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#Who did not learn the lessons he was supposed to over the course of this adventure
y-rhywbeth2 · 6 months
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Assorted thoughts about Astarion's epilogue that I have only seen in video because patch 4 broke my save files and I have to replay the whole thing to get there.
From what I've seen everyone's good endings seem a little... overly good and free of consequence? But at the same time I haven't seen everything with my own eyes and everyone deserves to be happy, so whatever. If I want angst, there's fic.
Sooo... is it that unromanced Astarion disappeared after the scene at the docks and nobody could find him, or did you assholes just not try? I will be generous and assume the former.
Stop stabbing the table you little gremlin. ...although I'd probably enjoy doing that, if I could get away with it.
I still hate that outfit with the ruff.
Not surprised Larian is doubling down on the "no cure" angle. I don't really care if Astarion remains a vampire or if he goes the cure route, so long as he's happy - although I do think in his shoes I'd look for some way to day-walk anyway, on practical grounds alone.
Hiding a knife behind his back while asking an unromanced Durge if they're showing any signs of being under Bhaal's control... I adore a pragmatic bastard.
---"I could've told you that [you can kill people in a socially acceptable manner]" ---"You realise I don't actually pay attention when you talk, right?" ^This is why I both love him with all my soul and also want to push him off a roof.^
Delighted and validated by Astarion feeding by taking jobs as a bounty hunter or something like that. That was 100% what Vel was suggesting to him post game. Like "Hey, have you considered bounty hunting? if my memories of killing people for fun and profit, and the last month or two of everyone suddenly celebrating instead of getting mad when I murder has taught me anything; if you eat the people the majority want dead, you can have all the blood and money you can get your teeth into and nobody will have a problem with it."
And then there's Ascended Astarion... who I will put under a read more to save space and for those who'd like to avoid the uglier side of endings.
So I don't think Larian read the supplement Van RIchten's Guide to Vampires (it's from 1992, but as far as I know it's also still the most comprehensive write up of D&D vampire lore, and some of it still looks to apply here (or at least, it can).)
But the first thing I thought of, watching him constantly turn into a bat, is that it reminded me of the vampire psychological development stages. Stage one is where a vampire is drunk on their shiny new powers and just will not stop showing them off. (Stage two is the "find out" stage of the fuck around process, where the vampire discovers they're not as invincible as they believed and descends into full blown, paranoid monstrosity.)
Then "I will be watching." "I/We need to eavesdrop on everybody."... Oh, the paranoia. How's that thing where the curse of vampirism is twisting the trauma and fear going for you, my dude?
"I'll never forget the time we spent together, though. And I know you'll never forget about me. Until next time, darling." ...might be his expression or the datamined epilogues where he still wants his ex, but that feels like a threat to me? Might just be a jab after being dumped...
And, oh yeah, we're definitely looking at vampire bride/groom tier stuff here: Just sit on the decorative pedestal I built for you and look pretty until I'm in the mood to take you down and play with you. Stop complaining about how you're bored and want freedom!
The PC isn't weak by any measure, they could become a rival.. AA isn't my ending of choice, but I am morbidly fascinated with the concept of Tav and Astarion as toxic vampire divorcees: Two angry, powerful "lovers to enemies" vampire lords "sharing" territory; passing the centuries obsessing over each other; fighting each other; sometimes maybe hate-fucking, and generally making their bad relationship everyone's problem.
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sadnymi · 2 months
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「 ✦ Silent treatment. ✦ 」 Mattheo riddle x reader
Summary: Giving Mattheo the silent treatment after an argument wasn't the best idea after all
Words: 5k
Warning: [smut , heavy smut , strong language NSFW]
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On days like these, I feel an overwhelming urge to rearrange Mattheo's face. Despite our discussions and my heartfelt pleas, he seems to have a remarkable talent for ignoring everything I say.
The memory of our conversation echoed in my mind: my desperate pleas for him to leave that wretched boy alone, the hollow promises he'd made to appease me.
And now, that very same boy was lying in the hospital. Quite a coincidence, isn't it?
The cold shoulder was the only response I could muster, a potent cocktail of disappointment and anger simmering just beneath.
"Look," he started, a cocky edge to his voice, "that jerk had it coming. You can't just let people walk all over you."
My blood ran cold. He wasn't remorseful, he was proud. My icy glare intensified.
"So you think injuring someone and getting them suspended is the answer?" I countered, my voice laced with controlled fury.
He shrugged, a nonchalant act that did little to hide the flicker of unease in his eyes. "He'll learn his lesson," he muttered, avoiding my gaze.
“ so , are you “ my voice tinged with disappointment as I turned away, leaving him behind. Maybe I wasn't that hungry after all
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"Ah, I see you're in the mood for a silent treatment today," he remarked dryly as he leaned against the nearby wall, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Must be a new strategy in the art of communication, or perhaps it's just your way of keeping things exciting."
"Either way," he continued, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "I'm impressed by your dedication to the cause. Who needs words when we can communicate through meaningful silence, right?" His eyes sparkled with amusement as he waited for my response, clearly enjoying the playful banter.
"Meaningful silence?" I scoffed. "That's a new one, Mattheo. Very poetic."
He chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Hey, I'm just trying to keep up with your level of dramatics."
I crossed my arms, feigning offense. "My dramatics? You're the one who turns every situation into a Shakespearean tragedy."
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Is that so? Well, I suppose every play needs a leading lady."
I couldn't help but smile despite myself. "And what role do you think you play in this drama?"
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The charming rogue, of course. The one who keeps the plot interesting."
I shook my head. "You certainly do that, Mattheo. Whether I like it or not."
His grin was infectious. "I'll take that as a compliment. Now, are you ready to break the silence and actually talk to me?"
“actually I have something to do “ i said
As I turned to leave, Mattheo's taunting words followed me. "Ignite me, Lady Macbeth."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself," I retorted.
He grabbed my arm lightly as I tried to walk away. "Don't roll your eyes unless you want this conversation to continue somewhere else y/n "
"I have something important to do," I replied coolly, trying to free my arm from his grasp.
He persisted, asking, "Like what?"
"Visiting a patient in the hospital," I said, finally pulling away and smiling.
Mattheo chuckled. "You'll regret this little act, baby."
"I thought we were in a play," I quipped before turning and walking away.
Truth be told, I had no intention of visiting that snobby Gryffindor in the hospital. Mattheo's broken promise irked me, but I couldn't muster any sympathy for the boy who got what he deserved.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
As the days went by, Mattheo's attempts to regain my attention became more evident. He started showing up unexpectedly in places I frequented, always with a casual excuse or a playful remark.
But today , today was something else , he deliberately sat closer to a group of giggling Ravenclaw girls, laughing a little too loudly at their jokes and engaging in animated conversation.
I couldn't help but notice, my eyes flickering over to his table every now and then. It was frustrating how effortlessly he could draw attention, even when he wasn't trying. I busied myself with my own friends, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy that crept into my chest.
However, Mattheo wasn't done with his antics. As the meal progressed, he caught my eye from across the room and winked mischievously. It was a subtle gesture, but it made my heart race in a way I didn't want to admit.
Feeling a surge of annoyance mixed with curiosity, I excused myself from my friends and made my way over to his table. "What's with the show?" I asked, trying to sound unaffected.
Mattheo grinned, leaning back in his chair casually. "Just trying to keep things interesting," he replied with a shrug. "Besides, it's not every day I get to make you jealous."
I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "You wish."
He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Admit it, you were totally watching ."
“ well played riddle well played “ I walked away
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The days crawled by, each one painted in shades of frosty silence between Matteo and me. Rumors swirled around the school like rogue Bludgers. Had we finally called it quits? The question hung heavy in the air, fueled by Mattheo's brooding demeanor and my own steely resolve.
One particularly dreary afternoon, I found myself drowning my sorrows (or at least trying to ) in a big cup of apple juice in the library. Lost in a dusty tome about ancient magical creatures, I barely registered the approaching figure until a shadow fell across the page.
Looking up, I encountered a smug face I vaguely recognized – Zacharias Clifton, a Quidditch player from Ravenclaw notorious for his greasy hair and even greasier personality. "Mind if I join you, lovely?" he drawled, his voice dripping with a forced charm that made me cringe.
Before I could muster a response, he slid into the seat opposite me, invading my personal space with a confidence that reeked of entitlement. "So, I hear you're single these days," he continued, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint.
I gritted my teeth, the urge to hex him into a toad growing stronger by the second. Just as I was about to unleash a verbal scathing of epic proportions, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Actually, Clifton, she's very much taken."
Mattheo stood in the doorway, his usual swagger amplified tenfold. His gaze, however, wasn't directed at Zacharias, but at me. A flicker of something that looked suspiciously like possessiveness crossed his features before he turned his attention back to the unwelcome visitor.
"See your broomstick awaits," Mattheo said, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Don't let me keep you from your precious practice."
Zacharias, his face a comical shade of purple, sputtered something incoherent before gathering his dignity (or what little he possessed) and retreating with a disgruntled scowl.
The library door swung shut with a satisfying thud, leaving Mattheo and me alone in the hushed silence. My heart hammered against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm that seemed to echo in the stillness.
Mattheo took a tentative step forward, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before gently settling on the back of my chair. "Can we talk?" he murmured, his voice a husky whisper.
"Yeah, just not here," I managed to get the words out, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Lead the way," he said, his arm tightening around me possessively as we walked out of the library
The anger that had simmered within me for days threatened to fade once I saw him, and it just hit me how much I missed him.
As we made our way to our secret chamber (the hidden chamber we found last year and claimed as ours),tucked away from the curious eyes and whispers of Hogwarts, Mattheo's touch took on a possessive edge. His hands found every excuse to claim me, a silent proclamation to the entire school that I was still his .
With each step down the narrow passage, Mattheo drew me closer, his fingertips tracing tantalizing patterns on my skin. The sensation sent delightful shivers through me, igniting a quiet thrill of belonging in his arms amidst the bustling halls of our magical world.
The soft glow of the hidden chamber beckoned us, casting an enchanting ambiance that mirrored the intimacy between us.
As soon as we were finally in , I turned to him,my voice tinged with anger."What was that all about ? A show for the audience ? "
He met my gaze, a playful glint simmering beneath the surface of his seriousness. "Just reminding everyone that you're happily taken."
"Happily?" I scoffed, pushing against his arm, "We haven't spoken a word to each other in days!"
He leaned even closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "And whose fault is that, love? " His warm breath tickled my ear, sending shivers cascading down my spine.
My cheeks burned, a mixture of annoyance and something else entirely swirling within me. "Yeah, going to blame that all on me now?"
"No," he paused, his eyes searching mine. "I just don’t understand why you're so mad about what I did to that perk."
I sighed, "it’s not about him , Mattheo… You know that," I conceded, my voice softer than I intended. "It’s about the promise you made and broke. You know how much I hate that."
It stirred up emotions I'd rather forget. Let's just say, coming from a family where promises were often broken had its drawbacks.
"So you've chosen to give me the silent treatment instead of talking it out? Is that your solution y/n?"
I scoffed, crossing my arms defensively. "I didn’t expect it to drag on this long. I was upset,but Maybe then I get tired of being treated like an afterthought."
"An afterthought?" he scoffed back, incredulous. "You haven't spoken to me in days!"
"And whose fault is that?" I shot back, my voice rising. "You waltzed over to those Ravenclaw girls like they were the only ones who existed!"
"That was a stupid attempt to get your attention, alright!" he snapped, his frustration boiling over. "I never meant to make you feel like an afterthought."
"But you did!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the damp chamber.
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "I messed up, okay? I know that! But instead of talking to me about it, you shut me out."
"And what was I supposed to do?" I countered, my voice softening slightly. "Sit back and watch you flirt with every girl who walks by?"
"It wasn't flirting!" he defended, his voice strained.
"Then what was it?" I challenged, narrowing my eyes. "Because from where I was standing, it looked an awful lot like flirting."
"That's not fair," he said, his voice low. "And what about what you said? Visiting that perk in the hospital? Was that supposed to make me feel better?"
He was so close that I could feel his breath on my face
"Maybe I overreacted about Michael," I mumbled, finally breaking the silence.
"Maybe you did," he agreed cautiously anger in his eyes and lips so close to mine
“it’s really fucking rich of you to push the blame into me “ I screamed in his face frustration boiling over
“yet i was the only one putting in the effort to fix things!” He said back with lips so close to mine
“you didn’t even —” pulling me close. In a rush his lips were on mine I didn’t get to finish the words . It took a few moments for me to come to my senses; letting my eyes flutter closed as i kissed him back. The kiss wasn't gentle or sweet. It was needy and heated as mattheo’s tongue moved against mine.
In an instant, I found myself pressed against the wall, his mouth devouring me hungrily. His hand on the back of my neck drew me closer, while the other rested on my waist, kneading the flesh there. He pulled away slightly, speaking against my lips “ jump”He ordered, and I complied wrapping my legs around him
"Mattheo—" He silenced me once more with a kiss.
His black hair was hanging down into his face, so i pushed it back. 
As he ended the kiss, his hands reached for my robe, tossing it aside. Next, his fingers trailed to the hem of my shirt, pulling it upward. Throughout, his gaze remained locked with mine as he removed the shirt, adding it to the pile on the ground. . “If you just wanted a dirty fuck , you should have just asked” 
Gently placing me on the bed, he observed as I sank into the soft sheets. He removed his shirt and joined me, straddling my hips without a word. His eyes held mine as he pushed up my skirt. "This stays," he stated firmly, maintaining direct eye contact.
He then moved to hook his fingers in the waistband of my underwear. Slowly, he pulled down the lace material, causing me to close my eyes in response to the sensation.
"Matt, what are you doing?" I asked breathlessly, feeling his warm breath against my thighs.
His hands glided up and down my thighs, eliciting a soft moan from me as I savored the sensation of his skin against mine. It had only been a week, but I missed this closeness immensely.
My eyes flew open as his hands gently spread my legs, his face drawing closer between my thighs.“ You’re so wet for me.” he chuckled cockily “ i this a new kink we just discovered “
“you’re so full of Yourself .” I didn’t help the smile that comes
“and you’re about to be full of me, so what does that make us?” He Murmuring as His hands wrapped around my thighs, pulling me closer to his mouth.
“ Merlin's Beard! “I moaned so loudly
never breaking eye contact as his tongue lapped at my wetness. I moaned loudly, the sensation overwhelming me as Matt's tongue explored my wetness. Each flick of his tongue and gentle suck sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me tremble beneath him. My heart raced, the sound echoing in my ears as I expressed how much I had missed him.
"God, Matt, I missed you so much," I moaned, my mouth agape and my toes curling into the sheets. My hands instinctively tangled in his hair, urging him on with each movement. I cried out his name as the intensity built, feeling like I was on the brink of ecstasy.
But then, it stopped.
Confused and desperate, I lifted my head from the pillow, tears in my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath. "Why... why did you stop?" I cried out, my voice a mixture of frustration and need.
Matt flashed me an amused smile, teasing me further with a kiss to my aching clit. My breathing quickened again as he kissed along my inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where I wanted him most.
"Matt," I whimpered, regretting the frustration I must have caused him. His kisses trailed back up my body until he was face to face with me, watching me quiver beneath him.
"Please," I begged softly, feeling the desperation creeping into my voice.
“ what is it my sweet girl? “ He brushed my hair aside and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. "You've been teasing me all week," he murmured, his eyes filled with desire. "Wearing those short skirts, laughing with my friends, giving me the silent treatment."
He kissed me again, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "I've wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there , to fuck you senseless that my name will be the only thing you remember " he confessed, his voice husky with desire.
His lips trailed down to my earlobe, where he bit it softly, eliciting another moan from me. His mouth continued its journey, claiming every inch of my body with his tongue and teeth, until he reached my chest.
I arched back, silently pleading for his attention on my breasts. With a teasing hook of his finger, he slid down the neckline of my top, removing the lace of my bra in the process. His mouth captured one nipple, sucking slowly while his free hand caressed the other.
His actions sent shivers down my spine as he licked, sucked, and bit, creating a delicious rhythm that had me gasping for more.
"I'm sorry," I cried out, tears welling up in my eyes. "I missed you so much, and seeing you laughing with those girls hurt."
"I know, my sweet girl, I know," he whispered, his head buried between my legs once more. "Let me make it up to you."
With renewed fervor, he sucked harshly on my clit, his fingers pumping in and out of me rhythmically. The combination of sensations overwhelmed me, and I couldn't help but moan in pleasure.
As my body reached its peak, I gripped his hands tightly, feeling the fluttering release of my orgasm. I moaned his name loudly, I moaned his name probably too loudly for ghosts in the castle liking, pulled him up for a passionate kiss, savoring the taste of myself on his lips.
“Turn around,” he says,
I obeyed his command to turn around, and he slowly unpinned my hair, letting it cascade down my back in loose waves. He pushed it over one shoulder with deliberate care, his fingers trailing down my spine, igniting goosebumps along my skin , his fingers trailing down my spine, brushing the skin on my back.
His lips found their way to my neck, planting soft kisses that trailed down to my shoulder. Then, I felt his fingertips running along my skin again, sending a shiver of anticipation through me. His touch entered my hot, dripping core, and I couldn't help but let out a loud moan, begging for more.
"Do you like that?" he asked, his voice filled with desire.
"Yeah," I managed to say between moans.
“Is this why you were shouting nonsense at me? Because all you really wanted was me to fuck you senseless? Huh?” His words were like fire, and as he added another finger, I couldn't help but scream in pleasure.
continued to pump his fingers into me, increasing the intensity with each stroke. his finger got faster and faster His thumb pressed onto my clit, sending waves of pleasure through my body, gripping the bedding hard as the third finger carefully joins the others hitting my g-spot continuously , trying to close my legs, his free hand keep them parted I felt my orgasm building stronger than ever before, my body unable to contain the pleasure.
He turned me around, kissing my cheek softly before returning to my open mouth, sucking my bottom lip between his own. "That was so hot," he grunted, concern lacing his tone. "Are you alright baby ?"
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, my chest heaving with each breath. Despite the intensity of the moment, my predominant feeling was one of satisfaction and desire.I hummed
“ need words my love “
"Yes Matt I’m alright " I managed to say, pulling him down for a deep, passionate kiss.
His hips pressed against mine as we kissed, his covered arousal rubbing against my heat, sending a surge of desire through me. I trailed my hands down his muscular back until I reached the waistband of his sweatpants.
"Baby, stop," he murmured, concern lacing his tone. "Are you sure you want to keep going? I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed."
"I've never been more sure about anything," I whispered, kissing his cheek. "I missed you, I want you."
He moaned as I touched his erect member through the fabric, his breath hitching slightly. "You need to stop, love," he managed to say, his voice strained with desire.
"Sorry," I replied, pulling my hands away quickly. He leaned down to kiss my neck softly, causing me to close my eyes and wrap my arms around him.
"You never have to apologize," he whispered against my earlobe before whispering, "I’m going to make love to you," and pressing his lips to mine in tender kisses. then onc again pressing his lips to mine in sweet, sweet kisses.
one of my favourite thing about mattheo is how gentle he can be. He can be so passionate when he wants to and right now i can feel the love behind his kisses. 
Feeling his cock tapping against my clit a few times, I couldn't help but let out a moan as he guided himself into me. Taking hold of my leg again, he used them both as leverage to push himself fully inside me. I moaned into his ear, my breath hitching in anticipation.
"Fuck," I whispered, watching him mutter under his breath as he slid in and out of me slowly. The sensation was incredible; I could feel every inch of him dragging over my most sensitive parts.
"Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby," he whispered, and I opened my teary eyes slowly, doing as he said. He smiled, his gaze filled with desire. "That's it, good girl ."
Still buried deep inside me, his movements began to pick up speed. My breath caught in my throat as pleasure surged through me.
"Oh," I gasped, my head dropping back as my mouth fell open in pleasure.
"You feel so fucking good," he grunted with each thrust. "So fucking mine."
I hummed in response, words escaping me as Mattheo continued to drive me wild. With each thrust, my moans grew louder, reaching a crescendo of pleasure.
"Mattheo," I moaned, his name leaving my lips like a prayer.
"That's it, baby," he replied, his lips devouring mine softly. "So beautiful, moaning my name like that."
With a gentle touch, he pushed my hair out of my face before placing his hands on my cheeks. His eyes roamed my face while he continued to thrust into me at a slow, deliberate pace. I looked at him with half-lidded eyes, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
As he started to thrust harder, I grabbed a fistful of the sheets, feeling the intensity building within me. His hips bucked against me, his face buried in the crook of my neck. The faster pace and increased pressure caused my eyes to roll back in my head. I was on the edge of my high, having come so close moments earlier.
"Mattheo, I can't wait any longer," I screamed out, wrapping my legs around his torso tightly and intertwining our hands.
"Not yet," he grunted, turning his head to meet my gaze. He continued to move in and out of me, keeping eye contact as he held himself up by his forearms. I was so sensitive that the delay in my orgasm began to ache, and I felt the need to let go.
"Please, let me cum, baby," I pleaded, sounded desperate, begging him not to pull away at the last minute again. "I can't..."
And just as I was about to reach my breaking point, he freed one of his hands and snuck it between us, his fingers expertly rubbing at my clit and pushing me over the edge.
"I need you to do something for me, pretty girl. Want to try something?" he asked, and I nodded, willing to do anything he asked in that moment.
He kept everything slow, almost torturous, building up the tightening pressure inside of me with each pass before thrusting so hard the next time that I felt like I was going to pass out.
"Don't be nervous," he murmured, kissing my forehead. "Just relax and let go. I'll keep going until you tell me to stop." His soft tone sent flutters through my heart, and I nodded in response.
My breath hitched as his hand returned to my clit, igniting a fire in my belly. His hard thrusts hit my g-spot, and I screamed out, clinging onto his hand as if my life depended on it.
"Shit," I hissed, feeling him deep inside me, the pleasure building into a heavy weight in my gut. A tingling sensation hummed through my limbs.
"Let go, baby," he ordered, and I did just that as waves of pleasure crashed over me. It was an intense release unlike anything I'd ever felt before, leaving me shakily tilting my head up, tears in my eyes as I watched clear fluid gushing out of me each time Mattheo pulled back.
When he noticed me watching, he withdrew entirely, bringing his soaked fingers to my clit and rubbing fast circles that made me cry out loudly as my muscles spasmed again. Without his presence inside me, an unbroken stream of fluid rushed out, spraying over the bed sheets.
"Oh my god," I whimpered, needing a moment to focus on the overwhelming sensations. Mattheo made a noise of appreciation, reentering me, the wet sounds now more intense as he pushed in again.
"That's my good girl, you just squirted for me, baby. See how good you are," he praised, his words adding to the intensity of the moment.rl you just squirt for me baby see how good you are ”
Pounding into my g-spot hard enough to make my legs shake, he elicited another wave of pleasure that rolled through me. Instinctively, my body responded to Mattheo's instructions, bursts of arousal shooting out of me as I moaned softly with each pump of his hand.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I gasped in sync with his movements.
"Holy shit," Mattheo rasped as he drew his fingers out again, groaning when he returned to my clit and easily worked even more wetness out of me. "You just keep fucking cuming, baby."
I could barely process what he was saying. "Please, cum inside me, Matt," I wanted to mention that I finally got on pills this week but couldn't find the energy to.
"Yeah?" He breathed, "Want me to cum inside this pretty pussy?" Thrusting hard, his fingers still circling my clit, I moaned out his name as I squirted again and again. My pussy started to quiver as he continued to fuck me through it, crying out loudly when I felt him coming inside me as well.
Wetness splashed out of me in endless spurts, soaking my cunt, his hand, and the bed. It felt like I was coming for hours, amazed at what my body was capable of.
"You okay, my love?" He asked, concern evident in his voice as he looked down at me. My eyes were closed, and I gave no indication that I was listening to him, feeling like I had passed out for a second.
"Hey angel, open your eyes to me, please," Mattheo implored, kissing my cheeks and rubbing his thumb soothingly.
"Yeah, I just need a moment," I managed to whisper, feeling drained. "I think you ruined me, Matt," I added with a weak smile.
He chuckled softly, giving me kisses all over my face. "Yeah?" he teased.
"In a good way though," I reassured him.
With a small grunt, Mattheo pushed himself off of me and sat up from the bed. I reached out for him, not wanting him to leave my side yet. He chuckled at my antics, lightly grasping my hand and stroking my fingers before letting it go and stepping away.
"Just going to grab a few things to clean you up, love. I promise I’ll be right back," he assured me.
Nodding, I closed my eyes again, too exhausted to do anything else.
"I brought you some water, darling. You should drink a little," he said as he sat back down on the bed next to me, helping me sit up a bit. I complied lazily, sipping from the glass he held against my lips.
"Now, spread your legs a little, sweetheart. I need to clean you up. Not too sore?" He asked as he gently cleaned me up with a washcloth, my body still sensitive .
As he cleaned me up and tidied the sheets, I felt sleep starting to take over me, comforted by his warmth and embrace. He kissed my face a few times and chuckled softly before I finally drifted off to sleep, feeling content and loved.
"I don’t think I would ever be able to walk again," I joked softly .
"I would carry you then," he replied affectionately.
"Since it’s all your fault, so yes," I teased, feeling a mix of emotions.
"I’m so sorry," he apologized sincerely
"Matt—"
"No, listen. I’m really sorry for everything. It was all my fault from the start. I shouldn’t have promised you that and then go and break it the next day," he admitted regretfully.
“ I’m so sorry too “ I hugged him tightly, hiding my face in his neck as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling the blanket over us.
"Can we sleep here tonight?" I asked, wanting to be close to him.
"We can do anything you want, baby. I will do whatever you want," he promised, kissing my forehead.
"I love you so, so much," I whispered, feeling sleepiness creeping in.
"I love you so much too, my love," he replied, kissing my forehead back.
"Baby?" he said after a moment.
"Yeah?" I replied, feeling sleepy.
"Did you ever think about kids?" he asked, surprising me.
I laughed softly. "What?"he said
"I’m on pills, baby. I finally managed to get them," I explained, resting my head on his chest as I got ready to sleep.
"Baby?" he said again, and I hummed in response.
"Just for your information, I’m going to hit that Zacharias boy so hard tomorrow he can join Michael in the hospital, and Michael doesn’t have to feel lonely anymore. I’m telling you now,"
"I was thinking about hexing him into a toad, but we can decide tomorrow," laughing while giving him one last kiss I said .
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moonchildstyles · 1 month
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would Élan!Harry ever get jealous with (Y/N)? Seeing as to how they don't make their relationship public (yet!), people would still definitely hit on her, so how would he deal with that?
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"One more?" 
Harry's lips grew into a lopsided smile at (Y/N)'s request. It would never lose its shine, would it? 
"One more, but I don't want to be the one in trouble for your lipstick this time," he conditioned with a raised brow. 
"Okay, fine," (Y/N) answered right away, waving his terms off with a fluttering hand, "Just one more before we have to go inside." 
Pressing his lips to her own perfectly painted pair, Harry was determined to keep it light and fleeting, knowing that there were cameras lurking just up ahead. It wouldn't be a good look for either of them to emerge from the back of this SUV with (Y/N)'s lipstick smeared and the remnants on Harry's own mouth. 
Of course, his determination hinged on just how well behaved (Y/N) was going to be. Which, as he'd learned through the course of their tabloid facade, wasn't something that happened often. It was her that deepened the kiss with a tip of her head, fitting his bottom lip between her two. 
How was he supposed to say no to that?
She knew he'd given in as soon as he felt the faint curl of her lips against his, a smug victory smile. 
Though, her victory didn't last much longer than that. 
The ever patient—and discreet—man he was, Sully knocked on the partition as a warning that they were quickly approaching the venue of the night's party. It was Harry who had to have the power to pull away first, leaving (Y/N) with a puffed pout and only slightly smudged lipstick. He didn't even want to think about how much of the red was now painted over his own mouth. 
"Don’t give me that look," he told her, swiping a thumb over a smudge just under her bottom lip. 
His command only garnered him a set of narrowed eyes to go along with her pout. "I don't even want to be here tonight, why can't we go home?" 
"Because," he said, canting his head as she did the same, "Y'told Francesca you'd be here tonight, and I know y'wouldn't leave her by herself." 
"She'll make friends," she huffed, though Harry knew he'd won her over as soon as she turned away in search of the compact in her purse. 
"It's gonna be alright, darling," he told her, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she clicked open her mirrors and touched up her lipstick, "We'll go home early if y'really want." 
"I do really want," she petulantly mumbled, cleaning up the slight smudging outside of the line of her mouth. "H, you messed up my lipstick." 
That was enough to have him throwing his head back with a laugh.
By the time Sully had pulled up to the entrance of the high-rise the party was taking place at, (Y/N) had primed her appearance and put on her socialite facade. Harry had sat at her side, being her anchor as she centered herself and let the side of her personality that loved cameras and attention take over. 
"Ready?" he'd murmured once they pulled up to the entrance of the building.
She chirped out and Mh-hm a small smile on her lips. "Ready to be my bodyguard?"
"If y'can behave," he countered, sliding his arm off of her shoulders once he saw the first flashes of the camera aimed at the SUV. 
"We'll see," she smiled just before sliding down the leather seats and pushing the door open. 
Harry had no choice but to follow after her, shaking his head just before stepping out into the flashing lights with her. Schooling his features, he slipped on his own facade. Despite what the tabloids wrote and the blurry photos supposedly circulating online, when they stepped in public, Harry was her bodyguard. Especially when it comes to parties like this.
He'd be her lover later, he had to make sure she was safe first. 
The entrance wasn't packed with photographers, but there were still enough people for Harry to hover just behind her. He'd learned his lesson well while in Paris that summer—it didn't matter just how few paparazzi were following her, it only took one to push the limits. 
She kept her head down when the few waiting outside the event started talking to her, speaking over one another with calls of her name. None of them acted particularly invasive, speaking rudely to her or invading her space, especially seeing as there wasn't anything particularly scandalous circulating about her at the moment. Nonetheless, while (Y/N) politely smiled and kept her space, Harry was the intimidating presence behind her that reminded others just how important it was for them to keep their distance. 
Following as her quiet shadow, Harry kept his hands to himself as they were escorted to the penthouse floor for the party. If not for the attendant in the lift, he may have attempted to get one more touch of her skin against his, though he instead settled for a sidelong glance that had her lips tipping into a small smile. 
When the doors opened directly to the penthouse space, Harry tipped his head, gesturing for (Y/N) to go first. She thanked the attendant with a quiet thank you before she stepped into the fluttering party.
It was a decidedly more low-key event compared to the many that (Y/N) frequented, most of the attendants having spilled out towards the open air patio. The rest of the space was full of modern, minimalist decor. Walls were made of glass panelling, everything coming in different shades of cream and nude, manicured greenery being placed throughout the space in an attempt to make it look more lived in than it most likely was. Staff traipsed through the space with trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of bubbly alcohol. 
"Do you see Fran anywhere?" (Y/N) murmured, her fingers joining into a fumbling bundle at her middle. 
Continuing his scan over the crowd, Harry stuffed his own hands into his pockets to keep from plucking (Y/N)'s up in an attempt to soothe her. "Not yet. Do y'know if she's here yet?" 
"I don't know, she hasn't texted me since before we left." At that, (Y/N) pulled out her phone, most likely pulling up Francesca's shared location. Her expression fell at whatever she saw on her screen. "She hasn't even left her apartment yet." 
"That's alright," he told her, keeping his voice low, "She'll be here soon. Do y'want a drink?" 
Just as she opened her mouth to give an answer, (Y/N) was interrupted by a voice Harry didn’t recognize. Though plenty of strangers approached her while they were out and about, especially at events such as this, it still put him on edge. Peering around the perfect style of (Y/N)'s hair, he found a man with dark hair and grown in facial hair approaching her. He was inches shorter than Harry, but with the way the group he'd drifted away from admired him, he could have been seven feet tall. 
"Hi," (Y/N) politely answered. Harry didn't have to see her expression to be able to picture the neutral set to her mouth and the practiced light in her eyes. 
"Sorry," the man said, voice accented with lilting vowels and an undulating melody. His eyes never  strayed from (Y/N). "I don't mean to interrupt, I was just hoping I'd run into you while I was in the city. I'm Luca." 
"Oh, no worries," she answered, just as perfectly pleasant as always, "Nice to meet you." 
Harry watched on as she reached out a manicured hand for him to shake, only for Luca to bring her hand to his lips and press a kiss to her knuckle. 
His hands in his pockets clenched. 
This was the downside to keeping their relationship on the down low—everyone loved to assume she was available for the taking. 
"Nice to meet you as well," Luca drawled, looking at (Y/N) through a fan of dark lashes. It was with a sudden glance in his direction that Luca seemed to realize she hadn't been standing off by herself. "Excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Luca." 
With a clenched jaw, Harry offered his own greeting, reciprocating Luca's outstretched hand for no other reason than to ensure he wouldn't let it wander back towards (Y/N). 
"Nice to meet you," Harry said, voice a bit stifled as he assessed the man before him. 
"Are you—uh—a friend of (Y/N)'s?" Luca asked, taking a step back with his hand giving a slight flex before settling it into his pocket. The action had Harry's lips quirking into a small smile; it was entirely intentional just how tight his handshake was, but he would never admit that. 
"I'm her bodyguard." 
It was always with that statement that Harry had assessing eyes tracing over his form, taking stock of who he was as if his merits for his profession were painted on his clothing or tattooed on his arms. 
"I bet she keeps you busy then, this one," Luca attempted to tease as if he knew anything at all about he or (Y/N).
Before Harry could manage to snip out his own reply, (Y/N) took over. "Luca, have we met before? Sorry, if I've forgotten—I have the worst memory," she laughed, "You look familiar." 
That seemed to be just the question Luca had been waiting for, a dazzling smile settling on his features. "Ah, well," he started, suddenly—deceptively—bashful with his eyes dropping to his feet, "I am an F1 driver—for Ferrari, actually. You may have seen one of my races." 
Harry had to make a point to keep from rolling his eyes. 
"Oh wow," (Y/N) bubbled, perfect persona in place, "That's really cool! I have a friend who really enjoys that kind of thing, so maybe I've seen you on T.V." 
"Yeah?" he chirped, decidedly more willing to talk about his profession now that (Y/N) may be familiar with him, "I was just in Las Vegas for a race a couple of weeks ago. Have you ever been before?" 
Harry had to tune him out then, instead opting to look for Francesca through the new faces that had entered since being huddled in the corner with Luca The F1 Driver. Slipping into bodyguard mode, he only heard the polite mumblings of the conversation at his side, attempting to provide (Y/N) with as much privacy he could manage. 
"Right, H?" (Y/N) asked, suddenly pulling him back into the moment from where he'd zoned out pretending to look for Francesca. 
"Hm?" he hummed, blinking back into reality to find (Y/N) looking at him with Luca seemingly unimpressed with his inclusion. The thought had a lopsided smile touching at the corner of his lips. 
"We're going to be in Milan next month, right?" 
"Yes, from the ninth to the seventeenth. Why?" His question was aimed at Luca, forcing him to pay attention to him.
His smile looked especially pasted on this time when he matched Harry's attention. "I was just telling (Y/N) that I'll be racing again in Monza next month. Perhaps, you can catch the race while you're out there?" 
"Maybe," (Y/N) answered noncommittally, "I'd have to check in and see what we have planned, and Harry usually has to—" 
"No need to worry about that," Luca interjected, "I have a box you could spend the time in—I doubt you'll need any security up there." 
A tick appeared in Harry's jaw, hinging it tighter. To be fair, it wasn't the most blatant attempt to get him out of the way he'd ever heard before, but it was certainly an attempt. 
It was (Y/N) that had shrugged her shoulders, piping up first before Harry had a chance. "Oh, no," she waved Luca off with a polite smile, "Harry would be coming with me anyway."
At that, Harry could spot a small crack forming in Luca's facade. (Y/N) wasn't quite playing into whatever he had been hoping for when he meandered over to her. 
"You just let me know, then," Luca settled on, features schooled into perfection though he did stray a glance towards Harry. "Sorry, I'm being so rude—can I get you a drink, (Y/N)?" 
It took (Y/N) only a split second thought before she was jumping on the opportunity. "Yes, please, actually! Anything sweet works for me." 
When (Y/N) made a move to pull out her phone, her own quiet way of dismissing Luca to the bar, Harry had to keep his features from showing his amusement. She had casually turned to face Harry, giving her back to the bar Luca had disappeared to.
With her eyes still low, she murmured, "Is he far enough away?" 
"Mhm." 
Looking up at him with wide eyes, she whispered, "Oh my god, is he being annoying or am I just in a bad mood?" 
The exasperation in her tone was enough to have Harry letting out a chime of laughter. "No, he's definitely being annoying. Did y'really recognize him, or were y'jus' saying that?" 
"Kind of," she waved off, whatever app on her phone taking a backseat for the moment, "I half-watched a race one time with Toriana but that's it. I just wanted him to stop talking to you."
"Of course, Fran had to be late today, right?" Harry joked, sharing a small smile with her before noticing Luca on his way back with bubbling drinks in hand.
"Seriously," (Y/N) sighed before spinning on her heel to face Luca once more. "Thank you so much!" 
Now knowing how (Y/N) truly felt about her companion, Harry had to make a point to keep his amusement from touching his face when listening to the way she forced herself to pep up for him. It was interesting to him now, just how different it had been in the beginning, how difficult it had been for him to spot those differences in her personas—the split between who she truly was and who she hid behind. Now, all he needed to hear was the inflection of her voice, the arch of her spine, the gesticulating of her hands, and he could tell just where her comfort was sitting.
Luca's voice became a mumbling of monotone syllables to him, nothing to pay attention to as Harry observed the party and the patrons. He kept an ear out for (Y/N), ensuring she wasn't in need of him, though he had to make a point to keep from laughing at the sound of her faux-giggles between sips of sugary alcohol.  
Though he wasn't a fan of hearing others hit on his girlfriend, it was rather funny to hear just how clueless they were to her disinterest when it was so clear to his own ears. 
Of course, until Luca put his hands on her. 
It was slow, the way he'd grown closer to her after noticing Harry had averted his attention some. He took small steps, shifting his weight and leaning in as if he couldn't hear her over the low music playing. Once he deemed himself close enough, Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, his hand landing on the small of her back, sliding around to settle on the curve of her waist as if he wasn't clearly flinching away. 
A too loud laugh filtered from her mouth then, enough to have Harry's attention sharpening and pinning on the interaction. 
As casually as possible, (Y/N) attempted to step out of Luca's grip. Though it didn't appear that he caught the hint with the way he shifted towards her once more, closing the gap she'd opened. 
There was a moment, with the sight of his hand on her waist, fingertips dipping into the folds of her dress as they curled to the line of her body, that Harry wondered just how many grainy videos and opinionated essays would be posted if he stepped in and pushed Luca away. 
 He'd bet it would be more than either he or (Y/N) would care to see. 
It was when (Y/N) looked at him over her shoulder, a fleeting glance, one that could have easily been mistaken for a flip of her hair, that Harry stepped in. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, greedily pulling her away from Luca's grip. 
"Francesca's here," he murmured, voice just loud enough for Luca to clue into the fact that his time with (Y/N) was over.
Spinning to face him, (Y/N) looked to him with relief in her eyes. "Really?" she bubbled, glancing back at Luca for a moment though she was already heading into Harry's arms, "It was nice talking to you, Luca!" 
Harry almost wanted to gloat when he saw how Luca stuttered over himself, absently reaching out as (Y/N) slipped through his fingers. 
"Oh—Um—Let me know about Monza, yeah? I'd love to see you again before I leave the city, maybe tom—" 
"I'm really busy this week, but maybe! I'll see about Monza and have Harry reach out!" 
It was with that final remark, that (Y/N) began leading the charge away from Luca and the corner he'd huddled her into. Harry followed after her, shifting his arm until he had his palm on her bicep.
"Thank god," (Y/N) sighed once they were far enough away, "Did you hear him?" 
"I tried not to," Harry murmured, guiding her through the throngs of people, slowing when unfamiliar faces said greetings in passing, "What did he say?" 
(Y/N) shook her head. "I know more about his racing stats than I think I know about myself." 
Typical, Harry figured. Of course, once the veil was lifted, would Luca leave the shy act behind to boast about his job in hopes of impressing (Y/N).
"'M not surprised," he said, just before (Y/N) changed their course.
Instead of following the line of the bar and those gathered in the living area, she turned them towards a hallway branching off the main room. It was decidedly quieter than where the party was. 
"Do you think there's a bathroom down here?" (Y/N) muttered, scanning her eyes down the few doors lining the hall, "I want to hide for a second."
It was (Y/N)'s request—that she wanted to hide away after speaking to Luca—that had him trying his hand at his own exploration. Even if he didn't hide a restroom, he would find somewhere quiet for his girl to decompress. 
On a whim, he reached towards the handle of a passing door. Pushing it open, a pristine bathroom sat inside. Convenient. 
Gently pulling her over the threshold first, Harry made a point to take a look around, intending to catch if anyone had wandering eyes that had landed on them. Though he couldn't be sure no one had caught them stealing away together, at least no one was watching as they went into the bathroom together. 
Setting her drink on the counter, (Y/N) sat on the edge of an elaborate tub with a heaving sigh. Her shoulders settled down, sloping downwards as she looked up at the ceiling for a second. 
"I don't know if I've been that annoyed since Paris," she muttered, rolling her neck. 
A small smile settled on Harry's lips then. Leaning against the marbled countertop, he crossed his arms over his chest as he gazed at her. "Maybe we should've stayed home, hm?" 
"I told you so," she countered, looking to him with amusement in her eyes. "How much do you wanna bet that Fran hasn't even left the house yet?" 
He watched as she pulled out her phone from her purse, checking through whatever tabs she had open before he unfurled from where he was leaning against the counter. Crossing the pristine tiles under his feet, he crouched in front of where (Y/N) was huddled on the edge of the tub. 
Placing a hand carefully on the bone of her ankle, he whispered to her despite already being alone in the space. "Y'alright?" 
"Yeah," she sighed, slowing her tapping on her phone before she dropped her phone to rest on her lap, "He was just annoying—he wasn't, like... scaring me or anything." 
"Good, good," he murmured, stroking his thumb over the curve of her leg. 
"Are you okay?" she prodded, settling her hand on his cheek. 
Leaning into her touch without a second thought, he shuttered his eyes in a lingering blink. "'M okay. I don't know why, but it was hard to watch him—or listen to him." 
She tossed him a shrewd glance. "Yeah? You didn't like watching him ask me out?" 
He shook his head, cheeks stretching around his growing grin. "I didn't, actually. It actually made me a little angry. I wanted to punch him when he touched you." 
"Really?!" she bubbled, a plume of laughter falling from her lips, "I didn't think you could get jealous! You're always so calm!" 
"Was I jealous?" he prodded, tugging on her leg in a teasing pull, "Is that what happened?" 
"It sounds like it! You wanted to hit him?" she asked again, leaning towards him with a conspiratorial gleam to her eyes. 
"Maybe," he mused, "If he'd done anything to upset you, I might have. He was already annoying enough." 
There had to have been something in his answer that she enjoyed seeing as she pressed forward and sealed her mouth to his. He smiled into the contact for a moment, dimples in his cheeks before melting into her touch. Slotting his lips to hers, it was (Y/N) that deepened the kiss with a trace of her tongue over the pillows of his lips. 
The sounds of their lips parting and coming together filtered through the bathroom as Harry reached towards her hand on his face, wrapping his fingers around the fine bones of her wrist. It was when he scraped his teeth over the full of her bottom lip, a small nip, that she parted her crossed legs and drew him between her thighs. 
He was hyper aware of the party going on outside the door, and the fact that this was the apartment of someone he'd never met before, but at the same time Harry didn't care. 
If she liked seeing him jealous this much, he wasn't going to stop her. 
At the movement of her legs, her phone was tossed to the floor, landing on a bathmat at her feet. Neither had acknowledged the thump, until it started vibrating with a call. 
(Y/N) reluctantly pulled away with a sigh, resting her forehead on his. "It's Fran, isn't it?" 
"Probably," he muttered, blindly reaching for her phone before handing it off. 
Harry only had to see the way she pulled in a long breath, an affectionate roll of her eyes, before she pressed the device to her ear that told him their suspicions were right. 
"Hello?" she answered, drifting her hand from his cheek to card through her hair. 
Getting only one side of the conversation, Harry had to put the pieces together while watching the expressions that crossed her face. As far as he could tell, Francesca was especially amusing today. 
"Yes, we're here," (Y/N) continued, nodding along to whatever Fran was bubbling about. "Yes, me and Harry... No, she's not here—as far as I've seen anyway... When are you going to get here?.. We'll still be here; we're just in the bathroom right now." She paused just before a peal of laughter rang through the room, her nails grazing over his scalp. (The touch had a certain shiver streaking down his spine). "No! We're hiding from some F1 guy that keeps inviting us to some race next month... If you want, you can go instead. I don't know if he has a yacht, but I'm sure you could convince him." 
Gazing up at her from where he sat before her, Harry felt his own lips curving into a lopsided smile. He loved seeing her stripped down like this; she'd told him more than once that he was one of the only people he was able to vulnerable and herself around, but he'd seen just how young she was around Francesca. He could see glimpses of who she was before he'd met her, the girl who'd been around before cameras were documenting her every move. 
It had his heart rattling against his ribs. 
With his wandering head, Harry hadn't realized she'd ended her call until she hung up the phone and placed both of her hands on his cheeks. 
"Do you know how many times I've wished I could be in your head?" she told him, a small smile to her lips, "I just want to know what you're thinking—you're so hard to read." 
"'S you," he said, sincerity rivaling the lighthearted tone to her voice,"'S always you."
She looked at him with amusement in her eyes, the same way she always did when he said something adoring: as if she didn't believe him, instead waiting for the joke to land. 
He could do nothing other than surge forward and press his lips to hers. He'd always been better at showing than telling her how he felt. 
—————
thank u sm to whoever requested and for everyone who read to this point! so sorry for any mistakes, and please let me know if you have any fun ideas of your own:)
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breeyn · 7 months
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An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.
I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)
I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.
My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.
I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”
That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.
Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.
The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.
My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.
I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.
Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.
No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.
And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.
Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.
You see where I’m going?
If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.
So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.
The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.
Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤
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aroeddiediaz · 2 months
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7x04 Coda
Sprained ankles hurt. Eddie shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by the pain, because he knows all too well that the amount of pain injuries feel like is almost inverse with the actual damage they cause. A shot from a sniper felt like almost nothing, while a stubbed toe sends ricochets up his spine.
But that’s nothing compared to the encroaching feeling of dread as Eddie thinks back on his interactions with Buck over the last two weeks, and what might have caused his best friend to lash out at him.
“I think we fucked up,” he grumbles to Tommy, who gives him a quick glance before returning his attention to the road.
“You mean with Evan?” Tommy says.
Evan. That was kind of weird, right? Eddie had only ever heard Buck’s sister and parents call him by his first name before. He’d only used the name once himself, when he told Buck about his will.
But Buck hadn’t corrected Tommy on it, so he must not mind, Eddie supposes.
Eddie shakes that stray thought away.
“Yeah,” he continues, even though talking kind of hurts right now. That didn’t seem fair, it’s Eddie’s ankle that’s injured, not his lungs. “I mean, with me kind of blowing him off to come to that karaoke night… and the UFC fight in Vegas… and the pickup game…”
Looking back on it now, Eddie’s not sure when it all got so out of hand. He and Tommy had hit it off on the Coast Guard ride back to LA, while Buck was off checking in with Bobby and Athena. He’d been so excited as they shared their similar interests and history- army, MMA, old cars- that he’d immediately made plans to hang out. When Tommy mentioned that he could get them rinkside tickets in Vegas, Eddie had jumped on it immediately. He didn’t even think about mentioning it to Buck.
And the babysitting thing… Eddie kind of wants to curl up thinking back to the strange face Buck had made when Eddie asked him to watch over Chris. Buck usually loved hanging out with Chris, even volunteering for it when Eddie mentioned having plans, so he didn’t think twice about asking it of him. He should have known.
“Ooh, yeah.” Tommy lets out a whistle. “We did fuck up, huh. Could have at least invited him to muay thai after the match.”
Eddie laughs a little, strained by the pain and the stirrings of shame. “Buck doesn’t know muay thai. Just boxing.”
“Yeah?” There’s a funny tone to Tommy’s voice. “Maybe we should teach him.”
Eddie does a careful rotation of his inflamed joint. The stretch does help ease the pain a little. “Maybe you should offer him lessons,” he says. “I’m gonna be out of commission for a little bit.”
Tommy glances at him again. A slightly longer one, with them stopped at a red light, kind of searching. “You think he’d be interested in learning from me?”
“Oh yeah. You’re great. And Buck’s a quick study for sure.” Eddie glances out the window, and sees the urgent care clinic sign just past the intersection. “Actually, you think you could do me a favor?”
The light turns green. Tommy drives forward. “Of course.”
“Could you talk to Buck for me?” Eddie asks. “I’m sure he’s feeling all sorts of guilty right now, and it’s not his fault. He just got a little too aggressive at the game.”
It’s really too bad. Buck’s really good at basketball, for someone who hates the game so much. Eddie’s sure he’ll never get Buck to touch a ball again.
“Uh, yeah,” Tommy says, slowly, as he pulls up into the parking lot. “If you’re sure you want me to speak with him.”
Eddie nods. “He’s probably licking his wounds at his loft right now, and he’ll need a bit of a kick in the pants before he comes to see me. I trust you.”
Tommy chuckles a little. “Alright, then. I’ll swing by his place in the morning, before my shift, check in on him for you.”
That’s a relief. They find a parking spot close to the clinic entrance, and Eddie hisses a little as he opens the door and swings his legs out. He needs to be more considerate of Buck’s feelings, going forward. He has the sinking feeling that he’s started to take him for granted.
He’ll have to pay him more attention.
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princessconsuela120 · 4 months
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✰ PATCHING UP ✰
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Summary: after a run in with the poachers, Sebastian patches up all your wounds.
Warnings: mentions of blood, light cursing, fluff
Author’s Note: you already know Sebastian is gonna be here a lot. Enjoy guys!
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“HOLD STILL NOW.” Sebastian said softly, one hand holding the side of your face while the other lightly dabbed at an open cut that took up your cheek. You had been out on another adventure after hearing of a group of poachers nearby. They had taken a baby niffler and were posting posters around town for ransom. You couldn’t let them kill the poor thing. So of course you stormed the camp. One thing led to another, and here you were again, sitting across from your boyfriend, snapping at him every few seconds the disinfectant would stink your wound. This happened so often in fact, Sebastian kept a first aid kit in the room of requirements, seeing as the injuries you gave yourself were too deep to cure with magic not done by a healer.
“It’d be easier to hold still if you weren’t digging that tissue into my skin.” You snapped, gritting your teeth at the stink in your cheek. Sebastian rolled his eyes.
“Actually, I’m not even touching you with the towel anymore, I just sprayed you with the disinfectant your mum sent you.” He explained, making you groan, squeezing into his arm as you tried to suppress the burn that came when he sprayed the bottle again.
“Ugh, we’ll, it hurts like a bugger, you must be doing something wrong.”
He sighed, taking a moment to frown at you.
“Take a deep breath, yeah? You’re probably just still reeling from the fight.” He said, making you listen to his instruction. He sighed, moving to the other side of your face to see your eye bloodshot and red, a large purple mark right below it. “Merlin’s beard y/n, you’d think you’d learn your lesson with magic.” He lectured, gently brushing his fingers against your bruised skin before turning back to the first aid kit.
“I have, mostly at least. The gash under my cheek was when I decided to start fighting with fists. Show those damned poachers who’s boss.” You mimicked a punch with your hands, causing Sebastian to scoff as he pulled out another cloth.
“It looks like they showed you, actually.” He teased, making you shove him playfully as he chuckled.
“Oh posh. They were wearing giant rings on their fingers. Cheating pricks.” You rolled your eyes. “I would’ve had them though.”
“Oh I’m sure you would have.” Sebastian mumbled, not able to hold back his smile as you described the fight with excitement. He wasn’t happy you got in a fight, not at all. But he couldn’t help but smile whenever you got excited over things like this. He couldn’t lie, he would always be proud of his girl.
“Are you almost finished?” You whined, making him chuckle at your childish response.
“Not even close. But I suppose I can patch up majority of the rest rather quickly if you’re in a hurry?”
“Only slightly. I wanted to show Rocky his new home.” You replied with a shrug, causing Sebastian to raise an eyebrow at you, pulling away from your face after smoothing out the bandage that he put on your cheek.
“Rocky?”
“The niffler I saved. You didn’t think this fight was for no reason did you?” He scoffed.
“Well, you do enjoy charging poacher camps for new cloaks, so I wouldn't be entirely surprised.” He teased, though you chose to ignore his comment.
“He’s the cutest thing you ever saw.” You gawked, pulling out the nab sack you had brought with you on your journey. You opened the bag, alleging the small light purple baby niffler to leap from the confinements of the bag. He seemed to quickly make his way into one of your vivariums, Sebastian watching as you swooned for the baby the whole time.
“Isn’t he just the cutest?” You asked, turning to him excitedly.
“I don’t know, I think you’re cuter.” He flirted, making you roll your eyes playfully.
“What a cheeky boy you are, Sallow.” You said with a smirk. He chuckled.
“What? It’s true.”
He grabbed your hand carefully, not wanting to mess up the bandages he had wrapped around your bruised knuckles, and led you back to the chair where he was patching you up.
“I’m sure it is. Now hurry up and finish so I can feed Rocky.” You whimpered loudly, pulling your face away from him as he dabbed a wet cloth on your lip. “Bloody hell!” You shouted, causing him to frown.
“Sorry.”
“Merlin’s, fuck that hurt.” You grumbled, carefully touching your lip before meeting his eyes. He pouted at you, grabbing your hands and kissing them gently, in an attempt to apologize.
“Don’t worry darling, I’ll make sure to kiss it better when I’m done.” He smirked, once again causing you to scoff. You threw one of the cloths at his face as he laughed loudly.
“Oh shut it you arse.” You teased, now laughing as you smiled happily at Sebastian.
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holybibly · 3 months
Note
CAPTAIN!Hongjoon pirate AU where he kidnaps you when you were wandering around the docks. He would be very possessive over you as he sees you as his own personal treasure to use whenever he pleases.
BUT! He definitely has no problem sharing you with the other members, or let them have their way with you whenever he thinks you deserve a punishment. One time, he allowed one of the members to tie you up naked against the pole in the middle of the deck, completely exposed for everyone to see. How long were you supposed to stay there? Until you’ve learned your lesson of course. You must fully understand you belong to him, and only him. Knowing the only reason the other members gets their turn with you sometimes, is because he let’s them. No other reason.
(Nice add is always being a princess who gets kidnapped by the captain and his crew. Humiliating you into fully understanding you are nothing more than their own personal play thing. No royal status for you anymoooore)
URGHHH I’m such a sucker for PIRATE! AU and nobody pulls this concept off like ATEEZ🫠
Oh, our captain. When he wants something, he is going to get it.
When he first saw you, something clicked inside him. A dark thirst for destruction was stronger than any rational thought. He should have you. You are a true princess.
Oh, you would be such a beautiful addition to his treasures, his crown's sparkling diamond.
On your wedding day, or more likely, on your wedding night, Joong would have kidnapped you. Maybe he would fuck you there, in your luxurious chambers, in front of your fiancé, to show him who you belong to.
Hongjoong would call you his precious, his true treasure, his special black pearl, but only if you were on your best behaviour. If you dared to contradict him, all cute nicknames would instantly turn into horrible, humiliating insults.
He might even slap you to teach you obedience if you pushed his buttons hard enough. Of course, Hongjoong would then treat you sweetly. He would hold you on his lap all the time and plant hot kisses on your neck until your skin was raw and red from the rough, passionate caresses.
I can easily imagine him laying your naked body on the table during a communal dinner while the other participants try to ignore your moans and sobs as their captain eats you up as the main course. Extremely dirty and loud, he wouldn't shut up about how wonderful your sweet cunt is, and he lapped up your juices as if it were the last meal of his life.
"You're dripping like a real whore. You're no longer of royal blood, are you, Princess?"
He would probably pour the wine on you so he could slowly lick it off you while his stunning cat-like eyes stared at the participants as if to say, "Look, she's mine. I can do whatever the hell I want with her."
"Tell me: Who owns this pussy? Come on, say it." He would definitely slap you in the pussy a couple of times to make you squeal and squirm.
He would make all the boys watch him enjoy your tight, pink cunt in front of their faces. Hongjoong could also have a cum on your face because he could do it.
As a punishment, he would give the boys the use of your impudent mouth, but first he would put a crown on your head with diamonds and precious stones as a form of mockery.
"Is it possible for a princess to have such a dirty mouth, full of sperm and drool?"
In the end, he was going to get what he wanted, which was to make you completely subservient to him and to destroy your royal status.
Hongjoong did everything in his power to make you realise that there was only one person on this ship who could be considered royal, and that was himself.
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vitzi9 · 1 year
Text
Pretty when you cry
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Ethan Landry x GN!Reader
Masterlist if you want to read my other things.
content warning: manipulative ethan; stalking; obsessive; maybe sub!Ethan; mention of murder; he's still ghostface; guilt trapping; worshiping; knife
English is not my first language sorry guys, if i did any grammatical mistakes lmk !
2924 words (7/05/2023)
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"Hi" he said simply. As if we were speaking to each other for the first time, but in the same tone with which one greets an old friend. It was ironic how I wished for weeks for him to come and talk to me and when he finally did, all I thought about was running away. He hadn't changed. And so much the better. He was still so handsome. Today, he wore a white shirt and a kind of jeans in a shade between dark gray and black. After taking a brief tour of his outfit, I look up at his face: the most beautiful part of his person. His frizzy curls looked fresh, as if he had just washed them. This thought was confirmed by the smell of shampoo that came to me on a light breeze. His cheeks were tinged with a pale pink that highlighted the small and discreet freckles that sported his cheeks. His gaze escaped mine, watching the floor with a strange and sudden interest as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. He was embarrassed, no, dead of shame. After all, I still hadn't answered him. I've only watched him so far. And I surely would have continued if I hadn't noticed his shaking hands.
What am I supposed to say to him? I greet him too, I compliment him? I ask him directly why he came to talk to me? After all, the only times we had spoken was to get him to tutor me. Are we even friends? After he stood me up without any explanation, approximately two weeks ago now, we haven't spoken to each other since.
“Hi” I simply replied. Ethan scratches his cheek as he smiles nervously at me, his gaze flicking briefly above me to look behind me. The redness on his cheeks getting worse.
“You uh… Your classes, how are you doing ? I… Like, you're good ?”
To be honest, it wasn't. Which is the main reason as to why I was asking him for lessons, by the way. So he knows all about those four out of twenty that I love so much. (Wrong, I hate them, I just don't have the IQ to have more) How handsome he was. Earlier this year, I had this fantasy where Ethan, who I hadn't spoken to at the time, came up to me and asked me out. Later, having learned about his shyness, I dreamed of seeing him overcome his bashfulness to come and declare his love for me while stuttering.
"I manage. And you ? Are you able to follow the program?
Of course he did. We are talking about Ethan Landry, the best student in the whole establishment. He succeeds in everything. Except talking to people, it seems. For the umpteenth time now, he glances over my shoulder. His eyes alternated with bewildering speed between my face and what was behind my back. Finally, I turn to see the only person in the hallway besides us, Chad, watching us with a big smile on his face and thumbs up. He lowers his arms the second my eyes notice him and he puts his hands in his pockets, pretending to turn around.
"Isn't that Chad?" I knew it was him, Ethan's best friend. But I just wanted confirmation.
-N-no aha, it’s… I don’t know who… It’s not Chad.” His laugh was forced and it showed. He was staring at the ceiling, shrugging and laughing nervously. Too smiley to be true. If he weren't already incredibly uncomfortable and flushed, his friend's intervention would have caused him to be.
"Why did you come talk to me Ethan?"
Our last discussion was two weeks ago. We had seen each other on Tuesday for my private lessons and it had gone incredibly well. He had scheduled a session for Thursday, of which I was counting every second until D-Day. I was smiling just reading our messages over and over again. Then Thursday arrived after an endless wait. I headed for the library, as usual. My smile glued to my lips, impossible to remove. I was on cloud nine. But Ethan was late, yet he had never been with me. I waited and waited and waited but after an hour and a half I left. He hadn't sent a message, nothing. Since then, not a word has been exchanged. In the hallways, not even a single look had been shared. We walked ignoring each other, like strangers.
"I'm sorry.
-For what ?"
I had some idea why he was sorry but I didn't want to get my hopes up. His eyes water, he opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Ethan extends his hand towards me which I grab by reflex. To be honest, he was starting to worry me. Was he really going to cry? Was it because of me?
“Ethan, are you okay? I forgive you if this is what bothers you so much but please don't put yourself in such a state. Do you want me to walk you home? I'll tell the teacher that you are not feeling well.” As I said that, I adopted the softest voice I could muster.
The curly man holds my hand, he intertwines our fingers together. His tears finally running down his cheeks. A few tears escape him.
“No… he almost sighs.
-'no' what ? I ask, worried.
-I'm not feeling well…"
My concern increases considerably. Forget him which stood me up. His state is much more worrying. Without really thinking about it, my hand rests on his shoulder. I start guiding him to the exit but he seems to realize it. He plants his feet on the ground, shakes his head, then grabs my hand resting on his shoulder.
Ethan was keeping me here.
He raises his angel eyes to me. He was so handsome. His pupils were glowing. The boy opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Frustrated, his tears seem to intensify. He lowers his head, his beautiful curls falling in front of his eyes that I love so much.
"Ethan, you can tell me anything."
I was hoping he would open up to me a bit more. We were close, certainly not like best friends, but I considered myself loyal enough not to snitch his problems to everybody. Plus, I wasn't lying. He could tell me anything, I will help him as best I can. Ethan runs his thumbs over the backs of my hands, a slight smile on his lips. For a second, he seemed at peace.
“My love… he whispers and I almost thought I was dreaming.
But this peace does not last
-What ?
"I..." His lips quivered.
Did he really call me 'my love'? My heart was beating wildly. He sniffles and tries to swallow back his tears, to no avail. Finally, Ethan snaps.
“I…I can't sleep anymore, I can't do it anymore! he exclaims between two cries. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face. I miss you, I want to continue to give you private lessons, even my homework if necessary. I'lldo them for you. Everything, I'll do everything for you…” he had spoken so quickly that he was out of breath. His tears had not stopped, quite the contrary. He had let go.
His sudden outbusrt make me retreat for a split second. The curly man's hands squeeze mine tightly, as if to keep me from moving further away. I don't understand, my absence has affected him so much? Why didn't he come talk to me sooner, then? And since when does he feel that way about me? His words were excessive and I thought he was going a little too fast. He was so desperate that he saw my face all the time? That he was willing to do 'everything' for me? I thought that my crush was not reciprocated, worse, than he considered me as a simple classmate. If I expected that! But where does this outburst come from?
“Breathe Ethan, breathe.”
Like a child, Ethan nods. He tried to calm his breathing while I tried to slow my heartbeat. I knew Ethan hadn't had a lot of conquests in his life, but I never would have imagined him to be so dependent.
"I'm sorry, really sorry...
-Why are you apologizing?
-I left you alone, I swear I haven't forgotten you. I've been thinking about you all the while i was doing it...
So he was really apologizing for that. But why is he making a fuss about it? I had already imagined this scenario and honestly, I expected an apology, a justification and that was it. Why was he so affected? That guilty? His words got mixed up and in the end, I lost track.
- It's okay Ethan, it's not that important. Is that what stresses you out so much?
- What can I do to make you forgive me?
-Ethan, I already told you, I forgive you, it doesn't matter.
-No, he shakes his head, tell me.
Feeling that if I didn't take matters into my own hands the situation was never going to end, I decided to ask for a simple favor.
-Where were you that day? I ask, alluding to the day he stood me up.
-That's stupid." Despite his words, I give a nod encouraging him to continue. Promise me not to be afraid.
-Why would I be afraid of you Ethan? I ask, laughing softly. He's an angel, how can you be afraid of him?
-Promise me."
His fingers gripped my wrist tightly. It almost hurt me. For a moment, the thought that indeed Ethan could scare me crossed my mind. However, I thought of it too late.
-I was supposed to be only ten minutes late, and I apologize for that, but you had to be outside your room for me to get in it.
-What ? I ask laughing, not understanding where he was coming from.
-When I got in your room, there was a perfume that was not yours. But I had already felt it somewhere, on someone. And… I-I'm sorry that pissed me off and… I-I thought you were cheating on me and I was scared and… I cried but I kept smelling the perfume of that-
-Ethan, stop here, I don't understand anything. What are you talking about? I was no longer laughing, the strange details he gave me seemed too precise.
His tears flow, without warning, he takes me in his arms and presses me to his chest. He hugged me tightly, I almost couldn't breathe. His face plunges into my neck, which he was soaking with his tears. He kept saying he was sorry over and over while I tried to understand. Was he telling the truth?
-I felt so guilty for hurting them that I didn't dare come and talk to you. I was terrified that you would run away from me when you eventually find out. It was horrible. Never again. Never part from me again, I beg you. I'll die of it.
I felt his every word knock against the skin of my neck. He was whispering, as if telling me a secret. And maybe it was. I was praying that another student would come down the hall and see us but the odds were low, very low. Ethan had cornered me at the end of my class, everyone had left. The sun was already falling asleep outside the window. Panic quickly set in within me.
-Ethan you're crushing me! I wasn't even sure he heard me since buried in his chest, my voice was muffled.
-I thought you were cheating on me b-but… I’m sorry for thinking that, sorry sorry sorry sorry...
What did he do ? Who was he talking about when he said “having hurt them”? Where is the shy Ethan who softened my heart? Unconsciously, I start to shake. My arms try to tear themselves away from the grip he had on them but he was crushing me too hard; I couldn't move. His arms clung to mine along my body.
-I should never be mad at you again, ever again. Do you forgive me ?
That's when it comes back to me; the framework. Coming home the evening of the day Ethan and I ended our relationship, my frame was splintered to the ground. The shards of glass had been flying all over my room. The photo remained intact; a picture of me and my roommate, but the frame was dead. I hadn't given more importance than that to the situation itself, my window was open and then said roommate was at home during the day. I just thought that a draft had knocked it down or that my friend was clumsy: it happens after all.
No, it was him.
-Ethan, I speak in a shaky voice, please let me go.
-No ! he yells. You promised me ! You promised me you wouldn't be afraid of me!
-E-Ethan please….
- I'm sorry, i'm sorry !
Ethan, six feet tall, collapses to his knees in front of me. He buries his face in my stomach, his arms wrapping around my waist. He speaks in my skin, muttering countless excuses and promises. Immediately seizing the opportunity, I grab him by the shoulders and push him with all my might to the ground. Surprised, he let me go. His back hits the floor, he lets out a plaintive moan mixed with his cries. Without thinking, I turn my back to flee. But Ethan is strangely fast. He gives me a powerful kick in the shin which in turn makes me fall on my stomach.
Ethan is crying. His cheeks are drowned in tears and red. I don't find him as handsome as before when he slightly pulls up his t-shirt to pull a knife out of his pants.
"Why are you doing this to me ?" he growled, his face lowered to the ground. So far, he's let it go. But there, his energy had changed. He was a murderer.
I crawl on the ground, moving away from him, my eyes filled with terror. I'm gonna die. I'm going to die here, alone, killed by the boy I loved. Ethan towered over me, taking small steps towards me.
“I'm begging you…” I cried.
I was desperate, there were no more solutions. I thought, as I disappeared, maybe Chad would figure out who my killer was, since he was the last one to see me other than Ethan.
"You told me you wouldn't be scared..." he pouted as he crouched down on top of me. Afterwards, his actions keep surprising me as he sits on my pelvis. He had fun bringing his knife to my neck and caressing me with it. The coldness of the metal makes my hair stand on and shivers appear all over my body.
"Ethan, please take that away from me... yelling at him wouldn't get me anywhere, so I was begging.
- No, don't be afraid. You know very well that I would never hurt you.”
His promises, I wanted no more. I wanted him to leave me alone, forever. My hands were free, yet I no longer controlled them. They were completely flat on the ground. I couldn't lift a single finger.
“Do you want me to prove my devotion to you? the curly boy points the knife at him.
The sharp tip of the weapon is now to his throat. Ethan looks at me and smiles. His free hand lay comfortably flat on my chest, holding me firmly to the floor. The vision unfolding in front of me was horrific. I was praying that he wouldn't be able to take his own life in front of me, on top of me! I didn't want to see it though, my eyes refused to look away. I was terrified that he would plunge his knife in me without warning.
- You love me too, right? he asks, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Tell me that you love me. You love me so much, my love. You love me so much you're ready to die for it.
-Ethan listen…
-Answer." he orders.
The roles had switched. He had given me a position of superiority, adoring me, throwing himself at my feet for even a pardon, but he was sick of it. And now not even my pleas will reach him.
“Imagine how romantic that would be, huh? May the students meet us tomorrow morning, both dead and entwined. It would be wonderful.” His smile was that of a sick man. What more do you need, my death? You want me to stick this pretty little knife in my heart for you? That I tear it down and give it to you as an offering? Come on, tell me you love me. I know you do.”
Finally, I manage to close my eyes. His description had managed to repel me enough to allow my brain to kick in the survival instinct. Ethan laughs mischievously. I feel him move, all his weight crushing my body. His lips settle on my neck for a second.
“You want me to kill myself, huh? I'll kill myself because of you. All because you don't love me. How can you be so selfish? he kisses my cheek. Tell me you love me, my love. I need it. His thumb passes over my eyelid gently, making me open my eyes.
I knew I was stuck. He was one step ahead of me, physically and mentally speaking. He had me stuck. My eyes were red and swollen.
-I… I love you… I whisper, choked cries leaving my mouth at the same time.
-Where is my first name, pretty ?
And to think that I was dreaming of saying those words to him a few minutes earlier.
-I… I love you Ethan… The curly man's face lights up, a gaping smile erasing his crazed expression.
- There, it wasn't so complicated now, was it?"
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That was my first story in english. please do not hesitate to gives me advices whatsoever, like if you think that the plot was too quick, ethan too out of character, not enough details, everything ! I hope you liked reading it anyways.
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dilf-lover99 · 1 year
Text
Playing Pretend | J.P.
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Pairing: James Potter x Female Gryffindor!Reader
Summary: When Reader's best friend James requests her assistance capturing the attention of Lily Evans, the two decide to make some changes to their relationship. Sort of.
Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers / fake dating (two superior tropes), not much of a slow burn (sorry guys), a healthy amount of pining, maybe a teeny bit of angst if you squint, a kiss, i think that's it this is like the softest thing i've ever written
Word Count: 5.1k
a/n: i'm sorryyyyyy !!! i'm sorry i ghosted you, i promise it was an accident ! i've been working a TON lately, but i finally found a bit of time to write and i missed it so much. i hope this was worth the wait ! let me know what you think. p.s. love u lots<3
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There were three things in life of which you were certain.
The first is that, no matter how skeptical one may be, the sorting hat irrefutably knows best. Being sorted into Gryffindor on your first day at Hogwarts was the greatest thing that ever happened to you, it introduced you to the friends who became your family.
The second is that you will never, swear on Merlin’s beard, read a book you’ve borrowed from Remus in the bath; Some lessons are best learned after making mistakes.
The third, and most important, is as follows : James Fleamont Potter is, and always will be, your very best friend.
You’re confident that there’s nearly nothing in the world the two of you wouldn’t do for each other if asked.
James has always been there for you in times of need, with a comforting embrace or a ludicrously ill-advised joke. He always talks out your problems with you, agreeing with your side of the situation even when you think you’re in the wrong.
There’s not a single problem the two of you haven’t been able to overcome together.
You’ve also spent countless waking hours of your life pretending to hold a flicker of interest in the precise mixture of colours in Lily Evans’ eyes, the scent of her hair, or wether or not she laughed at James’ joke that day.
The price of friendship, you suppose.
“This is the year, (y/n), I can feel it!” Your bespectacled best friend announces from his position sprawled across your bed on his stomach.
You withhold the good-natured urge to roll your eyes, exhaling an small breath through your nose with a smile, “You say that every year, James.” Ceasing the previous circles you were spinning in your desk chair, you make eye contact with James and continue, “Though I admire your persistence, perhaps it’s time to give it a rest? Maybe take up another hobby? Clearly quidditch isn’t keeping you busy enough to leave Evans be.”
“Ha Ha.” James grumbles sarcastically. The two of you have conversations like this regularly, though your attempts to divert his interests have consistently proven futile. “It’s different this year. I’m different this year. I’m trying something new,” He slowly pulls himself up from his relaxed position, now sitting at the edge of the bed to face you directly, “If you agree to my plan, that is.”
“Well, that depends,” You hesitate, eyeing your best friend suspiciously. Over the course of your friendship you’ve always had a difficult time saying no to James, which has gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble.
“Is there any part of this plan that could result in our expulsion? Or worse- Will my hands be stained again? It took me weeks to get the dye off my fingers after your last so called plan.” 
Without recounting each and every detail, James’ last plan involved the two of you, a pint of florescent pink hair dye, and the head of an unsuspecting Severus Snape, and resulted in semi-permanent dye-stained hands and a rather stern talking-to from Dumbledore.
James laughs mirthfully at the memory, “Come on, people loved that! We loved that!”
“Yes, we did.” You agree with a grin despite yourself.
James throws a wink your way, shaking his head amusedly before speaking again, “No, this’ll be nothing like that. Entirely free of repercussions, I swear it.” His tone resembles that of when he’s asking you for a favour, and judging by the way he’s dancing around the words, you have a feeling you’re not going to welcome his idea with open arms.
“Alright, Potter. Out with it, will you?” You voice lightly, “It can’t be worse than any other plan you’ve had.”
“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” He rushes out, the shadow of a blush forming evenly across his pale cheeks at his own words.
“O-kay,” You draw out, eyes wide, “Perhaps I was wrong.”
“I know it sounds mad, but hear me out.” He starts quickly, “I was talking to Pads about it and he was all ‘Maybe if you weren’t so available all the time, she’d actually want you around’” He lowers his voice an octave, a dramatized attempt at impersonating your shared friend, “And I know what you’re going to say, ‘Why would you take relationship advice from Sirius of all people’” His voice raises higher now as he butchers an impression of your own, “But he had a point! And I thought, well, I wouldn’t be available if I had a girlfriend, would I?” 
You’re unsure if you should interrupt him or not, equal parts amusement and disapproval swirl around in your brain as he speaks.
“But I couldn’t do that to a real girl, y’know?” If he notices the icy glare you shoot his way at this, he does a bang-up job pretending he doesn’t, “Just string her about whilst I’m in love with Evans- But I could pretend! And who better to pretend with than my own best girl?” He finishes with a smile so sweet you almost forget the preposterous nonsense he’s just spouted.
Almost.
“There are about ten things wrong with what you’ve just said- Eleven if you count that horrible impression of me! Merlin, James, do I really sound like that to you?” James chuckles at you, running his lithe fingers through the charming mess of his curls.
“Don’t answer that.” You speak before he has a chance to reply, abandoning your chair in favour of standing in front of him.
“You really have gone mad, haven’t you? What exactly do you think is going to happen? She’ll see us together and be overcome with jealousy? Leaving her no choice but to confess her undying love for you?” You highlight the absurdity of his proposition, poking fun with dramatic sighs and emphatic hand gestures.
“Well it sounds a bit nutty when you say it that way, with your sarcasm and the like, but yes. That’s what I’d like to happen.”
“It’s not going to happen, James.” You deadpan.
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not how it works!” You state, humour and disbelief mingling together, “If she doesn’t want you now, why’d she want you after you get a girlfriend? And if she did, would that really be the type of girl you’d fancy anyhow? A boyfriend-wanter?” 
James chuckles amusedly, completely missing the nuance of your words, “Boyfriend-wanter?” He echoes teasingly.
You sigh emphatically, taking a seat on the bed beside your best friend, “You’ve lost the plot, mate.”
James’ previous contentment is no longer at the forefront of his emotions, instead there’s a vulnerable sincerity that tugs at your heart strings with all its might. “Look, I know it’s a long shot, but if there’s even a chance of it working, I just- I have to try, (y/n),” His warm hazel eyes are boring directly into your own with a distinct sense of desperation as he mutters a final, “Please?”
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“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, James.” Your voice wavers with nerves at the thought of walking hand-in-hand with James into the Great Hall where all your friends sit, blissfully unaware of the delusional plan James has concocted to win the affections of Lily Evans.
“Come on, (y/n), it won’t be so bad. You used to love holding my hand.” James jests with an irritatingly loveable grin, not-so-subtly referencing the ancient crush you harboured toward him in the beginning of your first year.
“Yes, very well, James. I had a crush on you when I was eleven. I also slept with a Beatles nightlight and cut the crusts off my toasts.” You’re starting to wonder how on earth you could’ve agreed to this when James grabs your hand, intertwining his slender fingers with your own and giving a gentle, reaffirming squeeze.
“Thank you for doing this. I know it’s barmy, truly, but it means everything that you’re willing to try.” His voice is softer than you’ve heard in a long time, and in the back of your mind you can’t help but think this is the boy you’d fancied all those years ago.
You squeeze his hand back assuringly, “I’d try anything for you.” You smile sincerely.
“Oh really? Should you have happened to change your mind about a certain prank involving-”
“Almost anything.” You interrupt with an amused roll of your eyes.
The two of you share another smile before turning toward the looming entryway to the Great Hall.
“Shall we, darling?” James emphasizes the final word teasingly.
“We’d best, before I change my mind, love.” You retort.
You’re familiar with the expression ‘so silent, you could hear a pin drop’ but you’ve never experienced anything of the sort. Until now, that is.
The moment you and James walk through the doors, all eyes are on the two of you. More specifically, all eyes are continuously moving from you, to James, to your intertwined hands, then back again.
In the two days since you agreed to James’ scheme, you’ve remained confident that it wouldn’t work, surely nobody would believe you went from best friends to being in a relationship overnight.
Your confidence was misplaced.
As the two of you walk closer to your usual spot at the Gryffindor table, your hand squeezes James’ tighter than you’d like to admit, painstakingly aware of just how many eyes are on you. You can hear the poorly concealed whisperings of each gossiping classmate you pass by, “Finally!” “See, I told you they were shagging.” “What does he see in her?” The latter may have stung just a bit.
“Alright?” James whispers close to your ear, fuelling another buzz of observations from your peers.
You nod your head perceptibly, a tad caught off guard from all the attention you’re receiving, “Yes, swell. You?”
“To be determined.” James tugs your hand gently, signalling you to stop walking as you’ve reached your destination at the Gryffindor table.
“Good morning.” You greet your friends with a smile in an effort to maintain normalcy. Taking your usual seat, Sirius is on your left and James sits to your right beside Remus. You promised James to keep the plan a secret from everyone, including your shared best friends, but with the way they’re looking at you now, you’re ready to spill your guts.
“Good morning? S’that it then?” Sirius starts incredulously, “The two of you leg it in here holding hands and we’re supposed to go about our day as normal?” 
“I think what he means to say,” Remus interjects, his tone soft, a welcome juxtaposition from Sirius’ brash one, “Is that this-” he gestures between you and James with a mild wave of his hand, “Is new. We hadn’t realized the two of you were… Romantically involved.” His statement ends as more of a question, a gentle probe to explain what’s going on.
You look to James, raising your brows questioningly as if to say you've created this plan, now you have to do the ground work.
He gets the message.
“It is a bit out of nowhere, isn’t it?” James smiles, not so subtly making eye contact with Lily, who’s sitting directly across the table, “We spent all these years as friends and never thought twice about it, um- But then…” He trails off, realizing he’s not half as good a liar as he’d hoped he was.
You close your eyes with a deep sigh, knowing it’s now your responsibility to make this believable.
James Potter and his bloody plans.
“It’s alright, James, love,” You speak up after he’s gone silent, “We can tell them.” He’s going to owe you for this, and you intend to cash in the favour for once, “I’ve fancied you as long as I’ve known you.”
Your friends are paying more attention to you now than they have to anything, ever, clinging onto your every word, “Bit embarrassing if I’m honest, cos’ you never really saw me that way.” 
You remember hearing once that the most believable lies stem from the truth, and though it was back in year one, and hardly went as deep as you’re leading on, this is a version of how you’d felt about James at one point in time.
You work hard to fight back a chuckle at the look of pity on Dorcas’s face as she takes in your words, “But, I guess after I finally stopped trying to get you to see me that way, that’s when you actually started to.” Now you’re just discussing the plan in plain sight, though your friends are drinking it up quicker than their pumpkin juice.
James squeezes your hand with a firm grip, as if to warn you not to say anything more and spoil his plan right in front of Lily.
But he’s also looking at you with a discernible note of gratitude in his eyes, never quite tiring of your knack for rescuing him in these situations.
“Yes, quite right, love, I’ve seen the light. Thank you all for tuning in, this concludes the interview portion of our breakfast. Now, over to Padfoot for the weather!” James voices deftly, eyes scanning Lily for any semblance of a negative reaction, and failing to hide his displeasure when all she offers in return is a bright smile and a soft “Congratulations, you two!”
That could’ve gone better.
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“Figures the first time I’ve a date to one of these things, he’s only going for another girl.” You voice to James in the other room as you struggle to reach the zip on the back of your dress. 
You’re joking, though it’s not lost on you that this is the only time someone’s asked you to be their date to a dance. But you aren’t inclined to waste the opportunity. You’ve picked out a lovely dress and your hair is behaving particularly graciously tonight.
“Come on, love, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of offers once our plan takes off. And tonight’s the night! I’ve a good feeling about it.” Ever the optimist, your best friend.
“Oh, bugger off!” You shout frustratedly after multiple unsuccessful attempts at zipping up.
“I wasn’t trying to upset you! I only meant-” James’ panicked tone brings an instant smile to your face, all previous traces of dissatisfaction long gone.
“Not you, James, my dress. I can’t get the bloody zip to go up!”
“Oh,” He chuckles minutely, “Well c’mere then, let me help.” 
It’s a proper cliche, you think to yourself. Like something you’d see in a cheesy romance film, when the girl walks down the staircase in a fancy dress, everything’s suddenly in slow motion, and the lad’s just standing there thinking how am I just now realizing how beautiful she is?
It’s a proper bloody cliche, yet it’s exactly how you feel as you walk into the room and see James standing there in his dance attire.
His crisp white dress shirt is clinging faultlessly to his chest and arms, the muscles he’s defined playing quidditch showcasing themselves quite proudly, the black fabric of his dress pants pulled taught against his thighs. His mop of dark curls sits charmingly atop his head, a perpetual vision of captivating chaos. His rounded glasses are resting perfectly on the bridge of his nose, shimmering hazel eyes blinking delicately from behind them.
How are you just now realizing how beautiful he is?
“(y/n)?” James’ voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you’re thankful beyond words that he can’t hear your thoughts.
“Yes?” You clear your throat, simultaneously attempting to clear your mind.
“Turn around, love, I’ll fix your zip.”
Right.
His nimble fingers make quick work, sliding the zip from the small of your back to the top of the dress, a subtle trail of gooseflesh makes itself at home along the skin that’s been gently grazed by his own.
“There we are. Go on then, give us a twirl.” James’ playful voice sounds, you oblige good-naturedly and give a quick spin.
“That’s a lovely dress. Is it new?” His eyes scan your frame appreciatively, not quite as lengthy as the tour your own eyes had taken upon him moments ago, but you feel your chest grow tighter at the thought that, just maybe, he could be having one of those cliche moments too.
“As a matter of fact it is,” Your smile grows as you think back to the day before, when Dorcas dragged you and a reluctant Marlene to Diagon Alley to buy your outfits for the dance, “It’s her first dance with a date! Not just a date, a boyfriend. We have to pick the perfect dress.” She was far more excited than you were, especially considering it isn’t a real date, but her enthusiasm had made it a day to remember. “If Dorcas were here, you’d have just made her entire week.”
“Do you know what Lily’s wearing?” 
Not an unexpected question in the slightest.
What is unexpected, however, is the pang in your chest at it.
That’s new.
“No, I don’t. Sorry. ” You say, not particularly sorry at all.
“Are you alright?” James’ voice is laced with confusion at your sudden shift in mood.
Curse your best friend for knowing you so well.
“Mhm. Shall we go?” You place a smile back on your lips, taking care not to let it fall this time.
“After you, your majesty.” James answers in his most posh voice, gesturing toward the door and lowering his head in a mock bow.
It’s not real.
When you first agreed to James’ plan, this thought brought you comfort, peace, even. It’s not real, thank heavens, and it will be over before you know it.
Why does the thought feel so violent now?
Why is it tearing at the seams of your mind with each of his gentle touches and crooked smiles?
Why are you so reluctant to let go of James’ arm when you arrive at the dance?
And why have you spent the last twenty minutes sitting here, watching James watch Lily, as an unwelcome sense of envy blooms in your chest?
Because you wish it was real.
“Oh, come on! That was proper funny!” Sirius’s voice sounds from beside you, pulling you away from your internal revelations.
When did he get here?
“Was it?” You question. Your words come across sarcastic, but that’s a farce, you’ve no idea what he said.
“Yes, it was actually. You were just too busy making eyes at Prongs to notice.” 
And when did he get so observant?
“I was not.” You lie.
“Right,” Sirius starts, not believing you for a moment, “This is my life now, is it? My best mates’ll be too busy snogging to laugh at my jokes? What a cruel fate. Worse than death, really. Just put me out of my misery now.” He throws himself back into his chair melodramatically, posture now resembling a sickly figure in an old victorian painting.
What a drama queen.
Still, you feel the need to reassure him. Cutting off his theatrics, you place your hand on his bicep, giving a tender squeeze of affirmation, “Leave it out! I could never be too busy for you,” He straightens at that, lips lifting into a grin as you continue, “You just have to tell funnier jokes.” His grin disappears faster than it formed.
“Cheeky!”
You continue bantering back and forth, resulting in a fit of laughter that finally breaks James’ gaze from Lily. 
He focuses his attention on the two of you, unwilling to acknowledge the feeling blossoming in his chest when he sees your hand on Sirius, a brilliant smile having overtaken your face.
“Care to dance, love?” James questions, faster than you have time to process.
You remove your hand from Sirius’ arm, sparing a glance toward Lily. He’s trying to make her jealous, that’s why you’re here after all. But she’s not looking at you and James. In fact, she’s looking in another direction entirely.
“I’m alright mate, thanks. Take (y/n), though.” Sirius quips, ushering you onto your feet.
James guides you to the dance floor with a gentle hand on the small of your back, spinning you in a half circle to hold you properly once you’ve reached your destination.
Your heart is beating at an accelerated pace but you’re doing your damndest to hide it. “Is she looking?” You question softly, hiding any dejection from your voice.
“What’s that?” James asks.
You wonder how he didn’t hear you, his eyes having been glued to you since you started dancing. You were beginning to wonder if you had something on your face.
“Lily,” You start again, “Is she watching us?” You don’t know why you ask again, you’re not sure you want to know the answer.
“Oh. Yes-” James clears his throat, “Yeah, she’s looking.” 
Right.
His eyes never actually waver from your own. He doesn’t do much to pretend that he’s spotted her in the crowd or discerned wether she was looking or not. To be honest, he’d forgotten about the plan for a moment.
The song ends but before you can move from James’ hold he pulls you closer, “We should keep dancing.” He mumbles, then continues, almost as an afterthought, “Y’know, make it look more realistic.” 
But he couldn’t care less about that right now, he’s simply not ready for you to leave his arms.
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It’s been six weeks since the plan started, an entire month and a half of pretending.
And you don’t think you can pretend any more.
Pretending to be James’ girlfriend isn’t the hard part. In fact, it’s the best part. Countless days of holding his hand in the Great Hall and resting your head upon his shoulder in the Gryffindor common room. Those moments are purely blissful.
Pretending that your feelings for James aren’t real? That’s the hard part.
In the beginning, James had started calling you love or darling for show, a way for you to appear more like a real couple. He must have grown accustomed to it, because they’re all he seems to use anymore, even when nobody else is around.
And your heart still skips a beat each and every time you hear it.
Somehow, it’s become routine for you to do your homework while watching his quidditch practices, despite the fact that Lily has only ever seen you there once. You tried explaining this but all James had said was “That’s alright, having you here helps me play better.”
Now you attend every practice.
You don’t know how to respond when your friends tell you how happy they are that you and James have gotten together, that they can tell how deeply you care for him. They’re right, partially anyway, you do care for James deeply.
But you’re not together. Not for real, anyway.
And it’s driving you mad.
Which is why you’ve decided that it has to end.
You’ve been thinking about this for weeks, ever since the night of the dance, when you realized you wanted more. But you weren’t sure what to tell James.
If you tell him the truth, that you’ve fallen for him, it could end your friendship, which is a chance you’re not willing to take. But you’ve also never been good at lying to him, he knows you far too well.
You’ve finally decided on a good old-fashioned half-truth.
You’re going to tell him that the plan hasn’t been working, that if he wants to get Lily’s attention he’ll have to go about it another way. Spending another year watching him pine over Lily won’t be easy, but it can’t be any harder than this; Seeing what a wonderful boyfriend James would be, being so close to the boy you want but never truly being able to have him.
The soft click of your door notifies you of James’ arrival. Taking a final deep breath, you find your eyes meeting his own, willing yourself not to get lost in them and lose your resolve.
“Hello, love. How was your day?” James questions earnestly, taking a seat in your desk chair, his eyes hold an undetectable glimmer of adoration as they take in your figure.
“I think we should break up!” You rush out at once, afraid if you wait another second you’ll chicken out again.
James’ eyebrows pull together in a wistful display of despondence, “What? Why?” His voice is rather melancholy and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being broken up with for real. 
You sigh dispiritedly, taking a seat at the edge of your bed as you face James.
“Think about it. The plan isn’t exactly working, is it? I mean, when was the last time you even talked to Lily?” 
James is quick to defend, “We’ve just spoken yesterday! In the common room, remember? When you and Moony were talking about that smarty-pants book, she was all ‘your girlfriend’s too good for you, potter’, and I told her she was right. Surely you remember that?”
You fight back a smile at the memory, of course you remember that, you think of his words about as often as you breathe.
“James that was last week.”
He stops for a moment, counting the days on his fingers before deciding you're correct, “Okay… Alright, well, that doesn’t mean we should break up! We’ll just- We just have to try harder.”
You shake your head in opposition, but he speaks again before you have the chance.
“We can make it work, I know it.” James’ voice holds a perceptible air of desperation.
He knows you’re not really dating, right?
“Come on, James, it’s for the best. Surely you’re tired of me by now.” You joke, trying to appear unaffected by the nuance of your words.
“No.” James voices immediately, sounding as though he’s offended at the very idea of it, “I’m not tired of you. I could never be tired of you.”
“Have you any idea how much harder you’re making this?” You mumble under your breath, though it wasn’t quiet enough to go unheard by James.
He’s looking at you softly, almost tenderly and he lowers his voice a bit, no longer on edge, “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Try again.” James tilts his head, pushing his glasses up when they attempt to slide from the bridge of his nose.
“I just don’t think we should do it anymore, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” He knows very well that’s not all. He can tell by the way you’re avoiding eye contact that there’s more to it.
“Yep! So what do you say, friends?” You finally chance eye contact, holding your hand out to shake his own in an effort to regain control of the situation.
His hand grabs your own and holds it delicately.
“What aren’t you saying?”
“Nothing! I’m saying plenty of things. Loads of things. Things, things, things!”
“(y/n).” He states plainly, though he’s unable to hide the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, “If there’s something going on, you can tell me. We can tell each other anything.” He’s pleading with you now.
And you aren’t sure if it’s his words, or the way he speaks them, or the fact that his hand is still grasping your own, but you’re unable to keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth.
“I can’t keep pretending, alright? You’re driving me mad.” Both of your eyes widen at your confession, and James takes his hand back smoothly.
“Oh,” He clears his throat, a teasing undertone returning to his voice, though you can discern a hint of sadness in his eyes, “It’s you who’s tired of me then, innit?”
“What? No! That’s not-” You sigh frustratedly, standing from the bed and beginning to pace a small path back and forth on the floor, “James, if it were possible for me to be tired of you, it would’ve happened a long time ago.”
He breathes out a chuckle at this, visibly relaxing once he realizes he must’ve misunderstood.
You stop pacing, looking at James as he stands up in front of you.
“Can we start this whole thing over? It’s gotten a bit confusing if I’m honest.” You question.
“No, it’s okay. You were right, it’s best we call it off now.” James starts, adding quietly, “Before anyone gets hurt.”
Your gaze snaps up to his own, confusion etched upon your features, “Why- Why would anyone get hurt?” You swallow thickly, ignoring the sudden uptick of your pulse.
James sighs, bringing a hand up and running it through his curls, “Because it’s true. What you said before, about the plan not working. It’s not. And If I’m being honest, I couldn’t care less. I haven’t given a thought to the plan, or Lily, in weeks.” 
You know he can’t mean it the way it sounds, he can’t mean it the way you want him to mean it. But your heartbeat is racing rampant at the possibility that he does.
“And it’s why I don’t want to end things,” He continues, “Because, the way I see it, if something makes you sad when it’s ending, it must’ve been pretty wonderful while it was happening.” He’s rambling, but the contents of his words, and the fact that they’re directed at you, makes you want him to go on forever.
“You’re my best friend, and you always will be, I swear it! But, I just… I can’t help but want more.”
You’ve heard enough.
Well actually, you could never hear enough, but you’ve heard enough to propel yourself forward, urgently pressing your lips to James’ own.
He wasn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t waste a moment once he realizes what’s happening. 
James places his calloused hands on either of your cheeks, gently pulling you closer to himself. He smiles slightly into the kiss when you bring one of your own hands up to the nape of his neck and run your fingers softy through the curls there.
The kiss feels as though it’s lasted forever, and yet you never want it to end. But your lips part a fair distance as you rest your foreheads together in contentment, taking a moment to catch your breath.
“So that’s what you meant when you said I was driving you mad.” James teases, donning a grin so beautiful your heart could burst just from looking at it.
“Yes, I suppose it is.” You try to sound annoyed but you’re sure you’re missing the mark, wearing a blinding smile of your own.
“Well that settles it then,” James loops his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his body, “No more pretending.” His delicate lips meet your own once more in another intoxicating embrace.
Note to self : James Fleamont Potter’s plans don’t always end in disaster.
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finniestoncrane · 3 months
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Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.
General Headcanons
KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh
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General Headcanons
this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there
he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss
he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him
bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something
yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body
i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline
he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?
if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb
you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing
Relationship Headcanons
when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going
he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles
he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!
gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one
he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover
there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with
hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety
holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger
he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it
i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)
he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor
NSFW Headcanons
he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually
speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him
he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...
of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close
he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy
obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this
body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle
he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does
cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy
he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting
this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle
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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months
Text
SLUT!
chapter eight: dying to see how this one ends
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Following the fight, Peter saw the back of a squad car for the first time. He was taken straight to the local police station while few officers stayed behind to get stories from witnesses in the gym.
At the station, Peter was put in a holding cell and given an ice pack for his busted knuckles. After half an hour of sitting alone, the door to the cell opened and Brad Davis was pushed inside. He had two tissues stuffed up his nose and a black eye forming on his right eye. The boys made eye contact but felt too defeated to fear the other.
“What are you doing here?” Peter asked when Brad plopped beside him on the bench.
“What do you think? The police showed up and one of the soccer girls showed them the video of me saying I slipped something in Y/n’s drink. I can’t believe it. Did you know that’s a felony?”
“Uh, yeah.” Peter said flatly. “You’re really not supposed to do that.”
“How was I supposed to know? I’ve never done it before.” Brad mumbled. “And I wouldn’t again.”
“Would you really never do it again?” Peter asked skeptically. Brad was quiet for a minute and stared off at the wall. Peter silently handed over his ice pack and Brad accepted it with a sarcastic smile. He put it on his black eye and sighed.
“I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m so angry all the time. Or why I let it ruin my friendship with Y/n. Have you ever wanted a girl so badly that you start to hate her?”
“No.” Peter said without hesitation.
“Oh.” Brad said and turned away from Peter.
Another 30 minutes went by and Peter was starting to spiral. He paced back and forth in the cell while chewing his nails.
“What’s taking them so long?” He whined.
“They’ll get you when they’re done booking you. Don’t freak out. It’s annoying.” Brad mumbled.
“Of course I’m freaking out. If I get convicted, I’m going to jail.”
“Relax. You’ll be fine. Assault is a misdemeanor. And I’m sure your scrawny ass is a first offender so you’ll get a fine at best.” Brad rolled his eyes.
“Woah. How’d you know that?” Peter stopped pacing and looking at Brad in surprise.
“I’ve been arrested for misdemeanors before. My dad just bails me out.”
“Which I’m sure he’ll do this time.” Peter rolled his eyes and sat back down.
“No. I called him when they brought me in but my mom answered.” Brad said as he looked at the ground.
“What did she say?” Peter wondered when he saw how distant Brad sounded. Brad turned his face away from Peter and rubbed the back of his neck.
“She said her best friend in college killed herself after a boy told everyone she gave him an STD. She said she couldn’t handle the bullying.” Brad said quietly. Peter stared at him for a minute and debated making him feel worse. There was a lesson to be learned here and Peter needed to know Brad understood the gravity of his actions.
“You could’ve done the same to Y/n, you know.” Peter said in a soft voice. He wasn’t being accusatory, just honest.
“She never would’ve done that.” Brad scoffed but Peter could tell he didn’t believe himself.
“How do you know?” Peter asked. “You didn’t know her. And you didn’t let anyone know her either. You told everyone who she was and they believed you. You erased her. She very well could have hurt herself to take her name back.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad for her. It was just a joke.” Brad said after a long beat of silence.
“To you. To you, “slut” was just a word. To her, it was her entire identity. All because of you.” Peter told him, feeling angry again. He wasn’t worried about protecting Brads feelings anymore. Now, he wanted him to take some accountability. Brad was quiet for a minute as he thought about the way he treated you the past few years.
“The first time I called her a slut, I didn’t realize how easy it would be to do it a second time.” Brad admitted.
“Me either.” Peter realized and pictured your face the time he called you a slut. He blinked back tears as he replayed the night he lost you. Brad noticed Peter was tearing up and felt himself get emotional. He cleared his throat and tried to choke it down but he couldn’t stop the tears that threatened his eyes.
“I didn’t think I’d end up like this. I didn’t think I’d be this guy.” Brad said quietly.
“You don’t have to be this guy forever. You can change.” Peter told him.
“How?” Brad shrugged helplessly. “She’s never gonna forgive me.”
“She might not. But you can still apologize. And then be better to the next girl.”
“What if I can’t be better? What if this is all I am?”
“I don’t think is all you are. Y/n told me you used to be a good friend.”
“She said that?” Brad asked in surprise.
“Yeah. So I know you can be better. You just have to try.” Peter told him. While Brad thought about the conversation, Peter heard footsteps approaching the cell. He looked up and saw May walking up with an officer.
“Hey, jailbird.” May said while a tight, very sarcastic smile.
“May?” Peter got up and walked over to her.
“Come on. They said I can take you home. Isn’t that nice? I get to take my nephew home from jail.” She said sarcastically as a the officer unlocked the cell. Peter got out and immediately hugged May.
“May, I’m so sorry. I can explain everything.”
“You don’t have to. She already told me what happened.” May said and pointed through a window into the station lobby. Peter could see you sitting in one of the waiting room chairs and blinked in surprise.
“She’s here?” He asked May in disbelief.
“Yeah. She’s the one that called me. The cops told me she got here right after you did. That’s your girlfriend right?” May asked. Peter felt his heart sink when he realized he had yet to tell May that you had broken up.
“What did she tell you?” Peter asked to change the topic.
“She said you stood up for her when the boys were calling her a slut. But why do I feel like that’s now the whole story?” May asked skeptically. Peter looked her in the eyes and sighed knowing he was about to disappoint her.
“Because it’s not the whole story. I called her a slut too.” Peter admitted.
“My nephew called a woman a slut? Is that how I raised you?” May asked and folded her arms.
“No. It’s not.”
“Then why did you do that? I thought she was your girlfriend?”
“Because I was angry. And I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me.”
“Hm. I see. And did you feel better after you called her that?” May asked him.
“No.” Peter sighed. “I felt worse.”
“I thought so. Go apologize. Now.” May turned him around and pushed him in your direction. Peter wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans before going out into the waiting room. When you saw him coming towards you, you stood up and nervously folded your arms.
“Hey.” He smiled weakly.
“Hi, Peter.” You nodded curtly.
“What are you doing here?” He asked you.
“I had to talk to the police to give my statement about Brads party.“ You explained and left out the party about wanting to make sure he was okay.
“My aunt said you told her what happened. Thank you for that. I don’t know how I would’ve explained to her what happened.”
“You’re welcome. And I should be thanking you too. You beat the shit out of Brad for me. I would’ve done it myself but I’m a little more of a kicker.” You halfheartedly joked, making Peter relax a little.
“You don’t have to thank me. I should’ve done it the first time I heard him call you a slut.” Peter replied. You shrugged in agreement as Peter thought back to that night at the party.
“And you should’ve beat me up when I called you one.” He added as he stared at the floor.
“Yeah. Maybe I should’ve.” You laughed softly. An awkward silence settled between you and neither of you knew what to say. Luckily, it didn’t last long as May came out into the waiting room and stood beside Peter.
“Ready to go home?” She asked him.
“I guess I don’t have any other choice since I am definitely not allowed back on campus.” Peter sighed.
“Actually, they were going to expel you but since I saw Brad throw the first punch, they lowered it to just a suspicion.“ You told him. Peter looked at you curiously and you smiled timidly.
“But Brad didn’t-“ Peter began.
“A lot of people saw him start the fight.” You shrugged. “The school understood that you were just acting in self defense. So don’t worry. Your scholarship is okay.”
“You covered for me?” Peter whispered in disbelief.
“Yeah, well. You covered me first.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. Peter broke into a smile and you finally looked into his eyes to smile as well. The moment was interrupted by Brad shouting from his holding cell.
“Y/n!” He called to you. You gave Peter a confused look before motioning for him to follow you to where Brad was.
“What do you want?” You asked him.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m so sorry. About all of it.” Brad told you. You looked at Peter skeptically before looking back at Brad.
“You’re sorry?” You doubted.
“I am. I never meant for it to go this far. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me but I just need you to know how sorry I am.” Brad apologized. You smiled at the unexpected apology and nodded your head.
“I appreciate the apology, Brad. That’s not something I ever thought I’d hear from you.” You told him. Peter smiled as he watched the interaction and hoped what he had said to Brad is what inspired him to try to be better.
“Now that we’re cool, do you think you could tell them I didn’t actually slip something in your drink?” Brad asked. “I’ll get kicked out of school if they convict me and my parents already said they’re not bailing me out.”
Your smile dropped when you realized the apology was just a way to gain your trust so he could ask for a favor. He didn’t actually care and he definitely hadn’t changed. Peter shut his eyes in disappointment and hung his head in shame. He thought his conversation with Brad would’ve had some effect on him but it clearly didn’t.
“Oh. You want me to tell the police that you didn’t do something that we both know you actually did do?”
“Yes. Please?” Brad pleaded as he rested his cheek against one of the bars.
“Oh. I get it. Kinda like how you told people that I did things we both know I didn’t do?” You asked and tilted your head to the side. Peter folded his lips to hold back his laughter when he realized what you were doing. Unfortunately for Brad, he hadn’t caught on yet.
“Yeah. Like that.” Brad nodded eagerly. You laughed warmly and nudged Peter, prompting him to laugh as well. Brad was a little confused but laughed as well and assumed you were going to take his side. Your laughter came to an abrupt halt as you faced Brad.
“No.” You stated.
“What? But you have to. I could go to jail.” Brad said and shook the bars angrily.
“And I hope you do.” You said simply.
“What? Come on. Don’t do this to me. Peter already got his revenge.”
“That’s right. He did. But I didn’t.” You reminded him. “And personally, I think there are enough pathetic, predatory losers in New York. Serving some time might knock those worrisome traits of yours loose.”
“You need to really think about this. If I go to jail, I could lose everything.” Brad whispered harshly.
“I lost everything.” You shrugged. “My friends, my dignity, my name. Now it’s your turn.”
“Don’t do this. I’ll get kicked out of school. And it’s impossible to get a job when you have a conviction. Especially for something like this. You have to help me. This will ruin my reputation.”
“At least your reputation will be accurate. Mine never was.” You replied as you looked him right in the eyes. Brads face crumbled and he found himself at a loss for words.
“Goodbye, Brad.” You smiled tightly and walked away. Peter followed after you and joined up with May back in the waiting room.
“Would you like me to drive you back to campus?” May offered as you all walked out of the station together.
“Thank you. But I think I’m gonna wander around the city for a bit. Campus is a little…hostile right now. I think I want to avoid all the attention for a little bit.”
“Well you are welcome to join us for dinner if you’d like.” She smiled kindly.
“I don’t think she wants to do that, May.” Peter mumbled. You made eye contact with him and exchanged polite smiles.
“Thank you again, but I think it’s for the best if I don’t. I would like to talk, though.” You said to Peter.
“Yeah. Of course.” Peter nodded. May got into the car to give the two of you some privacy. You and Peter stood facing each other but didn’t make eye contact. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he got straight to the point.
“Look, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I called you a slut. And that I didn’t believe you at the party. There is no excuse for what I said and did. I was angry so I called you exactly what I knew would hurt you. I guess that I’m not as good of a guy as either of us thought. You deserve a gentleman. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be that for you.”
“It’s not okay that you called me that. But I forgive you.” You told him.
“You do?” Peter smiled in surprise.
“I do. If you hadn’t gotten Brad and his friends to admit what they had done, I never would’ve gotten my name back. I had people I’ve never even seen before apologizing to me. So if you can risk your scholarship to get my reputation back, I can forgive you.”
“I’d do anything for you.” He told you as he stared into your eyes. You could see how guilty he felt when you looked into his eyes but you couldn’t get him using that word out of his head.
“Where do we go from here?” He asked after a beat of silence. You put a smile on your face and patted Peters shoulders.
“From here, you’re gonna go eat dinner with your aunt. I’m gonna go get some food with my friends, since I actually have them now. And we’re gonna see each other on Thursday in class.”
“Oh. Right. Okay. I’ll see you in class then.” Peter smiled tightly and hoped it didn’t let his disappointment show. He started walking to his car when he heard your voice again.
“Hey Peter?” You called and he turned around.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for getting your knuckles bloody for me.” You smiled at him.
“Anytime.” He smiled back. He got into the passenger seat of Mays car and waited until he couldn’t see you in the side view mirror before breaking down. May rubbed his back and said nothing as Peter cried in his hands.
“I love her. And I ruined it. I fucked it all up.” He cried.
“You don’t know that.” May said kindly. “You might still get a chance to make things right.”
“I don’t think so. She just wants to be friends.“
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay. She could’ve written me out of her life entirely. At least we get to be friends now.” Peter said as he wiped his face. May frowned and cupped his chin.
“Let’s go home, honey.” May said. “It’ll be better in the morning.
In the morning, Peter woke up to an email confirming his suspension. He was allowed to return to campus a week later and when he did, he had everyone’s eyes on him. He kept his head down and made his way to the chemistry class he had with you. You exchanged friendly smiles with each other but that was it. Your relationship stayed in a sorta friends but sorta strangers area until the end of the semester. With one week until finals, you finally talked again.
“Hey.” You said as you caught up to him after class. Peter looked around the hallway for who you might be talking to and found no one.
“Me?” He asked.
“Yeah, you. I wanted to show you something.” You smiled coyly and handed him the test you had just gotten back in class. Peter saw a big “96” written on the top in red ink, your highest score yet.
“Woah, 96? That’s really awesome. Great job. I knew you could do it.” Peter smiled proudly and handed it back to you.
“Thank you. I never thought I’d actually pass this class. Turns out I just needed a tutor.” You said with a small shrug. Peter smiled fondly at you and nodded his head. He didn’t know why you were suddenly talking to him, but he didn’t mind it.
“You were always smart.” He insisted. “You just needed someone to explain it in a new way. I’m proud of you. That should go up on the tiny fridge in your dorm.”
“If I had a magnet or even knew where to get one, I would.” You joked. Peter laughed before a comfortable silence settled between you. You looked at each other for a moment before you took a deep breath and looked down at the test.
“So, uh, we have our final coming up soon so I was wondering if you were free to study together sometime? Maybe in the library?” You asked him.
“Oh, sure. I can definitely help you.” He nodded enthusiastically.
“Great, thanks. And maybe we can get some food after.” You suggested.
“Yeah. Totally.” He agreed.
“Like a date.” You added. Peters eyes lit up as he processed what you had said.
“You want to go on a date? With me?”
“I’ve been thinking.” You began. “You were the first person at this school who took the time to get to know me. And in that time, I got to know you too. I know you’re not a mean person. I know you aren’t like the guys who used to make fun of me. And I know I’ve said plenty of things in moments of anger that I wished I could take back. So I have a proposition for you.”
“Which is?” Peter wondered.
“If you ever call me that word again, we’re done for good. No second chances. But since I believe you’re sorry and wouldn’t do it again, I would like to give us another shot. What do you think?”
“I would also like that very much please.” Peter said immediately. You laughed at his quick answer and held out your hand. Peter took it and you walked down the hallway together. He walked you to your next class, just like old times, and stopped outside the door. You were about to say goodbye when he pulled you into a hug. You melted into his arms and hugged him back, closing all the distance that had grown between you.
“Thank you for giving me a second chance.” He said for just you to hear.
“I had too. I missed you too much for that to have been our end.”
“I missed you too.” He said as he pulled out of the hug but kept his arms around you. You looked into his eyes for a minute and smiled softly.
“For the record, I loved you too.” You told him. Peter gasped a little before breaking into a cool and collected smile.
“For the record, I was all in from the moment you borrowed my pen. Not that it’s a competition or anything.” He shrugged, making you laugh a little.
“You know, I still have that pen. It’s really good, too. Is that your thing? You give helpless girls pens and hope they’ll fall in love with you?” You teased him.
“That’s exactly what I do. You’re just the first it’s ever worked on.” He humored you.
“Oh yeah? And just how many girls have you given pens too?a rough estimate would be nice. I’d like to know who my competition is.”
“Oh, jeez. That’s hard to say. It’s gotta be hundreds of girls. Maybe even thousands. I’ve given a pen to more girls than you could ever imagine.“
“Wow. Thats a lot of girls to give pens too. I didn’t realize you were such a busy boy. Are you some kind of slut or something?” You asked with a slight gasp to poke fun at the reputation that used to weigh you down.
“I think I might be actually, yeah.” He sighed and shrugged his shoulder.
“I see.” You chuckled. “That must be why we get along so well.
“Wait, why?” Peter wondered and no longer followed the joke.
“Because.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “Takes one to know one.”
THE END
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coryosmin · 4 months
Note
tying Coryo up so he can only watch Sej fuck you
omg yes. but the way i imagine this, it’s sejanus tying coryo up
nsfw | mdni | snowjanus x fem reader
warnings: crying, dom!sej, switch!reader, sub!coryo, squirting, definitely poorly written because i have a fever
coryo would be punished for naturally flirting with someone else. it’s not like he meant to. it just slips out, especially since he’s used to charming people. but when sejanus finds out, he’s upset. so ultimately, sejanus tells you and you’re upset too. and the both of you end up deciding a punishment for coryo.
you and sejanus were on your bed as he fucked you, both of you facing coryo as he was tied up to your desk chair. coryo was pouting, his big blue eyes watched as sejanus pounded into your pussy. and you were moaning so loudly for him.
“you sound so pretty for me, princess,” sejanus cooed into you ear, he voice breathless. “do you wish coryo had been good so he could enjoy your wet pussy?”
you nodded your head, unable to help the squeal that escaped you when sejanus thrusted into you particularly hard. on the other side of the room, coryo was whining, his aching cock begging for attention. he tried to stay quiet but he couldn’t help it. you’re just so pretty and sej’s cock always feels great. coryo wanted nothing more than to be inside of you while sej was inside of him.
“am sorry,” coryo whined, his pretty blue eyes tearing up. “didn’t mean to flirt. just happened.”
sejanus continued to thrust into you. he was in the middle of kissing your neck when he heard coryo speak. he looked up, smirking. “well, if you’re sorry, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place, coryo.”
coryo simply pouted in response.
you felt for coryo but didn’t say anything, knowing he needed to be punished. you tried to say something but as you did, sejanus began massaging your nipple, causing you to simply moan instead as he continued his harsh thrusts. “w-when you do something you’re not supposed to, coryo,” you paused trying to collect your thoughts. unfortunately (for you), sejanus was fucking your thoughts out of you. “you get consequences.”
your words made coryo’s tears fall out of his eyes as he tried to buck his hips, unable to due to being tied up. sejanus angled himself differently somehow, his cock pushing deeper inside of you. you arched your back as you felt your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to squirt on sejanus’s cock.
“ohhh fuck,” sejanus said as he felt the warm liquid. the room was filled with your moans and the squelching sound of sejanus’s cock thrusting into you.
sejanus came inside of you shortly after, the sounds and feelings of your pussy just sending him straight over the edge. and as he came, he heard coryo whimpering.
as you both came down from your highs, you looked over at coryo, who’s abdomen was glistening with cum. he came on himself without being touched. you cooed, unable to help yourself. “coryo, baby, did you cum all over yourself?”
coriolanus whimpered, nodding his head pathetically.
you and sejanus couldn’t help but smile. and of course, you untried coryo and gave him attention. because of course he learned his lesson.
or maybe he didn’t. but even if he didn’t, there will be plenty more times for him to be punished
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sunday-halovian · 14 days
Text
Maintain Yourself
The child sat on the end of the sofa as his wings were pulled around behind him, crying at every movement. He couldn't be more than ten years old. It hurt it hurt it hurt, couldn't that man tell? Or was this some sort of punishment for letting such a thing happen? "Sunday, do you mind explaining what happened? You're always so careful."
He was the only halovian in his class, of course his classmates would want a look at his wings. If he let them indulge in that one thing, perhaps they'd stop with everything. Laughing at him whenever he'd refuse to go into the field, scared to get branches caught on anything. Yelling at him for ruining the lesson whenever he desperately tried not to do anything wrong, not to spill anything during the lab practicals and panicking if he did. Getting annoyed whenever he'd cry about them ruffling his hair or feathers or uniform. Robin had plenty of friends in her class, Sunday just wanted something similar. That wasn't unreasonable for a child to want, right? To be treated normally.
"That's not too hard a situation for you to control, now, is it?"
It wouldn't have been if they were only looking at his wings like they'd promised. But one of them almost immediately grabbed his wing and started playing with his feathers. It wasn't something he could talk his way out of and if he tried to push any of them away he'd get in trouble for starting a fight. They just got a little too investigative, a little too boisterous, as children were prone to, and he'd gotten hurt as a result. Realistically, Sunday should have seen it coming. That's just what they were like. That's what children were like. He wasn't any different, ultimately. If he'd never seen something before, he'd want to learn about it too. It's just a child's instinct. It was his fault anything has gone wrong.
"How are you supposed to protect Robin if you can't even take care of yourself? You're her older brother, you have a duty."
"I'm sorry Mr. Gopher Wood."
"This isn't something you apologise about, it's something you do right next time."
"Yes, Mr. Gopher Wood." His voice was barely above a whisper. It was all he could muster without crying while Gopher Wood manipulated his wings. Was all this really needed to check what had happened? Surely the excruciating pain of trying to move them himself was enough to prove something had been broken.
He could feel feathers being plucked, causing a seating pain to shoot through his body. They were right where his wings were injured and would get infected if left but surely there was some way of numbing the area. Normally, it would only feel like a short, sharp pinch, but today you may as well have drawn a knife from Sunday's body.
He wanted to run away, to curl up and hide with Robin and cry without judgement. But he couldn't. Gopher Wood was trying to help and so he would be forced to sit still until the man was done. No one could disobey the Head of The Oak Family.
The injury never actually healed and with each passing day, Sunday grew more and more suspicious on why Gopher Wood insisted on moving his wings around like that for so many weeks if not to monitor the injuries.
It became a well known fact that Sunday was the only halovian in all of Penacony to have never once shown his wings publicly. Though people speculated, it was rather simple, actually. They were a mess. Pristine only if you'd never seen a halovian's wings before. Mismatched, feathers unkempt and unable to be, out of order, unable to properly move, only flutter a little. And still painful.
The halovian woke with a start. He was still in his bed, but he could feel his body shaking and tears dripping down his cheeks. He sat up, running his hands over his cheeks to dry them. Who knows how long he sat there, fingers weaving through his feathers and instinctively snatching any out of place.
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clementinesandwine · 1 year
Text
Teasing Gyutaro
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✧˖ ° includes~ nsfw, modern au, established relationship, soft!dom Gyutaro, sub! reader, very spicy, honorifics, lots of dirty talking, confident Gyutaro
✧˖ ° ~ you decide to tease Gyutaro in one of his sweaters and thigh highs
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It had been a long day waiting for Gyutaro to come home from work. Well it wasn’t actually your shared home with him, it was his apartment, but you were over often enough to call it your home as well. You knew he secretly loved hearing you say “I’m on my way home,” or, “We’ll be at home,” when referring to his place. You knew you were always welcome, as even Daki enjoyed your presence. However, today was painfully boring and slow. Daki had been out for the day with some girlfriends, and you were invited, but you knew this would give you and Gyutaro time alone, as Daki was also sleeping out. That is, if he ever came home from work.
You kept trying to come up with something to do, but was at a loss. You’ve already picked up around the house, even deciding to do the siblings laundry out of boredom. Dinner was already done and was simple to make, considering Gyutaro could only eat raw meat. You always found a way to spice it up for him, but still, it didn’t waste nearly enough of your time as you hoped it would.
You currently lay curled on the couch in one of Gyutaro’s hoodies. The black fabric lay loosely over your body, as his stature was much larger than yours. Of course, you had the same hoodie in your size, as you bought them together at a past concert. However, you knew wearing his would bring out the side of him you desperately craved. Your patience had dwindled and you wanted to make him suffer slightly for it. To make sure you got your point across, you only had undies on underneath, paired with some white thigh highs. You knew his perverted mind would go exactly where you wanted, and you would make him wait just like he had done to you.
And there it was. The noise you waited all day to hear: the door knob turning. You eagerly get up, running to the door to greet your beloved boyfriend, excited to show off what he’s been missing out on. However, when he came into view, it was obvious he had a rough day.
“Taro!” you say excitedly, running up to him. You jump up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I missed you all day!”
He wraps his arm around your waist, stabilizing your small frame against his body. “Oh darling, I missed you today,” he says. “Work was absolutely exhausting, I’m sick of taking care of those pigs. How was your day, pretty girl?”
He puts you down and finally gets a full view of you, immediately raising his eyebrows. Gyutaro doesn’t know what kind of game you're playing, but he likes the idea already.
“Well,” you start, batting your doe eyes up at him, “I was so bored! I cleaned, and did laundry, and made dinner, and showered all by myself today,” you say with a pout. He smirks, looking down at you.
“I’m sorry, princess. How about I make it up to you? You look so cute in my hoodie, why don’t you let me take care of you?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” You say and turn around. Your back is flush against his chest, pushing your butt against him. Crossing your arms over your chest to show you are a little upset, you give him a small wiggle. He slides his hand down your tummy towards your most sensitive area. You got him.
“No, no, no,” you said, snatching his wrist. “You are punished for leaving me alone for so long,” you say confidently. Gyutaro chuckled behind you.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to continue?” He asks calmly. You start to get nervous, maybe you are going too far with this, but you can’t help yourself.
“Well, how else are you supposed to learn your lesson, hm-”
You’re cut off by his other hand grabbing your throat. “Oh my love,” he starts. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here, aren’t you? What happened to my sweet girl?” You don’t respond, barely able to function with his hand on your throat. You loved when he was dominant.
“Go on, babygirl, use your words,” he says, pointy teeth just grazing your ear.
“I- I don’t know,” you say.
“Oh you don’t know? You need me to remind you that you’re just the little girl who follows my rules, hm? And to think you wore this just for me? But no, you just want to tease me after I had a hard day at work. I don’t think that's very nice, sweetheart,” he says. His hand slowly slides up your throat till his middle and ring finger sits snugly in your mouth. “I think you are gonna have to make it up to me, right? Let me use my pussy however I please?”
Gyutaro forces the hand you hold lower until he cups what's his, pulling you even tighter against his chest. “You gonna listen to me, babydoll?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” you mumble around his fingers.
“There’s my good girl. Why don’t we get these cute socks a little dirty? Get on your knees for me,” Gyutaro demands.
You are in no place to resist, as you want him to be as lenient as possible when it comes to you. And at the end of the day, this is what you wanted right? To be used by your sweet boyfriend? To push his buttons?
You slowly sink to your knees and turn to face him, reaching up to unclip his belt and pull down his pants. You still have not gotten used to the sheer size of his cock and your lips part slightly when it is finally released, a bead of precum gathered at the tip. You wrap your hand around his length and look up, slowly kissing the birthmarks along his length until you wrap your lips around the tip. He doesn’t give you a moment before forming a ponytail with his hands and shoving your head down until your nose meets his pelvis. Your hands fly to his thighs, slightly pushing against him as you start to gag on his length, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
“That’s it, baby, your mouth feels so good around my cock,” Gyutaro says, his head thrown back. You are unable to compose yourself, as he begins to bob your head up and down his length until you become a drooling mess. The way he is using your throat sends heat down to your core and you can’t help but moan round him, which only causes Gyutaro to fuck your face harder.
Gyutaro pulls your head back by your hair, forcing you to look up at him. He can’t help but admire how you look right now, tears streaming lightly down your face, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. And all for him. He knows you love when he dominates you and that you probably did this on purpose, but that doesn’t mean he is gonna let it go that easy. Gyutaro pulls you up by your hair to face him.
“I need you to go to the bedroom and wait for me there. Leave all this on,” he tells you. You nod, but that isn’t enough for him. “What did I say about words, baby?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry,” you say, genuinely nervous and excited for what was to come. You adored Gyutaro and thought he was handsome every second of the day, but when he forced you into submission, it was another story. You run off into the bedroom, practically jumping into the bed where you wait for him, sitting on your feet and hands face up on your thighs.
He comes in a few moments later, with only his pants back on. His lack of a shirt caused you to squeeze your thighs together slightly, trying to gain some friction. There were two ways this could go, being edging or overstimulation. You hoped he would let you finish at all tonight. Walking up to you, Gyutaro slowly slid his hand up your thigh, squeezing where the top of the sock met your skin, and gliding under the sweater. Underneath, he notices the green, lace undies. His absolute favorite, as they remind him that you are his.
“This is what you were hiding from me?” He asks, finger already circling your clit. He can feel how wet you are through your panties, but all you do is suck in your bottom lip. Gyutaro’s other hand comes up and squeezes your cheeks before roughly slamming his lips against yours, practically pushing you backwards. Your hands go up to touch his face and he immediately pulls away.
“No touching,” he says. “Lay down and spread your legs.”
“Gyutaro, please, I’m sorry I-”
“Did I say you could speak?” He asks. “Lay down and spread your legs now.”
You do as you’re told without another word, placing your hands above your head. He comes up to kiss you, gliding his fingers back towards your undies and slowly pushing them to the side, using his thumb to rub slow circles on your clit. You can’t help but whine and push your hips up towards his hand.
“What is it, baby? You are so needy, hm? You just needed me to come home and remind you of what a slut you are? Go on, tell me,” Gyutaro says with a smirk, as he pushes two fingers into you without warning. You throw your head back and make a move to touch him, but leave your hands slightly raised, as you remember what he said.
“Yes,” you whisper.
“Yes what?” he teases, curling his fingers inside to hit that one spongy spot while still rubbing your clit. Your moans are music to his ears, but he wants to hear you.
“Yes, I wanted you to make me your slut. I thought about it all d-day while you… you were gone. I just needed yo-you,” you say, unable to stabilize your voice. You’re practically bucking into his hand, the cord in your abdomen being wound up tighter and tighter, almost about to snap. “Oh fuck, Gyu, I.. I’m gonna cum.”
He stops moving his hand and touches your cheek. “Don’t you dare,” he says. “The only way you’re cumming is on my cock, do you understand? And you’re gonna cum until I’m satisfied,” Gyutaro says, slowly starting to move his fingers. He continues to edge you for what seems like an hour, hand wrapped around your throat, slapping your thigh every time you attempt to close your legs. You are a whining, begging mess.
“Please, Gyu,” you sob out. “Please fuck me. I need your cock, I need you to use me for your own pleasure. I-I just want to be good for you please.”
There are tears running down your face and Gyutaro thinks he has made you suffer enough. He finally pulls your panties down, tossing them to the side before doing the same with his own clothes. He lines himself up with your entrance, watching as your pussy flutters around nothing, and again gives no warning before fully pressing himself into you. You scream out and reach for him again, this time successfully doing so.
Gyutaro wastes no time and sets an ungodly pace, pulling an orgasm from you right away. Your head is spinning, unable to form a full sentence at once. “Brats don’t get warnings,” he says simply, rutting into you.
Your hair sticks to your wet cheeks as a white rim forms around Gyutaro’s cock; you can feel the sheets beneath you begin to dampen. You can’t control your moans, especially when his fingers find your clit, causing you to crash again.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, you-you’re so big,” you stutter out. “Please don’t stop.” Gyutaro’s other hand finds its place at your throat as you try to tell him how good he feels inside you. You aren’t sure how long you’ll last like this, eyes rolling backwards.
“Keep those fucking eyes on me,” he grunts out. “Don’t you stop looking at me. I’m gonna need you to think again before you try and tell me I can’t have what's mine. Because this pussy?” Gyutaro leans down close and whispers, “I own this pussy. And you are gonna be a good, little slut and take what I give you, isn’t that right?”
He is practically slamming into you, his balls slapping against you with every thrust. “I’m sorr-sorry,” you wail out. “I’ll be good, feels so good, oh fuck, thank you,” you mumble out.
“You know you wanted this, sweetheart. You wanted me to come home and use you, wanted me to wreck this pretty cunt, hm? Want me to cum inside and leave it a dripping mess, yeah?” Gyutaro is losing his control now, hips stuttering when you clench around him, another orgasm flowing from you. God you look stunning like this, legs wrapped around his waist, fucked out expression. He wishes he caught you in his clothing every day, loved putting you in your place if you tried acting out.
He watches as you grasp at the sheets or claw at his back, trying anything to control yourself just the slightest. But his cock is buried so deep, kissing your cervix with each thrust, you can barely form a coherent sentence.
“Gyu.. can’t,” you say, shaking your head. Tears are streaming full force now and he reaches up to wipe them. “Can’t cum,” you spill out.
“Shh, shhh. Yes you can, baby. You’re a good girl, I know you can give me one more, can’t you? The way you’re squeezing me, I’m not gonna last much longer,” he says.
You nod slightly, you knew you could handle what he was giving and also wanted to make him proud. His pace increases as he chases his own high, never taking his eyes off you. You, of course, are his precious darling, and he wants to make sure you are alright at the same time. Your blissed out face is telling him there's nothing to worry about. Gyutaro sits up and pushes your knees to your chest, making your eyes shoot open. An “Oh fuck,” is all you can manage to get out, and Gyutaro chuckles.
“Go on baby, cum for me. Cum all over my cock,” he demands, sending you over the edge. He watches you fall apart beneath him, legs trembling due to the position and intensity of this orgasm and he finishes soon after. One final thrust has him spilling inside you, filling you to the point of it dripping out.
Gyutaro stays inside you, slowly kissing your exhausted face. “Such a good girl,” he mumbles against your skin. You whine slightly, as he pulls you close, thankful that you decided to wear his hoodie today.
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nightsmarish · 24 days
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Hihi!! I saw requests are open and I wanted to send in a request if that’s fine haha. here I go
could I request wolfstar x masc! (or GN but I prefer masc) who goes to school at durmstrang AND hogwarts? like the reader is REALLY good at defense against the dark arts and the reader also has handsome looks as well and both sirius and lupin fall for them?…
sorry if it’s confusing 😭! you can decline this if you’d like but thank you so much !
A/n: I'm not even gonna lie, I am NOT a fan of how this came out amd might rewrite in the future. I just can't finish on another fic it this one wasn't done, I am so so so sorry if this sucks ass.
Poly!wolfstar x masc!reader (Remus lupin x masc!readee x Sirius black) | 800+ words
Tw: reader is hot, possible illusion to smut but not in a cool way
✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ
Sirius comes running into the dorm, of which is mostly empty besides Remus.
"Moony-" He pauses, panting from running through the moving staircases, planting himself dramatically onto Remus' bed next to the lycan, "did you see the Durmstrang and Beauxbitons students?"
Remus infact did meet the exchange students. The headmaster of the three schools had come to decide that it would be beneficial to have an exchange program for a few months. Allowing students to learn magic under different teachers and styles, as well as continuing the bond between the schools.
"Yes, I did, why do you ask?" He raises an eyebrow, lowering his book to give his boyfriend his full attention.
"That bloody Durmstrang boy, he's fucking hot." Sirius moves over Remus, sitting on his abs while he lays back on his bed.
"Which one, love, there was 3 of them." Remus looks up at Sirius, who is fiddling with one of the gold studs Remus' in his ears.
"The hot one."
Remus smiles up at his boyfriend, hands moving up under the button up shirt Sirius is wearing for his uniform. "I think they all where rather hot. I think it may be a requirement for attending Durmstrang."
"Well I don't bloody know, he was just fucking hot, babe. Like, dear Merlin he was a looker." Sirius' smile matches Remus' hands moving from his earings to rake through his boyfriends hair. Remus draws little shapes onto Sirius' spine.
"Am I not enough for you anymore? Need another boyfriend already?" Remus leans up, kissing Sirius' neck.
"You are more than enough, I'm just saying he's hot." Sirius chuckles, ducking down to capture Remus' lips.
ᯓ★
Okay, Remus gets it. After Sirius pointed you out the next morning at breakfast, you are bloody hot. Both boys shared Defense Against the Dark Arts, the first class they share (other than breakfast) that they can properly gossip in.
"Okay, okay- yes, he's hot, I get what you mean." Remus puts down his book bag, leaning back in his chair as everyone filters into the room.
"Exactly! He's eye candy, right?" Sirius has one foot on the chair, knee bent, while the other leg is like a normal damn person in a chair.
Before he can respond, someone speaks up, "Hey, sorry, is this seat taken?"
Both boys look to their left. And dear Merlin they were not prepared for you to be there.
"Yeah- sure, of course." Sirius answers for them, Remus opting to stay quite.
You smile and take a seat, dropping your book bag on the floor as you scan the room.
None of you talk much during the lesson, at least not verbally. Remus and Sirius keep discreetly writing notes to one another.
Oh Merlin he's next to me
I see that, love
What am I supposed to do???? I look like a sodding idiot!
You look fine, I promise.
Only fine? Thanks, babe, great to know I only look fine when I am next to him!
You look fucking hot
I don't believe you anymore
Want me to prove it in a supply closet after lunch?
Class is dismissed, so everyone quickly gathers there things, excited to go to lunch and see their friends. The boys share a look, do they talk to you, or be a wimp?
"Hey," Sirius grabs your attention, of which you give him, undivided and it makes it slightly harder for him to breath, "I'm Sirius Black, it's a pleasure to meet you." He offers you his hand, which you shake and give him your name.
"And, I'm Remus Lupin." He adds, not entirely a fan of the first greeting people bit, very awkward about the whole thing.
You send Remus the same smile you sent Sirius and dear fuck they have gotten down bad way to quickly, "Great to meet you two."
"Would you like to sit with us? At lunch." The shorter of the two asks, "Obviously our friends will be there too, it would *just* be us."
"Oh, yeah, sure, that'd be nice, thank you." You follow both of them out the classroom and to the Greathall.
ᯓ★
Are they super sweet? Dear Vulpelara, they very much are. As is their friends. You got to meet Peter, Lily, and James so far.
Though, you've met who you are pretty sure is Sirius little brother a few times in passing but you are not completely sure.
Are you having a harder and harder time keeping up your chill persona? Holy fuck, yes.
They are flirty, smooth, and devastatingly hot.
While Sirius is quick to make a flirty remark, so quick you almost don't notice, or throw in a pet name (gods forbid he calls you "Pretty Boy"). Remus is smooth, subtle, and it's like you're his damn prey.
Like now, you're sitting with the group for dinner a few weeks later, James, Lily, and Peter sit across from you. You learned Lily doesn't always join the boys, but James seems to be very pathetic for her and begs her a lot. While next to you, on your left is Sirius, and on your right is Remus.
Your thighs are touching theirs, and at some point Sirius hooked his foot over yours and you think you lost the function to breath seven minutes ago and.... and this is going to be a long, and painful exchange program.
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wannaeatramyeon · 8 months
Note
A national boyfriend day fic with Gun & Goo? >///< (Separate if that's ok!)
Ever so slightly late. Just a touch! To all my other requests, sorry for some reason my brain wants to work backwards 🫠
Happy National Boyfriend Day! Goo Kim, Gun Park
Goo Kim
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"No, why did you put that?" Goo whines and you erase your last couple words.
"Say I'm the best instead. Put that down." He scans over your caption, leaning closer to the screen with each passing second before reeling back and jabbing a particularly offensive part with his finger.
"There's a typo there cupcake!" You quickly correct it. "And are you using that picture? That suit was last season. Here, let me send you a better photo of me."
Goo starts to tap away on his own phone. You hear the tell tale ping of a message sent, and he slings a smarmy grin your way too.
With a sigh, you change the picture and redo the entire caption so it finally, finally passes his royal highness's scrutiny.
It's live. Thank fuck for that-
"Sweetheart~" Goo sings songs, elongating the vowels and you feel a headache come on, "Did you get me a present too?"
You want to snap of fucking course you did. He's been dropping hints for the last couple of months. Getting more obvious with each passing day, until he just came right out and demanded the specific item.
Which you would have gotten for him of your own accord, but this fool has no patience and no subtlety.
Thinking of the packaged box in tasteful gold wrapping, well tasteful by Goo Kim's standard anyway, you point wordlessly to the walk-in closet and he scampers off with glee.
You suppose you can't complain, after all it is his credit card you used.
.
.
Gun Park
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"Happy National Boyfriend Day," you say somewhat shy, handing over an envelope.
Neither of you are big on celebrating these silly little made up holidays. Actual birthdays, anniversaries you are both more attentive to.
At least you are, then Gun took your lead after the first time he missed a particular occasion of something or another and you didn't speak to him for days.
He has learned his lesson since.
It didn't take much to make you happy, anyhow. And each time he remembered a date, your eyes lit up - that was even before giving you a gift and taking you out. So how could he deny you such simple pleasures?
"Thanks," he responds, a little stiff and taking the item from your hands. Because he definitely doesn't care for National Boyfriend's Day and thought you didn't either.
"Open it," you encourage with an excited smile, and he follows your instructions obediently.
Inside the envelope is a card. Printed on high quality cardstock. Dark and matte and heavy, with a simple heart design on the front.
"You can read it!"
And Gun does.
He's never been one to be affected, positively or negatively, by media. By prose or poems or songs. Words are frivolous, especially for a man who lives by action and violence.
But as he reads over your tidy, neat writing. Recalling your favourite memories together, your love for him, the future you see together.
Gun can't help but be touched. 
Feel his eyes soften and a small smile tug at his lips. Want to pull you into his arms and hold you and cradle you like you're the most precious thing in his world.
"Thank you," He tells you again, and this time he means it.
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