked comfortable in a short sleeve button up and jeans, and the fire illuminated his honey skin to make him appear as though he was truly glowing. “You saved my life,” your friend told him.

He laughed a low chuckle. “Ah, it’s just my job,” he waved it off with a small shrug. Then, his eyes met yours. “It’s good to see you again, Y/n,” Juyeon greeted.

The fact that he remembered your name shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it definitely felt like a sign to you. You smiled. “You too,” you assured him. “What brings you here?”

“My friends Kevin and Jacob organised the bonfire,” Juyeon explained, pointing them out nearby. “I figured I might as well do something other than work all summer long,” he added with a bashful smile.

“Great idea,” your friend chimed. “I’m going to get some drinks, Y/n?” they offered but you waved them off, uninterested. Music started playing softly through a bluetooth speaker, and for a moment you were nervous that Juyeon would ask you to dance. You weren’t so confident in your ability to remember to breathe around him, nonetheless actually dance in an appealing way.

Almost as if he sensed your nerves, Juyeon held out his hand to you. “Want to see something cool?” he offered, titling his head slightly at you. Shrugging, you took his hand and let him lead you away from the bonfire and to a darker part of the beach.

“This is super suspicious, just so you know,” you informed him in a teasing tone. You weren’t actually nervous to be alone with Juyeon, there was something soothing about his presence that made you feel at ease.

Juyeon laughed. “Don’t you trust me?” he teased you right back.

“Well,” you hummed. “All I know about you is that you’re a lifeguard, your name is Juyeon, and that your friends are all back at the bonfire along with mine.”

“All the more reason to follow me,” he grinned, coming to a stop further down the beach. “Now,” Juyeon said, gently taking you by the shoulders to stand in front of him. “Look at this,” he pointed up, and you followed his finger until you saw a small cluster of golden lights leisurely twirling through the air.

Realisation struck you and you gasped audibly. “Oh my god,” you exclaimed. “Are those fireflies?”

Said fireflies were floating about the sky, some above you and some lower at the water, exploring their surroundings. “You ever seen those before?” you shook your head at Juyeon’s question. “They usually like to be in marshy, forest areas. But the other night I saw them close to here, exploring the shore.”

“This is incredible,” you admitted, eyes following the small glowing insects as they soar. “What makes them glow?” you asked, feeling Juyeon’s chest against your back as he inched closer.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s the same reason you and I are here right now,” you turn your head to look at Juyeon, curious. He was already smiling, as if he knew something that you didn’t. “Chemistry,” he whispered, making you laugh.

“That was cheesy.”

“Maybe so, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

You nod. “I suppose so,” you manage to agree.

Juyeon smiles. “Do you think I could kiss you?”

“I definitely think you should.”

When he kissed you, your eyes closed and you saw little dots of gold on the inside of your eyelids, perfectly mimicking the glow of the fireflies surrounding the both of you.

After your kiss with Juyeon, he seemed to be appearing everywhere you looked. At the pool when he was on duty, at the bar you and your friend were snacking at during his breaks, the beach during the sunset, and the dining hall for dinner. Your friend was pleased that you were finding something – or rather, someone – to entertain and soothe you after the difficult year you had at University.

Before you exited the pool for the day, Juyeon leaned down to whisper in your ear: “Meet me at the gate at midnight,” without any further explanation. Excited to spend more time with him, you easily nodded in agreement and left to tell your friend about your evening plans.

When the time came, you made your way down to the pool’s gate to meet Juyeon, finding it locked since the pool closed before sundown. As Juyeon approached you in a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt, waving a key in the air with an excited glint in his eyes, you quickly figured out what his plans for your night were. “Are you up for a midnight swim?” Juyeon wondered, greeting you with a hug. The small act of affection made an unavoidable and automatic smile appear on your lips.

“I’m up for anything,” you replied, winding your arms around his waist and leaning back enough to smile at Juyeon. “As long as you don’t get into trouble for it?” you added, eyeing the thick metal lock on the pool gates.

“I won’t get in trouble if we don’t get caught,” he retorted with a small wink, lifting his hand to gently stroke your cheek with his thumb. This was something you liked a lot about being with Juyeon: everything always felt easy and relaxed. “I’ve never gone for a midnight dip before, and I figure a lit-up pool is safer than the ocean.”

“Ah yes,” you laughed. “Safety first. How could I forget that I’m amidst Lee Juyeon, lifeguard extraordinaire.”

Juyeon burst out laughing at your words, eyes crinkling with his widened grin. He gave a shy smile when he was done, opening the gate to the pool for you and allowing you to enter first. Slightly excited at the idea of sneaking around with Juyeon, you made your way towards the pool, closely followed by Juyeon.

As you and Juyeon started undressing down to your bathing suits, you eyed the empty lifeguard chair that he usually occupied. “You’re pretty distracting up there on your little chair, you know?” you admitted, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Me?” Juyeon exclaimed, pausing while attempting to take off his t-shirt. “I’m the one that has to work and pretend that I’m not sneaking glances at you every minute because you’re so captivating,” he argued, shaking his head in disbelief.

You snuck a quick look at his torso, half exposed from where he was paused. “You’re clueless,” you accused with a sigh, not understanding how Juyeon couldn’t understand how attractive he was. “Now hurry up, I want to swim,” you added with a slight whine.

At your encouragement, the two of you had soon made your way into the lukewarm water of the pool, gently splashing each other in a playful manner. Rather than swimming laps or diving in the water, you and Juyeon decided to stand in the water next to each other and see how the water trickled from your hands to his, underneath yours.

Although the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, you still wished to know more about the boy in front of you. “What’s your biggest fear?” you wondered, watching how little droplets of water sliding down the side of your palm fell into Juyeon’s larger palm.

Each time your fingertips brushed against his palm, tingles shot from the very tips of your fingers down to your toes. Warmth spread throughout your body. You always felt warm when you were with Juyeon.

Juyeon made a quiet sound akin to a chuckle, but thought about his answer. “Heartbreak,” he told you. You paused playing with the water to observe his expression. Usually, his eyes smiled whenever you looked at him. Now, his eyes seemed to be lost in something else.

“Funny,” you said. “That’s mine, too.”

The realisation that whatever the two of you were doing – be it dating casually or just having an exciting summer fling – might end in both of your biggest fear put a temporary stop to the careless relaxation you had been experiencing up until that point.

“I guess we just won’t break each other’s hearts,” Juyeon said it so simply that you believed him. 

Believed that you could have nothing but a small, summer fling with Juyeon. That maybe you wouldn’t fall for the kind-eyed man in front of you, and that your summer wouldn’t end in heartbreak.

So you smiled back at him and agreed.

Silently, you and Juyeon agreed to keep things fun and casual that summer. You had in depth conversations about your hopes and dreams for your futures; the lives you intended to live after your education was over. However, you never told one another things about your everyday lives that could make you get attached to one another. You didn’t speak about where you lived, your daily schedule, or what you looked for in a partner.

Lying beside Juyeon, your thighs brushing his and hands intertwined on his chest, felt comfortable; familiar. The night was still fairly warm out despite it being well past midnight, and the two of you had decided to lie down by the beach and admire the night sky.

The stars were so bright that evening, glowing and shimmering as if they had come out just so you could admire them. The glow they released felt like little fireflies hung up in the sky, as though you could reach out and touch them.

“I don’t know,” you answered Juyeon’s question about what you wanted to do as a career. Your tone caused Juyeon to turn his head to face you. His hair was still damp, and it fell flat against his forehead in a short fringe. You angled your body to face his, raising your hand to run your fingers through his hair. The intimate action didn’t seem to bother Juyeon, and you tried to ignore the way it made your stomach swirl. “I’m always scared to think about it. I just finished my third year of Uni, and I still have no idea what I want to do.”

“You have all the options in the world open to you,” Juyeon rephrased your troubles lightly. “All you have to do is reach out and take them.” he paused, closing his eyes to relish in the feeling of your hands in his hair. “I know what I want to do.”

“Yeah?” you asked, tightening Juyeon’s zip-up hoodie around your frame as the breeze blew stronger; the sound of waves crashing against the shore music to your ears. “What’s that?”

“I want to be a dancer,” Juyeon said. “I want to perform for others and tell a story. I want to sweat and bleed and hurt for it. Because I want to be perfect,” he chuckled. “I guess that’s my fatal flaw. Perfectionism.”

“Perfectionism is hardly fatal,” you disagreed. “Then go out there. Hurt and bleed and do it.”

“I wish it were that easy,” Juyeon muttered, pulling you gently against him. The moderate rhythm of his heart beat tenderly against your ear. “I just don’t know how to tell my parents. They still think I’m majoring in Economics. Guess I have one more year to tell them,” somehow, his statement managed to make the both of you laugh.

You mentally noted that you were in the same year of University, something personal that the both of you had agreed not to talk about. It would be foolish to get your hopes up about Juyeon wanting something serious with you; you forced yourself to let go of the idea altogether.

After all, you were scared of heartbreak too.

“Why is it so easy to talk to you?” Juyeon marvelled. “When I’m with my friends, I always feel like I never have a clue about anything. They’re always faster, wittier, and smarter than me. But with you, I feel like I can take my time.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you pondered on how to respond. Not only had Juyeon captured exactly how you felt around him, but he had made a statement so personal that you couldn’t ignore it.

“You can take your time,” you decided to say. “We have all summer long.”

As the summer was coming to an end, you were already dreading having to say goodbye to Juyeon. He introduced you to his friends throughout the summer, too. Jacob and Kevin from the bonfire, and Hyunjae the bartender from the hotel bar. You understood what Juyeon meant about feeling slow; his friends were balls of energy and quick-wit. You had spent every night with him, walking the beach, exploring the island, and forgetting any of your troubles. The next day, you would always bring your friend to the places you had adventured through the night before; recounting your escapades with Juyeon and admiring how different things looked in the light.

“You really like this guy,” your friend realised immediately. “And not just in a hot lifeguard way.”

You smiled sadly. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I don’t want to say goodbye to him.” The view of the beach during the day with the sun shining wasn’t the same as the way the beach appeared at night. You almost wanted it to be dark every time you went to the ocean.

Your friend smiled. “Maybe you don’t have to? Long distance relationships can work out, too.”

“He doesn’t want to be in a relationship,” you denied.

With a small shake of their head, your friend asked “How do you know that?”

“Because he’s afraid of heartbreak,” you looked out into the sea, observing the families and couples playing in the water together and laughing.

“I’ve heard that before,” your friend recalled all the times you used that as an excuse during the semester. “You know, I love heartbreak.” With wide eyes, you faced your friend to listen to their reasoning. “If I get heartbroken, at least it means I felt something.”

“Well, yes,” you allowed. “But why would you want to put yourself and your feelings out in the world, only to have them broken and exploited?”

“Who cares?” your friend said. “Who cares if my feelings get broken and exploited? How am I ever going to feel anything – love, happiness, admiration – if I’m so scared of being hurt that I never let myself feel it to begin with?”

You knew your friend was right. The more you got to know Juyeon, the more you knew that no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to prevent yourself from feeling an emotion you truly felt.

“I know that,” you confessed in a mumble. “That doesn’t mean that he feels the same.”

“Maybe you should try asking him?” your friend proposed. “Maybe he’ll surprise you. And maybe you should do it today, before we have to leave this afternoon,” they added, patting you gently on the shoulder and giving you their best encouraging smile.

You had already told Juyeon that you were leaving that day. He had mentioned that he had a shift at the pool in the early afternoon, but he promised that he would get away and say his goodbyes to you.

Perhaps you were holding on to his promise a little too tightly. That was why you felt so destroyed when Juyeon never showed, and you had to get the taxi on the way to the airport so you wouldn’t miss your flight.

“Are you okay?” your friend asked, sympathetic to your feelings.

“I’m okay,” you said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so scared of being heartbroken. It seems like I have no control over that, anyway.”

When autumn came, you welcomed the cold.

The cold meant that you no longer had to think about Juyeon. Autumn in Seoul meant the leaves falling in magnificent shades of burnt orange and yellow, and it also meant going back to University for your final year of your degree. When school started again, you were thankful for the distraction. The more specialised and specific your classes became, the better idea you got of what you wanted to do with your degree in the future.

Coming out of a counselling session with your career counsellor, you felt confident with the options the two of you had come up with for careers to look in to. “I’ll be at the café soon,” you told your friend over the phone, almost rolling your eyes at their excitement over it being Friday. “Yes I promise. No more than ten minutes. Yes, I swear.”

As you hung up the phone, you hardly noticed someone in a black coat walking by you. “I’m so sorry!” the man exclaimed, picking up your dropped phone and handing it over to you. “I hope nothing happened to it,” he said.

You examined your phone, discovering that the screen wasn’t cracked and seemed to be functioning just find. “Don’t even worry about it,” you assured the man, glancing up at his bespectacled face. You paused. “I’m sorry, are you Jacob?” you asked him, vaguely recognising his face.

The man chuckled. “Kevin, actually,” he corrected. “It’s Y/n, right?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m not so great with names. Not that I was really trying to remember this summer, anyway,” you added awkwardly.

Kevin hummed. “Do you go to school here?”

“I do,” you nodded.

“Me too,” Kevin smiled.

Your eyes widened. “You go to school with Juyeon, though,” you recalled. “That means…”

“He goes here too,” Kevin finished for you. He studied your expression. “You should really talk to him. I think that a few things got mixed up between you guys and I’d hate for you to keep thinking poorly of my friend.”

Talking to Juyeon again just when you were getting over thinking of him didn’t seem like the wisest idea to you. And yet, “Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll meet him.”

It seemed almost too ironic that Juyeon was waiting for Kevin in the same café your friend was waiting in. When you saw the two sitting together, you realised why your friend was so desperate to get you to the café quickly. Sneaky.

“Hey,” you greeted Juyeon, taking a seat opposite him as your friend and Kevin gave you some privacy.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t meet you,” Juyeon apologised. “I know this sounds ridiculous but I got fired for breaking into the pool at night.”

You hadn’t been expecting that. “What?”

“The manager saw that someone had been breaking into the pool after hours. It seemed that he hadn’t gotten the keys on the nights where I locked up, so he pretty quickly figured out who it was,” Juyeon was sheepish to admit. “They escorted me out of the hotel so I couldn’t stay to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you call?” you wondered.

Juyeon smirked. “It’s not like we exchanged numbers,” he argued.

“That stupid not falling in love and not getting heartbroken bullshit,” you sighed.

Juyeon rose an eyebrow. “You think it’s bullshit too?” he asked. “Glad to hear it. I was getting pretty sick of it by the end of the summer too.”

“Tell me about it,” you grinned. “So, we go to the same University,” you stated the obvious.

“Looks like it,” Juyeon grinned back at you. “I don’t know. It almost seems like it’s fate or something.”

You snorted. “Fate? Three months ago you refused to fall in love, and now you believe in fate?”

“People change,” Juyeon defended himself. “Especially when they meet someone worth changing for.”

You rose an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh really?”

Juyeon leaned forward. “Go on a date with me,” he requested. You merely smiled disbelievingly at him. “Seriously,” Juyeon insisted, eyes slightly narrowed with focus. “I’ve had three months to get to know you and I’ve been missing you for two more. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies. You didn’t have to think about your answer for even one second. You were already head over heels for him. “And if we get heartbroken?” you asked quietly.

Juyeon cocked his head to the side, his familiar eye-smile appearing as he realised you felt the same as him. “Then at least I know that I loved you.”

note: this took me so long to write i’ve been working on it for a whole month. i hope you enjoyed it!!

updated note: guys i wrote this fic a year before thrill ride came out i basically predicted the future lmaooo

[thesmpisonfire]

C!Ranboo and his hypocrisy

- This is just about his character, cc!Ranboo is an angel and doing a great job building this stupid half-enderman boy <3 -

- p.s.: This has some stings towards c!Phil and c!Techno but not enough to be tagged as critical, so be warned -

So, we need to talk about Ranboo and his stance on sides.

Is he right about the need to abolish sides? Yes, he is so fucking right

Does he know the right way to explain it to the other people? No

Does he, Ranboo himself, have the moral backbone to follow his own philosophy? No. In so many ways, no. 

The problem is: Ranboo can’t do it. He says he has no sides but he is clearly taking one. He doesn’t forgive Niki and Fundy, but then he goes and makes mental stunts in order to explain Philza and Techno’s behavior about a topic neither of those 3 have the rights to speak about.

The only ones that had the right to decide the fate of L’manberg were Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy, Niki, Jack Manifold, and, to a certain extent, Eret and Quackity. They fought for it, they lived there. Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy were there since the beginning, Niki and Jack lived there since it got its independence, Eret miss the old times and want to redeem themself, Quackity saw L’manburg at a terrible time but still understood its value and fought for his newfound home. Techno ignored the sentimental value and only saw it as a corrupted government, Philza (I am using what he said at Doomsday, so don’t come after me saying I’m wrong) only saw L’manberg as the place that took his son’s life (a so fucking wrong take but this is not the topic)...

Then, we have Ranboo.

Ranboo was  received by the L’manberg people with open arms, he befriended almost everyone there immediately, he saw that place as home. If needed, he would have fought in L’manberg side during that time.

Yes, I said side, bc it was there where his friends were.

Tommy then got exiled, and Ranboo started to share his time between L’manberg and Logstedshire. It wasn’t a problem at first, because everyone wanted to bring Tommy back, but it got worse after Techno’s Execution. Tommy went to live with Techno, the Enemy, and, since Ranboo was Tommy’s friend and Techno also was Tommy’s friend, Ranboo helped them.

This is where things got shaky. This is where he started to panic. THIS was the moment he started to say “people over sides”, because he had betrayed L’manberg. He didn’t need to panic about this before he became a ‘traitor’, but he was worried now, he knew the mess he made at the moment his diary was gone. He starts to blackout more often after this day too, after the day they threatened Dream.

Ranboo said “Friends before sides” that day, but he didn’t stick to this until the end.

Techno and Phil were his friends, but mostly because of Tommy and because one favor Phil did to him. Niki, Fundy, Tubbo…. They all were high up and, by his morals, THEY should be first. Ranboo should have looked OVER sides and only at his friends. But Ranboo did exactly what he said it was wrong, he only saw sides.

When Tommy was accused, after the Community House explosion and after Tommy’s speech, it was supposed to Ranboo, the guy who covered Tommy until the end, would stand and defend Tommy, because it was his FRIEND, but no. Ranboo argued about people preparing for a war that was certain to happen. He goes and says that taking sides is wrong and Tommy and Tubbo shouldn’t be making a side for war, meanwhile Tubbo saw over Ranboo’s treason, he only looked at his friendship, and defended him from Quackity. Tubbo saw Ranboo as a friend, Ranboo saw Tubbo as a side.

His speech makes something break inside Niki and Fundy, and they take it at heart. No sides, only people. No L’manberg, only the people that took care of you. Niki and Fundy team up briefly, Eret joining them for a while. The three that were always together beyond treasons and countries. No sides, only friends. Quackity was about to leave before reading Ranboo’s diary and seeing what really mattered was the feeling that L’manberg and its people made Quackty had. He goes back to help Tommy and Tubbo, his friends. People over sides.

Right before Doomsday, Niki goes to Ranboo and talks to him. She says she will do whatever Ranboo does, because she trusts him. She puts Ranboo over L’manberg. Ranboo says she would fight for L’manberg, because that was what Ranboo said he would do but, when it happened, Ranboo did nothing, so she also stayed and watched. Niki burns L’mantree because she has the right to. She burnt down the last piece of her land and she mourns it. She doesn’t let it blow up by Dream, she does it just like a funeral, because she knows L’manburg was gone, and the girl that loved it the most was the one with the right to burn it. Ranboo would never understand this because he never saw L’manberg at its peak and never had the time to see it peak again. Ranboo doesn’t know how it was to Niki, how it was to be hopeful and full of love, to feel pride and then see it all crash and burn, to see the place you called home die, to mourn over and over. She is trying to heal but she doesn’t know to. She burns the tree and explodes her bakery trying to cut the ties because she doesn’t want it to hurt anymore, not because she is taking a side.

Fundy and Ranboo are certainly a topic we all talked over and over, and we all know that Fundy is spiraling and needing help. He chooses Ranboo over sides again and again, but Ranboo only sees it as him trying to make another side. Fundy just doesn’t wanna feel alone anymore. He lost it and snapped due to it, and Ranboo knows it. Ranboo said it himself that Fundy is passing through something but he is scared of what Fundy has become after being so hurt, and still he does nothing. Ranboo has the right to be scared, but, as someone who said people were the most important thing, he isn’t seeing them as people anymore.

Phil and Techno destroyed everything, and after it they were kind to Ranboo. Ranboo, who said hours prior that the most important thing was his friends, left them all behind for a thing he saw as not a side because Techno and Phil were loyal only to each other. He saw it as them doesn’t making a side and staying out of it. But Techno and Phil always were a side, and Ranboo chose them. Because of this, he excuses everything they did, Ranboo doesn’t want to see himself as the wrong one. Ranboo even changes his morals and stances, before Doomsday he said L’manberg deserved to be fought for, after being housed by Techno and Phil he says L’manberg was destroyed for good. That’s why Dream’s voice talks to him and points out his mistakes, the voice is trying to point out what is wrong, and he says it: “You betrayed everyone”, “You exploded the house”, “You helped Dream”. Ranboo said he doesn’t want to remember bad things he did or that happened, but everything is coming back to him. His ‘other state’ is not neutral. He has a side. Normal Ranboo choose Techno and Phil, Other Ranboo choose Dream (as far as we know) and, coincidentally, Techno, Phill and Dream have some kind of alliance. Ranboo was biased from the beginning. 

Seeing only from Ranboo’s pov makes it look like everyone chooses a side but Phil and Techno, seeing from outside we notice this is not true.

There’s no reliable narrators in the Dream SMP

[reidgraygubler]

bowling shoes (franklin/reader)

Title: Bowling Shoes

Request:  yes! It was requested by the wonderful @sunlight-moonrise​​

Couple: franklin (mgg’s role in beginner’s luck)/fem!reader

Category: smut

Content Warning:  SEXUAL CONTENT (degradation, praise kink, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, little bit of cockwarming ;), spanking, heavy petting, slight humiliation (i think), spitting, hair pulling, groping, creampie/unprotected sex, fingering, penetrative sex), dom!franklin, kissing/making-out, swearing, implied age gap (but they never specify Franklin’s age. So idk) (if i missed anything that needs to be tagged, PLEASE let me know!!)

Word Count: 4,224

Summary:  Reader is new in town and works at her grandfather’s bowling alley, where some people spend late nights practicing for the town-wide bowling competition.

A/N: The third day of my seven days of seven fics! This particular one shot has been sitting in my wip list since September 2020. And I just finally decided to write it. This was written with matthew gray gubler’s character from the short film Beginner’s Luck. If you haven’t seen it yet I highly recommend watching it bc it’s amazing and I love Franklin. I hope you’re all enjoying the 7 days 7 fics! I really cranked it out on all of these oneshots! Here is the masterlist for that! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support!  

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Little Falls… I never understood this town's love for bowling… and I probably never will… It’s probably a good thing that I moved from Little Falls before I got old enough to actually learn how to bowl, mostly because if I did, and I didn’t bowl, I’d probably be chased out of town with a crowd of pitchforks and torches.

So, it’s probably an even better thing that I just work at the town’s precious bowling alley. But, to be fair… This alley has been in the family since it opened. 

Long story short, I hate bowling. I just needed extra cash, and my grandfather just so happens to pay me extra. Not because I’m fami-No that’s exactly why...

“You are busting my balls here!” A man shouted from the lanes. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked in that direction, looking for the owner of the shouts. I gently placed the pair of shoes down on the counter before walking around to the lanes. “You can’t be serious!” A guy wearing a yellow bowling shirt was shouting down the lane he was standing on. 

“Is… Is everything okay?” I leaned against the half-wall beside me. I propped my arms on top of the wall as I looked at him. I looked across the tables behind the lanes and noted there was only one other person, who was watching the man with such intent I was sure they’d kill him. “It’s just you playing,” I half-laughed at the guy. He spun around on his toes and pointed a finger at me. I tried to not take it as accusatory, but everything in my body was telling me he meant it as such.

“I would have gotten that pin down if it wasn’t for you,” he half-shouted at me. I lifted my hands as some form of surrender as I stepped down to the lanes. The guy in the yellow bowling shirt looked at me and cocked his head. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just came down here to see if everything was alright… And if it was, I was just going back to work… Cleaning smelly rental, bowling shoes,” I gestured back towards the counter where a pile of rental shoes was sitting, waiting to be cleaned. “I just heard all the shouting down here and wanted to make sure someone wasn’t fighting with the balls,” I shrugged as I looked up at him. My joke about the balls was only mildly humorous if you knew that there were only 3 people in total in the alley. Myself, the angry stranger, and his unusual friend.

Glasses that kinda reminded me a little of Jeffery Dahmer sat on the tip of his nose, and just under his nose was a porn-stache. And the way he styled his hair just looked like a mop sitting on his head. But there was something, I don't know, attractive (I guess it was attractive) about this man. A certain handsomeness that I couldn’t exactly describe. 

“No, no, no one was fighting with the balls,” he spoke as he stepped closer to me. He looked down at me with a smile before resting both his hands on my shoulder. I sighed deeply as I stared up at him. “Now, go, run along… You said you have rental shoes to clean,” he smiled as he turned me around to face the 3 steps behind us. 

“Hold on,” I stepped away from him and turned back to face him. I had to crane my neck up to meet his stare, him being nearly a foot taller than me. “I can easily kick you out of here,” I scoffed as I looked at his shirt, finally noticing the patch sewn into the pocket of his shirt. The name Franklin was stitched into the patch with black thread in a fancy script. “Franklin,” I looked up at him and smiled. The cocky and smug expression on his face faltered for a moment as he looked at me. 

“Oh, aren’t you’re so cute,” he brought his hands to rest on my cheeks before squeezing them together, pushing my lips out. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?” he asked as he cocked his head to look down at me. I couldn’t exactly answer with my words, so I just nodded lightly. My eyes never left his face, and his never left mine.

“There’s just one thing you’re missing then. I own this place. This bowling alley... Is mine,” he kept his voice low as he spoke and the smugness returning, “Do you understand, Sunshine,” he asked, the condescension in his tone really coming out with the pet name he used. I tried to laugh and shake my head before I pulled away from his grasp. I stumbled back, nearly falling over the steps behind me.

“Since when are you my grandpa?” I asked, cocking my head to my shoulder. I could feel a teasing smile grow on my lips as I looked at him. His face shifted from being very smug to being shocked. “Yeah, bet you didn’t see that one coming… Did ya, Franklin,” I smiled at him. 

Franklin stepped back away from me but kept his stare on my face. “You’re not Hank’s grandkid. I would know when his grandkid would be here,” he pointed at me as he backed away from me. I snickered and shrugged.

“Well, you’d be wrong,” I smiled as I folded my arms over my chest. Franklin looked over his shoulder at his companion, seeking some sort of backup. But it was clear that she had no intentions in answering, she was far too busy just admiring him. How did he not see this as uncomfortable and wrong? 

“Aw, now you’re intimidated by the bowling alley girl? I don’t even bowl,” I scoffed before pulling my eyes off him, “I just work here,” I laughed. Franklin looked genuinely offended by my statement. Again, I don’t understand this town’s love for bowling.

“I’m sorry… What did you just say?” he looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows. Oh, I really did offend him… Do I feel sorry? Not really...

“Oh, yeah, you heard that right. It’s stupid. And, frankly, Franklin, I don’t understand how a town so quaint is so obsessed with throwing a ball at some plastic things,” I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. He stepped closer to me, and for the briefest of moments, I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. And suddenly a tension was in the air between us. It was suffocating. “Did I make you mad? Did I piss poor Fwankwin off,” I furrowed my eyebrows and pouted, "Did I huwt your feewings," my head falling back as I broke into a fit of laughter.

“Be quiet,” Franklin scoffed as he stared at me. I felt my smile become a little smug as I looked up at him. 

“Oh? Really? Why don’t you make me?” I shrugged and stepped closer to him. We were so close, breathing each other’s air. One step from either of us and our chests would be pressed together. Our toes, however, were touching. His rented bowling shoes barely standing on my canvas shoes. 

That was when the air tensed even more. But, the level of tension shifted from an awkwardness… to a certain awkward-sexual tension. I personally loved it because he’s a dick. Men like him need to be messed with. Plus, I’m bored...

“Is that what you want me to do?” his voice was lower than before. My smile fell away and I swallowed roughly. I could feel my heart in my throat, cutting off any words I wanted to say. “Oh, I see how it is. All that snark and attitude is fake. Because the second someone… An older man, maybe, says something… It goes away,” he smirked as he slowly brought a hand to my face. I went to move my face away from his touch, but failed when he forced me to look at him.  

“You’re a brat,” he whispered as he kept his eyes on me. A shiver went down my spine and I had to press my legs together, slightly shifting my feet. I stared at him with wide eyes, feeling my breathing pick up slightly. 

And the moment was ruined before I even got the chance to say something. It seemed as if we both had forgotten something. Rather, someone. 

“We should get going, Franklin,” a voice asked from behind him. 

“Fuck,” he muttered as he closed his eyes and pulled his hand from my face. It was obvious we both forgot that someone else was here. We were both so involved with each other that we just forgot about his companion. After a brief moment of awkward silence, he opened his eyes and looked at me, sighing deeply before speaking.

"I'm gonna be here late. You should just go home," Franklin spoke to his companion but kept his eyes strictly on me. His friend looked up at him like he was some sort of celebrity. I wasn’t exactly sure why she was staring at him like that. He wasn’t a god or anything. Unless he was, then I’d be screwed.

"It's okay. I can wait,” she smiled as she longingly looked at him. I looked back at Franklin before nodding to his friend. I’m starting to think she wasn’t even a friend of his… just a creepy and overly-devoted fan. I don’t think Franklin even noticed her obsession. “I’ll always wait for you, Franklin,” she murmured. I shifted on my foot before I stepped back.

“Bomber,” he spoke, turning to look at her. He looked down at her, his eyes telling her to leave. I only know that because Bomber (I suppose that’s her name) gathered her things and quickly left the alley. “Sorry, now where were we, Sunshine?” 

“Your friend seems nice,” I muttered, looking away from him for a brief moment. Franklin scoffed out a laugh before shaking his head.

 “She’s not a friend, just a teammate,” his voice was low as he brought a hand back to my face. Part of me was expecting him to be gentle, and I’m not really sure why I thought that. So when he jerked my head back up to look at him, I was left in shock. “But, that wasn’t where we left off. Bomber’s gone now,” he dropped his head down and looked at me through his eyelashes. 

“Which means we’re alone now,” I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He smiled and nodded lightly before bringing my face closer to his.

“Now you’re getting it,” he returned the whisper before harshly pressing his lips to mine. I couldn’t help but moan as he pulled me closer to his body. It was so hard to keep my focus on the world around us. My knees carefully buckled beneath me. If it weren’t for Franklin, I probably would have fallen to the ground. He stood his ground firm, like he was a brick wall in the wind, keeping me upright as I almost fell to the ground. 

He moved his face away from mine, but we were still close enough to feel each other’s breath. Franklin moved his free hand to my hip before carefully pushing it past the waistband of my pants. My body shifted slightly, trying to get more of his touch against me.

“The… The door,” I whispered, my eyes going to the door. Although, I truthfully didn’t care too much about the door and it being unlocked. The bowling alley closes in 5 minutes anyways.

“Who cares about the fucking door,” he muttered. I instantly looked back at him, feeling a whimper work its way out of my mouth. Franklin smiled as he moved his hand against the flimsy cotton blocking his hand from where I wanted it most. 

“Please,” I whispered, moving my hips against his hand. I hated the way he smiled. Mostly because it only further turned me on.

“Ohh, you’re such a needy slut. So wet and I’ve barely done anything,” he whispered as he squeezed my cheeks again. “You’ll get what you want, in due time,” he smiled. He pushed my underwear to the side and carefully moved his fingers between my folds. I couldn’t help myself as I ground down on his hand.

“Franklin,” I whimpered, my eyebrows furrowing slightly. He smirked, watching as I struggled for a moment. His finger slowly moving around the sensitive bud at the apex of my legs. My hands quickly held his arms, I was worried I’d fall if I didn’t hold onto him. My legs and knees became more and more wobbly as time passed.  

“Don’t cum till I tell you you can, Pretty Girl,” he whispered and pouted, “how about you open that pretty little mouth of yours, Sunshine,” he whispered, moving one of his hands to rest on my chin. I widened my eyes and took a deep breath.

I kept my eyes on him, a shaky breath leaving me, as I slowly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. Franklin smiled slightly before holding my cheeks and spitting right onto my tongue. He nudged my mouth shut, forcing me to hold his spit in my mouth for a moment. I had to force myself not to gag as I held his spit before swallowing it. 

“What a good little whore,” Franklin cooed, cocking his head to his shoulder. I took a shaky breath as his movements in my pants picked up pace. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at me. I wanted to have a snarky reply, I really did. But I swear to god, my mouth and body betrayed me because an honest to god moan came from me. 

“Oh, you certainly did enjoy that,” he laughed as his movements in between my legs quickened. I looked up at him with wide eyes as a familiar tension grew in my abdomen.

But instead of saying anything else, he just put his mouth over mine, swallowing whatever sounds emitted from my mouth. He smiled, clearly enjoying my mild suffering. 

My body struggled to move, almost missing the sign of Franklin moving. On wobbly legs, my feet carried me backwards, and with Franklin's guidance, up the steps. My arms were wrapped around his neck to keep close to him. 

I was so close, I could feel the tension about to snap within me. The noises that were coming from me were becoming more desperate the closer I got to the snap. Franklin didn't seem bothered by my sounds at all. In fact, he was amused. 

He was so amused, that when he pulled his hands from my pants and pushed me over the counter, he laughed when I cried out. I wasn't sure the sound was from annoyance from him stopping, or from shock from being pushed down over the counter. His hand was firmly placed on my back, keeping me in place.

“What was that for!?” I shouted, trying to stand back up, only to be forced back down by Franklin, “You better do something better than leaving me high and dry! I swear to God!” I shouted as I wiggled my butt into his crotch. A certain hardness pressed into my butt and leg, causing me (and Franklin) to hold back a groan. Franklin’s hand was still around my waist, planted firmly on my hip to hold me against him. “Please, just fuck me already! Fuck!” I shifted my feet a bit and tightly pressed my thighs. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Franklin laughed as he shoved his knee between my legs, blocking his foot between mine to keep my legs apart more, “If you’re going to finish, you’re gonna finish on my cock. You got that, Sunshine?” he groaned as he pressed his front into my butt more. I bit my lips together, nodded and whined, hoping that was a good enough answer. “Uh huh, use your words, Sunshine. Do you understand that?” he asked as he leaned closer to my ear.

“Yes! Yes, I understand! Please,” I whimpered as his grip loosened on my hip and moved to the button of my jeans. I let out a deep relieved sigh as my jeans fell to the ground around my ankles. Although my moment of relief and excitement was cut short by a loud crack in the air, and a sudden pain on my bottom. 

“Fuck!” I gasped once I finally regained the ability to talk and breathe. My chest began heaving as my body started to get more worked up. The sudden smack on my ass went straight to my core, causing me to involuntarily moan. Franklin laughed lightly, and I could just see him shaking his head in amusement.

“What do you want, Sunshine?” Franklin asked, his voice low, lower than before. I swallowed roughly before lifting my head slightly.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, trying hard to look over my shoulder at him. His glasses were slipping down his nose, and his hair was covering his eyes. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and swept across his lower lip.

“Wrong,” he muttered before striking my butt again. A pleased shriek fell from my lips as I dropped my head down to the counter. “What do you want,” 

“Franklin, please,” my words were soft as my breathing got rougher, “Fuck me, please, do… Do whatever you-you want… To me,” my statement was punctuated by another strike on my ass. A mix of a cry and a moan escaped my lips as he gently rubbed the sore spot on my bottom. But it was only a moment before he smacked my other butt cheek. 

“Do it again! Please,” I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. I waited for his hand to make contact with my bare bottom again, but instead, I got nothing. I sucked in a deep breath before letting out a soft whimper, “Please,” I begged as I swayed my hips slightly from side to side. I hoped my begging would have given me what I wanted. But at this point, I’m not sure what I wanted more, to be fucked by him, or to be spanked by him over, and over again.

After he spanked my butt for the 6th time, Franklin’s hand grazed over each cheek before lightly dragging his fingers over my core. 

“You’re so wet, Sunshine,” he whispered as he moved his fingers over my cunt. Any response I thought I had gone out the window when he pushed two fingers into my entrance. So, I guess my response came in as a moan. “Fuck,” he groaned with pleasure.  

I was in trouble. He knew that too. The way he was playing with me, toying with me to get even the slightest reaction. Trying to get me as close as possible, without actually getting me over the edge. But whenever he curled his fingers just right, or just slightly touched my clit. 

“I-I’m so close,” I cried, my body moving closer to him. Franklin laughed again as he pulled his hand away from my body. This was the first time tonight that he wasn’t touching me. His hands were away from me, and as I tried to move closer to him I found nothing.

“Stay still, I want to remember this moment,” Franklin muttered as he rested a hand on my lower back, “Are you ready, Sunshine,” he asked, his tone seemed gentle. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Mmm-hmm, yes,” I nodded, feeling my hair move around before finally falling around my face. My body shivered as the sound of his zipper went down. And my body jerked once his hands were on my hips. 

I folded my arms on the counter. But what I should have done was brace myself against it in a better way. My body’s excitement was getting the better of me, and I could feel myself stray from the counter, and slowly towards his body.

“Stay still,” he muttered as he pushed me closer to the counter. My lungs ceased to function as I felt him rub the head of his cock against my slit. I choked back a moan and pressed  my lips together. And then he slowly began pushing into my entrance.

“Oh god,” I cried, pressing my face into my arms. 

“Name’s Franklin, but God works just fine,” he laughed behind me as he slowed his entrance. I gasped as he stopped, before slamming fully into me in one go. I couldn’t stop the shout that came from the pit of my stomach.

Once we were both used to each other, he started moving, his hips quickly finding a rhythm we were both pleased with. The silent room was quickly occupied by the grunts or moans from its only two occupants, and the sound of skin hitting skin.

I slowly lifted my head, looking out at the bowling alley. Is it bad that I didn’t think that this was weird or bad? That I was being fucked over the counter by a guy I just met? What would my grandfather think if he ever knew about this? Good thing he was never going to find out.

Franklin wrapped my hair around his hand before pulling me back up so my back was flush against his chest. His movements stilled, his hips pressed against mine as he stayed totally in me. My body froze like ice as I tried to take a deep breath. My senses were suddenly overwhelmed, and I honestly loved it. 

“Fuck,” I cried, pushing my hips against him to get some sort of relief. But I only groaned as he wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me still as well. “Please,”

“So greedy, so filthy,” Franklin groaned as he buried himself deeper into me. I whimpered as I bit my lips. The bitter, metallic taste of blood found its way to my tastebuds. “How does that feel? Does it feel good,” his voice was so low, nearly a growl in my ear. I sucked in a deep breath of air, slowly turning my face to look at him. “Just holding my cock in you?” he asked before pressing his lips harshly to the side of my face. 

“I… I do…” I spoke quickly and in a harsh whisper. My muscles clenched around him, wanting something to give me help for my finish. While Franklin kept his lips pressed to the side of my face, while his hands were otherwise preoccupied. One hand was holding one of my breasts, gently kneading at it. While the other was between my legs, slowly moving around my sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, please move,” I whimpered, pressing my shoulder into his shoulder a bit more. Franklin removed his hand from my chest before gently pushing me back over the counter. I let out a pleased moan once he started moving his hips again. It only took a matter of moments before the tension in me snapped, sending me over the edge. My vision turned white, and my hands balled into fists, my nails would cause indentations in my palms once my hands relaxed.

And, after a few more faulty thrusts into me, Franklin finished close behind me. His body hunched over mine, his hands holding himself up on the counter beside me. Neither of us wanted to move, still trying to calm down from what just happened. But also, the mess to follow once he finally stepped away from me. 

“I didn’t know I needed that,” I truthfully stated. Franklin laughed before standing upright. I’d be lying if I said I wanted him to step away from me. So when he eventually did, I held back the whimper. 

“Paper towels?” he asked as he fixed himself back into his pants. I swallowed roughly as I blindly pointed towards where I was cleaning the rental bowling shoes. He stepped away from me, going to grab the things he sought after. 

The mixture of the two of us slowly leaked down my inner thigh, and I just knew that mess would not be fun to clean, now or later. When Franklin returned and wiped a damp paper towel up my thigh, I jumped. 

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked as he helped me stand up straight. My legs and knees were so shaky, I almost fell. He wrapped his arms around me to keep me upright. I only struggled a little bit to pull my jeans and underwear back up, but I was very relieved when they were back around my waist.

“I had a great time,” he laughed. I swallowed roughly before stepping back away from him. I hoisted myself up so I was sitting on the counter, only to let out a sharp cry and jump off the counter. How the fuck did I forget about the pain on my ass?

“Did it feel like winning?” I asked, feeling a smile grow on my lips. Franklin looked up at me with a sly smile, cocking his head to his shoulder.

“I always win in this bowling alley, Sunshine,” he muttered as he stared at me. I blinked slowly. “Except for that one time. But every time after… Always a win,”

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Geralt in 21 with partner of your choice for the lingerie prompts!!

I hope we’re feeling Geralt X Eskel tonight bc I wanted to write Eskel v badly.

"Maybe it's a bad idea," Geralt mumbles, twisting to look at his ass in the mirror. Objectively, he looks good, but fear and self-doubt creep into his mind anyway. Outside the bedroom door, Eskel sighs.

"Can I just see it so I can give you an honest opinion? Not one tainted by your horrific self-loathing."

Geralt takes another look at himself, resists the urge to sigh, and steps away from the mirror. If it was anyone else but Eskel, he'd lock the door and undress before going back out, but he trusts Eskel. And tonight, he's hoping Eskel is a better judge than he. He takes a deep breath as he steps out into the living room and as soon as Eskel's eyes are on him, he deflates. He feels stupid.

"I'm just gonna change," he mumbles, but Eskel reaches out to stop him.

"Don't. He'll love it."

"Are you sure?"

Eskel nods slowly, a faint smile pulling at his lips. "You look… incredible. Only an idiot wouldn't love you in this."

Geralt doesn't believe him, but he trusts Eskel's judgement. He slips back into his room, closing the door behind him (although there's not much left that Eskel hasn't seen tonight) and turns to his closet to pick out what to wear.

Lingerie aside, he's looking forward to tonight. Vernon is… something. But it's not like Geralt is going to marry him or anything. He wants to fuck him, though and tonight is the fourth time they've been out, so he's optimistic - hence the wardrobe choice.

He leaves the house just after five with enough time to get to the restaurant before their 5:30 reservation.

By six, he's sat in the underground parking with his head on the steering wheel.

He feels like an idiot to have assumed this was going anywhere. And yeah, maybe he wasn't as into the guy as he should have been, but being turned down outright still fucking sucks. And to make matters worse, all he can feel is the press of the straps digging into his skin. It's irritating, maddeningly so, and only serves to remind him of how fucking stupid he was to think someone might want him. But he can't go upstairs because Eskel will be there and he'll ask why he's home so early and Geralt will have to tell him. And the only thing worse than being stood up and having to come home and take off the lingerie he bought specifically for tonight (an already embarrassing experience) is having to admit to your best friend that it happened.

Geralt groans and squeezes his eyes shut, banging his head against the steering wheel. If he just stays down here long enough, Eskel will never know. He'll think he went out and had a great time and came home. It's what he usually does. But factoring time for dinner, sex, and potential conversation afterwards? He'll be stuck down here for hours. Which is not at all how he intended to spend his night.

He picks his phone up off the passenger seat and makes to get out of the car, but there's one unread message that catches his eye and he opens it quickly, hoping it's Roche. It's Eskel, because of course, it is, hoping that his night goes well. Geralt just groans at the screen before locking it and shoving his phone in his pocket where it can't taunt him.

When he gets up to their shared apartment, he waits again before letting himself in. Only for a few minutes, only to try and hear if Eskel is in the living room. But there's no sound coming from within, so he pushes the door open and sneaks to his bedroom. But as the door is clicking shut, Eskel calls out.

"Geralt?"

Fuck.

"Geralt, is that you? What are you doing home?"

"Uh- change of plans," he mumbles. He wants to make up an excuse, to say he's not feeling well or something came up, but he can't form the words. Instead, he flops onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling, which is where Eskel finds him a moment later.

"What happened?" he asks gently. Geralt shrugs and sighs.

"Don't know." He does know. It's the same thing that happens every time, but he knows Eskel doesn't like when he talks badly about himself, so Geralt keeps quiet. "Just didn't show."

His skin prickles and he shuts his eyes. Just for once, he'd like to be good enough for someone. For someone to want to be with him. He's always the one setting the dates or reaching out to start with and he doesn't know why he bothers because it never goes well for him. The best he gets is Eskel's sympathy and a bottle of gin to come home to.

"Asshole," Eskel mutters, "doesn't deserve you anyway. You can do better." Geralt scoffs, but Eskel persists and eventually, Geralt just tunes it out because one day Eskel will realize that he is inherently unlovable, that he's not worth the time to text and say hey I'm not showing up tonight.

"Thanks," he mumbles, but it's false.

"You wanna watch tv and drink vodka?"

For the first time in hours, Geralt smiles.

"You know I do."

Watching tv and drinking vodka turns into watching Jeopardy and drinking if you get the answer wrong. And the longer it goes on, the fewer answers either of them gets right. It's not until late that Geralt realizes he never got changed when he came home. He peels off his shirt, having spilled his drink on it, and the black straps are there, crisscrossing across his chest and reminding him he's an idiot. Which is a shame really because the piece itself is nice and now he'll never get a chance to enjoy it properly.

"S nice," Eskel mumbles next to him. Geralt looks up to see what he's talking about and finds Eskel looking back at him. "Vernon's a fuckin' idiot turning you down in that." Geralt huffs a humourless laugh.

"You're drunk," he shrugs, "and you're s'posed to say shit like that when I'm having a bad day."

"True though. Wish you didn't think so badly of yourself all the time. You're hot, Geralt, simple as that. You're the only one who doesn't see it." Geralt pauses for a second, decides he's misheard, and shrugs it off. He picks the bottle up off the table, takes a large drink, and passes it to Eskel who sighs, but takes it anyway.

But over the next half hour, he catches Eskel looking at him. And not just glancing over at him, but really looking at him in a way that makes the skin on the back of his neck prickle.

"What?" he asks finally, his anxiety getting the better of him. "What's wrong?"

"Just thought you'd have taken it off by now, thought you'd wanna be comfortable."

"It is?" Geralt says simply and Eskel purses his lips and nods.

"Can I touch it?" Eskel looks up at him earnestly and Geralt would be an idiot to say no to him now. He nods slowly and Eskel reaches out, tracing the lines of the leather. His fingers slip, brushing against his skin, Geralt pretends not to notice.

He shifts to get more comfortable, turning to face Eskel and leaning into the couch cushions. And Eskel grows bolder, slipping his fingers into the rings joining the straps and tugging gently, letting the leather lift from his skin before releasing it. Geralt shudders the first time he does it and that only seems to encourage Eskel.

One warm hand presses against his chest, slipping down to the button on his jeans. Eskel turns it between his fingers for a moment before looking up at him.

"Should take these off," he hums, "let me see the rest."

"You saw the rest earlier."

"Not like this."

To Geralt's drunk mind, it seems like sensible reasoning, so he quickly unbuttons his jeans and pushes them to the floor. He feels suddenly exposed in only leather straps and a lacy thong, but Eskel is transfixed. He runs a hand up Geralt's thigh and Geralt shudders under the warmth of it. The room is cold, his skin breaking out in goosebumps now that he's mostly bare, but Eskel's palm is warm where it slides against his skin and Geralt closes his eyes at the feeling.

He stops where the leather digs into Geralt's thighs, pressing his thumb beneath it and following the line along. Geralt is only partially aware of the way his pulse spikes, the way his skin prickles under Eskel's touch, but he knows that he likes it, so he doesn't tell him to stop.

"Geralt." Geralt opens his eyes and looks up to find Eskel looking back at him, his expression soft. "Can I kiss you?"

Geralt's mind whirls to try and catch up with what it's evidently missed. He doesn't even realize he's nodding, and then Eskel's mouth is on his own, soft and warm, and he can't think about anything else. His fingers slip instinctively into Eskel's hair and Geralt finds himself laid back against the arm of the couch as Eskel fits himself between his thighs.

He's wearing sweatpants and the softness of the fabric feels amazing in contrast to the leather wrapped around his thighs. Geralt nearly groans when Eskel shifts forward, but then his attention is refocused to where Eskel's hand settles on his pec, fingers slipping under the leather straps. Eskel breaks the kiss just long enough to mumble fuck, before pressing into his neck and kissing under his jaw.

"D'you have any fucking idea how you look in this?" he mumbles, "christ Geralt, you're stupid beautiful." Geralt starts at that. No one has ever called him beautiful before. On occasion, he's been called hot, but he knows it's just his body they're interested in. When Eskel calls him beautiful, it feels like something more.

"You're drunk," he accuses and Eskel laughs against his skin.

"But so are you. Drunk and beautiful." Eskel shifts down the couch, pressing soft kisses down Geralt's chest until he reaches his nipples. "Fuck. You just put 'em on display like this?" he groans, "what's a man supposed to do with himself, Geralt?"

Geralt squirms under the praise, but he shuts his eyes, focusing instead of the brush of Eskel's lips, the warm wetness where his tongue peeks out from between his lips. He'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about Eskel this way, but Eskel was always just one more in a long line of people who would rather just be friends. So Geralt doesn't think about it. Much. On occasion, he'll imagine what might have been if they'd met at a different time, or on nights when nothing else is going right, he'll picture him above him as he jerks off, inevitably falling asleep guilty and ashamed.

But he never expected anything like this.

Eskel sucks a nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue at the numb and Geralt lets out a shaky moan, shifting his hips beneath him. The sensation goes straight to his cock and he realizes belatedly that he's half hard. It's not until Eskel readjusts himself that Geralt realizes he's also only wearing a tiny, lacy thong and that it was barely covering him to begin with.

His worries go unnoticed by Eskel who is now sitting sideways, one arm under Geralt's back and the other slipping slowly down his chest, catching on each of the straps as it goes. He stops abruptly and Geralt hears a little hum before Eskel's leaning back up to him, nosing under his jaw.

"You're already so hard," he groans, "can I touch you?"

"Please," Geralt whispers.

There's no hesitation as Eskel's palm cups his cock, first over the lace, then quickly pushing beneath it to wrap a hand around him. He strokes him slowly, working him up to full hardness in no time at all and then he's ducking down and wrapping his lips around the head of his cock. Geralt whispers and bucks and when he looks down, the hand that was on his cock is now shoved down Eskel's sweatpants.

"Let me see," he breathes and Eskel shoves the pants down without so much as wavering in his ministrations.

Once he catches sight of Eskel's cock, he can't look away. He watches the way it slips between his fingers with fascination, imagining his own hand around him, his mouth around him.

"Fuck me," he says and Eskel pulls off his cock to stare at him.

"You want me?"

Geralt nods and leans in to kiss him again, sighing softly against Eskel's lips before pulling away. "Yes. Always, please."

Eskel doesn't hesitate, wrapping his arms around Geralt's waist and kissing him soundly as he pulls him up into his lap. When he shifts his hips, Geralt can feel the thick length of Eskel's erection through the lace and it only makes him want him more. He nips at his lips, kisses him hard and Eskel laughs softly against his mouth.

"Fuck, you're really somethin' aren't you."

"Lube," Geralt grumbles. He shifts to move, but Eskel stops him. When Geralt looks up, he looks embarrassed then he shoves a hand down the side of the couch and Geralt realizes why.

For whatever reason, there's a bottle of lube stashed between the cushions and he offers Eskel a questioning look.

"Full disclosure?" Eskel shrugs, "I couldn't get the thought of you all wrapped up in that out of my head. I was gonna jerk off while you were gone to try and get it out of my system but then you came home."

"Mm," Geralt hums, "good thing I did."

He kisses him again, slow and deep, taking the bottle from Eskel's hands and flicking it open. He pours probably more than he needs to into Eskel's hand then drops the bottle again, uncaring as Eskel's fingers press back between his cheeks. Eskel makes no attempt to remove the thong, just slips his fingers beneath it and presses against him.

Eskel makes quick work of opening him up, fucking into him with thick fingers and kissing the moans from Geralt's lips. When he fucks him, it's quick and hard and neither of them is sober enough to have much finesse, but it's good. It's the first time in maybe years that Geralt remembers genuinely enjoying himself during sex and when they're finished, he collapses against Eskel's chest and just stays there.

Warm arms wrap around him and Eskel kisses his shoulders and slowly, they both drift off to sleep.

In the morning, Geralt wakes up alone with a pounding headache and something digging into his skin. As he looks down at himself, at the straps barely covering his skin, everything rushes back to him and he feels sick. Fuck.

He shouldn't have given in, should have said no to Eskel's advances. But he was in a bad place and he wanted. He still wants him, but evidently, Eskel was just horny and drunk. Mark him down as another who doesn't want to stay. Geralt wants to go back to bed, to call Yen and ask her to drag him out to do anything but stay at home in the apartment, but he supposes this is something that should be dealt with sooner rather than later.

He barely makes it to his feet before Eskel comes downstairs. He's dressed in only his sweatpants, hung low on his hips, and Geralt groans internally.

"I'm sorry," he blurts and at the exact same time, Eskel says "I've got the bath running." To which, Geralt doesn't have a response.

"You first," Eskel says tentatively. Geralt sighs.

"I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have-" he cuts himself off, failing to put his thoughts into words.

"Oh. Right. Yeah. It's just… I've been up for half an hour making breakfast and running a bath and I didn't account for regretting what happened last night." Eskel smiles up at him and Geralt's shoulders slump. Sometimes he hates how well Eskel knows him, but this morning he's glad for it.

Eskel steps up close, reaching around to undo the clasps at the back of Geralt's neck and gently tugging the lingerie down until it falls in a pile on the floor. The thong goes next and Geralt doesn't say a word as Eskel's hands settle on his hips.

"Bath, breakfast, and then we're going to sit down and talk about this," he breathes, "but don't think for a second that I'm gonna let you worry yourself out of this. Last night was good. You were- you are beautiful. Go upstairs and I'll be up in a minute if you want?"

Geralt isn't sure exactly how Eskel thinks he's going to fit the both of them into their bathtub, but he isn't going to let that stop him from trying.

"Okay," he whispers. Eskel smiles and tips forward, stopping at the last moment, but Geralt leans in to close the space, kissing him softly. He loses himself for a moment in the slide of Eskel's lips against his own and he doesn't realize he's being pulled forward until he shifts his hips and presses against Eskel's cock, hard in his sweats.

"Bath, breakfast, talk," Eskel repeats, breathless, "after that I'd like to keep you in my bed for a week."

As far as ideas go, Geralt thinks it's a damn good one.

lingerie prompts~

[arsenicxarcana]

m5(4?) helping you rehabilitate banished lucio

or rather reacting to “hey i brought this hobo home can we keep him”

(tending towards nadia’s/THD)

NADIA:

oh you poor sweet summer child, what have you done

may lock him up in the dungeons at first, to make sure he can’t try anything

hope you like loud goat wailing that can be heard across the palace because the absolute LAST thing he wants is to be isolated again

you have to convince her he’s in no state to answer for his crimes like this, not yet, let him recover a little first - all he wants right now is a warm bed and someone to care about him, not taking over vesuvia

(and if this changes you can put him right back in jail)

this does not change, he’s mostly interested in staying close to you

for the most part she remains hands-off, just authorizing various acquisitions for him like any other guest

he will sometimes try to give her little gifts, usually food/wine or little trinkets left outside her door like a cat bringing dead mice

she takes them when no one is around

she may catch him at this one day, and they have a little talk through the crack in the door because he’ll bolt if she opens it

“i’m sorry” “i know. i can’t forgive you” “i know”

this becomes a thing, usually late at night, sitting by her door and telling her things, bringing her more specific gifts based on any troubles she might have had, asking her for advice about making you happy

eventually, maybe, you might even be able to convince them to take lunch together, with you sitting between them as a trusted shield

JULIAN:

he WANTS to say absolutely not, not in a million years, he doesn’t deserve the kindness, especially not yours

he WANTS to send him right back to the realms himself, or call the guards, anything to keep him away from you

but he is a doctor, and helping is in his nature

and it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that this poor bastard needs help

and he knows what it’s like to be alone and uncertain of your future

lucio treats him as if they were already old friends, something that seems to endear and rankle him

at first he says he’ll only check him over to make sure he’s not hurt or sick, then you’re on your own, he washes his hands of this nonsense

then he says maybe bring him back around later for another check-up, just in case he missed something the first time

then he says that maybe you two could stick around for a little while, it looks like there’s a storm on the horizon

then he says the room above the clinic is open, most of the time, he’s much too busy to sleep as much as he should, if lucio needs somewhere to lie low for a bit

then he says actually there’s my place in south end, a bit more accommodating but no less abandoned, that might be a little more your speed

and then you find yourself all three coming back from a night on the town, crashing higgledy-piggledy in and around julian’s bedroom, a tangle of limbs and drunken laughter

julian attempts to cook breakfast for you afterwards, with mixed results

(just because lucio will eat it doesn’t mean it’s edible)

ASRA:

he trusts your judgment

usually

not this time, please put that thing back where it came from or so help me

i don’t care if he doesn’t want to go back he can’t stay here, not in this house, not after everything he’s done

there MAY be a fight and it MAY get ugly

either asra storms tf out or they kick both of you out for the night before he can do something stupid

they feel bad as hell, at least for you

if you’ve been kicked out, you take lucio down to the rowdy raven and set up together in the spare room above the bar (and he’s probably crying bc he’s about 75% sure you’re going to get rid of him for Causing Problems)

if asra left, you let lucio have the couch but you’re not about to sleep until asra comes back (crying less, still awkward as hell)

finally, either way, he comes to apologize

but he really, really doesn’t want you to keep the goat and pls think of an alternative? why does it have to be you?

“i’m the one that put him there in the first place”

you don’t! have to feel bad for that!! look at him he’s fine

(lucio currently all but hiding behind you and holding your hand tight, making the saddest little face)

“i can’t just abandon him again, asra. i couldn’t bear it”

oh, curse your good nature

they love that about you but right now it’s the bane of his existence

you tell asra he doesn’t have to forgive him, or even like him - just help me get him back on his feet, pls, just trust me

god. fine. but he sleeps on the couch. and the minute he’s no longer pathetic his ass is out the door

faust stop chilling on his shoulders i swear to god--

PORTIA:

she doesn’t have the old history, but she remembers the recent history (stealing your body and being a dick), so she’s still gonna be hostile

there will probably be at least one physical brawl

will probably definitely make him cry

feels bad about it

pepi seems to trust him for some reason (bc fuck you n*h) and she trusts pepi so it can’t be all bad??

gonna put his ass to work in the vegetable garden if he’s expected to stay in her cottage, which he might because it’s close to the palace (but far from people)

he might complain but honestly this is nothing compared to the realms

in return he gets good food, a warm bath, and a pillow pile shared with you, portia and pepi

portia will definitely help you socialize him, especially if you’re not that extroverted yourself, taking him on trips into the city

once he feels more comfortable around her they feed off each other’s energy until they’re one big mass of chaos

you regret your life choices

her cuddly, affectionate nature lines up nicely with his touch starvation and they often become inseparable at the bed time or other soft, quiet moments where you’re just in each other’s company

MURIEL:

lmao nah

unless this man finds the hobo first AND feels bad enough to not just leave his ass alone in the forest, good luck with getting him to help you with this

your memory privileges are absolutely revoked goodbye

[bakubros-boo-thang]

Thirty seconds: Cameras & Caramel

Bakugou x ‘model’ reader

Warnings: cursing, sfw, mentioning of body type

Quirk: Stopping time ( limited time and limited amount of people)

Summary: When your roommate kinda pushes fate at your doorstep you end up in bed with Bakugou. That wouldn’t be so bad, except for the pervy director, the spotlights and the fact that you are definitely not used to model. Atleast you can make sure you get your 30 seconds of peace....

Art by : Chocalicia

Bakugou hated these types of things. He knew that being a hero on the rise meant that he had to grow his fanbase. He HAD to be known. He had to show up at random places, on billboards, in magazines and on tv. Not just for the live broadcastings if his fights, but also in random commercials.

He hated those commercials most. With magazines it was just a picture, a second of pretending. With commercials you had to pretend for longer. Professional models were at least professional about it, but those aspiring ones were trying so hard to get more out of the shoot than just a paycheck. They probably went into the shoot just for him. It would be a lie if he never ended up next to a stranger because of that. He had a busy schedule and sometimes he was touch starved. Those moments were the only moments his “work” and private life were combined. The rare private life he had.

You on the other hand had no idea what you were up to. You never wanted to be a model, so you weren’t. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When searching for a “plus-sized” model in the middle of Tokyo you -a foreigner- stood out and when asked for a one time job, you had politely declined until your roommate had said: “You are here for that once in a lifetime moment, get out of your comfort zone, fuck the insecurities and experience that moment”. So here you were. Wearing a sleeveless top and black sleeping shorts. Laying in a fake bed, on a fake set, bright spotlight hurting you eyes and with a blanket only covering your ass and barely covering your boobs (which looked nude bc of the illusion). Since your friend pushed you to do this, she was the one who did all the talking. You just knew that you were supposed to lay like this, act shocked by your male counterpart and needed to smell his perfume. Something about “Comforting and sexy.” It was a stupid catchphrase. You had been living in Japan for a couple months, studying quirks.... you had only chosen that major, because of your own struggle with your quirk and had no real goal with the study, but the chance to finish up the course in Japan was something you couldn’t pass up. Since Japan was the country with the most development of quirks, it was the perfect choice. You worked a part-time job as a barista on the side and you couldn’t complain. But when you saw him you definitely wanted to complain. The first thing you noticed was the spiky blond hair, then his red piercing eyes and since you didn’t want him to catch you staring at his abs, you decided to use your quirks. The room was filled with eight people including the two of you so it wasn’t that difficult to do. And so you just paused everyone. You knew that you could only keep it up for thirty seconds at most, but in those seconds you could take a good look at him. At the bored expression he had, the way he was only wearing low hanging jeans and those rock-hard abs. You had barely fifteen seconds left to just readjust yourself one last time, trying to ignore your insecurities and give yourself the ultimate poker face, you laid in the position. Time went back on an nobody seemed to have noticed the missing seconds. Bakugou definitely looked slightly confused, which didn’t stop him from walking towards you and yelling to no one in particular: “Let’s get this shit over with, I have things to do.” He didn’t even acknowledge you. “Okay let’s get this thing right in the first take. Bakugou you just came home from a long patrol, you walk over to your s/o who is all curled up in bed and you give her a kiss on her cheek, she wakes up smelling your neck and realizes that you still smell like our cologne. She pulls you towards her and then it’s CUT, since we need to keep this safe for work right? We will film the solo clips of you after this scene. Ready? ACTION.”

Bakugou walked towards you. His face looked kind, maybe even loving in some cocky way though. Confidence was more the right word. You quickly close your eyes knowing you have to be ‘asleep’. 20 seconds later your eyes still haven't opened up, Bakugou was supposed to kiss you awake right? “DUMBASS WHY AREN’T YOU DOING YOUR DAMN JOB.” You couldn’t even respond, he scared you with the way he talked, of course you had heard of him. The hero with the terrible temper, but still experiencing it first-hand kinda sucked. “I... I... I didn’t....” The director cut you off. “CUT, let’s try it again.” Bakugou had already gone back to reshoot the scene. “ACTION.” He walked towards you again. This time you knew the camera would only focus on your face when he ‘kissed’ your cheeks, which he wasn’t planning on actually doing. You didn’t know whether it was him being respectful or him hating you, but it really annoyed you so you decided to give him a little payback. As he faked kissing your cheek you decided to use your quirk and pause only him. You didn’t touch his lips. You did however smell him. He didn’t smell like that disgusting cologne. He smelled like sweat and something burning. A light caramel smell. It was intoxicating. You had forgotten that you had only paused him, so the rest of the crew saw Bakugou standing over you with pouted lips not moving at all. When you realized that you were still pausing him, you quickly released the quirk and here he was all flustered, confused and definitely annoyed at himself for losing his cool. You felt a little guilty, but on the other side this was his payback. No one said anything about the rising hero’s pouted lips though, not wanting to trigger the hero’s anger. “Let’s just try it once more. Action.” Before Bakugou walked back to his starting point he whispered “ err... sorry for acting so creepy. I... I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Now you DID feel horrible. You had to make sure this take worked out.

He walked over to you and actually kissed your cheek. You let go of all your insecurities, ‘Opened’ your eyes and you smiled at him with a smile full of love (mostly due to the fact that you were still intoxicated by his smell and of course his good looks, and maybe that apology did kinda make him seem... likeable), you once again smelled his neck which was far from punishment and the rest was just natural to you. Pushing your hands over to his neck and pulling him in felt amazing. Seeing him lay next to you felt even better and even he couldn’t help but to give you a tiny smile. Probably because you were radiating so much happiness. (Which was definitely not because you were such a good actor). “CUT. This was perfect, there is just one little thing I want to add, but give me two minutes before I explain. You can stay in your positions.” Bakugou looked at you. Just now noticing the way you looked naked. “Are you comfortable like that?” He asked. “Err... not really, but probably because this is my first time doing this.” He clicked his tongue “Tsk you’re not a model?” You shrugged “Nope just a regular barista who’s roommate forced her to end up in this weird commercial for err... cologne right?” Bakugou chuckled, “Yeah goddamn awful cologne.” You couldn’t help but agree. “They made me smell a tester, you definitely didn’t smell like that, fortunately.” He raised his eyebrow “How did I smell then, extra?” But his “extra” didn’t sound as threatening as it usually sounded in the fight videos on his Youtube page. It sounded more like a dare, but before you got the chance to explain the director already started explaining his new idea. “ I know we are not supposed to do anything not safe for work, but sex still sells, so we will just plant a seed.” He couldn’t help but give you a pervy look that made you feel sick to your stomach. “Only thing you two should do is end up under the covers, that's it. Action!” He continued.

“WHAT THE HELL, DO YOU EXPECT ME TO GO UNDER THE BLANKET WITH HER?!” Bakugou screamed. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. You barely knew him, but still hearing him get so angry for having to look at you and sharing that small space with him, definitely did hurt.

“Bakugou, why are you being difficult?” The director sighed. “ Look how you made her look, this girl has never been on a set and you already made her lay nude under a blanket, expecting me to go under that blanket. I’m not a FUCKING PERVERT GODDAMIT!” He was looking so angry, but you had to tell him. You slightly tapped his shoulder. “WHAT?!” He screamed. “Err... Bakugou...” You lifted up the blanket. “I’m not naked.” You couldn’t help but notice the quick scan he gave your body. You couldn’t blame him, especially since you had done the same. “Oh well, still you shouldn’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” You gave him a tiny smile. “Don’t worry I trust you, it’s only for a second right.” He couldn’t help it. You intrigued him. The way you made him forget what he was doing (literally), the way you were sooo out of place, but still seemed to enjoy your time here and the way you just talked to him. “Alright let’s go then ACTION.” And the crew just knew Bakugou’s “action” was just as valid as the director’s.

You continued with the loving looks. Bakugou’s smile was a lot bigger than before, “He can really act.” You thought to yourself. And while you were still holding his neck in your arms, he grabbed the blanket and put it over the two of you in a swift move. Now you were surrounded in the dark. The only thing you could see were his red eyes. “Thanks for making me feel at ease today Bakugou. It was nice of you being cautious whether you should kiss me. Err... I mean kiss my cheek.” You stammered quickly, knowing that this conversation could only take a few seconds. “ No problem Dumbass. I’m still cautious though..” his face was closer now. “About what?” You let out. Feeling butterflies in your stomach, feeling your breathing stagger and your hands getting sweaty. “About whether I should kiss you right now. You’re probably too nervous with everyone around right?” How had he known that you wanted to kiss him? You felt humiliated, but still you had a ace up your sleeve. “Don’t worry about that, I already paused everyone.” You said with a smirk. “WAIT A MINUTE, you DAMN extra were the one to pau...” but he couldn’t finish his sentence. You had already put your lips on his and he had already forgotten all about his anger. That day you found out that you could use your quirk to a much longer extent than 30 seconds.

Authors note: Just a quick story I came up with. Hope you enjoyed it and would appreciate a reblog💚