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avifaunaa · 2 days ago

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i tasted ash and knew [ it was you ] [ r.v. ]

Authors Note: My first Rio fic! Make sure to check the content warnings before reading further in case the content inside does not suit your taste! Otherwise please enjoy!

Some quick fun facts that literally none of you asked for but I added a lot of plot to a darksmutfic:

• I’m a former history major so some of this is based off of knowledge of what I know about time periods I studied and found special interest in

• Johnnie Ray was a popular artist in the fifties so I slipped him in for story ambience

• Only by 1955 did Americans, in half of their homes, have television sets. Up until then it was considered a bit of luxury with limited channels and times you could watch. You’d get static otherwise. Most homes had radios as their everyday media consumption.

• John Daly and the News was an actual television show broadcasted between 1953 — 1960 and is now what we know today as ABC World News Tonight

• Reader hinting that she and Rio shouldn’t talk so openly against how things are handled after the war is me referencing how the Second Red Scare [ Mcarthyism ] began to take an effect on the United States and how people ran their lives. Some actors, for example, would get blacklisted for the rest of their lives if they were accused of communism / socialism and found guilty even with denied claims from said actor.

Masterlist

PART TWO — in progress

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!reader

Summary: Rio Vidal broke the rules of her own nature only two times in her long existence — once when she allowed her and Agatha’s son to live long enough to love his mother and the second and last by finding you and taking a life for every year she allowed you to live. Centuries later this still held true . . . Only now Agatha was dead and she was angry. It was time you stop running from her.

Content Warnings: Dark — be warned in advance and take care of yourselves! This has flashbacks that occurs between 1943-1953 but details about World War II itself are very vague. Some mild period-typical gender norms in terms of roles and clothing during flashbacks. Mentions of abuse / abusive marriages, angst, death, manipulation, threats of violence, stalking, choking, misuse of magic ( Rio ), housewife R ( and encouraged by Rio 😭 ), kidnapping, somnophilia, non-con, cunnilngus ( r!receiving ), face grinding ( Rio!receiving )

Word Count: TBA

Rio rarely found it in her to feel anything other than passive nonchalance when she came for them. A hand held out expectantly, a knowing expression that made no room for desperate pleas, and she took another soul away from this plane she stalked for her souls.

Children were the worst to come for and made that choice even more difficult for Rio. Death did not care who it struck or why — she was only able to ensure the balance of the universe stayed intact by orders greater than her.

She loved Agatha and Nicholas though . . . Enough that she stayed away from her lover for the amount of time she had promised their son could adventure the Earth as short as it may be.

She loved Agatha enough to take him while she slept with him curled tight in her arms where he was the absolute safest he could be. Nicholas was all Agatha with his curly hair and serious eyes, but Rio liked to believe there was part of her in him as she took his hand and took him to her home.

Agatha evaded her incredibly well after Nicky’s death, doing her best to leave no traces and not stay in one place for too long.

Rio decided that Agatha wouldn’t be able to forgive her — if not forever then at least for now. So she stopped trying and allowed Agatha to grieve and slowly move on in her own impossible way.

Rio met you in 1945 during a high stress time for the world. It was wonderfully busy in that she was everywhere more than usual. A war just ended and wars made Rio’s life both miserable and fulfilled with the amount of workload she took on.

You were an unfortunate case and barely hanging onto your single thread of life. She could see it glowing from your chest, flickering in and out . . . As if it would be snuffed at any second should the wind blow right.

Her instincts told her it was your time but everything about the surroundings were telling her that nobody else agreed.

But why? She’s seen it millions of times in different cultures and centuries. A life had a time limit and she knew when that time ended even if they didn’t — or didn’t agree with it.

Rio’s entire instinct told her to take this soul and move onto the next so she could keep the balance moving and not disrupt the will of the universe that held them all together.

But she didn’t. She waited unseen in a corner and watched you as nurses came in to check on you, refilling your untouched water pitcher and cleaning you up. You still barely hung on, her eyes keeping locked onto the thrumming flow of life that beckoned her.

She finally stepped forward to get a closer look at you, tilting her chin down through her hood and taking note of every small detail that put you in her ledger for collection.

You were a battered woman more than anything, and she let her fingers drift over you to get a feel of your energy.

Her hand ripped back to her side at what she felt within you. You remained nearly lifeless and unconscious in the bed but your soul was very, very angry. It was a black pool of oily rage and despair that Rio was usually able to cleanse once she took them but . . .

She took your lifeline in her palm, feeling the warmth seep into her cold skin as it stuttered more as she grasped it.

She pressed a thumb into it as though it were something physical and willed a demand — live. I shall not take you today.

For a moment she wasn’t sure how her magic would treat your soul once they interacted. But more stuttering was soon filtered out like a street lamp, giving way to a soft and steady glow.

Rio smiled and released your lifeline, allowing it to lazily float back toward you where it retook its place reaching for her out of your chest.

Rio might be Death and she may hesitate to break rules on most days — but you were the exception she was going to see through and hope she didn’t regret later.

1943-1952

Rio left you soon after. She had to take a soul in your place and had others that needed her attention besides.

But she frequently returned to you with a pull she could not ignore. Your recovery was slow and painful, and she watched invisibly as you cried to your mother and father about your husband — the man you claimed was the one who caused your near death.

It filled her with something raw and visceral when she followed you back home to him. A drunk man who had no boundaries and no respect for the life he was given — nor yours.

She decided to wait a couple of years for the world to cool down from the anguish that it was trying to recover from. But she watched as you suffered with him and tried to keep your distance in order to avoid pain.

In 1952 Rio decides to play dress up. She comes to your beautifully decorated home and sickeningly pretty flowered garden in an outfit that women are scolded for daring to try on.

Slacks and a blouse with her hair styled for the time even if it wasn’t in her taste. She was going to play a partial role — but she had a plan and will see it through.

Rio knocked on your door so that there would be no question of a visitor, hands sliding into her pockets not long after as she waited.

She was not kept long.

The door opened and there you were pretty and smiling — even if Rio knew what the depths of your soul actually contained.

“Oh,” you said by greeting, hand going to your chest. “Hello there. Hi.”

“Hello,” Rio greeted back politely. “I moved in a few houses down and have gone about introducing myself to the neighbors. I want to build a community around me.”

You pursed your lips in surprise. “I didn’t know we had a house for sale,” you mused aloud, but waved your hand, “Oh, but who cares? Welcome to Westview.”

“My name is Rio, Rio Vidal,” Death greeted, sliding a hand out for you to take. If you were caught off guard by the invitation, you did not show it. You grasped her hand and shook it and relayed your name back even though she knew it well.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you said, still smiling. You gestured and stepped aside in your entry way, showing Rio the bright yellow walls and decorated room behind you, “Would you like to come in? I’ve been trying a hand at making a cake and I’m unfortunately not doing so good.”

Rio took the invitation and entered your home, laughing breathily at your statement. “A woman who can’t bake? Not a sight I see often.”

You shut the door behind you both and grew shy under the observation. “I was never great at it,” you admit as you started through the entry way and leading her through the living room. It was quiet.

“No husband?” she questioned aloud, noting the empty recliner diagonal to the newest television set that money could buy. Expensive taste for even a well earning home.

“One,” you called back when you reappeared from the entrance to the kitchen. “He works all day at the plant in Eastview. He just got promoted.”

“Eastview,” Rio murmured. “Isn’t that a bit of a drive?”

You smiled weakly. “Sure, but it’s good income. He works hard and keeps us fed. Come, I’ll prepare lemonade.”

Rio allowed herself to be guided into the kitchen that smelled like a bakery. Black and white checkered floors, green cabinets and brand new red chairs and a table set. If not good at baking you at least had good style.

You were pulling out a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and she wandered close to you. “It smells good.”

You glanced up at her from your pouring, “You came right as I was putting my third attempt in the oven. Hopefully it doesn’t burn this time. I admittedly bought store-made icing.”

Rio grinned, “My lips are sealed.”

You chuckled as you pushed her a glass of lemonade and took your own in two hands, clutching it close. “So . . . You have no husband of your own?”

Rio leaned against the mint-colored counter and twirled her glass. “Afraid not. Lost him to the war in ‘43.”

You frowned as an expression of sympathy started to cross your features, “Two years before that deadly disaster ended, too. I’m truly sorry he didn’t make it home.”

Trap set and bait laying with prey lured, Rio continued with a faux tremble in her hands, “They don’t tell you what to prepare for if they don’t come home. Don’t give you much in return for the price they pay for the country. How fair is that?”

Your lips thinned slightly. “No, I’d rather say the bets we place are never worth it.” A pause, full of hesitance. “But we shouldn’t talk so queerly about such things.”

Rio curled her fingers inward toward herself despite her grip on her glass. She was probing for information mostly — where she could poke holes and find weakness. The end of the war left a fear of things they didn’t understand . . . And politics became a large aspect of society as soon as the world began picking itself back up.

Rio reveled in the chaos and enjoyed — with no shame to be found — watching humans try and control their societies in endless cycles of vitriol and greed masked by different ideologies they claimed were better than the last.

It kept her in a job.

“Of course,” she finally said with a hint of emotion. “My apologies. I’m afraid my heart has been hardened by experience.”

You softened slightly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Of course. I can’t imagine the suffering you’ve endured — I just — I’m sure the country is thankful.”

Rio bit down a response that would get a rise out of you. She wanted to see that anger she felt in your soul when she initially came for you that day.

She couldn’t feel it just from standing here and pretending to be a sad widower of a war. It was difficult to get a feel on you in general right now — unless she pushed her magic and coerced them out of you.

A brief quiet fell over the two that mostly consisted of sipping lemonades and listening to Johnnie Raye’s alluring voice sing through the radio that was situated near the entryway of the kitchen on the counter.

“So,” Rio drew out and set down her glass. Hardly touched — just enough to make you believe she dare partake in such things, “Little ones?”

You smiled again but a sad gleam overtook the look this time. “No, no children.”

You didn’t go into detail and Rio decided that this topic was one she could let go until later either by finding out through her own means or getting to know you in this fashion.

“Well it looks like we could both use a friend at least,” the brunette said as her gaze turned to stare out the window for a brief moment. “The world can be entirely too lonely for women these days and I’m inclined to find ways to fight it.”

You perked up slightly at her veiled offer and bit your lip. “I’d love to be your friend.”

2024

Your neck was aching in a way that it hasn’t for a very long time. A subtle throb just below your hairline that felt deep inside of your muscles.

You told yourself it was just an ache — the magic she had worked on you was disintegrated and nothing more than a reminder of a past long dead.

But the ache did not relent when you woke up the next morning, or the next after that.

You began to wonder if the witch you paid to remove all the magic in your body was a fraud a week after the ache started.

You simply ignored it and went about your daily life even as it throbbed dully beneath your skin like a timer set to go off at any given point.

It started giving you headaches and then the nausea set in after that.

Pointedly, you continued to do absolutely nothing for it. Anxiety was shoved into a small lockbox and the key was dropped into the dark depths of your brain to be forgotten as you sealed the blinds for the night and went about prepping dinner.

Onions splayed out on a cutting board next to other ingredients ready to be prepped. A dinner for one but a pleasant distraction to keep your hands busy. You propped your phone up against the wall to listen to a podcast while you began peeling the onions.

Flowers for your parents graves and a visit to your nieces’ retirement home, you reminded yourself through the busy chatter of the podcast and stripping of the outer layer of the onion.

A shattered vase?

You stopped peeling and stopped breathing. You listened, drowning out the sound of your phone and focusing on background noise that may come next.

You quietly set down the onion and curl your fingers around the hilt of the knife you had set aside. You tucked it close to your side as you stepped silently to the entry way of your kitchen to look out into your living room.

Indeed your vase was shattered off of the display case where it had previously been sitting. An antique but not one you were invested in, really. The carpet was wet from the water that kept the flowers fed and the flowers themselves were scattered in the shards.

As you approached the mess and kneeled down to set about starting to clean it up, you tossed the knife to the side for now and got the shards out of the way first.

You ignored the alarms in your head. The warning signs that were so large and so close that they were nearly impossible to ignore.

You released a shaky breath and threw away the shards in the kitchen. You gathered yourself momentarily and repeated your mantra, “She isn’t coming back, you’ve gotten away,” enough to almost believe it.

You return to the living room to take care of the ruined flowers and clean up any leftover petals and leaves.

Even when you gathered the crumbled flowers and found a perfectly intact green rose aligned in the middle of them.

The thorn cut your thumb open and left a wound that bleed for two days.

Five more days continued on after that slower than the thick molasses that your grandmother used to make when you would visit her home as a child.

You visit your parents in Westview once you’re sure activity of magic has disappeared. You knew the Scarlet Witch had contained the once lovely and beautiful town and used it to create something for herself she was believed she had the right to.

It’s been months — hell a year even. The news claimed that Maximoff had disappeared without a trace and left no one worse for wear after defeating an unknown threat.

The graveyard was not maintained in the hostage situation. Overgrown and some older stones beginning to degrade from age and lack of care, dead and wilted flowers not cleared or replaced with new ones by thoughtful visitors.

You trudged through it all and for once you could not ignore the agony in your neck. It was allowing the pain of the physical or the pain of your heart — and you didn’t think you had it in you to feel anything but the inclosed walls you built for yourself.

You kneel onto your knees once you reach the matching headstones. Moss was starting to grow on the edges and inside the grooves — but you let it stay. You started pulling out the decayed flowers from the in-ground flower holder, tossing them aside and dusting off the area.

“Still so attached to the past,” a husky voice mused in no one direction. Your head jerked up and you began to look around, palm resting on your father’s headstone for support. A cheerless — but darkly amused — laugh. “You tend to it like a garden or a herd of sheep. Maintaining its needs and working on it like it’s keeping you afloat.”

You used your free hand to rub your forehead. You couldn’t see anything — the voice was clear as day and that is what had you spinning.

“Angel with stone wings, angel with no reach,” the sultry lilt continued. Your eyes locked onto the damp statue of an angel feet away, eyes echoing endless depths of nothingness.

You forced your eyes back to the graves. Your hands were shaking as you continued to clear them, hands aggressively tugging the weeds from around the stone.

“Oh sure, ignore me. That’s worked out for you just as much as burning your leash off has.”

“This is a figment,” you responded out loud.

Large, aged oak trees swayed angrily around you in turn and howling winds scraped against your skin. You needed to make sure of it — ground yourself before you lost yourself in the delusion.

Your knuckles slammed into hard stone, pressing until they turned white and stung from the impact. Your breathing was heavy and your ribcage felt like it was being grabbed from the top of your spine and pulled backwards.

“You really thought that your little magic trick could defy the sigil of Death, angel?” You could imagine her face. Mocking, smirking with full teeth and eyes gleaming with predatory intent.

She wasn’t here.

And then it felt like you had a rope thrown around your throat so tight that you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. The force of it sent you sailing onto your back, feet kicking, gasps sounding out into empty air.

Your hands flail upward in animalistic instinct, clawing at your neck.

Nothing was there. Nothing was there. You opened your mouth more, to breath, to scream, to —

The pressure left as quickly as it was there. You turned over and dug your fingernails into the damp ground, getting into your knees and breathing in as much air as your lungs would allow.

A billow of green and black took up your line of sight as your vision began to clear. It decreased its length toward you with lazy speed and only stopped when you were inches from the fabric.

The figure crouched and a cold hand took your jaw to tilt your head up. Your stomach became a pit of liquid when you saw exactly who it was above you — and she was no figment.

“Hello, angel. Thank you for walking into my trap. I didn’t want to have to hunt you down.”

1953

You slam on Rio’s front door despite the crudeness of it. It was cold and your tears were freezing over on your cheeks. You were numb and you needed . . . Comfort. Something. Anything.

The door opened almost immediately to your best friend. She had a lazy smile that quickly fell once she saw you.

“Angel,” she offered a soft crow, “what happened? It’s dark out and you should be at home right now."

Your throat bobbed and you manage to cup your mouth before a loud, ugly sob can escape and wake the entire neighborhood. "Oh, God, Rio."

Now her eyes flickered with alarm. Dark swirls of it as she stepped forward and immedately wrapped two arms around your shoulders and tucked you close. "Let’s get you inside. Come on.”

Her voice soothed you as she guided you into her home and you remained unaware of the malice that crossed her features as she glanced outside at the street for any sign of threat before closing the door.

She sat you on her couch in front of her television. She was watching John Daly discussing the news on the black and white set with his stoic professionalism.

“Do you want a glass of water? Ginger ale?” Rio questioned and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You glanced upward at her. Your fingers twisted into your dress and you crossed your ankles, pressing them into the couch as you sat up straight and stiff.

“Yes please, if it’s no trouble,” you murmured.

“I wouldn’t have offered if it was.” You ignored the odd quip, having gotten used to Rio’s strange ways by now. Most of your neighbors wives’ — when you met for the monthly update while husbands drank and played cars — found her to be much to odd for comfort.

You didn’t mind. She wasn’t nosy like the other women were and didn’t have the tendency to berate you about how you iced your cookies or strung your laundry on the line when laundry day came. She took little interest in petty gossip and didn’t prod for details about why no children came to fruition within your marriage.

Perhaps that is what drew you to the long-haired widow while the others felt repelled by her.

Your brain was lost in this forest of thick fog and thoughtless wander so deep that you jumped when a cold glass was brushed against the back of your clenched hands.

Rio said nothing about it; she simply waited until she was satisfied that your water was safely in hand before sitting down in the chair next to the television. She reached over and twisted the dial until it flickered off.

“What happened?” she asked plainly, picking something off of her finely fitted pants. Waisted pants today that ended at her ankles, fitting her loosely. Some days she wore styles that mothers would roll in their graves over — a man’s wear.

Today she decided on a more fashionable approach in women’s attire, it seemed. The pants were dark blue in color with a cream long sleeved shirt tucked in.

You tried to focus on her question, but answering it meant you had to tell her in the first place. In doing that — in doing that you would be left in a situation where you could break down completely.

“Hey.”

She was next to you as if by magic. Her hand rested on your knee lightly. Her hand was cold. Anytime you were together she always seemed to be cold . . .

Your mind started melting into itself again but a finger directed your chin to meet Rio’s intense gaze. It was a gentle gesture, but also a command. One of her eyebrows was raised questioningly.

“Angel,” she says, a low noise in her throat, “I can’t help if you won’t tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Your fingers curled as tight as the glass would allow, as tight as your grip could be. “My husband,” you started, a stuttering whisper fading after it. You couldn’t bear to finish.

Her features remained unchanged, but her head tilted. She let her finger brush away from your chin as she moved that hand over yours on the glass.

“What about him?” she asked.

“He’s — the factory owner called, you see. Told me I had to get to the hospital as quickly as I could.”

It was a terrible, bloody mess. They didn’t let you back into the room to see him because of the severity and instead had her wait until the doctor could come and speak with her privately.

You weren’t in tears at all — the nurses had commented. You were being very brave. You must be so scared.

You could only nod at them, smile shakily maybe.

You did cry when they asked you to sit down to tell you that he did not survive their attempt at surgery. It was a machine incident, they said. It broke down during use and your husband was the one on the line during the process.

You sobbed like a stricken wife, now widowed and left by herself. The nurses came to comfort you, offer tissues and take you somewhere quiet.

You weren’t devastated.

You were so relieved.

You felt like you would go home that night and not have to worry about if doing the dishes would be what set him off.

You could make a meal and not sit in a silence that you feared ended in another bruise to cover up for a few weeks.

Your husband was never good at cleaning up his messes. That’s what you were there for. That’s what his lack of complaints at the extra makeup in your grocery bags meant.

“He’s dead,” you choked out loud for the first time. “He had an accident . . . And . . .”

“Hm, I see.” Rio did something else and tucked you close into her side. She started stroking your hair and you took on the comfort even if you weren’t used to it. “It saddens me to see you so upset.”

Over him, she didn’t add. She didn’t need to with her tone.

“It’s just . . . Oh, you may find me very crass if I tell you what’s been heavy on my heart.”

Rio grasped your chin firmly and quickly, forcing you to meet her eyes. Her lips were thinned and she said with a steady, stern tone, “I could never think you crass. We are both outcasts in our own way in this world we’ve been born into. Whatever you tell me will change what I think of you — would you like me to swear it?” She paused. “On your God?”

You pulled back briefly, but her hand went with your tug. She had a tight grasp on your chin and wasn’t letting go, determined to keep your attention.

“My God?” you echoed, visible confusion coating your features.

She didn’t give you a response. Perhaps she felt as though she had been clear enough even if you felt entirely puzzled.

She tapped your cheek with her index finger. “Admit to me your heart’s truths, angel.”

The sick feeling in your stomach — the way you liked how she spoke to you, touched you . . .

Her touch suddenly felt like the hottest flames and you snapped out of the foggy daze. You were too close, she was too near. Everything about this broke the law of nature.

“I’m glad he’s dead.” Your mouth snapped shut and she allowed you to jerk away from her grasp to the other end of the couch. You hadn’t . . .

Why did you say that.

Rio’s lips were painted black today. An unusual color to decide on and very much not within the fashion of today. Your catalogues and magazines always pointed at which colors to lean into and which to avoid. Black lipstick was hard to find and it was often discouraged; it was seen as unappealing and unapproachable.

Rio wore it like she owned it and you hated that you seemed to tingle and grow hot in ways your husband was unable to do.

She tapped her chin with her nails, lips quirking into a small smirk. “Oh, my my. A wife who grieves not for the loss of her dear husband — her protector in life and guardian . . . But perhaps the comfortable lifestyle he provides?”

Your lips trembled. “How dare you,” you whispered, flushing from the neck up from the shame. She was right. She was right and you hated it. “That’s so mean to . . .”

“Stop with the act, angel.” Rio leaned back into the cushions, one leg crossing over the other. “Own how you feel for once. Take that relief and dig deep — see what else you’ll feel.”

The water glass had grown slippery in your palms. Either from how sweaty you got or from the melting ice. You were glad for the cold it provided, to keep you from floating away.

You sipped at it in quiet and refused to talk to her. Childish, perhaps. But what you couldn’t do right now was face what she was shoving in front of you: that you feared for your comforts as creaturely as they may be. You were raised to be a housewife and your parents didn’t know how to encourage much else.

You weren’t an educated woman — and didn’t have the money to become one.

“You’re depressing me,” Rio stated, slapping her hands on her knees. You jumped. Her head tilted low and she regarded you with something that should have sent you running, “I’ll keep you safe and pampered, angel. Sell your home, move into mine. I have three extra rooms. I could use a woman’s touch.”

“You’re a woman.”

A feline grin was your first reply. Then, “A working one.”

You supposed you could have realized that in the time she’s been around. No husband, widowed — how else would she have managed on her own without?

“It would . . . Isn’t it rather odd to have two women together? Especially one as a housewife?”

“We’re widowed, angel,” Rio reminded her as she removed the empty glass from your hand and set it on the coffee table. “Gossip will see a sad woman who need comfort from another woman who knows what it feels like. You will be truly devastated, simply unable to recover normally.”

You licked your lips and glanced around. It was darker in certain corners and the living room lacked color. “. . . Everything has a fine coat of dust,” you mumbled.

Rio laughed, standing and pulling you with her. She leaned forward and for a moment you held your breath, scared . . . Perhaps maybe filled with anticipation, as she did. Soft lips brushed your cheek.

“It’s a very good thing I just found myself a housewife to fix that.”

2024

The ache was gone — you could come to understand that as feeble awareness started to come to you in bloated masses.

Your body felt heavy and as though it had been pressed through your mother’s clothes wringer. Should you open your eyes? Would that even matter right now if all you could do was lay there and try not to vomit?

A sudden wave of pleasure that seemed to hurt coursed through you, and you let out a garbled moan as your body lifted and your hand frantically reached down to find the cause.

A soft, breathy chuckle greeted you against your wet pussy as your hand messily gripped hair and pushed the figure against you instead of pulling away.

“Mph.” Rio. It was Rio — she was — you ground your face down as her tongue delved deeper rather than pulling out of you to speak to you. You kept your eyes screwed shut — not wanting to see her but chasing that high she was making you seek out.

Her sharp nails gripped your bare ass and squeezed, nose rubbing purposefully into your clit as she used your body like an old instrument she pulled out of the closet.

It had been so fucking long and yet she knew you so goddamn well. Like it hasn’t been damn near seventy years and she hasn’t collared you with her magic and trapped you again.

With more force and anger driving you, you rode her face harder, knowing Death needn’t breath and how too entirely much she enjoyed the goddamn desperation she could soak up from you.

It flipped like a switch. One moment you’re angry and chasing something that you don’t want and the next you’re clawing at the brink of your orgasm like it was being veered over the edge of a cliff for years.

You cursed and kicked, but Rio saw the entire thing through. Only when your shivers eased and grip loosened did she come up for uneeded air, smug and eyes twinkling.

“Welcome home, angel.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you breathed, shoving her away with a shaky foot and sitting up on your thighs.

Then she was behind you, leaning over your shoulder with a weighted hand on the back of your neck. “I am going to enjoy seeing you try.”

Rio and reader will return in Part Two

PART TWO

#rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #agatha all along #dark fic

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gorbo-longstocking · 2 days ago

Text

Do Not Blame the Sea | Chapter 3

Pairing: Emperor Geta/Reader, Emperor Caracalla/Reader

Summary: As the new imperial physician, your first order of business if to give the emperors a general checkup.

Tags: Medical inaccuracies, various threats to your health and safety, poor ancient measurements conversions, I think that’s it???

Word Count: 4.5k Words

Read on AO3

Part One. Part Two.

As the emperor’s personal physician, your first order of business was a general checkup. Despite your terror, you had managed to insist on it, even against both twins’ frustrated protests. It was important that you got a good profile of their health before anything else so you had a baseline understanding of what they would need. That was what you managed to say through stuttering Latin, far more broken than normal due to your nerves. Thankfully, that seemed to amuse Caracalla enough to agree, Geta following close behind. Possibly to indulge his brother, if you had to guess.

Or, given the accusatory glares he gave you when he thought your back was turned, to be there in case you made an attempt on Caracalla’s life. Maybe it was a bit of both. You weren’t a psychiatrist, though you had, at the very least, a bare bones understanding of the field. Enough to try and understand these men in all their eccentricities.

Before that, however, a few praetorians insisted on not only patting you down for weapons, but searching your bag for any suspicious materials. General procedure, they informed you. In a separate room from the emperors, who waited just beyond an open archway, you, Aelius, and Marianus were dutifully frisked with all the care and attention of a donkey. It wasn’t that the praetorians weren’t thorough, quite the opposite actually, it was the fact that they weren’t gentle in the slightest. Half of your belongings were strewn about the room. Even your underwear was being manhandled in search of any hidden poisons. An embarrassed flush darkened your cheeks when a pair of boxers were unceremoniously tossed over a guard's shoulder into a pile with your other clothes.

“Any weapons, medicus?” One guard asked with a single stern eyebrow arched.

You cast an awkward glance at Marianus. Lying to him was one thing, lying to the emperor’s personal guard was another. “Yes. In the small right pocket there are weapons of self-defense. Be careful. One causes temporary blindness and the other debilitating pain. None are fatal, however.”

The hair on the back of your neck stood up under Marianus’ scathing glare. With an apologetic smile, you gave him a small shrug, only for his frown to deepen.

“You lied to me,” Was all he said, and you grimaced. He didn’t sound pleased at all, however, that was a conversation for another time. For now, you turned your attention back on the brutal search through your dufflebag as you fought the urge to reach out everytime a guard handled one of your belongings.

The praetorian eyed your pepper spray and your taser with curiosity. When he pressed the button on the side of the taser electricity crackled loudly, causing him to drop the device in surprise. It clattered to the ground, but thankfully didn’t break. More cautious now, he looked like he wanted to ask what that was before seemingly thinking better of it as he picked up the taser between his thumb and forefinger. He held it far from his body and dropped it on the pile of confiscated materials. At the top of that pile was your beloved ibuprofen. It didn’t bother you too much, all you had to do was prove it wasn't poison by taking one yourself, like with Marianus. For now, you focused on getting your hands on the few medical supplies you had so you could properly do your checkup.

“I require a few items for my inspection of the emperors’ health,” You managed to say.

The head praetorian turned sharply on his heel, his hands tucked behind his back. “And that would be?”

“That—” You pointed to the sphygmomanometer “— And those.” Then, you pointed to the stethoscope and the Taylor's hammer. When an item you had completely forgotten you packed caught your eye, you let out a delighted gasp. There, next to the small flashlight — the next item you were going to ask for — was an old-school mercury thermometer. “Those as well!”

His mistrust was palpable. Still, he handed you each item, filling your arms with the delicate supplies. While it was difficult to juggle it all, you managed, teetering slightly on your feet as the weight of it all changed your center of gravity. You gave the head praetorian a small nod, then one of farewell to Aelius, who looked nervous, and the still fuming Marianus. Before you could enter the room the emperors awaited you in, the head praetorian leaned down, his breath hot against the side of your face.

“Me and five other men will be in this room on the Caesarēs orders. Try anything, and you will be dead before you can beg for mercy.”

“I— I understand,” You managed, your knees locking for a moment in your fear.

You could count on one hand the amount of times you had been threatened in your entire life. A majority of those have happened in this damnable dream.

After a deep, steadying breath, you managed to take the first steps into what appeared to be an ornate clinic. Intricate murals lined two walls and the ceilings, each one featuring the Roman god of medicine, Asclepius. Vivid shades of blues and golds decorated each one, specifically the one on the ceiling, depicting Asclepius descending from the clouds to care for the sick and injured. You couldn’t keep the awe off your face, your neck craned upwards in order to take in as much of the mural as you could.

A harsh snap of Geta’s fingers drew your attention. He stood next to the bored Caracalla, who was busy leaning against the wall. Geta’s irritation was palpable. “Cease your staring and begin your examination. We do not have all night.”

“Right, my apologies.” You trotted over to the emperors, careful to keep any of your supplies from toppling over. Once you reached the desk they were standing near, you dumped the load in your arms onto the wooden surface. Without looking at either of them, you began to sort through what you had, placing them in the order that you would use, from the first, to the last.

Caracalla was intrigued for only a second before he turned his attention elsewhere, but Geta studied what you had brought with a critical eye. Specifically, the sphygmomanometer and the stethoscope.

“What is all of this?”

You hummed and picked up what appeared to be a small wooden book. When you flipped it open, you realized it was a blank wax tablet for you to write in. That was good, that meant you didn’t have to brave Geta’s ire by requesting one. “My medical supplies. Before I do anything, I will tell both you and your brother what it does, and I will only continue onwards with your permission. That said—” Finally, you turned your gaze to both men “— I ask that you both cooperate to the best of your ability.”

Caracalla snickered meanly. “You have no right to ask anything of your emperors, Alga.”

The sound of your new nickname made your blink, but you took it, mostly, in stride. “I apologize, I only wish to help you.”

To your right, Geta let out a disbelieving snort. “If we demand you stop, you will stop, medicus. If you do not, I will make sure you never practice your craft again.”

Another threat. Your throat bobbed and your palms felt damp. While you didn’t appreciate it, you also knew you had no power here. All you could do was take it and pray that any minute signs of your irritation were taken as amusing rather than anything else.

“I understand.” It was all you could manage. After you wiped your sweaty hands on your borrowed tunic, you felt a bit steadier. Your tools were all spread out, in perfect order, and though you were somewhere wholly unfamiliar, all clinics were the same. This was a simple checkup. You wouldn’t be able to do all the tests you wanted to do, but you could manage the basics. “Who first, Caesarēs?”

Caracalla moved to step forward, only to be cut off by Geta. “I will go first, medicus.”

There was a suspicious glint in his dark eyes. You recognized just how little he trusted you. He would rather brave your routine examination first, perhaps in case you were to try anything, he would be the one to take the brunt of it rather than Caracalla. It would be admirable if it wasn’t so annoying.

“First of all, I will need to record your height and weight.” Curious, you gazed around the room. A few feet from the desk was an examination table made of marble, but nothing you recognized as a scale. You hummed and scratched at the side of your face as you spun in place.

Geta let out a scoff. “We already know our height and weight from our last physician.”

“How long ago was that?” While you would prefer to take the measurements yourself, until you figured out how to use the Ancient Roman equipment at your disposal, it would have to wait. However, Geta’s answer was your deciding factor on whether you were going to humiliate yourself by fumbling with one of the strange devices in the clinic, or if you would take the last physician’s word for it.

“Two weeks ago,” He answered.

You swallowed a sigh of relief. That was recent enough for you to copy those answers. For now. Picking up your wax tablet and your stylus, you were prepared to begin writing your notes. “Please tell me the information, Caesar.”

“I am two hundred and nineteen librae in weight and six and two twelfth pedes in height.” Upon hearing the anachronistic and unfamiliar measurements, you couldn’t keep the horror from your face. Geta was too busy trying to recall the information you requested to notice the split second expression, but Caracalla saw. His grin sharpened into something wolfish. “My brother is two hundred and twenty nine librae in weight and five and three fourths pedes in height.”

“Brother,” Caracalla said, his blue eyes boring into you. “I don’t think our medicus knows what you’re talking about.”

You were quick to respond, scrawling the emperors’ measurements onto the wax tablet in english. It was awkward using one for the first time, and you took care to write small so you didn’t run out of space. “I— I can convert to measurements I am more familiar with later. This will do.”

“I should hope so, medicus. No self respecting Roman would ever stoop so low to use a barbarian’s methods,” Geta snapped. “Learn the Roman way or none at all.”

Instead of responding, or even acknowledging the pleased glimmer in Caracalla’s eyes seeing you so cowed, you gestured to the examination table. “Please sit, Caesar.”

With a harsh mutter — something about your stupidity — Geta did as he was told, leaving Caracalla to meander on his own. He was growing bored, something that did not bode well for your medical supplies as he approached your perfectly curated hoard with an air of curiosity.

“Emperor Caracalla.” Careful not to touch him, your hand hovered behind his back in an effort to guide him away from your tools. Ones you couldn’t afford to replace considering where you were. “Surely, you must be hungry, and I am sure your brother is as well. Perhaps you could think of a snack to eat that someone can fetch for you.”

He blinked at you, his interest in your supplies momentarily forgotten. “Yes. Yes! Figs and wine.” He marched towards the door leading into the hall, poking his head out to bark, “You there! Bring me figs and wine!”

Now that Caracalla was sufficiently distracted — he had thrown himself on a nearby lectus, his leg jiggling excitedly as he waited for his snacks — you were able to focus on Geta. For a moment, you could have sworn he looked almost impressed, albeit disappointed that none of your belongings were broken, though it was gone too fast for you to be sure. He was reclining on the table rather than sitting on the edge of it, bordering on the ‘paint me like one of your French girls’ pose. Rich Romans seemed to have a great love for lounging.

“Sit on the edge, please,” You gently asked. A part of you worried he would react to even a small request explosively.

To your surprise, Geta merely sighed and obliged, albeit with the grace of a spoiled child. You grabbed your stethoscope and draped it around the back of your neck. It was easier to breathe now that you were going through the motions, though you doubted you would ever be fully relaxed in the presence of these men. Both of their eyes were on you, Geta’s almost wary, his eyes fixated on your stethoscope, while you only knew Caracalla was watching you because of the sense of dread creeping up your spine.

“Please remove the top half of your tunic, Caesar.”

Again, Geta complied despite acting like it was a monumental task you assigned him. With a grace that wasn’t usually prescribed to this particular motion, he slipped his arms through the collar of his ornate tunic and let it puddle at his waist.

Now that his top half was bare, you could take his heart rate unobstructed. Following that, you would listen to his lungs as he breathed, if only to cover all your bases. After sticking the earpieces in, you hovered the circular chest piece by his breast. “I will listen to your heart now. Count to ten and tell me once you have finished.”

You waited for him to nod before you began. Geta tensed when you pressed the end of the stethoscope to his skin and didn’t relax until you removed it, almost as if he were expecting it to hurt.

“Well, your resting heart rate is rather high.” A small smile tugged at your lips. “Either that is an issue we must work on or I make you nervous.”

Geta scoffed. “A man such as yourself could never make me nervous, not when I have a dozen of the praetorian guard waiting for my word to remove your head.”

Threat number three. Your smile fell and your eyebrow twitched. To hide your annoyance, you turned away to write the information regarding Geta’s heart rate on the wax tablet. When you faced him again, he was about to put his tunic back on.

“Not yet, Caesar. I must listen to your lungs.”

Geta glared and huffed, but, thankfully, listened. You wondered if it was only your status as a medicus that made him so pliant.

The rest of the exam went off without a hitch. Sort of. When you took his blood pressure with the sphygmomanometer, even with a warning that the cuff would be uncomfortable, he very nearly shrieked as it began to tighten around his upper arm. It took a lot of frantic explaining to Geta, a handful of praetorians, and a confused Caracalla what the device was meant to do. Geta only calmed when you promised to skip that part of Caracalla’s exam, only to be met with said man’s protests. Contrary to what Geta wanted — maybe because it was contrary to what Geta wanted — Caracalla insisted you take his blood pressure as well.

“I am not as easily frightened as my brother, Alga. I want to know just how tight you can make it,” He had said, leaving you both confused and bewildered by his interest.

After jotting down that, like his heart rate, Geta’s blood pressure was sky high — you would have to convince him to relax more, you wrote — using your flashlight to examine his ears and throat was met with shock. (“What kind of strange torch is that?” Caracalla had asked.) Again, after some minor explaining, you allowed Caracalla, who had grown tired of his figs and finished his wine, to play with it. Not that you wanted him to, but he had commanded that you let him. So, unfortunately, that left you with little choice.

Save for a canker sore on the inside of his cheek and his stress levels, Geta was perfectly healthy. At least from your cursory examination.

“Rinse your mouth with a mixture of salt dissolved in boiled water for the next few days. The sore will go away faster,” You informed Geta, your nose in the wax tablet as you reviewed your observations.

“And my humors?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

Ever since you were young, you were rather poor at hiding your emotions. Everything you felt would show clearly on your face, whether it be elation, or misery, or complete and utter frustration. A good example would be right now, when you froze like a deer in headlights at the mention of his humors. You had completely forgotten that the four humors were a widespread belief in both Rome and Greece when it came to medicine, and while you knew it was a bunch of nonsense, you also knew you would sound like an absolute quack if you said so. Especially to Geta and Caracalla, who held not only your life, but Aelius’ and Marianus’, in the palm of their hand. You had to be useful, you had to be smart, and most of all, you had to play along. When you looked up, you had to swallow your sigh of relief. Neither emperor noticed the mental hurdles you had jumped through considering that Caracalla was busy shining the flashlight in a very annoyed Geta’s eyes.

“Balanced, for the most part, Caesar,” You said after a moment. “I’m worried about your stress levels, I will work out a regimen for you to follow that will allow for more relaxation tonight.”

Geta jumped off the examination table to wrench the flashlight from Caracalla’s hands. Without looking at you, he held it out in your direction for you to take, muttering harshly to his brother low enough for you to not hear. Caracalla responded to whatever was said by setting his jaw and glaring up at his brother, fists clenched tight by his sides.

Awkward, you sidled close enough to Geta to pluck the flashlight from his fingers without touching him and set it with the rest of your supplies. The last thing you wanted to do was get in the middle of one of their fights. However, as the sun had set, you realized you didn’t have time to wait until it was over. Cursing your lack of self preservation, you cleared your throat.

“Emperor Caracalla, it is your turn.”

Caracalla whirled to face you, lips pulled back in a snarl. “Either he is gone or you are gone, I do not care which!”

Somehow, you managed to remain calm. “I would prefer not to leave, Caesar, although I can reschedule your physical examination for another day.”

“And waste away in here any longer than I already have?” Caracalla raged. His face was red, even under the layers of makeup he wore. “Get on with this nonsense, medicus! I am tired of waiting!”

“Please sit on the examination table and remove the top half of your tunic.”

Caracalla began to obey, far more willing than his brother, if only to spite him. Before he got far, Geta stopped him, his hand like a vice around his upper arm.

“… Can you not see I am trying to protect you?” Geta hissed, his voice loud enough for you to hear. You pretended as if you didn’t, your gaze fixated on a mural.

Caracalla looked offended, his hooked nose wrinkled. “What damage do you think that medicus could do to me?” Lower now, his words a harsh rasp. “Besides, what do you know about protecting?”

Whatever that meant, you knew a low blow when you saw it. Geta jerked back as if had been struck, his expression twisted into a sneer, while Caracalla merely seemed pleased that his insult landed. Without another word, Geta stormed out of the clinic, two praetorians hot on his heels from the adjourning room when they saw him pass, leaving you alone with his brother.

“He always does this,” Caracalla complained as he hopped onto the examination table and slipped his arms out of his tunic. He was far less graceful than his brother, almost wrestling with the fabric to get free of it. Once his torso was bare, you recognized he was a fair bit pudgier around the middle than Geta was. “He always acts like he knows best, that his way is the right way, and I must defer to him. I am emperor as much as he is, he has no right!”

You should stay out of it, you told yourself. Unfortunately, your mouth was too fast for your brain. “He seems worried about you.”

Caracalla tilted his chin to look down his nose at you, eyes narrowed into angry slits. “I did not ask for your opinion, Alga. Remember your tongue and you may keep it.”

It didn’t take much for you to keep quiet after threat number four. For some reason, it felt much more real coming from Caracalla rather than Geta. Probably because of Aelius’ warnings from the night before that Caracalla found a sadistic pleasure in causing harm to others. Even if they were rumors, it was still a good idea to give them the weight they deserved, especially when you were at the subject’s mercy.

Caracalla’s physical exam went similarly to Geta’s. Except, instead of yelling when the sphygmomanometer tightened around his arm, Caracalla let out a delighted giggle, the only sign of his improving temper. He had even asked if it could go tighter, to which you lied and told him no. His irritated disappointment confused you immensely.

He was mostly silent during the ordeal, yawning every so often as he flopped in the various positions you requested. It was obvious he was bored, and his frustration with Geta mingled with annoyance for how long you were taking, which seemed like a deadly combination. Still, he was your patient and you intended to be thorough. There was no point in giving him half-assed care simply because of your own anxiety. So long as you didn’t harm either emperor, Aelius and Marianus would be safe. Since it was your own life on the line as you studied Caracalla, you decided that doing your job correctly was worth more than anything else.

Unlike Geta, while his heart rate and blood pressure were within normal ranges, his lymph nodes were swollen and there was obvious mucus in his lungs. You could hear the rattle in each breath when you pressed your stethoscope to his diaphragm. Along with that, he had a minor fever, still under hundred degrees fahrenheit, but enough to make you tut under your breath.

“You’re sick,” You said bluntly as you began to gather your supplies in a neat pile. One of the praetorians had given you back your duffle bag some time ago, the items they deemed safe for you to keep stuffed haphazardly inside. Later tonight, while you were working on a regimen for Geta and Caracalla, you would organize it a bit more.

Caracalla’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “And if I am?”

“That means you will need different treatments than your brother.” With a small hum, you examined his irritated fidgeting. He seemed desperate to be anywhere but here. So bored, he could die. “Tomorrow, I will need you to list out your symptoms. It seems minor…” More to yourself, you mumbled, “Perhaps allergies.”

At the knowledge he would have to come back tomorrow, Caracalla slumped further on the examination table. You couldn’t help the small upwards quirk of your lips.

“It will be faster than today, no more than a quick conversation,” You assured him.

Caracalla turned his eyes on you, an edge of warning in his tone. “Do not lie to me, medicus. I don’t tolerate liars.”

You swallowed hard, shuffling in place. “It is no lie.”

“Tomorrow then,” Caracalla said, almost in a miserable whine. His mood seemed to flip on a dime, which would be amusing if it wasn’t so nerve wracking. After a moment, he grumbled, “I assume you will be telling my brother that I am ill?”

You looked up from your wax tablet with a confused noise rumbling in the back of your throat. “No. Why would you think I would?”

“The other physicians told Geta everything. It nearly drove me mad!”

You blinked. The Hippocratic Oath existed at this point in time, you knew that. What you didn’t understand was why the emperor’s former physicians so crudely spit in the face of one of the most important tenants. Well, at least to you it was. Thinking about it, the only threat that would make you tell anyone confidential information about one of your patients would be to someone else’s life.

You managed to crack what was intended to be a reassuring smile. “What I learn about you and what you tell me within this clinic, I will share with no one, not even your brother.”

Caracalla narrowed his eyes. “I want you to swear on your life.”

A rhyme from your childhood was the first thing that came to mind. You weren’t sure if it would translate well to Latin, but perhaps the morbidity of it would get him to laugh. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.”

After what felt like centuries of anger and boredom, Caracalla laughed, though it wasn’t more than a shrill snort. It wasn’t a friendly sound either, far more at your expense than you would like. However, beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least he wasn’t glaring at you anymore. “A needle in your eye, medicus? Now that would be a sight.”

“I do not think I would be seeing very much if I were to break that promise.”

Caracalla laughed again, a high-pitched bark, as he hopped down from the examination table and started out of the room. Halfway there, he realized his torso was still exposed and he, once again, struggled to get his arms through the sleeves of his tunic. “No, you would not, Alga.” Another giggle bubbled from between his lips. “I would stick the needle in both your eyes myself.”

A shiver shot up your spine at the thought. Despite that, you tried to smile at him. “See you tomorrow, Caesar.”

Before he turned into the hall, the rest of the praetorian starting behind him, he gave you a dismissive wave. “Perhaps!”

With that, he was gone, leaving you alone with his half-eaten figs, empty cup of wine, and some measurements to convert.

God… When would this dream end?

A/N: This one was shorter than usual, but if I went in depth in the checkups, we would be here all damn day. I pray Geta and Caracalla are in character, I’m having trouble with Caracalla’s dialogue in particular. Lays down on the floor. Plus, Caracalla not having syphilis in this fic and actually being lucid is weird to write. I constantly feel like he’s too… something??? I dunno. Mannnnn. It feels weird having them listen to someone they very obviously think little of, but you are a physician, which results in some modicum of respect. Enough for them to follow simple instructions in the clinic. Emphasis on in the clinic.

Also if my conversions of pounds to librae and feet to pedes is wrong, I’m sorry 😭😭😭 I’m so bad at math!!! I was fighting for my LIFE trying to convert.

Anyway, I sure hope that promise doesnt cause any issues. I’m sure Geta will take being denied access to his brother’s health with grace and decorum. He definitely won’t start tweaking the fuck out.

As usual, thank you for reading!! Feedback would be much appreciated <33 Hugs you, bye!

Taglist: @snazzynacho @t6gse370

#emperor geta x reader #emperor caracalla x reader #gladiator x reader #gladiator ii x reader #emperor geta #emperor caracalla

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robiinurheart33 · 1 day ago

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Few months into their relationship, stone and robotnik waking up together.

Ivo never really cared for warmth in his bed, until he met stone.

Suddenly, everything in his life had more meaning, more colour. Everything in his life, he had stone there right beside him. Like he’s been there all his life.

Where was he all his life?

In any case, they were together now. Ivo supposed that was all that mattered. Tangled up in his bed, stone huffing breaths against his neck. That was another thing, he noted.

He hates physical affection. Any and all kind. It wasn’t like his agent was spared of that treatment. The slightest touch or brush against his coat had him screaming his face red. He stopped for a while after that. Then…. Then what? What has happened? One day robotnik had seen stone placing a hand on his arm, and it didn’t itch. It didn’t feel foreign, invasive. So he had allowed it. Just this once, he thought. Elevated heart rate. Just this once. Pupils dialating. Just this once. Sweating. Just this once.

Once came one too many times, and Ivo did not mind it. Not at all. And that scared him. He started to crave for his touch more and more, and almost like stone had read his mind, he had gifted it to him.

A squeeze on the neck, a brush of shoulders, a gentle hold of his elbow. It melted Ivo’s mind, the buzzing in his veins never stopping. In fact, it became more, and more. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop, could never stop. His head was always thinking, and stone slowed it down, turned it to slush. He made him second guess every word, stumble over his feet, make his heart skip a beat.

Stone was turning him human.

Ivo wouldn’t like to dwell on the little issues like when they first fell into bed together, kissed, exchanging words that could never have been said in the daylight. But it felt good. It felt right. It felt so unbearably human, exposing himself like this. But despite how utterly human he felt, Stone still worshipped him like he was the stars in the sky. And who is the doctor to stop him?

“Ivo..” Ivo, Ivo, Ivo. Stone likes to pray. He does not believe in a god.

“Stone.” Ivo’s more than happy to fill that role.

His agent tightens his arm around his waist, taking a deep breath from his neck.

“Mornin’.”

Ivo combs his fingers through his hair, settling his hand at the base of his skull, tugging on the strands lightly.

Stone hums, tilting his head up, eyes squinting still.

“Doctor?”

“Call me Ivo.” He whispers, patting the back of his head. “Just Ivo when we’re like this.” Stone complies, leaning into his touch and looking like a cat who got the cream.

“Okay, Ivo.” He grins. The doctor’s stone cold heart skips a beat, and his ears tingle. He’s gonna wear that out fast, he thinks with a smirk and a huff.

They lean in and crash together, orbits fitting perfectly, warmth shared and legs tangled under the futon. Maybe he craved more things than he thought he would. He’s okay to let Stone teach him in that department.

#little Drabble on them #hehe they make me sick #i loveeeee physical affection please do expect more in the future #physical affection save me please #stobotnik #robs ramblings #agent stone #ivo robotnik

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verstappenf1lecccc · 1 day ago

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Hey p here!!! 👋🏻 Just as we talk, I want a fic about Toto Wolff x wife reader who always healthy/happy go lucky person and suddenly she's ill. You can't decide what it is. Include there drivers/anyone in the sports reaction. Like they're trying to help her, watching out for her. She's their friend/mother figure, of course they're worried. But being her, she just deals with humour even though she's sick. And can you include Jack? That boy has my heart. Even though this must be heartbreaking for him at such a young age, I think it's time for some angst, gut wrenching story that traumatize us all😃 And lastly how everyone cope with it. Add anything you want to. Thanks!!! :))) Appreciate it❤️❤️

With prompts:

1) "After all this time?” “Yes. I still do"

2) "My sweet and brave little munchkin."

3) "Tick tock, the clock is ticking"

4) "I thought we had more time"

Slipping through my fingers

there are moments in life that define everything, moments that still your world to a complete standstill people often assume that these moments are of joy or happiness. unfortunately for toto his moments caught a rotten streak and his world was never going to be the same ever again.

the day toto met her was a day full of surprises for both of them.

y/n had just recently made the decision to switch up her major from nursing towards mass media and journalism. it was a switch that raised a lot of eyebrows and concern from her family yet they supported her nonetheless, everyone knew how talented she was and knew she’d get a job eventually. What they didn’t know was along with the job she’d catch the attention of a rather tall man.

toto was having a rather eventful day, both of his star drivers had crashed into each other on lap one giving his arch nemesis horner his day in the sun with his prodigy max verstappen winning the race only to rub salt in his raw open wounds. he should have signed him instead of nico toto thought as he stomped through the media pen only to be bombared with around a hundred reporters eagerly waiting to see if the team principal was going to have another one of his infamous anger blowouts. alas to them a young female reporters questions had caught the interest of Toto.

Her question was clear cut no glazing no unnecessary flattery to grab his attention, all she’d ask him was if he’s going to fire someone on the pit wall for the strategies today. it was a bold question not one that reportes like to use since it ends up in court cases but she really didn’t care. It was her first few races and she wanted to make a name for herself and boy did she.

Toto’s response was curt and dismissive but she didn’t budge one bit, she was persistent and that caught Toto’s attention.

ladies and gentlemen this was the first moment in Toto’s life that had stopped the world for him.

the moment he looked into her eyes he felt everything was irrelevant. He didn’t care that both silver arrows were a pile of silver dust all that was captivating to him was the brown tinge in her hazel eyes. toto wanted to stare into them forever, and perhaps god was smiling straight down on them and decided to seal both their fates together.

and so it started.

their infamous courtship.

Now for a team principal speaking to people was almost second nature but when it came to her toto was a blubbering mess always leaving the conversation wanting to speak more, it was rather funny towards the other team principals. he was acting like a teenager with his first crush.

things weren’t all that easy for her too, each interaction with toto outside of business had her craving him more and more, she chuckled at his faint attempts to woo her and get her lunches. she too had a crush on him and it was only getting stronger.

the turning point in their relationship was the after party at the Abu Dhabi Grabd Prix, the long season was finally over and the celebrations had started. Toto had eagerly invited her and was hoping praying dying to see her come, unfortunately he wasn’t the only one who was waiting to see her, amongst his infatuation toto was as blind to how interested zak brown had also become towards her. he wasn’t often caught staring at her in places no man’s eyes had entitlement to. things were starting to get creepy but none of our two lovebirds had figured that out.

the party was in full swing when she had decided to show up, wrapping up her tasks with sky sports made her rather late but the look in Toto’s eyes when he had saw her was everything she had hoped and wanted. The man looked starstruck it was insane how whipped he was for her and they weren’t even together.

a couple of drinks and close dances later when she had excused herself to go to the ladies room was when calamity hit.

zak had his dirty gazes set on her ever since she had shown up, he knew toto wasn’t on guard whenever she was there and knew it was his time to try and get handsy with her.

right after walking out of the ladies room she was dragged into a corner and that’s when she felt small fat and stubby fingers trying to touch her. it felt humiliating disgusting and frankly made her want to bleach her skin. right before zak could cover her mouth and start with his actual plan she screamed as hard as she could hoping to get anyone’s attention oh how she regretted not taking up Toto’s offer to walk her to the restroom.

toto had wondered where she had ended up disappearing, was he being too much did she need a break from him?? he was overthinking when he heard her cries for help and in a second all the alcohol in his system had vanished. He leaped towards her cries and the scene startled him to his core, in a second zak was off her and his disgusting touch was replaced with the warm calm caressing of toto a man she was familiar with someone she knew.

the entire night was ruined in a split second, it wasn’t until toto had zak in a head lock that she’d regained her senses, seeing him so worked up over protecting her name and honour made her do what she did next.

the second toto was close by she kissed him, full on kissed him. it wasn’t short or messy it was full of reassurance of promise and of new beginnings.

that’s how the two souls collided.

oh and zak was given not one but multiple fractures and a hefty legal case to fight, toto didn’t play when it came to the ones who he loved.

the new couple relationship caused frenzy all over the internet and the paddock, no one really expected them to be a couple it didn’t make sense, out of everyone why did toto choose a journalist? Didn’t he know if they break up his whole life would be plastered onto the news.

Headlines like these made both of them chuckle, neither of them seeming to care, they were just happy to be with each other against all odds.

throughout the course of their relationship there were times where y/n had become sick, it often worried toto seeing how easily the common cold for her could become much serious, she always brushed his concerns away. it wasn’t until much later into their relationship when toto started noticing more and more health concerns for his now fiancé.

the proposal had taken place in Iceland she’d always loved it there especially the black sand beach and how beautifully it contrasted against the bright white snow, often times she’d dreamed of going there and toto made it a reality for them. she later joked that the beach and the snow represented each of them perfectly, Toto being the dark black beach that only softens in appearance in front of the snow. he’d got down on one knee at that exact spot uttering words of love and honesty. they had their vows at the exact same place. some things don’t change.

it was now 3 years into their marriage, toto had settled down and wasn’t all angry and violent like he used to be (ask the poor abused headsets) he was much calmer and level headed, that’s what happens when you marry the love of your life. he knew not to piss his wife off or worry her after all she was carrying his baby.

the pregnancy test was taken after she had thrown up half her body weight, toto wasn’t around he infact was in austria for the Grand Prix, she had excused herself from it with dumb excuses, Toto ever the gentleman knew not to push it and let her have some space.

In a matter of seconds their world’s axis shifted.

the pregnancy test came as a positive surprise, neither of them had discussed having children but they weren’t against the idea, when toto came back to his wife pale and heaving beside the toilet he knew what was going on, he whisked her off her feet and kissed her so strongly that you might think the man was off to war.

her pregnancy came with a price thou, a huge price for her to pay. y/n was anaemic her body didn’t have enough red blood cells and that’s why she could faint at the drop of a hat.

the couple had been shopping during the off season for the arrival of their little baby, unfortunately fans and paparazzi got a hold of their location resulting in a rather ugly swarm of cameras and people. the noise alone alerted Toto that their quiet evening had come to an end, in a rush to protect his wife and unborn child Toto’s steps where hastened and elongated, unfortunately his wife simply couldn’t keep up and fell victim to one of her fainting spells the camera and the noises alongside the amount of people did nothing to help her and so she collapsed.

the faint thud would haunt Toto forever, his whole world crumbled when he heard it, instantly he rushed towards her only to find her knocked out cold, the rush to the hospital has been the longest wait of his life.

he swore then and there that he wouldn’t ever put her or their child in such a situation.

luckily both mother and baby were okay, when they got home later that night she had fallen asleep unknown to the storm that was brewing within her husband.

Toto wasn’t a very emotionally available man, he preferred to deal with his emotions privately or not at all if possible but ever since meeting her he’s been more open towards showing love and care but the one thing he won’t show is fear.

Torger Christian Wolff was afraid.

he’d been having these vivid dreams of his wife dying and leaving him and their six year old son alone forever, it’s been haunting him ever since her fall.

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hannieehaee · 4 hours ago

Text

CREEP

18+ / mdi

summary: jungkook's in love. finally, after years of waiting for that perfect romance, he finds himself utterly infatuated with the perfect girl. too bad she has no idea who he is. but it's okay, he knows enough about you for the two of you, and he'll make sure to work his way into your life.

content: stalker!jungkook, clueless!reader, lowkey inspired by you from netflix, stalking, reader is surveilled by jk without her permission, smut, afab reader, masturbation (both m and f receiving), jk watches her have sex and masturbating, penetrative sex, creampie, finger sucking, etc.

wc: 10.2k

a/n: my first sort of dark toxic fanfic everyone say yay!!! also please do not read if these themes offend you thank youuuu

masterlist

You'd gone on another date tonight.

This was the fifth one this month.

Always a different guy. Jungkook had been keeping count.

It was hard to not let it get to him. Sure, he was aware that you didn't owe him anything, and much less did he feel as if he held any sort of ownership over you, bu the more men he beheld in your presence, the less patience he had.

Jungkook knew you to be a smart girl. You were a well put-together adult, an incredibly confident and intelligent woman who needed no protection from anyone. It was one of the many things that made him fall for you. It was just the decisions you took in regard to your love life that left Jungkook bothered.

He tried not to judge you, truly he did, but seeing you go from one idiot to another pained him. Intimately so. While aware that you needed to get all these idiots out of your system, Jungkook just wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back as he watched you with this week's respective idiotic bachelor.

This time around, it was some idiot named Liam.

To the naked eye, he might've been a good pick — which is why you'd even given him the time of day, Jungkook assumed. He was tall, — but Jungkook was taller — he was fit, — but Jungkiok fitter — he had okay money — except it was none compared to Jungkook — he had everything the average woman would look for in a man. Truly, Jungkook could not blame you for thinking this might be the right guy.

But, at the same time, you sometimes had the tendency to rush things. Or at least that was what Jungkook had noticed after the past few months of watching you.

The same had happened with Liam.

After messaging for about a week, you'd found yourself at a late night date.

It was the usual. Dinner, walk around a nearby park, and finalizing with a solicitous invitation to your apartment. That much was fine with Jungkook. He didn't care (well, he very much did). A man vying for your affections was not shocking to him. You were perfect. Jungkook was certain of it.

It was what happened behind closed doors that churned his insides out.

Maybe it had been a bad idea when Jungkook decided to install a camera in your apartment, but he couldn't help himself. It had seemed inviting at the time. You had been gone on a family vacation for a week, leaving your place completely vacant, too inviting for him to not take the chance to look around.

And look around, he did.

Out of all the time in which he'd known you, that had been the best day of all. Getting to be in an environment tailored to you and by you had been heaven.

He laid on your bed, letting himself be engulfed by the scent of your shampoo on your pillow. He'd chuckled at all the adorable plushies scattered throughout your place. He'd installed his cameras, ensuring the ability to supervise in case the occasion were to come up.

But his most favorite had been the souvenirs he'd taken with him. The pretty lace set he'd taken as a memento to ensure he had a little piece of you with him at all times.

Currently, as he went over today's events whilst in bed, that pretty set sat on his pillow — on the side of the bed he decided would be yours as soon as he made you his ...

Going back to more pressing matters. That idiot, Liam.

God, even thinking about how the night had ended made him angry. How did you pick these guys? Well, Jungkook knew the how (usually some shitty dating app), but he just couldn't understand the why.

Your dinner had been subpar at best. Liam had picked the shittiest 'fancy' restaurant available. He had ordered for you (whilst picking the cheapest options available), hadn't even bothered to buy you quality wine, and took a ten-minute bathroom break halfway through dinner — which he had spent on some stupid phone call to a buddy of his. Talk about priorities.

Going back home, he parked too far from your apartment for some stupid reason or other, choosing to walk you under a thinly-veiled pretense to make sure you arrived home safely. Instead, he went home with you despite not deserving such privilege.

This time around, Jungkook could tell that you weren't too enthusiastic to allow him in, but it seemed ritualistic to you by now. He argued that maybe you wanted at least one thing to come out of the date, even if that was just some meaningless sex.

Except that the sex had been even worse than anything that came prior.

At first, Jungkook felt morally ambiguous as he watched the live feed of the camera he'd installed in your apartment, but considering that he had already followed you to your date (under disguise, of course), this wasn't all that bad.

The foreplay had been nonexistent (his first mistake, Jungkook was very well aware), leaving you dissatisfied before it all even began. Barely wet and not stimulated at all, you laid there, letting that undeserving idiot do a novice's job at fingering you. Jungkook caught onto the winces on your face as the dumbass worked you with zero finesse. It was a complete disaster that left you just as dry as you'd been since walking through the door.

The worst part of all had been the actual sex itself. Jungkook was genuinely appalled at Liam's ability to get gradually worse as the night progressed.

For starters, you didn't cum. Jungkook would've been able to spot a fake orgasm from you from miles away. You gave a great performance, he had to admit. Had he been any other idiot (re: Liam), he might've believed you. But he knew all your tells. Despite how pretty you looked, how ruinous you sounded, he knew that you'd fabricated that scene to get Liam to stop trying to make you cum to no avail.

Liam, though, had the night of his life. Of this, Jungkook was sure. He needed no confirmation for it, but he received it in the form of many incoming messages you got the following morning. After kicking Liam out the previous night, — under the premise that you had work early the next morning (because you were far too nice to tell him to get fucked) — you awoke to messages from the idiot wondering when part two would come.

Jungkook scoffed at the messages, itching to respond but knowing that if he did, he'd give away that he'd hacked into your accounts. However, he was happy to see that you'd let him down, using one excuse or another as to why you shouldn't go on a second date.

This was the usual routine you followed.

Or at least in the past three months in which Jungkook had been watching you. But now things would be different.

Because Jungkook had finally had enough.

It was time for you to meet the love of your life.

Jungkook's decision to finally make his way into your life was inspired by a message exchange you'd had with your friend slightly prior to your escapade with that idiot.

You'd been frustrated, unwilling to continue with this stupid back and forth with guys who did not deserve you (your words, though Jungkook fully agreed). This was your last attempt, you'd sworn. You'd give up on dating sites from then on, thus giving up on dating in general, because, according to you, the current state of dating did not exist in real life. Romance was dead, you'd claimed, disheartened by how many failed talking stages you'd been through and by the amount of men disinterested in more than simple one-night stands.

So, Jungkook swore something to himself.

He swore that he'd be the man to change your mind. He'd let you exhaust yourself with worthless men and come swoop you off your feet.

For months, he'd prepared for this. Everything about you, he knew. If there was any man perfect for you, it was him.

He liked to think that he was your type already — tall, handsome, smart, financially intelligent, romantic. He had everything you wanted in a man. All he had to do now was swoop into your life and make his interest be known.

But there was a problem.

As much as Jungkook liked you, — and as much as he believed you'd like him back — he was scared. Among all his attributes was a shyness that appeared to only show up when it concerned you. There'd been various instances in which he'd been itching to meet you, to cut his research short and kneel before you, begging you to give him a chance. But this had proved impossible to him. It was one of the reasons as to why he hadn't just grown the balls to speak to you in the first place.

Under his logic, it was better to study you from afar. To learn everything about who he was sure would become the love of his life. Everything about you was perfect to him from the moment he saw you. He could not risk letting you get away; disappointing you by not being the man you needed.

So he watched you from afar. He learned what to do, what not to do.

By now, he knew everything he needed to know. He knew in which ways to impress you, in which ways to ensure he wouldn't drive you away. It was just his constant anxieties about meeting you that prevented him from approaching you sooner.

Though, technically, you'd already met.

It had been brief. He was sure you didn't even remember it. Yet it was a life-changing moment for him.

It had been his turn to do a coffee run at the firm he worked at. Despite holding an important position within the company, his department had been looking for a replacement assistant for a while, leaving the more menial tasks up to the higher ups (re: Jungkook and a few others).

Upon arriving at the nearest coffee shop, there you were.

Jungkook remembered every detail about you on that day. Your hair had been done the way you usually did it, but your lipstick had been a particular shade of red he'd been itching to see you wear again.

Speaking to you had been a feat. His eyes remained on the counter the whole time, stumbling over his words a bit when you'd cracked some joke that you'd likely practiced for new customers. Jungkook wasn't usually like this. Your beauty had just caught him completely off-guard, leaving him looking like a gaping idiot.

You were beautiful, charming, and overall just a goddess in Jungkook's eyes.

It had been on that day that he'd decided that his life would now revolve around getting you to be his.

Jungkook had a tendency to get everything he wanted anyways. Wealth just happened to do that to a person.

The day that he'd meticulously planned for months had arrived.

Jungkook had practically jumped out of his seat when Jimin stepped out of his office to inquire as to who would be getting their usual drinks this time around. He tried not to be obvious about it, but he couldn't let this day go to waste. He'd even done his hair in a way he knew you liked (at least based on your prior dating history), donning a suit that perfectly showed off his body line, accentuating his muscles while also letting the dip of his waist show.

He felt frivolous, but the mere thought of you enjoying his appearance made him appreciate himself all the better.

Stepping out, there was a pep in his step. The knowledge that he'd finally — officially — meet the girl of his dreams had him over the moon. Taehyung had even eyed him weirdly when he noticed his uncharacteristic enthusiasm on a random Tuesday morning. Jungkook simply brushed him off. Nothing was going to derail him today.

Today would be the start of the rest of his life. Nothing had mattered as much as this moment.

As he stood in front of your place of work, he hesitated a bit.

The glass doors gave him a perfect view of you working behind the coffee bar. He stayed there, watching you from afar, for a few moments. Not minding the buzzling in and out of the coffee shop, he remained there, attempting to psych himself up to finally make a move.

Would you remember him?

No, of course not. Why would you?

Your one and only meeting had been three months ago. It had been such a fleeting moment, yet it had left such a long-standing effect on him. Jungkook hoped maybe that had been mutual, but according to your messaging history, that was not the case.

Shaking his head of any irrelevant thoughts, he finally stepped forward, hand landing on the door to push it open. And then, there you were.

You weren't paying attention to him as he stepped towards the counter. No, you were wiping the table — always doing something, always working. Jungkook knew this about you. You had a habit to keep yourself busy at all times. You liked feeling useful. He really liked this about you.

When he finally settled his feet right across from you, you looked up with a slight jump. Jungkook even noticed you do a quick double-take at his appearance.

"Oh, uh hi! Welcome. What can I get for you today?", you cleared your throat with a smile.

"Morning," he smiled back, sheepish, "Sorry, it's a bit of a big order. I'm on coffee run duty today," he said as he handed you the slip of paper containing his floor's orders of choice.

"Oh, yeah for sure," you grabbed the note, incidentally brushing your fingers.

Jungkook had to do a double take himself when he noticed a slight blush on your cheeks at the contact. He couldn't let his confidence falter, but the internal satisfaction at even the slightest reciprocation already had him beaming.

Was it really working? He hadn't even done anything yet. Maybe catering his looks to your liking really did have its intended effect.

You excused yourself from the counter and walked over to the side to begin preparing the drinks. Jungkook, being as determined as he was, trailed along, not minding the glass above the counter separating customers from baristas. Dumbly, he watched as you made the drinks, occasionally catching your eye and chuckling when you'd giggle.

"Is coffee making that interesting to you?", you chuckled, head tilting in curiosity but not once stopping your work.

"The sight is fascinating for sure," he hummed.

You faltered a bit after that, grip on the cup needing readjustment due to his unexpected flirting. Jungkook, on the contrary, maintained his posture. His eyes remained on yours and a small smile graced his lips.

"Okay, damn," you murmured under your breath. You tried to suppress a flustered smile, but Jungkook still caught it.

"Too forward? I thought maybe it was too subtle," he chuckled.

You set aside one of the drinks, moving onto the next one. If Jungkook didn't know any better, he might've thought you were taking your time.

"Do you do this to all service workers or am I just special?"

"Maybe you're just special," he began, "I can't lie, you might've caught my eye last time I was here," he admitted.

Half-truths were okay.

"Oh? I don't remember you. Remind me?"

Your tone had turned higher, maybe even flirtatious. Luck was on Jungkook's side today.

He'd known you to like guys who were a little forward — or at least that's what you'd texted your best friend after another failed date with a guy who couldn't mumble his way out of a single compliment. Apart from attempting to physically embody your type, he'd also decided to act in every way he knew you'd be extra responsive to.

Luckily for Jungkook, it appeared as if your type was pretty much just him.

"Hmm," he pretended to ponder over it, "Too little time. Maybe I could stop by after your shift and remind you then. It was a life-changing experience, I have lots to say."

A truth hidden behind a joke. He was doing good at this.

Another giggle left your lips, almost dropping the pen you were currently using to write the names of each recipient of the drinks.

"Your suit looks more expensive than my monthly wages. Are you sure you wanna spend your time waiting for a lowly barista, Mr. CEO?"

If only you knew just how much time he was willing to invest in you. How much he'd already invested.

"Not a CEO. And I'd be willing to stand here for hours if that's what it takes."

"Okay, damn. You're serious, huh?", you laughed, "I'm off in three hours. But I'll look a mess by then. If you really want to tell me how I changed your life, here's my number," your hand crossed the threshold of the small divide between the counter and the bar, grabbing onto his own and scribbling your number on the back of his hand.

"I hope you know I'll be making liberal use of this," he warned lightheartedly.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," you grinned one last time before handing him a cup holder with all his drinks.

Jungkook had to force himself and be cool as he exited out of the establishment, attempting to conceal the huge smile on his lips at his success.

Things had gone way smoother than he'd ever fantasized. The nerves he was sure would surge as soon as he saw you simply never made an appearance. He'd been able to wow you, to make you laugh. Fuck, your shy giggle at his dumb flirting would likely replay in his brain for the rest of the day.

There was a brand new pep in his step as he made his way back. It had taken herculean self-control to not look back and check if you were looking back at him as he left. He needed to play it cool. You liked guys who were down, horribly bad for you, but that would come later. For now, he needed to preserve an image of coolness.

Jungkook made his way back to his building, multiple cups in hand aided by the cup holder. He'd made sure his hand remained untouched, unwilling to risk losing your number (despite the fact he already had it — and way more than just your number).

It was the cutest thing to him, seeing you scribble your number on his hand as your hand held his firm for the pressure of the pen. The shadow of your touch remained on him, something which he would preserve in his mind until the moment he got to feel your touch again.

Jungkook's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice. Though not too sudden, as he was now surrounded by people, not having realized he'd arrived as he was deep in his thoughts.

"You look very happy."

Turning to his side, he found Taehyung standing there, hands on hips before he walked over to Jungkook and took his coffee from the beverage holder he had at hand. He had that same look on his face he always had when he was teasing him. Jungkook felt slightly embarrassed at how obvious his feelings showed through his face.

The smile on his lips simply couldn't be helped.

"Oh, I-"

"You have that dopey smile on your face. I haven't seen that in a while," Tae noted, "Who is she?"

Jungkook did a combination of a choked breath and a scoff, resulting in a very unpleasant sound. Clearing his throat to properly respond, he took a sip from his own coffee, setting down the rest on a table nearby so they could be up for grabs.

"What makes you think it's a girl?", he attempted to evade.

"C'mon, man. Humor me," Tae nudged.

Jungkook sighed, knowing that Tae would probably not let this go. Jungkook was known as a man adverse to the dating scene, constantly pushed and pulled in every direction possible to get him to give dating a chance. What no one had known was that his heart was waiting for the perfect girl, which he'd been lucky to have found a few months back and had locked his mind and heart on.

Since things with you were pretty much settled now, Jungkook supposed that mentioning his upcoming date (the one he'd ensure to schedule with you as soon as humanly possible) wasn't too out of the question. He was too giddy to keep it in.

"Uhm, I might've asked a girl for her number."

And it was like those words sounded an alarm at the office.

Suddenly Jimin was standing next to Taehyung, with Hobi stopping on his tracks to join in on the conversation, all with their ears practically perked up in Jungkook's direction.

"You what?!"

"A girl? Since when? Who?"

"Fucking finally. I ran out of girls to set you up with."

All congratulatory and accusatory messages were delivered all at once, making Jungkook roll his eyes at the collective.

He was known as a hopeless romantic, which was known to make him incredibly picky — or anal, as Taehyung could say — about who he dated. So, yeah, maybe the fact that he'd asked a girl for her number was a big deal. But Jungkook didn't want his friends meddling with it or asking too many questions before things even started.

Especially when Jungkook couldn't really let anyone in on how he'd met you or how he'd ended up in this situation in the first place. Not even his friends could become privy to the liberal freedoms he'd taken to get to know you and ensure he'd get a chance at being with you.

His master plan was a secret he'd take to the grave.

"Just a girl. It's not a for sure thing yet. Don't wanna jinx it," is what he settled with to avoid any specifics.

"C'mon. Nothing else? It's been years, man. Give us something more," Hobi goaded.

Jungkook couldn't help the slight smile that threatened to break through at the thought of you. At the thought of what was to come.

"I'll keep you guys updated after I actually ask her out."

He received some 'boo's for that, but the shrugged them off with a lighthearted eye-roll, taking his coffee and walking over to his office after a few more minutes of teasing from his friends. They'd pointed out the phone number on his hand, awing and cooing at him in jest before he took his leave. His friends left his mind as soon as he stepped into his office, uncharacteristically putting work aside so he could put his mind on more important things — you.

Pulling out his phone, well, his burner, he decided to course through your social medias just out of sheer curiosity. Had you said anything about him? Maybe texted a friend? It'd only been a few minutes, but he knew you were usually due for a break soon and the curiosity was killing him. He needed to know what your first impression of him.

He checked your twitter, your private twitter account, even your instagram, and nothing. Which was to be expected. You weren't really the type to post your every move. But still, Jungkook was hopeful that maybe he'd invaded your mind in the same way you did his.

And then he suddenly got a notification. It was a text message from your friend, instigating him into opening your messaging app.

Upon opening it, he found an ongoing conversation, leading him to scroll up a bit to see how it'd started.

you - omfg i met the cutest guy just now you - he asked for my number im going insane you - he smelled so fucking good fuckjhdgfhskd

bestie - wait bestie - what ??? bestie - WHO bestie - PICS

you - i dont have pics u freak you - we barely just met. he's hot as fuck though !!!! you - im in over my head he's perfect

bestie - so whats the plan !!!! bestie - are yall meeting or what ?? bestie - r u fucking him bestie - i thought u were over dating bc of last time ...

you - dont bring that demon up !!! you - we didnt make plans. i just gave him my number but he kept flirting so im hoping for a call soon you - (or else ill go looking for him hes too fine to let go) you - ill make an exception for him he's just my type

Jungkook was practically kicking his feet like a teenage girl in love at every single message.

It was odd watching the conversation play out in real time, but he couldn't be too bothered about that. Not when he was so enamored with the way you spoke about him.

You wanted him!!! You wanted to fuck him!!! — a thought that made him both blush and his skin heat up. You were interested and willing to give dating a chance just to get to know him.

He was beyond fucked. But in a good way.

The excitement brought goosebumps to his skin and the itch to contact you immediately and confess his addiction to you grew more by the second.

But he had to play it cool.

He exited out of the conversation after that, wanting to give you some privacy to gush over him with your friend (it was really the least he could do).

However, the itch to message you persisted, which is exactly what he did next.

He went through many reiterations of what to send, thinking back to prior conversations you'd had with previous partners and the subsequent conversations you'd had with your friends about said partners. If Jungkook was anything, he was an expert on you. If he had to take on another PhD, his thesis would undoubtedly be about you.

In the end, he decided on being true to himself while also following the self-given advice he'd gathered through the months of knowing you.

Jungkook - let me take you out. Jungkook - this is jungkook btw Jungkook - (the love of ur life in case that wasnt clear)

Okay, sure, he wasn't as suave as the average person would expect. However, he was very well aware of what your type was. You liked to be chased, to have a guy on his knees begging for a chance — but not in a creepy way. Those had been your exact words the multiple times in which you'd vented to your friends both via text and facetime.

To your luck, Jungkook was exactly that. He had already gone way more out of his way than the average person did (or should) just to get one chance to get you to consider him as a suitor. Being down bad, or perhaps even a loser, was not a feat for him.

Your response came after a few minutes, with an excited acceptance to his offer (thank god) and a plan ultimately set up for the upcoming weekend. Jungkook could barely continue his work day after such news, too giddy to concentrate and wanting to huddle under a blanket and kick at his feet like a teenage girl.

The rest of the day was spent with thoughts of you, pushing his work aside while he mentally prepared yet another gameplan for what was to come. He needed to think of a date, arrange it, maybe even plan for what would come after it — because there would be another. He'd ensure it.

It was a few days away, yet Jungkook continued to think about it up until that very day, thankful he no longer had to wait and watch back as you dated dumbass after dumbass. Jungkook had already forgotten about every undeserving idiot he had witnessed come before him, knowing himself to be on a whole entire level to them.

As the days towards the date passed, Jungkook continued casually texting you, making good on his promise to make liberal use of your phone number (despite having already made good use of all your other information without your knowledge). He shared reels with you, tiktoks, messaged you jokes, 'good mornings,' flirtatious back and forths, anything that could get the two of you talking in the meantime. Jungkook wanted to share his genuine personality with you, hopeful that you'd like him as he was and that your personalities were as compatible as he'd predicted.

And he'd been correct. Your conversations never halted abruptly, flowing through the days and never having awkward lulls in between. It felt like talking to an old friend, except that this time around it was who he believed would become his soulmate.

Despite wanting to give you more privacy now that he had actually met you formally, Jungkook still occasionally fell for the temptation of checking your messages through his burner phone. He'd made a deal with himself that he'd stop, that he'd do things right and not mar things between you by reading your private conversations or spying on you as he did before. But sometimes it was hard. Especially when he needed to ensure things went well enough for him to be able to ask you to be official.

And so he checked, and was very pleased by what he found.

Your words about him towards your friends were blush-worthy, to say the least. You'd shower him with compliments, with some being PG while others leaning towards more R rated territory. He'd blush and flush and go crazy at those comments, itching to get you alone and show you even more things to gush about to your friends.

But for now, he prepared for your date. He'd have time to rock your world later, all in due time. His cards needed to be played right, and he was more than prepared to win this game.

Unsurprisingly to Jungkook, the date went amazing.

From the moment he picked you up, to the moment he offered to walk you from his car to your door, everything went better than he'd fantasized night after night.

He'd picked an expensive restaurant, offering to take up the entire bill (as any gentleman should, but he knew you weren't used to such treatment) and even brought you what he knew to be your favorite flowers. He picked you up, of course, earning the reward of seeing you walk out of your apartment with the most life-ruining dress he'd ever seen. A few stammered compliments were given, leading to the price that were your shy giggles in return.

At the actual date, everything ran smoothly. Jungkook's knowledge of you proved useful to wow you, but truly, he didn't need to pretend or lie to you at any moment in order to impress you. He was himself, and that was something you seemed to adore (but not as much as he already adored you). Every joke was met with a giggle, and every train of thought was reciprocated and entertained by you. You'd even played footsie with him at some point, sharing the teasing physical contact with him in return to his occasional flirtation.

When it came time to leave, he drove you back home, parking a little further away under some lame pretense just so he could spend a little extra time with you to walk you home. You caught on to this, but to Jungkook's joy, you entertained his idea, not wanting the night to end just yet either.

Once at your door, Jungkook felt conflicted.

Preferably, this would be the moment in which he finally shared his first kiss with you, a moment he'd imagined too many times to be able to admit. Yet, he found himself hesitating.

As far as he'd known you, you'd disapproved of moving too fast in relationships. It just wasn't you, you'd say. The only occasions in which you allowed for things to move forward within short periods of time were for one-night stands or when you already knew there would be no further dates.

Jungkook, however, wished to not be lumped into neither one of those categories.

So he stood there, smiling at you, holding onto your hand and unwilling to let go as his thumb graced your knuckles in a soft manner. It was silent, but it wasn't awkward. The best way to describe it was enamored — and to Jungkook's delight, it seemed to be a mutual sentiment!

But then you threw him off completely.

Not bothering to warn him, you stepped forward, putting your hands on his jaw and pulling him in as you stood on your tippy toes to reach him.

He had no time to react, eyes widening and mouth opening as you connected your lips to his. It took him a second to respond, with his arms still limp and awkward between you before he stepped into action. If you wanted a kiss, he'd deliver the best one of your life.

Taking control of the situation was easy. The shock of his long-time wish finally coming true only had him in dreamland for a few seconds before he finally snapped and reciprocated. He began to lead you, lips overpowering yours and tongue slipping out of his mouth and into your own.

He couldn't let himself think about the kiss too deeply. It was already torturous, hearing your sighs muffled by his lips and swallowing every tiny sound you made at the aggressive way in which he'd begun to kiss you. He had all the power, and much to his mental dismay, you seemed to really enjoy it.

But he needed to control himself. He couldn't let this move too fast. Couldn't let himself give in to desire and have his long-awaited day with you. Even if his body was itching for him to get on his knees and beg for a chance between them, he had to hold himself back.

However, this did not prevent him from indulging in your touch at least a little.

Pushing you up against your front door, his lips trailed down your neck and into the expanse of your chest that was bared (courtesy of the cleavage you'd decided to bless Jungkook with). His lips were indecisive, going from your sternum and up to your neck, nipping lightly at times and easing the sting with flicks of his tongue. The pretty sounds you let out were more than reward enough for his efforts.

His knee ended up between your legs, itching closer and closer to your middle and digging itself there with a practiced precision that had you keening under his hold.

"Please," you sighed after some time, begging for something your dazed state likely didn't even know.

"Please what, baby?"

Your head turned, catching his lips again, but not in a kiss. It was too messy to be deemed a kiss, consisting of open mouths and too much spit to be considered sanitary.

"Come in? I wanna- Please come in," you pleaded, effectively killing Jungkook.

It took herculean effort for Jungkook to stay put. It was the hardest thing in the world to reject you when you were so desperate, when your voice was a mere breath of desire landing right against his lips before dipping into yet another kiss.

He couldn't help the groan that left him, but he replaced it with a chuckle when you whined at the separation of lips.

"You know I can't do that, baby."

"But I want you to!" you pouted, petulant and way too convincing.

His hand went up to your chin, turning your head towards him. It could've been considered a cute gesture, but his knee remained digging into your cunt (which was pulsing against him, driving him further into insanity) and your bodies were still too pressed up to be considered proper.

Looking up at him, you pouted, eyebrows hunched together in a way that let him know you were left wanting more. He thumbed at your chin in a soft manner, cooing at the adorable sight before him.

But you just had to pay him back for his teasing — though it was fair, considering his knee continued to dig into your cunt, earning tiny gasps from you and an eye-roll of pleasure.

You tilted your chin back, landing his thumb on your bottom lip and subsequently pulling it into your mouth (not that Jungkook put too much of a fight). Still staring into his eyes, you suckled at his thumb, wide, empty eyes making him lose himself.

He stood there, dumb and gone as he watched your cheeks sink in as you licked and sucked at his thumb, moaning when he pressed at your tongue. It was filthy and depraved and he loved it.

"Are you sure you won't come in?" you tried one last time, seduction in your voice.

It took everything in him. Every last ounce of self-control and survival skills in him to be able to deny you after you'd put on that little show for him.

But he'd worked too hard to fuck you within one day of having you. He needed to take his time and romance you as you'd always wanted. Sometimes he just knew you better than you knew yourself.

"I'm sorry, angel. I need to kiss you goodnight, okay?", he pouted back at you, chuckling when you mirrored his pout.

But then you smiled at him. Warm, accepting and especially enamored.

He had done good.

"I'll be waiting for a goodnight text from you," you said after he'd pecked your lips a few times, finally giving you enough space away from the door.

"I'll even text you good morning first thing tomorrow, beautiful," he smiled at you.

When you left (after even more chaste pecks), a smile overtook him. The half-forming boner was the last of his worries when he felt so happy at the outcome of tonight's events. He might've even skipped on his way to his car.

What happened next was slightly predictable to Jungkook.

He had sworn to himself he wouldn't. Had sword he'd give you privacy from now on. That he'd let things play out naturally now that he had you to himself, ready to fall in love with him.

Yet curiosity got the best of him once again.

He'd rushed his way home, even driving through a few red lights on his way. It was a life-or-death matter to him (or at least to his boner).

As soon as he was home, he ran to his macbook, opening up the tab that would display the only sight that would leave him satisfied when he was so pent up and needy for you.

And when he caught sight of what he'd been looking for, a groan couldn't help itself but to escape his lips.

There you were, busy with your hand between your legs as you sighed out Jungkook's name in between flicks of your clit. The sight was sinful, leaving Jungkook a lifeless version of himself as he groaned and cried out at the view.

Joining you in your touches was a given. He wished he could be there right now, working you to his desires, but he was still content with the current state of affairs. His hands undid his pants faster than they'd ever before, freeing himself from any clothing concealing him before losing himself in you.

He'd seen you touch yourself countless times, already well aware of what you'd do, how you'd play with yourself. But this time was different. This time it was rushed, desperate. It was a desperation he easily mirrored, completely empathetic to the feeling.

It didn't take him much to make himself cum, having already been on the brink whilst driving himself home. The effect some mere kissing and fondling had had on him was somewhat embarrassing, but he couldn't blame himself. Not when you'd been the cause.

Watching you cum, back arching and breath hitching at the overwhelming feeling. Even as he watched you, he felt pained. It was a depraved feeling he'd never experienced before, with the incessant need to be the one experiencing these feelings with you, cursing at himself for depriving himself from the experience.

Once the sensations seized, Jungkook closed his computer, setting it aside so he could ruminate on that day's occurrences.

Before going to sleep, he made sure to give you that 'goodnight' text he'd promised, smiling at himself when you replied, even adding a few heart emojis in tandem.

The development of your newfound relationship continued just as Jungkook had hoped.

More dates went by, with frequent stops at your cafe any time he had a short break during work (meaning, often). It was easy to tell that you were as enamored with Jungkook as he was with you. The many flirty texts and delivered flowers paid off, and it all felt very natural to him. Treating you the way you deserved, the way he'd been itching to treat you, it was like a gift to Jungkook.

It'd only been a month, yet it felt like an eternity to him.

He'd stopped keeping tabs on you by then.

Well, for the most part.

The curiosity after every date remained in him. Every time he held back and dropped you off without anything further than some kisses, he itched to know how you felt afterwards, instantly checking on his camera and even looking for any feedback you may have given your friends.

It was safe to say that you wanted him just as much as he did you.

Which made it all the more difficult to hold back from letting you pull him into your apartment and finally having his way with you.

But after this month of pure bliss, Jungkook finally decided.

He'd finally let himself have you in the way he'd been thirsting after.

Tonight, he'd planned yet another date. After that first one, it was virtually impossible for the two of you to stay away from each other. Not only did Jungkook want to spend every available second with you, but you were very responsive to that fact, always accepting and even suggesting dates.

But tonight was different. When you'd suggested some ice cream and a walk in the park, Jungkook took a risk and asked you if you'd rather come over, maybe watch a movie and eat some pre-bought ice cream (of your choosing, of course). It was a thinly-veiled excuse to get you in his apartment (and completely alone) for the first time.

And unsurprisingly to Jungkook, you accepted. There was a suggestive smile in your lips when you did so, leading Jungkook to believe that you were aware of his desires and even shared some of your own.

He couldn't help the anxious feelings overtaking him as he waited for you to arrive. He knew what was coming, knew that tonight would be the culmination of all he'd ever wanted since laying eyes on you. His skin burned at the thought of what was to come and his body shook in anticipation, goosebumps forming as the minutes passed.

When you knocked on his door, he couldn't help but run to it like a dog awaiting its owner's return. He didn't want to appear too giddy, like some freak only wanting to jump into your pants, but that fact was half reality. He was depraved for you. He was desperate, only having held back for so long because he had wanted to do things right, to win your heart before getting access to your body.

And finally he'd have both.

"Hey," you smiled up at him at his doorstep, front teeth digging into the plush of your bottom lip. You leant against his door frame, casual yet slightly nervous.

Looking down at you, he noted your cutesy pajamas. A matching set of tiny shorts and a tank top currently covered by an oversized hoodie, unzipped and letting him in on your outfit.

"Ready for our sleepover?", you giggled.

It was impossible not to be enamored by you.

When he'd suggested a movie and some ice cream at his place, you'd adorably suggested a sleepover, insisting on some movie marathon of his choice and all the snacks you could wish for. You'd said that it was an excuse to 'be domestic and shit,' as you'd put it. You also adamantly claimed you needed to check whether or not he snored in order to continue the relationship (all whilst blushing at the 'r' word, not having labeled things yet and unknowing that Jungkook would do so tonight).

He smiled back at you, doing his best to hold back from aggressively attacking you with the affection overflowing him. His mind battled between finding you adorable and wanting to lock you down and keep you in his bed for weeks to come.

"Come in, pretty. I got all your favorite snacks," he welcomed you in with a bear hug, humming loudly as he nuzzled into your neck.

"Hmm, you give the best hugs, I hate you," you grumbled when he let go.

Then you walked in as if you owned the place, practically skipping over to the couch nearby and eyeing all the snacks Jungkook had grown to recognize as your favorites — though he had known this from the months of watching you.

"Come on! Sit. I demand my sleepover," you whined, getting up from the couch and pulling him to sit right next to you.

He chuckled, finding you adorable yet again.

Only one movie was watched before things began leaving the PG-13 realm Jungkook had invertedly found himself in.

After a bit, you'd cuddled into him, with his arm enveloping you and accepting you into his chest as you continued to watch the movie. But the movie was the last thing in his mind. What he wanted was to see in person that body which he'd so often watched through a screen without your knowledge.

He had theories of what you'd feel like under his touch, of how you'd react to his. But ultimately, he knew that imagination would never compare to reality.

By now, neither of you were paying attention to the movie. Jungkook had been unfocused since the moment you walked in. However, you'd kept up the pretense of an innocent sleepover for a little longer than he did. While he'd been ready to jump you since the date began, you'd played dumb and cuddled up to him as you watched the movie, though not once rejecting his attempts to get closer and closer.

And now, after the first movie of the night was finally over, his hands became braver. Sensing your equal desire for him, he let his hands find your bare thighs, knuckles running up and down their expanse as he subtly looked to his side, watching you squirm at the touch.

You pushed yourself closer, legs pressing together a bit when his hand began to dip into the middle of your legs. With a giggle, you turned your body to face this, a failed attempt at concealing a smile showing on your face.

"Slick," you chuckled. You might've meant it to mock him, but you still began giving in, putting your own hands on him.

Naturally, he took advantage of this, grabbing onto your hips and pulling you to straddle his lap. Your hands found their place on his shoulders, sliding from his shoulders to his jaw while his did the same on your waist and hips.

Kissing you came just as naturally, pulling you in and trapping your bottom lip between his own two, making the kiss deeper than you'd ever kissed each other before. You instantly hummed into his mouth, hands reaching to his head and pulling him closer. His own remained on your hips, having fun squeezing at the plush skin there, bare due to your shorts having ridden up while straddling him.

With a self-prescribed oral fixation, Jungkook would've had fun kissing you for hours on end. He had already fostered a tendency to bite at his own lip ring, but the satisfaction he got from it only intensified when you did it — which was exactly what you were doing at that moment.

As you nibbled and sucked at his bottom lip, occasionally pulling at the silver ring with your teeth, Jungkook's hands began feeling you up, slowly losing their hesitation in grabbing at any curve he could reach. Your hands eventually came to do the same, finding his arms and sighing into his lips when you felt the stiff muscle under your hands.

When Jungkook got tired of feeling you up through your clothes, his hands reached the hem of your top, slowly reaching underneath it to ensure he gave you time to pull him away if you didn't want him to do so (which he was very certain was not the case, at least going off your own hands doing the same to him). Pulling off your top, he disconnected your lips, moving onto your neck and letting his thumbs feel at your bare nipples, chuckling at the low whine you let out at the action.

"You're so pretty, baby," he murmured.

His eyes were closed and his face nuzzled into your neck, kisses being left in his wake. But despite having not seen the expanse of your torso yet, he knew you were the prettiest thing he would've ever laid his eyes on. He'd seen you countless times. Maybe through a screen and maybe without your knowledge, but he'd seen you enough to have every inch memorized. Now was time to memorize it all to the touch.

"Yeah?", you sighed, numb, thoughtless, just like he wanted you.

"Mhm," he hummed in affirmation, "Already so needy, huh?"

His lips went lower, hand flat on the middle of your back to hold your body up and finding his way to your breasts, covering in licks and kisses as you sighed along to every single one. He was in cloud 9, finally able to touch you as he'd always wanted. In every way he saw useless men attempt to.

You became antsy quickly after that. He was sure you could feel his hardness under you, especially when you'd readjust yourself on his lap, huffing when his hold on you gave you no freedom to move and find some friction against him. It was unspoken, but he was in charge here. Your pleasure was entirely his responsibility, and he'd choose exactly how he'd give it to you.

After all, he knew you better than you knew yourself.

"Take me to your room," you mumbled in between heavy breaths, already exhausted with lust.

Without a second to hesitate, Jungkook's hands went under your thighs, standing up as he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. The trip was a short one, ending with you sitting at the edge of his bed while he stood before you, hand on your chin to ensure you'd look up at him.

And the sight made him crazy.

There was not a single thought behind those eyes, only unadulterated lust staring up at him.

He mindlessly thumbed his way up to your lower lip, clawing at it softly in a silent command for your mouth to open and allow him in. And to no one's surprise, you took him in, suckling lightly at the digit as you continued looking up at him, faux innocent look in your eyes.

A silent groan left him at the act, knowing that this would be what you looked like if you were to be good for him and get some other part for him in your mouth. But even the mere finger sucking had him fighting for his life. He pressed his thumb into your tongue, pushing back a little and getting a slight gag out of you before you continued in your adamant sucking.

"Fuck," he muttered.

Then he used that same hand to pull your face towards his own, leaning down a bit to meet you in the middle.

While the kiss in the living room had already been nasty enough for his liking, this one was nothing if not depraved. Your tongues met in the middle, before any lip action could actually happen. It involved a lot of teeth knocking and needy sounds released against each other, but Jungkook thrived off this neediness. Knowing you wanted him so badly that you lost all inhibitions, all sense of self — it made him dizzy with desire.

Mid kiss, he began lowering himself on the floor, pulling your neck down with him so you'd angle down, keeping your lips connected despite the newfound discrepancy in height. When the kiss finally had to be broken, he immediately latched onto the bare skin of your legs, hands itching to pull off your shorts and panties down (thankfully, you were still lucid enough to lift your hips and aid him in this). And then he was finally met with the sight he'd been craving to bury himself in for months.

It was plush, slightly swollen with desire and dripping with arousal, staring back at him as he attempted to hold back.

He dove in without a single second-thought, hands opening your legs far enough to find himself his rightful spot between them.

This. This was all he'd think about as he'd watch you date dumbass after dumbass, left displeased by every single one no matter how hard you tried to find at least a single competent one.

He gave you everything he had in him, licking at the expanse of your cunt before stopping at your clit and giving it special attention. His hands gripped at your thighs, angling you so you'd lay back on the bed as he had some alone time with your pussy. Your hands pulled at his hair, maybe too harshly, but he couldn't feel anything but bliss at that moment.

Your taste, your smell, your touch, it was all taking over his mind. This had been all he thought about night after night, watching your failed dates and hoping he'd be the next one on the list. He knew exactly how to please you, both from innate knowledge and from how much he'd studied you these past months.

"F-fuck, you nose ..." you cried out when it accidentally rubbed at your clit, intensifying its movements after your reaction.

"Taste so good, baby," he mumbled.

It was impossible to ignore his own arousal now, allowing himself to rub against the side of the mattress while he continued to lick and suck at you. His mind was fuzzy, completely overtaken by the pleasure your touch, your taste, your smell, your sounds, you were giving him.

When you came, he still couldn't stop himself. He continued lapping at you, drunk in the taste and far too blissed out to process that the current pulling of his hair meant you were too sensitive to receive more.

When your whines got louder, he finally let you go, sitting back on the floor as he caught his breath.

Worth it.

"You're insane," you gasped between heavy breaths.

But he was too busy licking at any leftover essence dripping on his chin, smirking when you gaped at him.

"You did this to me," he rebutted, "Maybe don't seduce me next time," and then he climbed back on the bed, taking his rightful place above you as he kissed you once more, tongue in first to ensure you got a taste of yourself.

Immediately, your legs wrapped around him, forcing him down onto your bare center and encouraging to bump his hips against yours. His hands intervened, working at his sweats as fast as he could so he could finally get that skin-to-skin contact he'd been craving. With your feet, you haphazardly tried to aid him in pushing them off, with them ending up at his ankles and ultimately pushed off by his own feet. Separation seemed to be offensive to him, refusing to disconnect his lips from some part of your body at any time.

"'m gonna fuck you now, okay, baby?", he muttered, landing one last kiss on your lips.

"Like this? Or do you wanna-"

"Mm, like this. Wanna see you," he said as if it was the most obvious thing ever (which, fairly, to him it was).

He didn't bother with a condom, knowing you were on birth control after one of the many flirty late-night conversations you'd had leading up to this night (though he already had this knowledge through his secretive means).

Entering you could not be measured nor compared to any other experience. He'd known the event would be ruinous, but his mind could not have ever come close to reality.

Your eyes practically rolled back when he bottomed out, giving him a sight that he could never forget. Part of him wanted to reach down to his sweats and pull out his phone from his pocket, maybe take a picture, set it as his lockscreen and utilize it any time you weren't around.

But the thought left him when you whined at him to move, claiming you needed him.

Your nails dragged down his back as he began hammering in, making him wince at the painful pleasure. Burying his head in your neck, he kissed at the skin there, groaning when you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling yourself as close as possible whilst attempting to move against him.

"Feel so fucking good," he grunted, "Made for me, huh? You were just waiting for me to fuck you, huh, baby? Needed someone who knew how to make you feel good."

He was telling on himself a bit, but he didn't care. He needed to assert his place over every man that'd ever touched you before. Needed to confirm it for both you and him.

"Yes!," you cried out, "So good, fuck."

Your words were mostly nonsensical babbles after that, with the occasional curse or sigh of his name mixed in.

Jungkook was in paradise. This was all he'd wanted ever since his eyes landed on you. The feeling of your pulse surrounding his cock made his eyes roll back, making him struggle to keep up with the euphoric sensations you were giving him. He now understood why every man that landed on your bed was unable to please you. You simply rendered them boneless vessels of bliss.

"God, never letting you go after this. You know that, right? All mine," he rambled, truth spilling from his lips.

But you liked it. Your nails dug into his back, head nodding feverishly in agreement at his words.

"Mhm. Yours, fuck. Please don't stop ..."

He groaned, further burying his head in your neck and pressing himself up as close as humanly possible. Any distance between you felt like a burn to him.

His orgasm approached, but he knew the telltale signs of your own by memory. You were right there with him.

"Feels so fucking good, gorgeous. She's gripping me so hard, fuck. She's gonna cum for me, hmm? Wanna see you cum, pretty," he panted out.

You wailed when his thumb made its way between you, nudging at you lightly and teasingly enough to have you seeing stars. The movements of his hips never seized, barely able to move with how tight you were but still working you to completion.

When you came, you dragged him down with you, sighing out words that made him lose his mind.

"Cum inside ... Please. Wanna feel it," and just like that, Jungkook lost himself in you, filling you to the brim with no shame.

His hips kept slapping against the back of your thighs, chaffing skin forming due to the friction. But the feeling took the backseat in the midst of bliss.

Jungkook allowed himself to lay his body next to yours afterwards, giving you the role of little spoon as he pulled you as close as possible, with your head lying happily on his bicep.

Multiple pecks landed on your lips, chuckling when you groaned at him pulling out.

"You're crazy," you giggled, kissing his nose and simultaneously melting his heart in the process.

He shrugged, playing it off, "Had to make my girl feel good."

"Oh? Your girl?", you teased.

He engulfed you in his arms, flipping you so you'd lay under him, both arms caging you beneath him, "You're kind of mine now, in case that wasn't clear."

It was voiced as a joke, but he meant it.

"No complaints here," you giggled, kissing him as confirmation.

Pleased, he sat the two of you up, patting your hip in a comforting manner.

"C'mon, baby, go pee. I'll be waiting here with a clean change of sheets, okay?"

And with that, you practically skipped away, giving him a few kisses in that post-coital bliss before losing him to the other side of the bathroom connected to his bedroom.

Before bothering to throw off the sheets, Jungkook looked over his shoulder, making sure you were out of sight. He reached under his mattress, collecting the old phone and tablet through which he'd grown accustomed to surveilling you with, chuckling to himself as he turned them off, giving them a silent goodbye before throwing them into the trash.

He wouldn't be needing them anymore.

to read short 1.8k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, stalker!jungkook, afab reader, jk watches reader masturbate without her knowledge, masturbation (both f and m receiving), oral (f receiving), cumming in pants, etc.

wc: 297 (teaser); 1869 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

Jungkook had planned to stick to his word.

When he swore to himself that he'd give you privacy, trust you and let you exist without his constant supervision, he had truly meant it. However, as it usually happened, he was able to create nonsensical logistics in order to go back on his word.

It's not like he watched over you as he did before meeting you, though! He truly did give you your privacy — well, to some extent.

Any time you left his apartment, landing a sweet kiss on his cheek and informing him you'd be out with some friends, he restrained (despite the tiny dress you'd be wearing, letting him know you'd be garnering far too much attention from onlookers), wanting you to have fun with your friends without his watchful eyes (even if you wouldn't realize he had the ability to track you anyway). But he held back, trusting you to go and head back to your own bed afterwards, sending him a text goodnight with a cute kissy emoji attached.

When you'd be too preoccupied with your phone, rather than checking your texts through his burner phone, he'd nuzzle into your shoulder, happy at your indifference of him eyeing your screen (where he'd usually just find you playing some silly phone game or texting your friends).

However, it was under the dumbest circumstances possible that Jungkook just couldn't help himself in invading your privacy.

And this was any time you spent the night alone in your apartment rather than in his.

Any time you slept away from each other, he just needed to take a peak, to access that hidden camera he just refused to get rid of and get a look at the little show you'd put for him (all without your knowledge).

...

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tragedyofdevotion · 1 day ago

Text

The thing with Rin is that he will be genuinely nice to someone he loves.

Of course, in the initial stages of getting to know him, he will be an asshole to you. But he will be nicer and nicer to you once you become close enough to become friends, not outwardly kind and gentle, but care about you and your wellbeing enough to be considerate, like walking you home when it is late or worrying about you when you are sick.

But then as soon as he realize that he is in love with you, he enters the denial stage where he will treat you worse than his worst rivals. Ignoring you when you approach, glaring at you like you killed his family when you try talking to him. Because how dare you! How dare you make him feel genuine happiness, not the egoistical satisfaction he feels when he outwit his opponent and scored a goal, but genuine, pure and sincere joy, with butterflies and caterpillars and all other insects dancing in his stomach and thoracic cavity and everywhere his blood travels.

But after sometime, he gives up, he gives up and admit to himself that he is in love with you and no amount of pushing you away can stop him from loving you. So, he surrenders himself to the warm bubbly feeling he has. And after that, you have a cute tsundere puppy who is eager for your praise, your approval and will do everything to see you smile.

One the other hand, Sae... Sae is someone who knows what he wants. And with his magnetic lure, it is not that difficult for him to get what he wants.

And unlike how it is with Rin, you are the one falling in love with him, and you fall hard. He doesn't even have to try, actually. It is just the small upturn of one corner of his mouth as he looks at you with those enchanting eyes and you are done. It is game over.

And Sae knows that, Sae knows how much of a hold he has over you. It is like selling your soul to the demon, but the demon in this case is a very successful egoist soccer player, and all you get in return is a meager of his attention when he wants to give it to you. But what you offer up to him is your soul, your heart, your body and every breathe you take.

This is not to say that Sae treats you badly. I mean he has feelings for you. That is why he wanted you in the first place. And he respect you to a degree and he views you as his equal. But to him, soccer is, and will always be the first. You are not one of the priorities for him. And it may not be very obvious but after a long time, it shows. It shows and it hurts you because you are hopelessly, obsessively in love with him and what he can give you is not enough.

For example, if you were in a relationship with Rin: Rin would come home after a long tiring day of training to you.

But Sae: he come home after training to give his body the rest for another day of training but he wants you there at home because you are his.

This is why a toxic love triangle with the two of them is very very interesting.

You, being helplessly in love with Sae, while at the same time, being the person Rin seeks approval from.

To the massive feeling you have fun for Sae, what he gives you back is not enough, and it makes you starved and thirsty for any ounce of attention Sae would give you. But when he can't give you that, you are cracked, like the soul without any hydration.

And it is Rin's duty to water you back to health with his worried frown and a kind but crude remark. And as soon as you are back to health, you ran back to Sae, because that is what you are, a dog, a pet, with a leash and a collar that you willing put on your neck.

#blue lock rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi rin #itoshi brothers #blue lock rin #blue lock sae #itoshi sae x you #itoshi rin x you

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bunbun-mochi · 19 hours ago

Text

Soothing to Sleep

Caleb x MC (in a relationship)

Warning: Fluff, lots of fluff.

Word Count: 2019, no proofreading

Preview: Caleb had been tired from all the work he'd been doing as a Colonel. You can tell the dark circle under his eyes so you decided to pamper him and help him sleep.

Note: Wrote this instead of studying. Gonna ace that exam. Colonel Caleb, send me luck. Lots of it.

Tagging: @madam8, @gavin3469

Caleb scowled as he read the reports. The more reports he read, the more ridiculous it gets. Ever since he came back from the deepspace tunnel routine yesterday, the work just seems neverending. As soon as he finishes one stack of paperwork, Liam just walks in with another stack of paperwork to finish. To make matters worse, his subordinates don't seem to behave. Every now and then, Liam would report in trouble from the lower ranks. In most cases, they could've solved the problem if they had done their job. As if on cue, Liam called in.

"Colonel," Liam's voice rang in Caleb's earpiece. "The captain of the 8th squadron asked for your presence. He said there had been a problem among the soldiers."

"What sort of problem?" Caleb asked. It sounded more of a frustration than a question.

"I'm not sure. He said a fight had happened." Liam answered.

"I'll be right there," Caleb said before ending the call. He sighed loudly before walking out of his office. This better be good.

Caleb's eyes twitched slightly when he walked to the so-called problem. Four soldiers were in a fistfight, taunting each other, while the other soldiers cheered. He glared at the captain of this group, "I'm pretty sure your job specifically says that you take care of any fights within your squadron?"

The captain hung his head as if feeling shameful, "I tried, but I don't have the capabilities-"

"No capabilities to stop a fight?" Caleb clicked his tongue. He walked toward the fight.

"Stop fighting this instant." A cold voice sliced through the air, and many soldiers who were cheering immediately stopped to turn to see that the colonel himself had arrived at the scene. The crowd near Caleb slowly moved away, either trying to allow the colonel to walk toward the fight or moving away from him to prevent repercussions.

Even with the colonel's orders and the silence of the crowd, the four soldiers did not back down from the fight. Caleb's scowl deepened. In a matter of seconds, the four soldiers are either on their backs or their knees with the colonel looking down at them. The soldiers around them dropped their jaws to see their own colonel just singlehandedly stopped a fight.

"You five," Caleb looked at the four soldiers on the ground then to the captain, "Office. Now."

Without another word, Caleb left the scene to go back into his office, leaving the lingering coldness of his presence on the scene.

Caleb glowered at the five people present in his office.

"If I see you four in another fight-"

"Sir, he attacked-" One of the soldiers tried to defend himself.

"Do not interrupt me." Although his face looked calm, his voice sounded extremely threatening and the whole room felt like it had dropped several degrees. "I expect you four to be on your best behavior. I better not get any reports about you four. Do you understand?"

The soldiers quickly nodded their heads. They didn't know which was better, being yelled at by a superior or being disciplined by this colonel who looked like he would skin them all before murdering them.

"You're dismissed." The soldiers scrambled out the door. When the captain made an attempt to leave, Caleb called out, "You stay."

The captain gulped before standing straight before the colonel.

"The next time you decide to call me to solve this type of issue for you, I expect your badge on my desk promptly."

"Yes, sir."

"Get out."

The captain didn't need to be told twice as he left the office as soon as Caleb told him to leave. Caleb sighed and rubbed his temple. The workload had been ridiculous. As the time ticked on, the entire building slowly turned quiet. All the soldiers and officers had already left work. Caleb checked the time to see it had been nearly midnight. He sighed before heading out of his office to call it a day.

Caleb wasn't particularly excited to go back home. Whenever you weren't in Skyhaven, his house felt empty and lonely. However, today, the house seemed a bit more lively than usual. Several lamps were turned on and he heard a voice and movement inside one of the bedrooms.

"Ugh, I swear I brought some over!" Caleb immediately recognized that voice belonged to you.

He quickly shut the door before calling out to her, "MC?" He quickly stripped out of his uniform that his lover disliked so much.

Without missing a single beat, you ran out of your bedroom and hugged him, "Caleb! Welcome home!"

"I didn't know you were staying." He hugged you back, tightly. "I would've prepared dinner."

You gasped, "Ooo, that does sound good. It's okay, Caleb. I didn't even know I was getting a few days off. Captain Jenna told me to take the weekends off since there have been way too many people to call in for the shift this weekend. So I thought to spend my weekend with you!"

All the fatigue Caleb felt back in the office immediately left him. He felt anew and recharged. You leaned in closer and narrowed your eyes. It was hard to see, but you could see a faint dark circle under his eyes, it's hard to tell without getting very close.

"Caleb?" you frowned, "are you alright?"

Caleb raised an eyebrow, "Yes. Why?"

"Well," You gently caressed the skin under his eyes. "You look tired."

Caleb sighed, "When did you become this observant."

"If I'm not that observant then what kind of hunter would I be."

Caleb chuckled as you used a similar quote he had used before. "Alright, fine, fine. The paperwork was a handful, but don't worry. I'm fiiiiine."

You narrowed her eyes, slightly suspicious, "I don't believe you."

"What should I do to make you believe me?"

You beamed, "I have something in mind."

"I'm all ears."

"No explaining, just listen to my instructions."

"Yes, colonel." Caleb teased.

"Pipsqueak. When you said you had something in mind, this is not what I'm expecting." Caleb nervously chuckled.

You squeezed a bottle of shampoo onto your hand, "shush. Let me take care of you." You lathered the shampoo onto his hair and gently massaged his scalp. "You took care of me many times before, let me do it at least once." You poked his cheek, "Lay down, I can't reach you."

Caleb obediently did what you asked and lay his head back. "I never thought there would be a day where I get pampered instead of the one doing the pampering."

You chuckled, "Well, expect more pampering in the future. Close your eyes."

You inwardly chuckled when Caleb once again obediently did what you asked, like a cute little puppy. "Alright, I'm done with your hair. Finish washing yourself, and I'll wait for you outside."

Caleb smiled, "What else do you have in store for me?"

"You'll see," You said before closing the door.

It didn't take long for Caleb to finish washing. In fact, it wasn't even three minutes, and he was already done, already dressed in his pajamas.

"Caleb, what the fuck? I was just in there."

"Yes, and I'm out here now."

"In three minutes?"

Caleb looked at you in confusion. "Yes?"

"How?"

Caleb shrugged, "Sometimes things happen in the fleet, so I gotta shower quickly, or else my subordinates would see me doing drills naked."

You blinked, trying to process it before laughing at the idea of naked Caleb barking orders.

Caleb playfully narrowed his eyes, "I see your imagination is going wild."

You wiped my tears while gesturing him to sit down, "I'll dry your hair."

Caleb sat down and looked at you questionably. "I think you're trying to start something."

You grabbed the hair dryer and turned it on, "You're overthinking it." While drying his hair, you tried to fluff up his hair as much as possible, trying to give him a new hairstyle. The most ridiculous style you can ever think of.

"What are you doing?" Caleb asked, clearly knowing what your intentions are.

You giggled, "Nothing, just trying to make you fluffy."

"I'm not a dog." The way Caleb acted, he might as well be born in the year of the dog.

It didn't take long for his hair to dry. Sadly, his hair did not fluff up the way you wanted it to be. Guess his hair is just as stubborn as their owner.

You tossed the air dryer to the side and pushed Caleb toward you. "Lean on me, let me massage your shoulders." You pressed down on his shoulder, kneeling around his tense muscles. You can feel Caleb feeling relaxed because he's starting to put his entire weight on you. After several minutes, you feel like he's going to nod off, so you poke his cheek, "Let's do your face."

"What's wrong with my face?" Caleb sounded slightly sleepy.

You rolled your eyes, "Nothing, but it'll feel nice. I promise."

Caleb slowly stood up, "Sure sure. You're the boss."

You dragged Caleb into his bedroom, and made sure he was nice and comfortable under the blanket before putting on the face mask.

"You know, I remember when you forced me to wear face masks while we were in high school. You even used me as a guinea pig for your skincare and makeup."

"Do you not like them?"

"No, I like them."

"Good, now close your eyes. Perhaps you'll achieve what all women wanted: a glass skin."

"If I have that, I'd lose respect from all my subordinates."

"Good," You sat next to him. "Maybe you won't appear that scary under that uniform." You grabbed a book that he was reading and started to hum a tune.

The book Caleb is reading is a lot different than what you would read. It's all about the different models of a plane. Most of which you don't even understand.

"Caleb, what would your next career plan be if you didn't become a pilot?" Would he be an engineer instead? You waited for an answer but no response from Caleb. "Caleb?" You looked over at him to see him fast asleep. His eyes are closed and his breaths are even.

You smiled at his innocent sleeping face as you slowly peeled the mask from his face. "I wish I had your skin. One face mask and you look several years younger."

You quietly and slowly slid out of the bed to turn off all the lights before sliding back under the blanket with him. "Good night."

The first thing that stirred Caleb awake was the smell. The smell smelled... delicious. He can smell the egg, the butter, and the meat. Then he heard a tune, the same tune he heard last night before he passed out. He slowly blinked awake, allowing his eyes to adjust to the morning light.

He slowly left his bed and followed the smell and the music that led him toward the kitchen. He smiled as he watched you doing small dances as you placed the food onto the plate. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheeks which made you jump.

"Caleb! You scared me!"

Caleb chucked, "Good morning, love."

"Good morning. Slept well?"

Caleb nodded. He slept very well last night. The first time where he didn't wake himself up from nightmares.

"I made breakfast. I also made your lunch, if you're interested. If not, I'll just eat it my-"

"Thank you, I'll take them all."

You smiled, "Want me to make dinner tonight?"

Caleb hummed, "Yes, please."

Caleb felt like he was living in paradise. No matter how much work he needed to do, as long as he know that you'll be the one welcoming him home, work doesn't sound as bad.

Boy, was he wrong. The moment he got into his office, he was ready to murder every single person in this building. Because the first damn thing that happened as soon as he went to work, an emergency happened. Because someone can't read a fucking manual, causing a domino effect which then made it into an emergency.

Dividers, headers, banners, and templates used on this post are from @uzmacchiato

#love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #caleb fic #caleb #lads caleb #lnds caleb #lads #lnds

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creole-cappy · 2 hours ago

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While much of this (particularly the parts about many men's unwillingness to mature and value women respectfully and compassionately) are true, as another voice in the world, I would like to add that there's obviously cultural/value differences at play in the shaping of these dynamics as well.

I agree that the male loneliness "epidemic" is almost entirely self-imposed, but let's not forget that the trends of women's reactions and responses to their treatment by men is just as direct or indirect as men's reactions and responses to their treatment by women, with the added influence of socialization, economic stability (because why wouldn't feelings of existential security affect social attitudes and personal priorities?) and any relevant kind of abuse or manipulation people face at large in both cases.

The patriarchal ideas of social norms affect everyone equally damagingly. It serves neither men nor women for people not to be able to trust and respect each other. Men are very obviously in a cultural/cross-cultural trial of sorts, THANKS TO the liberalization of social norms that countered the fascistic, patriarchal trend of women (and children) being the property of men. That is where the entitlement comes from. It's not the more liberal values that encourage entitlement, it's clinging to ideas of women as means to an end that supports their commodification in things like porn for instance. If anything, the divergence from men being "providers" is a humanization of their being and something which (rightfully imo) supports their emotional autonomy and maturity as humans with natural rights. It's not good to treat women OR men as simply means to an ends.

Never used dating apps much, never really cared to involve myself in "hook-up culture". It seems to be vapid and the driving force behind the situationship problem where people can't openly attach to one another while acknowledging they truly desire emotional intimacy. I won't speak much on it because that's just something I know little about. The comments about the "DL epidemic" also seem just like an opinionated distaste for non-hetero norms. If it's not your thing, why bother with it? (What's odd to me is I hear FAR more about women's non heteronormative trends in recent times, but again, never really substantiated with research or something to make it more than anecdotal claims)

Regardless of how anyone feels or thinks, if men and women can't find a way to manage maturity and respect, everyone's gonna feel the consequences. Men in particular have to really see this manosphere bs for what it is (narcissistic misogyny) and understand their mother is a very significant relative who is NOT a model for how all women should be seen or related to.

@ men, grow up, actually tap into those feelings you were trained to ignore, humble yourself, stop trying to be kings and superheroes and start being good friends and kind people.

The parental-relationship thing also goes for women and their fathers. Treating a man like a security measure is a sure way to embody the exact same kind of narcissism, entitlement, and lack of compassion that causes men to treat women like toys and breeding tubes. You're not obligated to respect somebodies choices without your own boundaries, but you are obligated to acknowledge their humanity and their struggle to make something out of their life. This is everybody's first time on earth. Neither women nor men can cherry pick what parts of the patriarchy are "good" for them and get away with it. It was explicitly made to destroy emotional maturity and trust, because that (compassion and trust) is not what superiority looks like. So if a man is a pathetic pos and a danger to others, other men should check him and keep that ego small. If a woman is entitled and emotionally abusive to the men in her life, I'd like to ask other women to find a way to help each other not ruin your own chances for healthy relationships and happiness. It takes two to tango. It takes a village to raise a child.

Since we have to deal with the influences from others, we may as well start adding some positive influences into the equation ourselves. If you aren't sure what that looks like, now's always a good time to learn. My recommendations to anyone who wants to make sure they have the healthiest relationships, romantic or not, are to learn about your attachment style, learn about your personal or cultural values and the dynamics that support them, to think about your childhood and figure out what you learned or internalized from it, and lastly, to really ask yourself if you want mutual respect or power over others. If the solution to you is wielding power against men/women, I hope you know why.

Tldr, a lot of men are fucked up and it's their fault they aren't getting better, but maturity takes learning and effort. Many women (probably less egregiously common than the men) are also immature af and the cause of their own problems if they refuse to learn & grow. Discriminate accordingly for your personal relationships. Don't look to people you don't like for connection, and don't act like being narcissistic is gonna make you happy.

P*rn, dating apps/hook up culture, and 50/50 normalization are the three main culprits as to why the men of this generation seem so different than men from previous ones, and why so many beautiful and accomplished women are unable to secure a relationship without settling. Men always had their issues collectively, but it was never to the degree that we see today, and it’s largely due to the normalization from an early age to those three things.

The brains of men these days have been wired in a completely overly s3xualized manner. They don’t view women as people but as objects of strict desire and nothing else. Consumption of p*rn has not only given them unrealistic expectations of intimacy, it has influenced their s3xual orientations (see DL epidemic), and their social behaviour. Nowadays many don’t find regular girls attractive, which is why they choose to engage in “taboo” activities to feel some arousal. This leads them to becoming socially inept and to falling easy prey to manosphere content that only reinforces the objectification and dehumanization of women.

Dating apps then come in as an easy way for these men get the illusion of options, because while they might be generally not attractive, in the apps they get instant access to women they otherwise would never have in real life. And because many women have become desperate, by entertaining these men and giving them easy access to their bodies, the men no longer feel like they have to improve and work on themselves to attract a quality partner. It also gives them the idea that women are disposable because at any point they can ghost them for no reason and then swipe right to get another one. It makes them devalue access to us.

This easy access is then transferred to their expectations of relationships. They abuse the concept of equality to manipulate women into financially abusive arrangements where she’s expected to provide fiscally while also performing her feminine duties and taking care of a grown, able-bodied man. Naturally this continues to reinforce men’s lack of respect and gratitude for women in their lives, while increasing their own sense of self-importance, narcissism, ineptitude, and ungratefulness.

Obviously women are not responsible for the actions of men, but we do have the power to not reinforce and condone their sick ways. By deleting dating apps, standing our ground when we oppose 50/50 dating, and choosing to remain abstinent until marriage, we are taking the power dynamics back to our advantage. No, you are not unreasonable for not wanting to be with a man who consumes p*rn, or who wants to be sexually fluid with other men, or who views red pill content that dehumanizes you, or seems unwilling to provide things for you and cherish you in his life. It’s on you to stand firm in your decision to only entertain the gentlemen whose mindsets haven’t been completely fried by modern societal trends.

The “male loneliness epidemic” that we hear so much about is entirely self inflicted (not that anyone cares when it’s women who are lonely), and it’s a direct response to women saying no more to men who exhibit the behaviours outlined above. Hold the line, because they either leave their toxic ways and get better, or they will doom themselves to a life of solitude. Either way, that is their responsibility to fix, not yours.

#humanity #gender discourse #like 90% of this comes from cultural aesthetics #@ men #my thoughts

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ghostsandfools · 2 days ago

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Okay guys. Okay. OKAY.

I just went back and watched a couple of the astral related episodes that have released in the past few months and I have a LOT to say.

I don’t think we realize how messed up the astrals truly are. Like, they seem to have noble goals and all, but oh my goodness.

Okay, lets walk through Lunar’s entire life story real quick:

The first episode of TSAMS came out on March 24, 2022. That was a little less than three years ago now. Let’s just keep that in mind.

When Lunar was created, his entire purpose was to serve Eclipse. I’ll be honest, I’m not too familiar with early TSAMS. I joined the fandom a bit late. But Lunar underwent constant emotional and sometimes physical abuse from Eclipse. He was constantly belittled, made to feel worthless, and in the end, Eclipse killed him in front of somebody he cared about. His entire purpose was to serve Eclipse, and suddenly that purpose had been taken away from him.

Lunar was remade in space, granting him the ability to use star power. Gemini then came down to Earth to evaluate if he was a threat and train him in the ways of star power. In the very first episode they appear in, Castor asks Earth to “please leave Lunar alone and stop talking to him.” Earth obviously refuses, but this interaction is still interesting. It’s strange that their first instinct was to try isolating him from his closest family.

Castor and Pollux began training Lunar and eventually becoming closer with him. Lunar was freaked out at first, and it seems like he didn’t really enjoy his training at first, but eventually it kind of took over his life. Star power was his entire purpose. And when he began to develop feelings for Gemini, it only became a bigger part of his life. His personality and goals for the future revolved completely around star power. It was his new purpose in life.

Lunar messes up a couple of times and begins to fear what will happen if he lets his power get out of control. First he attacks Bloodmoon, then kills Eclipse. Killing Eclipse was the especially interesting event here. Afterwards, Gemini makes it very clear to him how much he’s fucked up. They tell him his life could be on the line, that the other astrals want him DEAD, and they seem to be withholding their affection. They don’t spend as much time with him, saying they’re busy with his court case. Killing someone is a bad thing to do, so it makes sense for Gemini to distance themself, but I think we should remember this.

And then, it just stops. Taurus tells him that if he can’t move on from his trauma with Eclipse, he can’t continue to train.

This is detrimental to him. He doesn’t know what to do without a purpose. Eclipse abused him, but he also gave him something to do. He gave him someone to be. His entire identity was serving Eclipse. And now, he thought he had moved on from that. He had a new purpose now, to serve Gemini, to train as an astral and make everyone proud. And now he’s suddenly being told that he can’t anymore? That if he doesn’t get over his trauma (which is exceptionally difficult to do) he won’t be able to train anymore?

And so he makes a mistake. Another very big mistake. He pursues negative star power, he hurts Earth, he’s temporarily shunned by his family. It’s a big mess, he goes to jail, he’s put on trial.

And do you know what Libra does to punish him? She finds him guilty and takes away his star power.

So… This whole time. This entire time, they could’ve taken his powers away. And yet, they didn’t. Why is that? Why is it that they let someone like him, who has been shown to lose control, keep these powers?

Alright. Let’s take a look at the astrals. Let’s take a look at what they’re really doing here, because I think it’s interesting.

I’ve talked about this before, but the astrals operate like a cult.

Lunar is traumatized. He is emotionally broken and he has no idea what to do with his life. He’s just experienced death and lost his purpose in life, and now he has no idea what to do. And all of the sudden, the astrals appear.

Cults will often prey on people who are going through a rough time, as they’re much easier to manipulate and control. Not only that, but when they did appear on Earth, as I mentioned earlier, Castor asked Earth to “stop talking to Lunar” so they could evaluate if he was a threat. Cults will often isolate their victims away from their family and friends. Obviously they didn’t go through with this step, Lunar kept in contact with his family during his training, but it’s clear the astrals will use isolation as a way to control people. Remember when Nebula tried to befriend Earth and Taurus immediately scolded her for stepping out of line?

Next, they trained Lunar. They told him he’d have to leave behind this life on Earth, that he had a bigger purpose now. He wasn’t just an Earthling anymore, he was special. He could become somebody noteworthy if he trained hard enough. And they got closer to him, went on a vacation with him, spent time with him. Eventually they even pursued a romantic relationship with him.

But during this time, it was clear that they weren’t being completely honest with him. If he asked to many questions they’d say “you aren’t far enough into your training to know that yet.” They’d withhold information from him, yet another method often used by cults. They kept him enticed with the promise of something more. If he could get his emotions under control, if he was just a bit stronger, maybe Gemini would like him then. Maybe then they could be fully honest with him. Maybe then he’d be truly worthy.

They stayed committed to him. When he was in trouble, they went to court for him. They trained him diligently, stood up for him, they were always by his side. They cared for him.

And then, of course, disaster struck. They stopped training him. Lunar felt lost, he made a mistake, he had everything taken away from him. He lost his family, his friends, his partner. His entire life fell apart.

But think about why this all happened. They could’ve taken his power away. They could’ve come down to Earth, taken his powers away immediately, and been done with it all. None of this needed to happen.

I don’t think Lunar was justified when he killed Eclipse, and I don’t think it was okay for him to attack Earth either. Trauma isn’t an excuse to hurt people. But Lunar hasn’t had a break within the last two years.

First it was Eclipse, then the astrals, Bloodmoon, Nexus. He was abused every day for years, he died, he was brought back and began spiraling into depression, and then he was indoctrinated into a cult. Now he’s messing around with dark star power and getting himself into trouble.

And even now, he’s trying to be better. He’s been torturing himself, putting himself in that machine Moon made where he listens to his loved ones berate and verbally abuse him. Why? So he can impress Gemini. So he can have a purpose again.

TSAMS is the kind of show that’s meant to go on for a long time. The action has to happen FAST! But because of all the fast paced action, Lunar has been in multiple traumatic situations with no real breaks for two straight years now, and i think it’s messed up. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s trying his best. I feel bad for him.

#Wow that’s a lot of words #I haven’t watched laes in a while #So this might all be wrong #But the astral are definitely a cult #I will die on this hill #if you read all of this. I’m impressed with your attention span #the lunar and earth show #sun and moon show #laes #sams #tsams #laes lunar

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hookedonhuge · 11 hours ago

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make a story with a lot of bloating and belches please

Here we go! Ended up putting in more effort than planned, haha. Aches and Gains: What the hell… where am I? Who are all these huge men walking around? Oh that’s right, the gym. I was working out wasn’t I? Yeah, my muscles feel really sore, must have been a killer workout. Pushing myself to my absolute limit, what a legend I am.

Who is this? Someone waving. Oh they are worried. Don’t worry, haha, I’m fine. UURRP! I just take this place seriously, that's all. Needed a quick rest. Vision’s still a little blurry but I’m getting there.

Now where was I? Just finished a set or did I finish my whole workout? Yeah I’m so sore I must be done. Especially my abs, they are really tight. I guess it was a core day. BUURRP! Oh that feels much better. I can get up now.

Whoo! I’m starting to feel alive again. Let's check out my pump in the mirror. Bet I’m looking real huge today. This shirt is kinda hard to get off, it’s so tight. Must be a crazy pump. Ah, there we go!

What the?! I’m freakin’ huge but… why have I lost so much definition?! My belly is so damn bloated! That’s okay, just my protein shake kicking in. No problem. Damn, look at the pecs on me though! Jealous of these bad boys, losers? Hahaha! King of the gym today. UUURRRP! I was already big and now I’m even bigger! URP!

I keep belching. Kinda weird but it relieves the pressure in my belly. I just need to get it all out, and find my abs again, haha. BUUUUURRRRRP! What are they all looking at? Goddamn greatness, that’s what. Oh don’t give me that pissy look staff, this place might as well be mine anyway.

I still haven’t relieved all the pressure in my gut. Aaaahhh! It hurts so much. UUURRRP! It’s like I’m inflating. I can’t get it out quick enough. BUUUURRRRP! Yeah, I know everyone, I don’t want to burp this much, okay. Geez. Everyone is on my case today. Oh great, now a staff member is coming up to me. This is unbelievable, I haven’t done anything wrong. Oh… my protein shake. Yeah guess I left it back there. Thanks. URRPP!

That cleared some room for a bit more protein shake. Bottoms up. Tastes so good. I’m so hungry too. Can’t stop myself from chugging it all. UUUUUUURRRRRRRP! That hit the spot. Hope y’all can smell that, it reeks of stale protein, hahaha. Deserve it for being so judgy.

God! I can feel myself getting bigger. Yes! I’m growing so much, so huge. My gut though… I look like I’ve eaten a five-course meal… twice. Aaaaaahhhhh! So much pressure… need to get it out… now!

BUUUUUUURRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPP!

Looks like I caught someone with that point blank. Looks like they might pass out too. Hey, want another one? UUUURRRRP! Hahahaha! Take this! BUUUUURRRRRP!

WOW! Just caught myself in the reflection and damn! I’m so big, I’m jealous of myself. Look at these huge guns. Boom! This chest keeps getting bigger too. And my back, chef’s kiss. So goddamn wide and perfect! Legs looking thick too! I’m such a beast, let's go! Who cares if I’ve got a big, bloated belly. Bigger is better right. I’d take it any day with these gains. BUUUURRRRAAAAP!

I’m starting to get used to these burps. Feels so nice when I let them out. Like a lion’s roar. So manly. UUUUUUURRRRRRRAAAAAAAP! Is this too disgusting for all of you? Well bad luck. BUUURRRP! I’ve got a lot more coming! BAAAAUUUURRRRP! Let me show you all what a beast like me sounds like…

BWWWWWWOOOOOOUUUUUURRRRRRAAAAAAUUUUUUPPP!

Hahahahaha! This entire gym reeks now! Oh look here, we have a big, strong man coming up to start a fight. I’m the king of this gym, okay bro. Wait, not looking for a fight. Complimenting me? Hell yeah! This big guy gets it. New gym buddy right over here. What’s this? A protein shake. Thanks bro, I actually feel like I need another one.

This is UURRP unbelievable, how BUURRP can a protein OOUURRP taste so damn UURRP good? What has BOOOUUUURRRP he put in this UUURRRP thing? No seriously what is in it? Nevermind. Just a bro helping another bro out by giving him some fuel.

Time to leave. Not sure if this gym can handle me for much longer. This employee at the reception looks pissed, haha. Well I’m gonna tell him what’s on my mind.

BUUUURRRRP-OOOOUUUURRRRAAAAAP-BWWWWWOOOOOUUUUURRRRRP!

Don’t think I’ll need to pay to get in anymore.

#muscle fiction #muscle tf #muscle god #cocky muscle #muscle #hot pecs #eproctophilia #male burp #gay fiction #gay story #bulking #male tf #gay tf

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yanderes-galore · 1 day ago

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Haru and legoshi (Bestars) Team-up (Romantic/Platonic)

I'll try my best, sure! Hope you enjoy :) Sorry if it's lame, I kept running out on ideas. When I do share pairs it's always a hit or miss for me :/

Yandere! Haru + Legoshi Sharing a Darling

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Minor violence, Stalking, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Despite their sometimes rocky relationship, these two genuinely love one another.

Haru often likes to make her opinion known and can be stubborn while Legoshi tries to prevent conflict.

Honestly, their dynamic is the opposite of what you'd expect of their species.

I feel like what comes to mind for me is these two sharing an herbivore obsession.

Even better if you're also a rabbit?

However, these two could share a different herbivore or even a carnivore if you want instead of what I had in mind.

Due to how vague the request is there's many possibilities of how them sharing could go.

The two are both considered 'outcasts' due to how they act.

So imagine if you're also an outcast for one reason or another?

The two would be understanding towards you if you were also isolated.

The two seem like they'd be very sweet towards you as their newest companion.

You'd be in a little group with them, no doubt aware of their situation.

You don't mind as long as the two aren't hurting one another.

I feel the two are more likely to share an obsession platonically due to how involved they are with one another.

You're a fellow outcast of theirs who probably participates in both of their clubs since you're friends with them.

Sometimes you help Haru with the gardening club, sometimes Legoshi joins in.

Other times you help with the drama club through volunteering.

You just want to connect with the two.

Plus, due to what happens in the story yet also preventing spoilers, it's probably good they have another animal to support them.

Romance might be more rare for them but still possible.

They're already kinda judged for their relationship... making you their third would have to be a secret.

A thinly veiled secret but a secret nonetheless.

After all, the two like doing nearly everything with you.

People would notice.

In terms of their yandere types...?

Haru can be stern at times but doesn't typically harm anyone.

She's protective of you if you're an herbivore yet also helps you stand up for yourself.

I don't think she's easily jealous but it can certainly happen.

When it does she usually voices it.

Legoshi is also protective, but as a carnivore there's times he's possessive.

He's intimidating enough already so protecting you is easy.

Although, if you're an herbivore, he's careful not to harm you.

Both of them can be manipulative.

It's hard to see them both as very intense yanderes because I can't see them both as all that violent?

The most I see the dynamic is Haru defending you verbally and Legoshi defending you physically.

It's not like they're a very violent or possessive duo.

They both just want you by their side.

In terms of how the sharing starts, it seems rather simple.

They probably met you in a school club.

That or you offer to help during the Tem murder case, which would have you meet Legoshi and Haru through him?

Honestly there isn't much of a rivalry that occurs to get them to share.

It's more like when they both find out they like you... They're surprised and then start discussing.

They both couldn't believe they were both keeping an eye on you.

Haru was doing it probably because you were a fellow small herbivore or even a small carnivore.

Legoshi was doing it for a similar reason due to him always feeling protective of those smaller than him.

Since they both love one another and they're both concerned for you one way or another...

Sharing seems to make the most sense.

This leads to them both befriending you and accepting you into their little group.

The two still enjoy privacy with one another, yet even then they find themselves talking about you.

They may even ask each other to keep an eye on you, which leads to both of them... 'stalking'....

Haru's stalking seems more like a rabbit wanting to protect a friend.

While Legoshi's can seem... scary if someone catches wind of him doing it as a carnivore.

Imagine if after season 2, when Legoshi leaves school, he frequently contacts Haru to give updates on you?

After all, you and Haru still go to classes together for the most part.

While Legoshi's away, unable to see you unless away from school, Haru ends up being the one around you the most.

The two like that you don't judge them, so they don't judge you.

In fact, they make sure no one does.

Even if they choose to make you their third in their inter-species couple, they make sure no one makes you uncomfortable.

If someone did, one of them would solve the issue.

Don't underestimate Haru, she's true to herself and wants you to be too.

Safe to say you won't deal with bullies for long, or anything similar.

In fact, it would not surprise me if one of them hurt someone to defend you.

Haru never seems to feel bad about it.

Sure, some blood might stain her fur for a bit, but she'll find a way to remove it.

Legoshi wouldn't feel guilty if he hurt someone for you either.

The two probably handle different threats.

Legoshi tends to deal with carnivores, Haru tends to deal with herbivores.

Oof, Haru would not stand for her previous bullies picking on you either.

Is there much mess or blood when it comes to them? Not usually.

Even if there is, you don't typically see it.

The two wouldn't kidnap you either.

Why would they? They have a lot going on and even if they're jealous they can easily distract you.

For example, why are you hanging out with someone else?

Your two best friends/partners already have something big planned after school.

They're manipulative when sharing since they usually try to avoid violent conflict.

You won't want to leave either, right?

So what if they seem to isolate you from others?

There's a lot of weird events around Cherryton... They're just looking out for you.

These two would make their obsession feel accepted when they share.

After all, you're an outcast too, aren't you?

Why would you leave the two animals who truly accept you?

#yandere beastars #yandere beastars x reader #yandere legoshi #yandere haru

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gangstalkerbarbie · 3 days ago

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You know maybe this is like a cultural thing but I don't have a man to look after, right, and I'm fulfilled running my household, personally. I find it fulfilling same as anybody else, because yeah, it is inherently fulfilling. It's inherently fulfilling to have a place of my own, over which I have executive authority. In principle I enjoy keeping it tidy, maintaining it, looking after it, and one day I want to bring children into it.

It's my responsibility, which is why in theory I should have the opportunity to go to work to make money in order to take care of it. To have that opportunity, it needs to exist under the law, and I need to be able to theoretically acquire employable skills and then get employed, whether I like working and want to do it or not (I don't, if I could be a lady of leisure I would be, but even ladies of leisure have incomes — just passive ones grown from inherited money).

If you want to do fulfilling things, you need to get money from somewhere to afford to do them, and generally speaking you need the freedom to go and get money in order to consolidate your buns and get up to go get money. Unless another class of people exists that can do it for you, but is it fair to put that on men? They crack under the pressure, you know?

They usually make more than women for the same work, but in this economy it's generally exhausting to try to support a family by yourself regardless of your gender, it's just mildly more so for most women unless they have men that know how to help keep house. I'm a lesbian personally, so my wife and I don't have gendered expectations between us that our egos ride on, but men and women both equally want to be good spouses, and some elements of the traditional expectations around that are confining for everyone.

The reason people object to these influencers isn't because after millions of years of female animals maintaining dens, it's suddenly against women's best interests to live in and run houses. We're going to be doing that until the sun dies.

It's just, in what conditions? If you have a person that loves you and brings you money, freeing you not to work so that you can focus on taking care of the house you love, that's an undisputed good, but health isn't eternal and a lot of people don't.

A lot of people these days choose bad men and then end up trapped with them because they looked for husbands all their teen years instead of studying to do well paying work that could support them and some hypothetical children, in case it went wrong. The danger isn't the advertisement of domestic labour as fulfilling, which at some point you have to grow up and learn to romanticise because you'll be doing it until you die, it's the dishonesty about the economics of householding towards economically illiterate people. In the working class, unless you want to end up in the precariat, even most homemaking women have to work.

That's why intelligent women in very patriarchal or poor or unstable countries are so often doctors, lawyers and engineers. It doesn't pay as much as it pays men, and maybe they don't all even like the job, but it pays enough. They study hard to make sure that in case they chose wrong and made children with someone who abuses children, they can leave under their own power and still provide the children with a good life. They want to make sure that if something happens to the man they love (many people do have happy marriages to men they love, and I hope yours is a beautiful one), they can catch him when he falls and he doesn't have to become a dark statistic.

The advice I give people also from cultures that do this (I grew up orthodox jewish) is don't even think of having your marriage arranged unless you can afford to feed and house yourself, a man and two kids, because you never know, you know? You could need to divorce him, or he could be the most perfectly loving partner in the world and get hit by a car and paralyzed from the waist down. There are ways to lose a man's income that can't be avoided by not being a feminist, and then — poverty, a spiral of mutual resentment, both of you screaming at each other in front of the children.

Is that really aspirational? That's what cute cottagecore TikToks don't show you.

It's much easier to be able to be there for your kids and keep your house if there are two people working, but the world doesn't owe anyone that - anything could happen.

And then suddenly it matters if you don't have the freedom to get an education, or freedom from having to stay with a man that hits you because you couldn't afford to feed yourself and your babies on the salary of someone who didn't go to school. Nothing about law school or lawyering is fulfilling for anyone, but men and women both do it to afford to give their kids a better future than they had.

Responsibility is fulfilling, but it always entails other, less fulfilling responsibility, you know? And a mother will do anything for her children, but I think before they even exist it's her responsibility to make sure she can feed them. It makes for happier families when a household forms from two separate people who each have their own income, and if anything happens to your husband, he should be able to rely on you. The best thing you can do for your family is to be able to look them in the eyes and promise them it will be okay, and you don't have to use the freedom that you have to do that but it's good to have, isn't it? To know it's possible?

influencers actively trying to convince young women to aspire to unemployment and servitude is literally so sinister

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dramaticallytotal · 13 hours ago

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For Your Entertainment

Oh my god, another TDWT au???? Whaaaaaat?

Yep.

I will not apologize UwU

This au will feature Chaos Gremlin Noah. We've seen in canon he genuinely enjoys chaos and drama as long as it's not involving him, and I wanted to focus a whole fic around that. In this one, he is way more apathetic than in my other aus, and he is really only friends with Team E-Scope and Owen. So he really doesn't care what happens to anyone besides his friends in the competition.

Him being a little Chaos Gremlin is why he has managed to be Chris McLean's longest standing employee ever. They get on like a house on fire. Chris is arguably a king of chaos, so I just love the idea of him emotionally adopting little chaos gremlin Noah and bonding with him. In this au, Chris does tell Noah about having to fire him, and of course, they plan to stage it while Noah helps budget and take inventory of everything they will need for the new season. He is also publicly helping with the fake show, so it looks like he has no idea about the new season. There are some interns and crew who would love to snitch to the producers on him and Chris if they caught wind of their plans.

Noah is the one who selected and approved Alejandro, being the newest competitor as well as one of the fake stars of Dirtbags. If anything else, the guy will stir things up and make things entertaining for Noah while he pretends to be lazy and useless. But Noah and Chris agreed that he would embrace his original marketed title as Schemer. And he's all for it, as long as it keeps him entertained.

A bored Noah is a dangerous Noah. Chris found this out the hard way. (He never thought he would have to talk a teen out of actively blackmailing a very successful producer in the company, but well, life is full of surprises).

Noah knows all the challenges because he helped plan some! He was very proud of himself. Oh, he made sure things were safe but just barely, I mean, he doesn't want to end up hurt or dead in these challenges, so he had to make some safety features and everything. It's weird, but Noah actually feels...excited about the new season. Oh, and he left Chris some of his blackmail material in case they producers want to change anything or are being assholes. They had been planning on buying out the company, and Noah thinks this is the perfect chance. Chris will run the show how he wants, and when he gets complaints, some anonymous "interns" will leak the messages, emails, or calls and show the viewers just how fucked up and corrupt the producers are. This plan has been a year in the making.

Which is a long time for one of Noah's plans to take off, but they want to do this right and come out the winners/heroes.

The day of the plan dawns, and Noah is practically trembling in excitement, but he's had a lot of practice pushing down his real emotions (thanks, Mason). He played his role perfectly all up to the bus rescue. He thankfully was able to get Eva to stay by pretending to fall asleep, but he knew she knew he wasn't sleeping. The trust she has for him has him feeling all warm and fuzzy. He loves Eva. She's basically his ninth sister. Beth ended up staying, too, because Lindsay wanted to paint her best friends nails, and that absolutely could not wait.

The rescue happened, and finally, they were on the bus to the plane. Eva wanted the window seat, and Noah would give it to her since she stayed. Plus, the aisle seat was perfect for observing everyone and seeing what was going on. It looks like Harold and Leshawna were off again, which was not surprising, which would mean a small amount of entertainment for Noah. Then there was the whole Gwen, Courtney, Duncan thing that had Noah holding back a smile. That whole train wreck would bring him so much entertainment.

But who really had his attention was Mr. New Guy. Oh, he knew his name, Alejandro, but he had to pretend he didn't. He could already hear the giggles from the girls who thought he was attractive, and he could already hear the boys grumbling. Noah made sure to give a comment or two about he hoped Mr. New Guy wouldn't just be another Justin, which made some laugh, and Courtney glared at him. Oh yeah, he forgot those two were friends. He also caught the slight smirk from Alejandro before the boy suppressed it.

The competition began, and Noah was surprised that Ezekiel made it, but with Duncan up and quitting (goodbye love triangle drama), it made sense that they had to even out the teams. So, the first challenge became a reward. Boring.

He saw the way Alejandro had flirted with the girls, specifically Bridgette and Leshawna. Which probably meant they were his first targets. Oh, that was fun~!

And he could help move things along! And if, by doing so, he got rid of Harold, even better! So he made sure to make comments about Leshawna falling for Alejandro when he was close to Harold. Or he would make sure to act disgusted at the cultural insensitivity (yes. Noah will always be responsible for Harold's elimination XD). It got the ginger right where he wanted.

Then Harold was gone, and Noah knew it wasn’t all him given he had witnessed Alejandro talking to Harold a lot, and he caught on to the subtle manipulations. That guy was good!

Then the Yukon happened, and he knew he didn't hide his glee at seeing Bridgette stuck to a pole well, given the look Alejandro had given him.

"Good work." He whispered with a snicker to Alejandro.

"I'm not sure what you mean mi amigo." Of course the guy would play dumb but whatever.

"Hmm. Whatever you say." He tried to be blasé but the wide smile then kept growing on his face was probably a dead giveaway of how he felt.

And maybe that's what shot him in the foot because the next day, Alejandro was flirting with him. Noah was pretty confident it was because Alejandro was scared he figured him out (he did) and was going to expose him or something. Like hell! This was the most fun he was having on a season. And if him acting coy or shy or flirting a little back with Alejandro had most of the females mad at him, so be it. It just made everything all the more entertaining to him.

He did hurt his ankle in the Yukon (this will always be canon to me), so pain medication was a must but he had been stubborn in not taking it because it either makes him drowsy or puts him right to sleep and he doesn't want to be voted out (and miss out on all the drama and fun) because he couldn't contribute much to the challenge. But Izzy, Owen, and Alejandro made him take the medication.

So, the next challenge, he was a little out of it, but Izzy or Owen carried him when there was running or walking. He was able to climb the rope at least, and he volunteered to be put in the baby carriage, which was fine by him. He fell asleep, which was not a surprise.

No being swapped with a baby, though, because Alejandro made Izzy guard Noah. Heather had planned on doing something but couldn't because even she was not crazy enough to go against Izzy.

It was a reward challenge, which was great! What was not great was the challenge in Germany! Noah wanted first class! He craved it! And he knew they had it in the bag the moment he saw Alejandro flirting with Leshawna again. He made sure to have discussions with Izzy when Leshawna was around and made it seem like he didn't know she was there.

"I mean, it's honestly pathetic. How obvious Heather's crush on Alejandro is." He drawled.

"Izzy knows!!! Girl has got it bad! I didn't think you'd notice it, though NoNo. You're not usually one to notice these things." Izzy gossiped as she tried to put Noah's hair into pigtails. She knew what he was doing and was all for it. He's her chaos brother!

"Normally, and this kills me to say, but normally you'd be right. But it's so obvious that even Owen has noticed, and that's saying something."

"I don't know, Owen is pretty good at knowing when someone likes someone."

"Agree to disagree."

"Is this about him trying to set you up with that-"

"We are not talking about that!" Well, no acting there was necessary. He did not want to talk about that disaster of a date. Ever.

"Well, it's not like Heather has realized it yet, which makes it all the more entertaining for us." This is why he loved Izzy. She knew when to drop things, she knew how to roll with his plans, and she liked chaos just as much if not more than him.

"True. I'm more worried about what she'd do because of said crush. Even if she doesn't realize it, she's already snapped at her teammates when he's flirted with Leshawna."

"Oh yeah! She definitely seems like one of those people who would do anything to get someone to back off her crush. Izzy knows."

"Mmm. You would seeing as you're the same way. Normally, I don't worry for anyone, but I can't help but feel bad for Leshawna."

"Why?"

"Because it's obvious Alejandro likes her, and we already established that Heather likes him, so it's not out of the realm of possibility that Heather will so or do something to come between the two."

"Oooooh."

He couldn't hold back his smirk when he heard Leshawna storm off, and Izzy immediately matched his with one of her own.

Then the challenge happened, and he played up not knowing what Alejandro was doing up until the guy purposefully lost the challenge. Once they were back in the plane, he immediately dragged the guy down to the cargo hold to confront him. He, of course, tried to deny everything and tried to flirt with Noah in the same breath. Noah was not having it.

With more strength than he thought himself capable of, he shoved the guy into the nearest wall. He had to look up, given he was only to the guy's chest (short king Noah, my beloved), but he poked him in his abs to get his attention.

"I don't care that you got into Harold's head and made him vote himself off. Mainly because I was getting into his head first. And I don't care that you helped and flirted with Bridgette enough to get her to make out with a pole! In fact, I thought it was hilarious." He admitted.

And just to see more of a reaction than just the wide green eyes he was staring into, Noah started walking his fingers up Alejandro's torso oh so slowly. It got the eyes off of him for a second, and he thought maybe he saw a blush forming, but those green eyes held his attention once more.

"And I even decided to be nice and help you get to Leshawna! I had to let Izzy mess with my hair! But it was all for the sake of getting entertainment, and you, sir, make a lot of it happen. So I was content to let you play your game."

His fingers reached Alejandro's bull necklace, which he wound his fingers around and tugged.

He didn't miss the gasp the boy in front of him breathed out, given how close they now were.

"But I'm not so content when your actions mess with my game. I don't like to lose when I know we had every opportunity to win and would have won had you not thrown. You may not think much of me, I mean, I did get out early in the first season. But then again, I manipulated my way into being thrown off. I was not about to spend my summer in that shitty camp. And so far I've been playing in the shadows this season."

Great. He was monologuing like some cheesy villain. But I mean...he was being paid to play a villain this season, so he might as well go all in.

"I'm keeping you around for my entertainment and amusement. Purposefully losing is not something I find amusing, so the next challenge you better give it your all or I'm going to have to really play and you don't want that." He hissed before leaning back and patting Alejandro's cheek and letting go of his necklace.

"Good talk." And with that, he sauntered out. That was fun!

He missed the absolute heart eyes Alejandro had been giving him.

__________

Basically, a villain Noah au, where Alejandro falls for him so hard. The two create an alliance and dominate the game, all the while Alejandro is trying to get Noah to date him. Noah thinks it's just Alejandro being Alejandro, but he does like him, and he thinks it's very funny that the guy can't handle when Noah flirts back with him.

Boy this got long.

Enjoy.

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