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veryberryjelly · 1 day

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i would stay forever

art donaldson x gn!reader

prompt ; 'wait, don't go, please'

[ please excuse the fact that i know nothing about tennis XD. also, my first attempt at any kind of smut !! ]

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

you could feel arts frustration from your place in the crowd.

this had been the match he had been most anxious about. and as much as you had assured him he could kick cole friedman's ass on the court, it didnt take away from the fact that the guy was good.

and that much was proved by the score of today's match.

c. friedman - 4

a. donaldson - 2

you watched as your boyfriend stalked off the court, heading through the doors and back into the building.

manoeuvring out of the rows of chairs was difficult when everyone was taking advantage of the break between matches to get drinks and go to the bathroom.

in other circumstances you would've been with your boyfriend a lot quicker. you knew how in his head he got after he lost a match and you wanted to be there before he could get himself into too deep a spiral.

you managed to push your way through the crowd to get to the changing rooms where you swiftly pushed the door open, immediately met with groans of protest from the few other players that you completely ignored.

you spotted a familiar mop of strawberry blonde hair and your legs carried you towards it.

the closer you got, the more details of your boyfriend revealed themselves to you, and the more your heart broke for him.

he was bent over on the bench, his head in his hands, his shirt discarded beside him showing off the bruises he often got from practicing.

" oh, pretty boy " you muttered quietly, moving to kneel infront of him and get his focus on you and get him out of his head.

your hands rested on his knees and the contact seemed to be the thing to grab his attention and bring it to you.

a weak smile twitched at his lips and his arms dropped to rest his hands ontop of yours.

your hands turned to grasp his in yours and you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand.

" you did so good, baby. 'm so proud of you " your voice was quiet enough to keep this conversation between the two of you, but you made sure art could hear your voice.

you needed him to hear you over the voices in his head.

a soft nod of his head and a squeeze of your hand was enough for you.

" c'mon, i'll take you back to my place " you stood from the floor, your hands remaining clutched in art's grip.

when he tilted his head up to meet your gaze you could feel your heart breaking for the boy infront of you.

after a quick kiss pressed onto his forehead, you walked out of the changing room, giving him a couple of minutes to collect his things and change if he wanted to.

you leant against the wall just outside, ignoring the few glances you got from the guys walking out of the changing room who had seen you waltz straight in.

but you didnt care about them, you cared about the boy who came out and his arm went straight around your shoulders.

it was almost a reflex for your arms to wind around his torso, and the looks from the guys coming out of the changing room didnt cease.

" ugh, get a room " you heard from one of the players which usually would elicit a soft laugh from you, but today you just unwound one of your arms from your boyfriend and began leading him towards your building.

the walk was short but by the time you both arrived outside your door you could practically feel the exhaustion radiating off the boy beside you.

once the for was open you moved swiftly inside and art fell down ontop of your bed with a soft *thud*

you walked straight into your bathroom and knelt down to turn on the tub.

you could only imagine the amount of pain art was in right now, both physically and mentally. to your knowledge he hadn't slept in over two days and every spare minute had been spent on the courts, practising.

you knew he needed to relax, now more than ever.

after adding a soak to the water along with some salts you made your way back to your room to coax art into the bathroom.

at the sight of him already curled up on your bed ready to sleep you almost caved and let him stay there, but you knew he would thank you for making him get up.

you could let him lay there for a few minutes while the bath filled up.

and you spent those few minutes perched on the edge of your bed with your fingers running through the small knots in his hair enjoying the way his muscles seemed to relax at your touch.

getting him into the bathroom took a little bit of convincing, namely including bribery in the form of little spoon cuddles with a movie.

you pulled him through the bathroom door and reached down to pull his shirt up over his head.

this routine was both usual and unusual. after a loss art was usually a bit down, and he's both end up in the bath or shower at one of your places before just relaxing with you the rest of the afternoon.

but with the loss, ontop of how exhausted he was, you didnt mind doing that little bit extra.

you turned to drop his clothes into your laundry hamper while he climbed into the bath and when you turned back to face him he was coming up from the water after wetting his hair.

you couldnt resist leaving a kiss onto his forehead.

" i'm gonna go and get us some food, i'll be back in a little bit " you said quietly, moving to stand before you were stopped by a hand on your wrist.

" wait, don't go...please " his voice was quiet, but the raw edge on his voice pained you.

you didnt need to be asked twice as you knelt down beside the tub again.

" ok, i won't go " there wasn't a question about it. if he wanted you to stay, you would stay.

his head rested back against the wall behind the tub and his gaze was locked on you.

" will you get in here " it wasnt a question so much as a request.

but you recognised the look in his eyes. a tired need that often appeared in the dark of night along with a quiet whisper of ' just need to be close to you '

who were you to deny his gorgeous baby blue's.

you released his hand to strip yourself of your clothes and drop them onto the laundry hamper across the bathroom.

art offered his hand out to you to help you into the water and you sank down onto your knees, your arms looping to wrap around his neck.

you hovered slightly in the water while art lined himself up at your entrance.

once you felt the head of his cock pushing you open, you sank down onto his lap, shivering slightly at the whimper that escaped his lips.

his hands moved to rest on your hips as you both got used to the feeling of him being inside you.

you could tell when he was settled because his head dropped back against the wall and his arms tightened slightly around you, pulling your chest against his.

his nose nudges at the side of your neck and you tilted your head to the side to press a kiss onto his damp skin.

" 'm so proud of you, sweetheart. y' did so well. " a soft mewl interrupted you when you felt him twitch inside you.

" keep talking t'me, baby " he rasped in your ear, his fingers digging into your hips a little.

a soft smirk twitched at your lips. you knew his intentions had been pure, but your words seemed to have tripped something in his head.

" i know you're so tired, handsome. haven't slept in days. i just want to take care of you "

as you continued, you felt yourself slowly rising and falling on his length at a pace that caused the water around you to create small waves up the side of the porcelain.

his whimpers spurred you on.

" y'gonna let me take care of you, baby? want to shut your pretty brain off for a little while ? "

his answer was almost instant

" yes, please sugar " his voice was rough against your skin and you could feel the movement of his lips against your shoulder.

" ok, pretty boy. just relax f'me " you hummed in his ear, your lips moving to pepper kisses from his shoulder up to the spot behind his ear that you knew drove him crazy, all the while never ceasing the movement in your hips.

you could feel yourself getting worked up alongside the boy beneath you, but you tried to focus your mind elsewhere.

this was about art.

you recognised the slight tensing in his shoulders and the stiffening of his neck and your last few movements against his hips were a little more vigorous, to the point where a bit of water splashed over the edge of the tub.

but it was worth it to hear the groan that rumbled in your boyfriends chest and erupted from his mouth as he finished, a recognisable warmth spreading in your stomach.

your hips slowed to an eventual stop and you remained entwined in each others limbs for a few minutes.

eventually you pulled your head back to look at the boy in your arms.

his eyes were half closed, his hair sticking to his skin. he was truly a vision.

with a soft kiss to his lips, you made that reluctant move to ease yourself off of art and out of the tub all together. you wrapped yourself in your robe and pulled the spare one off of the back of your door that exclusively belonged to art.

somehow the boy climbing out of the tub now seemed to be even more exhausted than the one you had found in the changing room, and yet he looked better.

he looked...calmer. less plagued by worry as he took the robe from you and slid it onto his arms.

his arms wrapped around your waist and held you close to his chest.

" thanks, gorgeous " he whispered before pressing a kiss to your neck.

" y'don't have to thank me. go put some clothes on, there's some of yours in my top drawer " you turned in his grip, practically ushering him out of the room so he could change and you could pee and give your hair a quick brush.

when you emerged from the bathroom you found your boyfriend in a pair of boxers and one of your t-shirts. not one you'd taken from him, one of yours.

this must be how he felt to see you in his clothes. if it was you were never going to stop wearing his shirts.

he had pulled your laptop from your bag and opened it up to netflix, ready to argue with you for the next five minutes about a movie and then cave and let you watch whatever you had suggested first. after changing into one of his t-shirts and some underwear, you deposited the robes back in the bathroom and crawled into bed beside him, laying your head down on his chest when he guided you into his side.

" so, what're we watching ?"

———————-

y’all, let me know what you think. should i start writing more smut or cut my losses at this XD

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 day

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AITA for breaking up with my boyfriend suddenly and lying about why?

I (21M) broke up with my boyfriend (18M) a few days ago. It was a painful decision that I already somewhat regret.

We met in uni and have been dating for about 3 months, and our relationship had been going extremely well, but I started to worry about our age gap. I was concerned about it when we first started flirting, but when he confessed to me I was so happy he felt the same way that I forgot about my worries for a little.

I'm VERY chronically online so I'm familiar with age gap discourse, and 18 and 21 seems to be a very grey area. The more I thought about our age gap, the more I looked into peoples' opinions on it online, and these opinions often didn't seem very positive. It made me super nervous about how people might view our relationship and also made me worry that I might be doing something predatory despite my intentions being pure. People in particular seemed to have issues when the girl was older (which I think is fucking weird, but anyway!) I'm a guy, but I'm FTM, only out to my boyfriend, and everyone around me knows me as a girl, so this was pretty worrying.

Our relationship wasn't a public thing - we're both private people and we wanted to date for a few months before going around parading it. But my boyfriend was getting more eager to show us off, which I was happy about before, but all my doomscrolling online had made me worry.

The breaking point for me was a youtuber from my country saying in a video that he found 18 and 21 creepy. Prior to that I'd tried to reassure myself with the idea that while people from like, the USA, might find the age gap weird, people from my own country (England) wouldn't care. But that video destroyed that safety blanket.

I became disgusted with myself and started to see myself as a bad person. I was also worried that when our relationship became more public, people would hate me. I've never had many friends, university is the happiest I've been by a mile in regards to my social life - I didn't want to lose that. Plus, I live at university and can't really move out right now, so I didn't want to be trapped with people who thought I was a creep.

So, after a particularly bad breakdown, I broke up with my boyfriend. I told him that I was struggling to juggle the relationship with my studies and was starting to become tired, and felt it was best for the both of us to end things. It was a believable reason because in general I have very little energy, so he completely bought it - but he was devastated. He kept apologising for not seeing the signs and kept saying he thought things were going so well, and he was right, because they were! I felt awful.

I feel really guilty about what I did, but I was in a state of panic. I don't know whether I did it more to 'cleanse' myself or for the sake of my reputation, I don't even know if the age gap is wrong, I don't even know if people would have reacted badly! I was just scared, but now I feel like a shitty person for what I did. I don't know if the reasoning behind my actions can justify completely blindsiding and lying to my ex like that. I thought I loved him, but maybe I don't if I was willing to do that!

So, tell me honestly, AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole

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whatawonderfulexistence--blog · 3 days

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Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VIII

Welcome back to part 8 of Fall For Me! A strange dream, reader goes to camp, and more sweet moments with the eepy Bois this chapter! Thank you so much for reading, if you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: Brief mention on hunting practices NOT PROOFREAD

Part VII - Part IX (TBA)

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

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When you woke up your head felt like it was in a fog, the edges of your vision slightly blurry as you looked around the room. Your bare feet dropped to the floor, you shivered as you stood from your bed, it was a lot colder in here than you remember it being. You paused at your doorway, something wasn't right. Despite the fact you had crossed the entire expanse of your bedroom there wasn't a single creaking floorboard or footstep to be heard. You look back at your bed only to find your body still laying there. “What the hell?” You mutter softly to yourself. You walk over to your still sleeping form, your shoulders rising and falling with every even breath as you lie motionless beneath the covers.

“Don't worry, you'll be able to re enter your body when we're done here.” You jumped at the sudden voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Its tone is both a whisper and a deafening howl, the sound high pitched and somehow also impossibly low.

“God?” You ask with a confused expression.

The voice laughs, “I guess you could say that.” The silence that surrounded you was deafening as the voice faded out, it was so quiet you could hear your blood rushing in your ears, no ambient sound existed in whatever plane you had been snatched into. “Trust in Vessel, he’ll show you the way.”

You shot up in bed with a sharp gasp, your lungs burning like you had been holding your breath. Your alarm was blaring on your night stand, 8 in the morning, you had an hour until you opened. You got out of bed, listening carefully for the sound of your footsteps against the floor to make sure you really had returned from wherever the hell you had gone in your dreams. “I'm going crazy, I'm actually losing my mind.” You argue with your reflection in the mirror. “Some mysterious voice coming from my subconscious about trusting Vessel, of course I trust him. But what the hell is the way he's supposed to be showing me?” You decided to drop it for now with an annoyed groan, flying through your morning routine and jogging downstairs just as 9 o'clock rolled around. The day flew by, the steady stream of customers helping to distract you from the weird dream you had. You were just about to lock the door when the all too familiar pickup truck pulled into the lot. You smiled, pushing the door open and leaning against it as you waited to see just who had stopped by to visit tonight. You were a bit surprised to see II jump out of the cab unaccompanied, usually when he was sent to make supply runs he always had one of the others in tow. He strides over to you, reaching out to pull you into an embrace the moment you were close enough.

“I have a question for you.” He states softly once he pulls back, his hands still resting comfortably on your waist.

“And what might that be?” You smile, subconsciously leaning into him.

“Would you be comfortable coming back to camp with me?” You paused the moment the question fell from his lips. “Vessel already knows I'm inviting you, he's the one that brought it up in fact.” II chuckles, knowing exactly where your mind had wandered.

“I would love to.” He waits patiently for you to lock up, his hand slipping into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you chat idly on your way back to the truck. You slid across the worn leather bench seat, II hopping behind the wheel not long after. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning in to press a clothed kiss to your cheek.

“Are you warm enough?” You nod, letting your head fall to rest against his shoulder as he starts driving. His thumb languidly trailed back and forth across your shoulder, every so often he would glance down at you to see if you were still awake. You wound down endless back roads, slowly pushing your way down paths that had long since been forgotten until the group had ventured this far out into the woods. II attempted to dodge raised roots and potholes without much success, the makeshift road being filled with craters that rattled the pair of you around in the cab. You were thankful when the dirt path finally smoothed out, the trees opening up to reveal a large clearing with four cabins evenly spaced out around the circle. You recognized minimal details of it from the pictures you had seen in the paper. The cabin opposite the entrance was surrounded by flower beds of various sizes and states of growth, some containing a painter's palette of wildflowers, others filled with various crops that seemed to be growing very successfully. “That's IV’s cabin.” II must've noticed your impressed stare. “I will warn you though, if you compliment him on his gardening it will make him really flustered, so do with that information what you will.” He chuckles.

“Do you all have different jobs?” You ask curiously, II nods his confirmation.

“IV is the main one in charge of produce. III’s a fairly decent hunter, that's where we get the majority of the meat we eat. I’m in charge of the finances.” He lists off everyone's role around the camp. “And Vessel… well he's our spiritual advisor for a lack of a better term.” He chuckles. He pulls the truck up alongside a cabin that was more set back from the rest, it's dark wood almost blending in with the treeline. “He’s in the middle of something, I'll take you to IV.” He smiles at you. He motions for you to wait, jogging around the front of the truck to open your door for you. He bows his head slightly as he offers his hand, you can't help but laugh softly at his actions.

“What a gentleman.” You grin at him.

“For you, only the best.” He winks. Your hand slips into his, his skin cool against yours. His eyes stay locked on your form as you hop down from the truck, the moment your feet hit the ground he's tugging you into his side, wanting to keep you as close as possible. “I'd like to be able to spend some time alone with you later, if that's alright.” The corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile at the slight nervousness you picked up in his voice. You glance up at him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before pushing yourself up to place a kiss to his cheek.

“I'd love to.” You whisper in his ear with a coy smile. Your attention was stolen by IV calling your name from across the clearing. II places a hand against the small of your back, gently nudging you in his direction. You meet him in the middle, giggling as he flings his arms around you and spins you in a hug.

“I missed you.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles, you found your cheeks growing warmth at the genuine joy in his voice.

“You did?” You ask softly.

“Yeah.” Goosebumps rise on your skin as you feel him gently knead at the softness of your waist. His eyes nervously dart from yours, tracing over a pattern he had found in the grass as he sucks in a deep breath. “I, um, I didn't get to say everything I wanted to you the other day.” You waited patiently for him to continue, seeing how nervous he was about choosing exactly the right words was honestly endearing in your eyes. “Do you think we could sit down and talk?”

“Of course we can, wherever you like.” You smile softly at him. He hesitantly removed his hand from your waist, carefully taking your hand and studying your reaction to make sure he wasn't doing too much too quickly. He led you to his cabin, shutting the door behind him and watching you with delight as you looked around curiously at all the small knick knacks and trinkets he had littered around the small space. His heart races when his eyes meet yours, he would never get tired of seeing the way your whole face lit up when you smiled.

“I want you to know that I really like you.” He blurts out, unable to stop the confession from coming out. “I might not be as experienced as the others, and I might take things slowly, but that's just because I don't want to mess this up.” His bright blue eyes scan over your features as he waits for you to respond.

“IV, I'm not worried about moving too slow or too fast, or whether or not you're experienced. I think you're very sweet, handsome, fun,” every compliment was punctuated with you taking another step closer to him. “I like you too, I want to see where things go, and I'm very excited to see how we get there.” He breathes out a relieved chuckle.

“I just don't want you to think that I'm not as interested as the others.” His arms slide around your waist, your instinctually slipping over his shoulders as he pulls you into him. His fingers ghost over your cheek, you lean into his touch, allowing him to carefully cradle your face in his hand. “You're so beautiful, every moment I've gotten to spend with you has been nothing short of amazing.” Your cheeks grow warm as he continues his assault of compliments. He seemed relieved to have gotten that off his chest, the usual playful glimmer returning to his expression.

“Well, I look forward to spending more time with you.” His gaze dropped to your lips for a moment before he hesitantly pulled away. He clears his throat, his eyes trailing to the window.

“Did you get to see the garden at all?” He asks, a slight nervous tremor in his voice.

“A little, but I'd love to see it up close. You have a very impressive green thumb IV.” He taps the toe of his boot against the cabin floor.

“It's nothing special.” He rebuttals bashfully. “But, it's definitely a lot better than what we started out with.” He starts to head towards the door, your hand slipping effortlessly into his as you trailed after him. He brought you to the edge of the flowerbeds, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to keep you close to his side as he pointed to all the various different types of produce and flowers he was growing, slipping in small fun facts every so often.

“I don't know how you can say this isn't anything special IV, this is incredible. You've really done an amazing job.” He froze, swallowing thickly as he looked down at you.

“Thank you, love.” He says softly. A soft smile finds its way to your lips as you watch his eyes slowly trace over your features. “Can I take you on a date sometime?” You can't help but giggle at the question.

“I would love that.” You feel him squeeze your waist, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he returns your smile. You both jumped slightly as someone shouted from across the field. II had III in tow, the taller man dropping off his pack of hunting supplies before quickly making his way over to you. IV leans down, placing a kiss to the top of your head before stepping away. You smiled as III approached, your heart immediately pounding in your chest at the sight of the streaks of sweat that had broken down his black body paint. You were unable to stop your gaze from raking across his exposed torso. Your cheeks grew warm as your eyes snapped back up to meet his, immediately noticing the playful glimmer in his expression. You nearly stumbled backwards as III’s long strides quickly landed him right in front of you, a strong hand landing on your waist to steady you as he caught your chin between his fingers with the other. Your eyes dart to anywhere but his, trying your best to hide your flustered state.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.” He chuckles. “How are you beautiful?” You manage to squeak out a ‘good’ in response. III leans down, the fabric of his mask soft against your skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Have you shown her around at all?” He asked IV, his hand still lingering on your waist as he pulled away.

“Just a bit of the garden.” IV responds.

“Think we should give her the grand tour?” II suggests.

“I don’t see why not.” IV immediately perks up at the idea. You reach out, taking hold of IV’s hand, giving him a coy smile as you cuddle up to his side.

“Well, lead the way boys.” II and III share an amused look over IV’s surprised expression. It takes him a moment before he finally relaxes, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before he brings your knuckles to his lips.

It had been less than a year since they had arrived in town and the progress they had already made at their camp was nothing short of incredible. IV had grown a whole storehouse of crops, all of which were expertly preserved in order to maintain the four of them easily throughout the winter and early spring. You learned that he was hoping to learn how to make preserves out of the vast amounts of berries in the area. III showed you some of his easier to navigate hunting trails, explaining that he only hunts as needed and how important to him it is to use the entire animal whenever possible. The four of you wandered down trails, each of them pointing out spots where they would like to go to read or play music. “We should plan a day to hike out to the lake.” IV suggests.

“Maybe next summer, it’s a little too cold for that now.” II responds. “I definitely think we should at some point though, I really think you’d like it there.” You smile as III places a kiss to the top of your head, his presence at your side immediately being replaced by II who wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you continued walking. You had noticed how the three of them almost seemed to be taking turns being next to you, the thought alone was enough to make butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“I was wondering where you all went.” Your heart immediately began to race at the sound of Vessel’s voice. You turn to find him leaning in the doorway of his cabin, “love, would it be alright if I stole you for a second?” He nods for you to follow him inside his cabin.You swallow thickly, feeling nervous despite the fact you knew you had to reason to worry. You’re snapped from your thoughts by II pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll go start dinner while you’re in there.” He gives you a gentle nudge in Vessel’s direction, prompting you forward. He towered over you from his position leaning in the doorway, offering you his hand once you were in reach and guiding you inside. The inside of his cabin was simple; a small wooden desk with a chair sat in front of the window, a perfectly made bed with black sheets sat against the opposite wall, the large piece of furniture the focal point of the room. Across the room from where you stood you noticed a bookshelf tucked into the corner, the shelves filled with journals, textbooks, and various decks of cards. You could feel Vessel studying you, he watched your body language carefully, trying to gauge exactly how you were feeling in this very moment.

You jumped as he suddenly shut the door, a soft chuckle escaping him at the sight. “There’s no need to be so tense, love.” He steps up to your side, trailing a finger along the edge of your jaw as he leans down close to your ear. “I’m not that scary, am I?” He purrs, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m just a little on edge today, I guess.” You laugh softly.

“And why’s that?” He keeps you close to him as he moves. Settling himself on the edge of his bed, his hands coming comfortably to rest on the curve of your waist as he holds you in front of him. You feel his fingers gently push into you, moving you closer to him without much effort. The front of your thighs presses against the edge of his plush mattress, Vessel’s long legs caging you in on either side. You still had to look up slightly to be face to face with him, knowing you had met his eyes behind the slits of his mask as your heart began to pound in your chest.

“I have a feeling you already know the answer to that.” Your voice trembled as you spoke.

“Smart girl,” he praises, “I see you’re putting the pieces together quickly.” He ponders over what to say for a moment, carefully selecting each word in his mind. “He spoke to you last night, didn’t he?”

“Vessel, what was that?” You answered his question with your own.

“That was Sleep.” He states simply. A bewildered expression formed on your face, Vessel continued speaking before you had a chance to ask any questions. “I for the life of me can’t figure out how to even begin telling you about Sleep.” He admits with a bashful chuckle. “I hate to keep you in the dark, but can I please ask you to wait just a little while longer?” The booming voice echoed in the back of your mind. ‘Trust in Vessel, he’ll show you the way.’

“I trust you.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

“When the time is right I’ll tell you everything, you have my word.” He promises, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb trailing slowly across your skin. The cool material of his mask comes to rest against your forehead. He just held you for a moment, both of you relaxing into the comfortable silence that surrounded you. “I shouldn’t keep you too long, the others will throw a fit.” He says quietly, both of you dissolving into soft laughter.

“Vessel,” he hums in response to you saying his name.

“What is it, love?”

“I really enjoyed our time together the other night.” He froze, seeming almost dumbfounded by the words that had left your mouth.

“You did?” His response comes out timidly, as if he was dancing around those two simple words, worried it was the wrong thing to say. “Maybe… Maybe we could do something like that again sometime then.”

“I’d like that.” You smile softly at him.

Your fingers remained linked with his as he led you across the clearing, the other three members of the group working quickly to make sure everything was set up by the time you reached the table. You were handed a plate of something you didn’t recognize, but it tasted good. Your night became a blur of stolen kisses on your cheeks and laughter that easily bubbled up from your chest. “I believe II had something planned for the two of you tonight.” Vessel suddenly chimes in. “I think we should probably give them some privacy, boys.” He suggests with a patient smile. They each say their respective goodbye’s; IV pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, telling you he’ll see you soon before darting off to his cabin, III pulls you flush against him, lifting his mask just enough to capture your lips with his own. He mumbles a quiet ‘goodnight’ against your lips, his hand lingering on the curve of your waist as he pulls away. You turned to face Vessel, he held out his hand for you to take. “I’ll walk you.” It didn’t take you long to see that II had snuck off to set up a fire, a log pulled the perfect distance away from the flames to sit on. “It looks like you’re in for a nice evening.” You could feel his eyes studying you from behind his mask. “It’s a shame we have to part ways.”

“We still have a couple minutes.” Your eyes dart down to his lips momentarily.

“It almost sounds like you don’t want me to leave.” He responds with a lopsided grin.

“I don’t.” Vessel presses a knuckle below your chin, tilting your face up to allow him the chance to study your features closely.

“Trust me love, if I had it my way I already would have stolen you for myself.” He chuckles, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip. “We’ll have our time… I’ll make sure of it.” He whispers. He cradles your face gently in his hand, his eyes wandering over your features in silence for another moment before he speaks again. “II, make sure she gets home safely.” You hadn’t noticed until Vessel had startled him that II had wandered back in your direction. “Have a good night, beautiful.” A pair of warm lips press against your forehead, and just like before, as quickly as he was there he was gone. A sense of longing ached deep in your chest, one that was quickly pushed down as II’s hands came to rest on your waist. He gently turns you to face him, hand cupping your cheek as his lips ghost over yours. Your eyes flutter shut, your racing thoughts coming to a screeching halt as you let the kiss consume you.

“I’ve been waiting all day to do that.” II mumbles against your lips with a soft chuckle. Heavy, warm fabric is draped across your shoulders, your fingers instinctually reach up to rub along the edge of the thick denim jacket. “I wanted to make sure you were warm enough. It’s a nice night, but it still gets pretty cold out here.” You found yourself cuddled into his side, the campfire keeping you comfortable despite the chill in the air. II excitedly pointed out every constellation he recognized, filling your mind with tales of adventure, the bravest heroes, the most passionate of love stories. “Right there, that’s Andromeda. She’s famous for nearly being eaten by a sea monster because her mother tried to say she was more beautiful than the sea nymphs.” You can’t help but laugh slightly at the absurd story.

“Well, what do you think?” II gives you a curious glance. “Was she prettier than the sea nymphs?”

“She definitely wasn’t as pretty as you.” You stuttered out a shocked sound in response, your cheeks immediately growing warm. “You’re really bad at accepting compliments.” He points out bluntly, a hint of a smile in his tone.

“I’m just not really used to getting them I guess.” You admit with a bashful chuckle.

“You’re unfortunately going to have to get used to that then.” He glances down at you, his bright blue eyes meeting yours and freezing you in place. “You’re beautiful, I’m not about to let you forget that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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rainbowhao · 2 days

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not like i'm in love with you ♡ beomgyu

genre: fluff ⭒ word count: 0.6k

it didn't help that you were always clingy towards beomgyu. everyone was convinced you were dating and the more-than-friendly actions only made things worse. but you were just a little touchy, that's all. and so what if you stared at each other longer than deemed normal? it's not like you were in love with him or something.

there were his dimples, for example. you were obligated to poke them every time you saw them. how could you not? he'd do this adorable grin (was it weird you liked his teeth?) and suddenly they'd appear. you'd waste no time pressing your finger into his cheek, sometimes even cupping it if you were feeling extra affectionate.

"must you do that every time?" beomgyu would sigh. deep down you knew he enjoyed it.

and hugging from behind. it was easy for him to just slot himself between your arms, to press his chest against your back and allow his chin to rest on top your head. it was comforting—the familiar scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body and gentle heartbeat. sometimes your eyes would flutter closed and you'd just stand there together in silence.

there were also his puppy eyes. trust beomgyu to take advantage of them at all times. one look and you were gone. he could ask for anything and you'd agree because only a fool would say no. and if he was really desperate, he'd throw in a little pout too.

"come on." he groaned. "let me stay the night." his bottom lip stuck out, eyes round. "please?"

you pushed him away playfully. "you're evil."

he just laughed.

plus, the others never failed to tease their fellow member whenever he called you sweetheart. they'd gasp and cover their mouths, making finger hearts or repeating the nickname in an exaggerated voice. he'd only grin sheepishly and take it. maybe to everyone else, it seemed unusual. but to beomgyu, it was the most natural thing in the world.

"may i have this dance?" beomgyu asked before dramatically bowing, hand gracefully extended.

the two of you liked to battle to see who could dance worse. the night would always end with you in his arms as you swayed to the gentle sound of music.

"you need the practice," he'd say as an excuse.

"you're not much better," you'd challenge back.

"sweetheart," beomgyu smirked, as if he knew something you didn't, "i let you win."

and then—the bed situation. you always slept better with someone by your side and beomgyu was more than happy to crawl in next you. he was just so soft and pillowy; there was nothing more to it. at least, that's what you'd tell yourself as you draped across his torso. his hand held your waist, arm wrapped snugly around you.

maybe it was when you woke up that you truly questioned it. his long hair covered his eyes, cheeks puffed and voice groggy as he told you good morning with a dopey smile. your face warmed a little at the sight. suddenly you felt self conscious.

"gyu," you whispered.

he blinked tiredly. "yeah?"

you weren't sure why you said it.

the bottom of his tee had ridden up from sleeping. without thinking, your fingers found his soft skin. you could feel his muscles tighten beneath your touch in surprise. you couldn't even look at him properly. the situation was far more intimate than it should have been and you weren't in your right mind.

"don't stop." he whined when your movements still. his lips were so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath. all it would take is one of you leaning in for your mouths to meet. did you want to kiss your best friend? and why was he looking at you like that?

maybe everyone was onto something.

#beomgyu #tomorrow x together #txt #choi beomgyu #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt beomgyu #txt fluff #txt fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #txt fics #beomgyu fics #txt drabbles

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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 days

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Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: You're Tom's makeup artist for a movie he's shooting and you absolutely hate him. However, one round of karaoke later, your feelings temporarily shift.

Genre: Fluff, smidge of angst, Enemies to Lovers (very one-sided lmao)

Warnings: Tom is a stupid asshole (but he's also just a mess), swearing, light misogyny, slapping, alcohol, being drunk/high.

The bar is dimly lit and the loud music resounds in your ear as your knee bounces. You stir the straw around your drink, sighing as you turn to Vanessa, your co-worker. "He left me another post-it note on the desk yesterday telling me he wants a new lip oil because his now tastes weird!? His last one is only from last week and it's the same brand he always uses! I'm so sick of his bullshit, V," you drop your head in your arms and then peek up at Vanessa again, "He's such a dick."

Vanessa laughs, sipping on her margarita, as she shrugs, "Didn't you know that when you took the job, honey?"

"I mean, sure. But those could have been rumors," you pout and sit up, moving some hair behind your ear as you look around the room, where other crew members have gathered around the karaoke machine.

"Listen, don't think about Tom Ryder. You're off the clock and everyone knows he's a world-class asshole—a pretty world-class asshole, I will let him have that," Vanessa hums and also turns her attention to the rest of your friends and co-workers as she claps her hands.

You look down at your drink, your cheeks feeling warmer than usual. Not thinking about Tom Ryder was easier said than done when you had to work on his face 5 days a week. He was so infuriating most times, either talking down to you when you worked or wouldn't cooperate with anything you told him to do because he was on his phone. Sometimes he really makes you want to stab the mascara stick into his eye.

Still, you can't deny he's extremely handsome and that just annoys you more.

Suddenly, you hear a bunch of cheers and hoots from outside, directly accompanied by the sound of the door slamming open. When you hear an all too familiar voice, your eyes widen and you snap around to make sure you hadn't just imagined it.

Tom Ryder coming to one of the crew parties? No fucking way. Obviously, he's always invited to them but in a very arrogant fashion he never shows up—which is one of the reasons you do, because he never does.

Only this time he did and he's not alone.

Tom is dressed in another one of his boisterous outfits, his shirt loosely unbuttoned to reveal his chest and a peak of his toned abs. Pink-tinted sunglasses sit on his nose and his dirty blond hair curls messily around his face.

He looks drunk, or high, when he walks in and you can't tell which one it is because he's constantly moving and laughing. He's accompanied by a few other low A-list actor friends he has and a pretty blond model hangs on his arm, her giggles instantly infuriating you.

How can she stand to be near him for more than a minute? Even less hold his arm and be his eye-candy?

You turn back around, desperately attempting to calm the bile rising in your throat. God, you hate him. You feel even worse when he leans beside you at the bar and orders a drink from the bartender, snapping his fingers as he does. He doesn't even address your presence beside him and your blood boils.

Your anger immediately turns to disgust when you hear the man hosting the karaoke scream out Tom Ryder's name.

"Tom Ryder everyone! I loved your new movie, man, it was awesome! How about a song?" the man asks, eyebrows wiggling as the crew clap (mostly out of politeness) and his friends make loud, drunken noises like a bunch of animals.

"C'mon! One song—for all the pretty ladies in the crowd!"

Tom seems intrigued when the man mentions the girls. You roll your eyes and your hand tightens around your glass as he walks up to the host, raising his hands in surrender and feigning humbleness. "Alright, alright, I have to give the ladies what they want, don't I?" Tom boasts, winking at one of the camera girls he never looks at otherwise.

Someone put you out of your misery now.

The host seems ecstatic to have someone this famous next to him and asks Tom for a quick photo, which Tom obviously doesn't turn down. You pretend to gag when Vanessa turns to look at you and smirks at Tom's behavior..

"How about a duet, Ryder?" The host asks as he hands him the mic.

"Nah, I usually sing solo," Tom says, his words slightly slurred, and then he leans in to whisper something in the host's ear—which probably goes something like, "Unless she's got a nice rack, then by all means invite her up here."

You lean in and whisper into Vanessa's ear, "Ten bucks he takes home the girl he ends up singing with," you say with a frown, your voice a little strained. Vanessa laughs and then the worst thing happens.

"You," the host shouts and you look up alarmed. Your eyes are wide when you realize everyone, including Tom, is staring at you. "The angry-looking girl in the back. Why don't you come up and join him? I doubt he'd bite."

Laughter, including some nervous ones from your friends, resounds around the room as Tom's smirk widens. You'd be surprised, you think. You find your voice again and say, "Um, can't you ask one of them?" you point to the group of eager fangirls swarming around the small stage as they ogle Tom.

"C'mon, sweetheart," Tom slurs, squinting at you, "One song won't kill you."

But you might just kill him.

Vanessa, the traitor, nudges you again and you stumble from the stool. You glare at her but when all your friends, including Tom's more obnoxious friends, chant encouragements you feel completely trapped.

The walk to the small stage feels eerily similar to a walk of shame as you look to your co-workers in hopes someone will save you. No one does and you ignore the stares from all the girls who wish they could take your place.

You're blinded by the lights as you step on the stage and approach the host. "Atta girl," the man smirks patronizingly as he hands you the second mic. You scrunch your nose at him and then look up at Tom, expecting him to be ignoring you like he usually is, but instead, he's staring.

His cheeks are pink from being intoxicated and he tilts his head, watching you clutch the mic nervously.

The host doesn't warn you when the song begins to play and he walks away. You realize too late you and Tom are now alone and everyone is watching you as dread slowly fills your stomach.

You don't even know how to sing! This is so humiliating.

The familiar melody of, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart," fills the air and you feel the heat rise in your chest and up to your ears. Your heart is pounding so loudly you can only faintly hear Tom start to sing the song. He sounds fairly good and you aren't surprised considering he's an actor.

Your voice catches in your throat and you feel tears rise. You don't sing when it's your turn and the crowd is silent.

Suddenly, you jump when you feel a strong hand on your hip and you snap your head around to look at him. Your hand finds Tom's hand immediately, gripping it, and just as you're about to pull it away, he leans in and whispers, hot against your ear, "Baby doll, you're making me look bad," he states, his tone as condescending as it always is, and your heart does a somersault in your chest.

He looks down at you this time, his blue eyes lock with yours for a moment and his hand falters on your hip. For an actor, Tom Ryder has surprisingly no poker face because when he sees your distressed state, his demeanor shifts, and instead of frustration, he takes on a different approach.

He takes your hand, suddenly twirling you around and you make a small sound as you stumble. It's been a few seconds since anyone has sung the song, so he sings again and this time, his eyes stay on yours as he sings your lyrics.

"You know this," he mouths, encouraging you as he does this weird, clearly drunk-induced shimmy that makes you laugh despite your better judgment. He points to the small screen where the lyrics are displayed.

You take a breath and then sing, focusing on him instead of the crowd and your head feels light. You would have never guessed there would be a day when you'd find comfort in Tom Ryder. Your friends clap with amusement and laughter swirls around the bar as you both continue to sing and dance.

Occasionally, Tom will pull you in closer but you'll move away, flustered, and when the song finally ends, you move back and almost trip on the mic's cord.

With a gasp, you expect to fall flat on your ass but instead, Tom wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as your palms press on his chest. You're breathing heavily and so is he, his hand is still on your back as his eyes roam over all your features until you push him away and walk down the small stairs and back to the ground where all your friends are whispering and clapping.

You feel like you can't breathe, your heart beating so quickly. You mumble a quick "excuse me" to Vanessa, snatch your purse from the bar counter, and open the door to outside. The cool air calms your burning skin and you lean against the building.

What the fuck was that? Why was he looking at you like that?

"You know, it's normal to be nervous around someone like me," Tom's voice interrupts your panic and you spin around, not expecting to see him. "But running from me? Now, darling, that's truly a first," he finishes with a chuckle and an obnoxious smirk.

"You're so full of yourself," you whisper automatically but then your eyes round as if you've realized what you'd said.

Tom looks surprised but he also remains cool as he strokes a hand down his jaw and puts it on his hip. "Mm, I assume you're not a fan then."

You cross your arms and look anywhere but directly at him because fuck, why did someone so incredibly stupid and pretentious have to be so darn hot? "You could say that, sure," you shrug. "Not everyone likes you, Tom Ryder." You shut yourself up as soon as the words leave your mouth. This isn't exactly something you should say to someone who you work with.

However, Tom's expression sours and he lifts his eyebrow. "You don't like me?"

You turn to him, eyes locking with him this time. "That isn't what I said."

Tom's eyebrows crease and he squints at you, removing his stupid sunglasses and they push back his blond hair. "You're confusing me." He sounds genuine.

You can't help but chuckle at his idiocy and surprisingly for you, your laughter makes him smile. He leans in and you lean away, eyes round when you realize how close he's becoming. "You have such a sexy laugh," he says cockily, "Bet I can make you do it again."

You hate to admit this but your heart does flutter at his words. Can anyone really blame you? It's Tom. Fucking. Ryder. You try to remind yourself how much of a dick he is—and always has been—but as you look into the blue of his eyes, his reassuring touch burns imprints on your skin and you feel dizzy.

Shit.

"You look familiar," Tom straightens himself, "Have I seen you somewhere? You been in any magazines? You certainly have the look."

You ignore the so-called complement and stare at him. He has to be kidding. You've been doing his makeup for over six months now and he supposedly sees you almost every day. You worked on his face every single day—how could he not recognize you? You open your mouth to ask if this is a joke but he interrupts you.

"Seriously, I must know you from somewhere. Gimme a hint, baby,"

Your stomach sinks and you feel so so stupid. Tom doesn't sense your shift as he's still focused on whatever fleeting emotion may have been between you before as his hand finds your hip.

Instantly, your palm connects with his cheek, and the sound cracks into the air. "Don't touch me," you say harshly, ignoring how shaky your voice is.

Tom looks at you, his hand over his bruised cheek, "You hit me?!" he says in disbelief, "What the fu—"

You don't stick around to hear his whining as you turn around and run from him.

Again.

"Hey–wait!" you hear Tom's shout but why would you turn around now? Tears of frustration brim your eyes as you hastily walk down the empty sidewalk.

There is no way you're fucking crying over Tom fucking Ryder right now, you tell yourself and pinch the inside of your eyes.

No way.

You ignore Vanessa's incessant calling and her worried texts when you arrive at your apartment. You scream in frustration, throwing your heels across the room and scaring your poor cat, Pumpkin, as she sprints into the living room, her claws against the floorboards.

Quickly, you follow her and scoop her into your arms, "'M sorry, baby," you coo and nuzzle your nose into her fur. "I'm sorry Mommy scared you."

You hear Vanessa's fifth call from your purse but you're too exhausted to deal with her and the fallout from what had happened tonight, so instead you sit on the couch and cuddle with Pumpkin, scratching behind her ears.

* * *

When you pull into the parking lot of the new set the next morning, you haven't slept well and you feel like shit—it doesn't help that they're filming outside today, in the summer heat, and grainy sand infiltrates into your Converse.

You groan as you walk over to the makeup trailer and see Vanessa waiting for you. You almost called in sick this morning until you realized how guilty that would make you look, so you sucked it up.

"Y/n?!" Vanessa shrieks and pulls you behind the trailer. "Where have you been?! I've called you a hundred times, why haven't you answered any of them? I was worried Ryder somehow took you home and that I'd lost 10 bucks—"

"Gross, why would you think that?" you say with disgust as if you weren't surprised to hear that after you left Tom hadn't returned to the bar.

"I mean, for one, Ryder was missing and no one knew where he went. And second, are you shitting me? Girl, the tension was more than palpable! You were practically dry-humping Tom Ryder in front of everyone!"

You feel like someone has just punched you in the stomach and your voice comes out high and nervous when you exclaim, "I was not! It wasn't like that, V! Is that what everyone thinks?" Vanessa nods as an answer and you want to scream.

"I swear, I- nothing happened—even outside—I- funny story I slapped him because he's a jerk and I- I don't like him!" you ramble and your heart thumps quicker when Vanessa looks behind you and her mouth curls into a devious smirk.

"Don't look now, sweetie, but your boyfriend just arrived," she pauses and checks her watch, "An hour late. As usual." Vanessa looks you dead in the eyes and then she teases, "Chop chop, time to put makeup on your man."

Your eyes widen and you pull Vanessa further behind the trailer so Tom won't see you or her. You hold her shoulders. "Please switch with me for today. He won't even notice the difference, and Allie doesn't need to have her makeup done until noon so that way I don't have to see him! Please, V, I'll do anything!"

Vanessa crosses her arms, "Nothing happened with him, hm?"

You look at her, your eyes round and pleading, "Please."

"Fine, but you're paying for my lunch later," she says and taps your nose, "and giving me a detailed rundown on what happened with Ryder."

You nod reluctantly, whispering a small thank you under your breath as she turns to walk into the makeup trailer behind Tom. You let out a breath, leaning against the trailer. You know you'll have to face him at some point—just not now.

The day drags on and on as the heat is becoming almost unbearable. You stand to the side, your makeup kit secured to your hip as you watch the scene from under a tent. It's another action sequence and it's very obvious Tom's makeup is fading from the warmth and his sweat.

Shit, you realize, he needs a touch-up. Vanessa didn't use the correct primer.

You look around, hoping to see Vanessa and tell her Ryder needs a touch but the director's voice cuts in and you tense, "Cut! Someone come to fix his face!" Jody turns to you, her eyes kind as her voice becomes a little less stressed when she sees you're prepared for this, "Can you fix his makeup?"

Shit, shit, shit.

This is your job, you can't say no so you walk out onto the set where Tom is leaning against a prop rock. He straightens himself and when he turns, he doesn't have the chance to process your presence as you guide him down and fumble with your kit.

He's taller than you so he's leaning down so you can fix him up properly. You put your hand on his jaw, near his ear, to steady him as you touch up under his eyes and near his cheekbones.

He's staring at you and you know he recognizes you this time, his blue eyes wide and puppy-like.

Silently, you add some powder on his cheeks and nose so the product sticks better this time and when you let him go, Tom opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head no, and then you turn your head and hurry back behind the camera.

Your ears are burning from embarrassment as you walk directly to the makeup trailer, without looking back at anyone.

You've barely closed the door when it slams open and you scream. You spin around just as someone tries to hold onto your arm and on instinct you grab the hairspray that's in your kit and spray it directly into… Tom's eyes.

He screams too, his voice high-pitched and very un-sexy, as he clutches his eyes. Seeing him only causes you to scream again. "Ryder?!" you exclaim and immediately take his arm, pulling him inside the trailer as he wails like a child and rubs at his eyes.

You slap his hands away and push him down under the faucet, pouring water into his eyes and in the process drenching his blond hair and ruining his mascara.

"Fuck," he groans as he sputters out water as he jerks away from you. You move closer to him and without thinking hold both of his cheeks in your hands, looking directly into his, now slightly irritated, eyes.

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, clearly concerned.

Tom rests his hands on yours and pulls them away, "What do you think?" he groans and blinks a few times. "You're the girl—" he mutters and pinches his nose, "at karaoke. I remember you now."

You realize how close you are to him now and, overwhelmed, you step back. "Lucky me," you mumble sarcastically and take his arm, pulling him to one of the seats. "I have to fix your face again or someone is gonna fire me."

He's weirdly docile as he looks at your work as you dry his hair. Once you're done, he speaks up, "Why'd you run from me? I mean, c'mon, the way you looked at me with those fuck-me eyes—"

Tom has no shame and of course, he wouldn't. He's probably never really been rejected in his entire life and women have most likely let him speak to them like this. You pause and pull his chin harder so he's looking at you as you continue with his mascara.

"Tell me honestly Ryder, do you even hear yourself when you speak?" you ask, your voice strained.

"What?" Tom asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"You're an asshole. That's why I ran from you." You drop his chin and your word vomit comes out without you being able to help it as you cross your arms, "I mean—I have been doing your makeup for months! And you've only ever left me your stupid post-it notes when you have a demand! No "Hi," "Good morning," "How are you?" No. Nothing like that. And I tried! I really tried in the beginning because like everyone else on this fucked up planet I thought you were awesome."

Tom opens his mouth to make a snide comment but you instantly press your finger to his lips.

"I really thought, "I'm so lucky to be Tom Ryder's makeup artist!" and then I found out Tom Ryder is a shit person that doesn't—"

"I'm not a shit person," Tom deadpans and stares at you as if your words have hurt him.

You tilt your head and drop your arms to your side. You don't even know what to say to him anymore.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I made you feel shitty, okay?" Tom defends and his cheeks are pink, "I just—I am really bad with faces—and I-I was completely shit-faced and high on–"

He pauses, stands, and wraps his hand around your jaw, his thumb stroking your bare cheek as your eyes widen and you tense. Something about his charm makes it impossible for you to move and because his touch is gentle, you aren't too worried. For now. "'M sorry. I am. Can't we call it even since you hit me and sprayed me in the face with whatever that fucking was?!"

He continues, "—listen, I liked karaoke with you and I was shit-faced so I know I must have been a dick."

"You're always a dick, Ryder," you comment, your tone less mad than earlier.

"Then, you don't know me very well," Tom shrugs, "or like at all."

"So—you're saying all this dick-ishness is a persona?" You sound very skeptical and Tom just shrugs as his thumb strokes over your skin once more and then he drops his hand, putting some distance between you and him.

"No. Not entirely. But, you know, that doesn't mean I'm incapable of genuine feelings, Y/n."

You're surprised when you hear your name fall from his lips. Tom sees your expression and another one of his smirks curls at his lips, "As I said, I remember you now. Always did—my hot makeup artist—ask anyone—ask Gail, I mention you a lot. I was just hammered, you know? High out my mind—and it heightened all my fucking senses that I couldn't get your laugh out my head for hours."

"If you're joking," you say and glare at him, "it isn't funny."

Tom puts a hand on his heart dramatically, "'M not. Scouts fucking honor."

You look at him and for once, you can't read him. "Well, either way, that doesn't change how much of an asshole you've been to me. You never said "hi" but you told Gail about me? Sorry, but that doesn't impress me."

You walk up to him and tilt his head using his chin, examining his make-up once more, and then you take his arm and try to pull him out of the trailer, "Now, c'mon, you have a job to do—go do it," you hiss.

"But—"

"No," you start but he won't move. He turns around and stares at you. Fuck, he's strong. "Why won't you leave?" you ask, breathless as you step away from him.

"Do you hate me so much that you won't even consider that I genuinely find you interesting?" he asks with a hint of insecurity in his voice again. "That I liked spending time with you and I think you're pretty."

Your chest tightens and you sigh, "I- I don't know," you admit and you look up at him. You can't deny that your feelings have shifted and a little voice in your head screams that this is a trap and he'll eventually break your heart.

"Here," Tom fumbles with the pants of his costume and pulls out a pen and a post-it note.

"You seriously just carry those on you?" you crack a smile, finding that weirdly endearing.

Idiot.

"Yeah," Tom says like it's the most normal thing ever and then he writes down something on the paper. When he hands it to you it's the name of a restaurant. You frown, it's your favorite restaurant. He'd written a time beside the name.

"How do you know this is my favorite restaurant?" you ask.

Tom looks up, his smirk turning into a smile. "I didn't—it's mine."

Your frown deepens, "Hm, I didn't take you for a low-priced family-run Chinese restaurant kinda guy—don't you have a personal chef or something," you say and look at the time he's written down, "What is this anyway?"

Tom shrugs and adjusts his hair. "I do but I like this place. The family who owns it never tells anyone I've been there, it gives me some privacy," he sounds serious and he walks closer to you, "Don't tell anyone, it might ruin my reputation and then your favorite restaurant might be swarmed by a bunch of fangirls," he smirks, pleased with himself.

You can't help but chuckle.

"And this," he points to the time, "is where I'll be tomorrow evening if you'd like to join me," he says nonchalantly and then opens the trailer door. Just as he does, he takes his phone and takes a picture of the time so he remembers it and he sends you a wink. "I won't wait long but if you do come, it's on me."

You stare at the paper and realize Tom Ryder has just asked you on a date. You look up but he's gone and your heart does about ten thousand summersaults as your brain screams in agony. Your cheeks feel warm as you fold the paper up and put it in the pocket of your jeans.

You're so very screwed.

You hear a ding and then a text from Vanessa saying, "Ryder's mic was on—crew heard absolutely everything—we didn't wanna interrupt your moment," she adds a mocking winking emoji but you don't care.

That's the least of your worries now that you have a date with Tom Ryder.

#tom ryder #tom ryder x reader #tom ryder x fem!reader #tom ryder x y/n #tom ryder x you #tom ryder fluff #tom ryder smut #tom ryder fanfic #tom ryder fanfiction #tom ryder imagines #tom ryder the fall guy #the fall guy #the fall guy aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson fic #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #tom 🎬

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poetryvampire · 3 days

Text

The Song of Rolan

Dingdong! Horny Rolan posting hours again. I started writing head canons for how vocal our lovely wizard can get. It got a bit long so I turned it in a little fic. Also sorry for the name im a lit nerd

Words: 2,705

Rating: Explicit

Rolan x AFAB! Reader

Prompt: Rolan's voice drives you crazy. But he has a terrible habit of stifling all his pretty little noises in bed. You help him fix that.

Tags: teasing, pointy ear play, a touch of edging, dry humping, sloppy oral, p and v sex, bit of overstimulation, creampie, riding that tiefling straight to hell and back

It was an understatement to say you were proud of Rolan. He was an accomplished wizard, loving brother and - in your opinion-the perfect partner. One that you could see yourself spending the rest of your days with. That's not to say he didn't get on your nerves. Not only with his grumpy tendencies but more so with his habit of over working. You adored his passion and drive to further his studies but it had led to more and more long lonely nights. Either from him traveling with colleagues or the tiefling locking himself in his study to work on a multitude of projects until morning light.

He had returned home only yesterday having spent almost two full weeks away and yet he still seems dead set to spend all evening pouring over his notes. The Wizard's focus was getting worse by the day. Not that he hadn't been overjoyed to see you. He had practically knocked you off your feet with the intensity of his hug when he came striding through the door. You had spent hours locked in each other's arms in your large shared bed. Steadily he moved between tales of his journey and peppering your skin with feverish kisses.

Rolan had taken you greedily. Frantic, practically tripping over himself trying to touch all of you at once. He couldn't quite find a voice for his needs but you swayed to him happily, matching his clumsy passion. There was plenty of the time to truly savor each other. But still your patience was running thin.

Somehow you had once again found yourself in an empty bedroom starving for your partner. Last night had been a sweet reunion but it did little to quell the fire Rolan lad lit in you while he was away. He had only been gone a few days when a letter arrived that left you breathless. Deciding to skip over the details of his journey he focused instead on his longing for you.

'What little beauty there is to be had here is dwarfed a thousand times by the thought of you. I dream of you always. Of being wrapped in your divine cunt. Of feeling it pulse against my tongue. Gods, I am your slave. Use me only for your pleasure. Let me worship you, my heart.'

His words rang in your head even now, pooling that familiar heat down below. How you wanted him. Wanted to hear such words from his own lips. From the moment you met you’d been in love with the deep rumble of his voice. Nothing gave you such satisfaction as pulling music from Rolan’s lips as you made love. It wasn't easy. Even still he had trouble fully letting himself go. Often he would stifle his words and moans to your great dismay. You recall gazing up at him as you ran your tongue over his length to find his hand clamped tightly over his mouth muffling his cries. A senseless action as you two had been the only people home at the time.

Swiftly you move to your wardrobe every drop of patience spent. You need him; to wring every moan, grunt and whimper out of that man or it would kill you. He deserves to relish in and express his pleasure freely. Perhaps he just needs a little push.

Much to your relief the tower was empty by this hour. You moved lightly through the halls wearing nothing but a sheer purple dressing gown.

You tap your knuckles against the hard oak door as you enter his study. He was exactly as you had pictured him, four open books across his desk and him writing furiously.

"Beloved!" He half glances at you as he takes a quick slip from his wine glass. "Now don't worry," he continues flipping pages. "I hadn't forgotten about you. This was intended to be a short little report but I just keep finding revisions that seem a shame not to add."

Going above and beyond as always. You can't help but smile as you watch him, those tantalizing eyes darting from paper to paper. Just the sight of him makes the warmth of excitement flare in you. You feel your nipples hardening against the thin fabric you wore. He's dressed down; the lacing on his ruffled white shirt undone to his mid chest and sleeves pushed up past the elbow. Such a small glimpse of extra skin makes your heart race. Hopefully you can rise the same reaction.

"You have such a way with words it would be rude not to." You purr, moving to his side.

"I'll be done soon, truly." He can hear the need in your voice. "Then I'm all yours."

You hum amused as you lift his glass to take a deep drink.

"You sound like you don't believe me." Rolan's hand passes through the space once hosting his glass. "Have I ever let you down in the-"

His eyes finally snap to you and his words catch sharply in his throat, blood rushing to his face. You laugh, finishing the glass.

" What's the matter, my love? You're usually so generous with your words."

"I- I-you," He stammers.

"I seem to remember such generosity in a letter you wrote."

You undo the gown. His eyes fix on you as you let it fall to the floor. As many times as he's seen it the sight of you in your full glory drives him wild.

"Do you remember that letter?"

"Oh, of course." His voice is barely a whisper, his body tense as if ready to pounce on you.

To his surprise you straddle him and his hands fly to your hips drawing you closer. Both of you groan into a deep kiss as you grind yourself down against the quickly growing tent in his trousers.

"Do you want to please me?" You growl half into his mouth.

"More than anything." He gasps between kisses.

You pull away, placing a finger over his lips. His beaming cheeks and pleading eyes stoke your maddening hunger for him.

"Then let me please you. I need to feel it and hear it. Let me drown in you, Rolan."

"Gods above," He groans.

You can see he's already holding back. But you would have to help him along by targeting his weak points. You start with his neck, ghosting your lips over him, letting the tension build. Your hot breath sends a shiver down his spine as he grasps your thighs trying to push you on.

At last you press your lips to his skin earning a soft hiss. You try to go slow but make your need apparent with the ferocity of your mouth. A deep sigh escapes him as you attack his jawline, sucking and teasing as you go. Rolan bucks his hips suddenly, huffing. He's too shy to ask but he's dying for you to touch his ears.

A quick bite to the lobe earns another sharp gasp. You laugh knitting your fingers through his hair- Gods his sounds make your heart flutter.

"Oh? Did you like that, my love?" You coo into his neck. There's words on his lips but they melt away as your tongue slowly traces the shell of his ear right to the tip. "Hhm? What was that? Are you unsure? But you're usually so strong in your convictions." You repeat the action making him squirm underneath you. You grind down on his bulge creating a delicious friction. "However can I know you're enjoying yourself if you don't tell me?"

"It's good." He chokes out at last, meeting the movements of your eager hips.

"What is? We can't all be scholars you know." You draw away from him slightly. "What do you want?"

He laughs as a devilish grin spreads across his parted lips.

"Everything. You're so, you're so- " his words falter. He still feels your breath on him but the lack of contact makes it clear you're waiting. It's only in times like this when Rolan has difficulty summoning words.

"I've never heard of a wizard so speechless." You goad him and start to move away. "Must want to get back to his dusty old books rather than-"

"No!" He cries, locking his arms around you keeping you in place. "Your mouth- your tongue feels so fucking good I can't stand it."

You lick a strip down his neck while bringing your hands to the sides of his head, making sure to brush your fingers across the points of his ears, pulling a low shudder from him.

"There's the man that wrote me such an inspiring letter. That made me plunge my fingers in myself and dream of his cock."

He swears through his teeth, his eyes sparkling with desire.

"And where do you want my mouth?" You continue practically able to feel the heat flash across his face. Your tongue slides across his clavicle and then moves lower to lap at the ridges on his chest. "Here, then?"

'No,' he breathes.

You swear you can feel him twitch in his pants. Moving your mouth lower you open his shirt completely and do away with it. You stop at the sharp ridge above his stomach.

"Oh, here?"

He shakes his head, face now blazing hot. Pained whines fall from him as your mouth climbs back up the path of his chest. It isn't until you graze his Adam's apple that he breaks.

"My cock! Fuck I need your mouth on my cock. I need it now, please." He pleads like his life is at stake.

Instantly you're on the floor in front of him pushing his legs apart. You let out a moan yourself once you've sprung him free. You admire just how heavy he is in your hands and run your fingers over the ridges you wish were currently pounding into you.

With a throaty gasp a few drops of precum spill from his head just as you flick your tongue over it. You don't make him wait long before you take him into your mouth.

His moans ring through the room; the music you've been dying to hear. You waste no time taking him apart. Your mouth runs up and down his full length as you hollow your cheeks. With a loud pop you release him, a string of saliva still connecting you.

Rolan stairs transfixed, his exquisitely carved chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Like this?"

"Yes! Love, it's perfect. Keep sucking, just like that."

Before the words are past his lips you've swallowed him down again, your eyes never leaving his. Now comes your turn to rid the fears that hold you back. As you bob your head you make no mind of the symphony of wet, lewd noises filling the air.

The obscene display tears a guttural groan from him. Unable to hold off any longer move you press a hand to your wetness as you relish taking him like this. The feel, the sound, the smell. It was quite literally making your mouth water. You switch to running your tongue from base to tip stopping only to tease him with a few quick flicks at his head. Drunk on lust at the sounds of his grunts and murmurs you dip your fingers into your dripping hole.

"Nine hells." He shakes out, breathing hard. "Tell me, what have I done to deserve such adoration?”

Rolan’s eye then focuses on your hands. One pleasuring yourself and the other roaming your own body. You throw your head back with a soft sigh, his unyielding gaze intensifying your pleasure.

"What a wanton little thing you are." Rolan licks his lips in awe.

You protest for a moment as he snatches your hand away from your sex but hum in approval as he licks them clean.

"You sweet thing.”He coos after slowly releasing your digits. “Let me take care of that."

The swift flourish of magic swirls pass and you scream as you find yourself tumbling back on the plush blankets of your bed. Somehow it still catches you off guard.

Rolan has your legs pushed apart in seconds, taking a moment to breathe you in before going to work. Gently pulling your folds open his expert fingers, his tongue ravished you with the same pace you had set. In moments he had your hips shaking involuntarily. Each painfully sweet lash on your clit making you chant his name.

Yet you still weren't sated in your need to watch your lover twist in ecstasy. Taking him by the horns you pull his mouth to yours, lapping at his lips to savor the taste of your sex.

"How can I be of service?" Rolan purrs, a wicked smile forming.

"Lay back.”

He complies and you straddle his hips once more. You drag your core against his agonizingly hard cock. Now you were free to delight in the bumps and ridges you so adored. Your slick coats you both allowing you to slide over him with ease.

Rolan tries to caress you but you pull his hands away and pin them to the bed making him shudder.

"No, love. Leave them here." You roll your hips slowly bearing down, pushing a sharp whimper from his throat. "You just focus on this." Another roll, another whine. As you move your hands away he digs his claws into the sheets to obey. His eyes rake over you, especially as your speed increases. The sight of your breasts bouncing never failed to make him feral with lust.

Quickly the last of his composure is slipping away as you grind over him. His hair framing his face wildly, his body trembling with effort not to take control and plunge into you. He howls when his tip catches on your entrance.

"Oh is this what you want now? What a greedy thing you are." You tease.

"Please, mercy." he rasps out as you lower yourself ever so slightly only to pull away. “Give it to me, please! Love, I need you.”

“How do you need me?” you wiggle your hips, toying with him.

“I need to be inside.” He breathes, his frustration palpable as his tail snaps against the mattress.

With unsteady thighs you sink enough to just take in his tip before slowly drawing back.

“Fuck, I need you.” Rolan cries, his voice breaking “I need to stretch that perfect tight little cunt. To feel it cum all over my cock. Gods, please fuck me!”

Unable to hold back any longer your body obeys and you take all of him at once. The sudden action rips a howl from you both. The slight pain and overwhelming pleasure of being so full does little to slow you down and you continue your animalistic pace.

The song spilling from Rolan’s lips has you intoxicated utterly. It’s a lurid rumble of repeating ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘fuck me’ and words in his own native tongue. You ride his cock with all you have drinking in the sight of him. His claws deep in the mattress now, he’s writhing and wailing below you.

Finally you pull his hands to your hips and his body jumps to match your rhythm. He’s practically sobbing now, eyes swimming with rapture and concentration as he drives himself into you. A spike of heat pulls at your core and with another desperate thrust you come undone, clenching uncontrollably around him. Another wave of unbearable pleasure hits you as your lover pulses and spills his hot load inside of you. He rides it out, ending his flurry of moans with a few deep ragged breaths.

Rolan catches you in his arms before you even realize you’ve started to fall forward and presses you to his chest. You languish there enjoying the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I don’t deserve you.” he says, tangling his fingers in your hair.

“You’re so dramatic” you sigh “I’ve just missed you. A lot.”

“Well, with a greeting like that I have half a mind to leave you more often.” he smirks.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Rolan kisses the top of your head, holding you tightly to him until you both fall into slumber.

Thanks for reading!

Much love <3

#this losers gonna end me #Rolan #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #rolan x reader #fics #rolan x tav #smut #rolan smut #scream #ride that wizard #teiflings

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villainofmyownstory · 1 day

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pairing: exhusband!Captain John Price x fem!Reader

summary: You visit your ex-husband, in your once shared home. The memories are painful. But only for you. Unfortunately, after that one bloody mission, John doesn't remember you. The memory of your life together, blurred in his mind.

tags: afab reader, hurt, ex lovers, ex-husband, recollection of death, loss of memory , ambiguous/open ending

1.6 k words

author's note: Once I wrote some random thoughts about our gorgeous captain. Today I've put it all together. Comments welcome, let me know if it's worth writing another part, because I don't know what to think. I guess I like sad stories…. and can't get the ex-husband plot out of my mind. Sorry not sorry <3

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The clock ticked quietly somewhere in the distance, deep in the corridor, steadily, rhythmically. The water in the kitchen tap dripped, quietly reminding you that you need to change the gasket but also to fix some other things in the flat. Even though you moved here a few months ago, you still don't feel at home. You feel uncomfortable. Like a guest in a hotel. All the objects seemed foreign, belonging to someone else. Or maybe nobody's. Everything has been renovated, painted, bought and new. Just for you.

Cat curled up in a ball, lies next to you on a small red sofa. And in front of you on a small, vintage coffee table steams warm coffee. Another one that day. The only meal for many weeks. You rub your eyes, even though no more tears have appeared in them for days. It still burns you and you feel this tingling under your eyelids. Something like fine sand, irritating your eyeballs and hurting the soft delicate flesh of your eyelids. You try to take it in stride. On days like these, weekends, holidays, when you are left alone in a small flat. You fall apart into millions of pieces. Alone. The pain under your ribs, the pressure in your sternum, your throat squeezed like in a vice. Memories haunt you at every step. A constant battle with the past, something you beg for every sleepless night to finally go away. To be finally erased. You should burn the photos, throw away the gifts. Bury the past at last. To move on. After all, this is what you wanted. A lot of time fighting, trying. Days of sweat shed, of anger, of trying again and again. And in the end, powerlessness.

Sunk in your thoughts, you stare, with heavy eyelids, at the empty space under the TV. Once, in another warm home, the shelf was filled with DVDs of one's favourite films. Classic.

A familiar sound interrupts your gloomy rush of thoughts. Looking at the phone screen, you smile slightly. Your boys have been calling every day. ‘Hi Johnny’ You say with a grunt, trying to chase away the sad thoughts, not letting him know that you are tormenting yourself with the past again.

You should not agree. The paperwork you signed, and the arrangements in the documents, were approved, many months ago. That was not the deal. This is not how you discussed the contract. This is not why you are sitting here now. Yet, you can't say no to them. Not after all they've given up their lives, made sacrifices and…

Sitting in an old rusty cheap car. In your familiar driveway, in this new, friendly neighbourhood. You hesitate to get out. Your hands are sweaty, in a firm grip on the worn-out steering wheel. So you give yourself a few minutes to calm down. You never wanted to show them, him, that you were continuing to suffer badly. That you haven't really moved on.

You have to be tough.

As the door finally slams shut behind you with a quiet click, the same scent reaches your nostrils once again. Earthy and heavy from the cigars and the cherry wood burning in the fireplace, a slightly sweet smoke with a subtle fruity aftertaste, with a slight bitter note. A scent so familiar, so close. But it's not your scent. The resignation has been signed. The decision had been made. There was no going back. Johnny stands in front of you looking at you apologetically. ‘Sure I understand. Duty calls.’ You say gently squeezing his shoulder in a gesture of understanding. Or maybe you want to convince yourself that you're not angry. There's no problem. Some kind of confirmation that it's not their fault you have to be here again. That you are standing in this big modern house, from a dream project . In the place that was supposed to be your home.

Of course boys hired 24/7 nursing. But also they themselves, his squad soldiers, alternated days and nights here. They practically lived here. So if the medical caretaker went for a few days' holiday and the three men had to go on a sudden urgent mission for a few days. It was your job to be here and help. You couldn't let them down. You could not say no. You could not answer the phone. Pretend it doesn't concern you. You had to be here. You had to be strong. For him.

When you are finally left alone in the hallway and the big car disappears around the corner. You feel that hole in your heart, opening up again. Those missing pieces to fill it. They are just behind a thin, wall. A couple of steps. A few seconds.

When you finally stand in the large room, as usual, dark curtains hang from the ceiling to the floor, covering the terraced windows. The semi-darkness of the room has always accompanied him when he watches movies. You stare at his profile illuminated by artificial television light. Despite the years spent in the army, the many litres of blood shed, the many scars on his body. He continued to watch the same films. War movies, classics. The screams and gunshots accompanied him since he opened his eyes and when he closed them. It was already burned into his mind. Written into his gut. It's just a shame that this one fucking wound, made him forget. He forgot about you. ‘Hi.’ You say uncertainly standing in the corner of the couch. You can't look at him.

You don't want to see the ocean blue of his irises, the wrinkles around his eyes. The slightly grey hair. The little freckle on his nose. The fidgety trimmed beard - which his boys were now taking care of. ‘Oh, mornin’ ‘ His voice seems even deeper to you, slightly hoarse. Perhaps already stranger. ‘How are you feeling today. Captain?’ You spit out the last word like a poisonous snake. You want to say something completely different. To shout what you said to him every night. Every morning intertwined when you were here, together. Alone. ‘You don't have to be so official, ma'am. I'm out of the army.’ John is gallant as ever. It's the same every damn time. Ma'am, lady. Miss. He's never said your name since that day. Forgotten. That hole in your heart, never to be filled by his pieces again.

The conversation goes on as usual, John again thinking you are just another medical assistant employed by his former teammates. Brothers in arms. Brothers in war. Brothers in the last of the battles. You want to shout to him how much you hate him, how much you despise him. How much it aches you. How much it hurts you that he doesn't remember anything. A bloody mission. Yet, as usual, you sit and listen once again to the same questions, the stories. As if you've turned on that worst episode of your favourite show again. The last one.

Every time he leaves. During every time he was away. On every such occasion. You were ready for the funeral. The black dress continued to hang in that wardrobe, a few rooms away.

Perhaps it would have been better if it had simply been buried six feet underground. In an oak dark box. Cold and with an equally empty head about you. Maybe it would be easier for you that way. You've already said goodbye to one light casket with his last name on it. Because that hole in your heart was much bigger than the missing fragments of your husband, ex-husband.

For a longer monologue, more memories, of his past work. Of his previous life. What you counted as ‘before’. Because what was ‘after’ was a blur. No matter. John stares at you, finally taking his eyes off the TV. The end credits move lazily across the large TV screen. You smile slightly when your gazes finally meet. He is handsome still. Maybe even more beautiful than you remembered him. It would seem that the man's calm face does not hide his wounded, hollow mind.

Physically he looks maybe even better than during his time in the army. In fact, better than at the time of your marriage. Unwittingly the corners of your mouth gently lift up. Doubtless Simon has been training with him, the hard workouts and the proper diet prepared by the new Captain are yielding great results. A well-deserved successor. A plain red t-shirt lightly framed John's broad, muscular shoulders. Grey casual sweatpants once too loose were now gently stretched around his massive thighs.

You don't have the strength to explain to him once again who you are. So when he once again addresses you as a total stranger you don't react. You wanted so badly to climb on his thighs, to punch him in the chest, maybe even scratch him. To make him feel some kind of pain at least for a moment, that thing you feel non-stop, something to bring you two together again. Feel his heart beat faster, and enter his mind, scratch out every shadowy particle. To brighten and put your memories there. Ours.

Nothing in this house resembles that life anymore. There are no pictures here. There are no flowers. There is no more laughter and joyful banter. No more singing and quiet murmurs of delight. The three of you are gone.

Finally, as you lower your gaze to his hands, which hesitantly stroke the fabric of the armchair. The image is blurred. Finally, tears well up in your eyes. You can no longer see a trace of the ring. No lighter stripe stands out on the slightly tanned skin. There is no faint hollow in the fleshy part of his worked-up ring finger. Although everything is a blur. The gold glistens gently reflecting the soft light of the television. The object that was such an important symbol. A vow. A promise. As if playfully winking at you.

#captain john price #captain price #call of duty #captain john price x reader #john price #cod x reader #exhusband!johnprice #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #john price cod #john price x reader #john price x you

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 1 day

Note

Hey,

Do you still take Hannibal requests? If you do, could you please write a story, where Hannibal get‘s very jealous after a night out in the opera. The reader had finally met Franklyn, who is very interested in her ( because she‘s friends with Hannibal and part of the cheese folk).Hannibal is visibly angry when they are back in their opera seats… Could you also please end it with smut ( if you are comfortable with that).Thanks for considering!<3

A/n: Hey Hon thanks for the request i hope you like it!

Hannibal Lector x Reader: Jealousy, Jealousy

Warnings:smut, biting, kissing, penetration (p in v), fingering, possessive behaviour, public sex, unwanted flirting (from Franklin), fluff, happy ending, no use of y/n, female reader

Word count:2,9K

Hannibal is pissed. No scratch that. He’s seething. But you can’t see it. No one can. He’s just that good at hiding it. Even so, everyone has a breaking point.

This was Hannibals.

Franklin had met you at the last opera you and Hannibal had gone to and from that moment it seemed he had grown some sort of infatuation with you. Hannibal always loathed his sessions with Franklin, his ever growing desire to be Hannibal’s friends making the doctor rather uncomfortable, but he never imagined it could get worse. Boy was he mistaken. It seemed like Franklin couldn’t utter a single sentence without mentioning your name. Hannibal watched him dance around the subject for days until he finally got to the point.

“You think you could give me her number?”

“I'm sorry?”

“Her number. I wanted to ask if she’d be free for some wine tasting but I don't know how to reach her. And then I thought you must have her number since you two seem close.”

“I don’t think she’d be interested.”

“Oh well maybe you could give me it anyway and i could ask-”

“I will not be giving you her number and that is final.”

An eerie silence took over the room. Hannibal watched Franklin open and close his mouth silently before settling back into his chair. It seemed clear to Hannibal that his patient had finally gotten the message.

Once again he was wrong.

You were nursing a glass of wine that Hannibal had picked out for you as your eyes studied the opera house. Hannibal was next to you, his body mare inches from yours but not close enough to allow contact. You watched people come up to Hannibal in greeting before quickly going away.

“As always you’re quite the topic.”

“I don’t know what you mean dear.”

“Don’t be modest Hannibal. It's clear these people admire you. They may even wish to be you.”

You caught sight of a girl making flirtatious eyes to Hannibal and couldn’t help but smirk.

“Or maybe be with you. Either way they consider you appealing.”

Hannibal watched you as you spoke, his eyes never leaving your frame. It was intriguing how observant you could be and how unseeing you were at the same time. It didn’t matter how many women tried to impress him, his eyes always found themselves glued to you. You always had his full attention.

Always.

It was beginning to become a problem.

Hannibal had been so focused on looking at you that he hadn’t noticed someone new had approached. It was only when Hannibal heard the familiar voice that he realized you two had company. The doctor watched Franklin greet you with a kiss on your hand. The sight itself made Hannibal clench his hands into fists. He tried to remind himself he was in the middle of a very crowded place. A place filled with people who knew him. Seeing him throw a punch at a patient would ruin his career. Still he’d never felt an urge to knock someone out so much in his life.

You were always a kind person. Very well mannered and aware of your words. So it shouldn’t surprise Hannibal when you kept conversing with Franklin, occasionally even laughing at his terrible jokes. Hannibal zeroed in his attention on your lips. He observed the way they wrapped around the rim of the glass as you took a sip of your drink. The drink he’d picked for you because he knew you pallet better than anyone.

It had occurred to Hannibal a few months back that he was growing interested in you in a not so friendly way. But it was only when Franklin asked for your number that he realized how deeply he was falling for you. He wanted you for himself. And he would make that happen.

You were starting to get annoyed. Franklin was a nice guy but it was clear he didn’t know how to take no for an answer. You could see the way he was subtly, at least in his eyes, trying to flirt with you. It’s safe to say you weren’t interested. Not that he seemed to be getting that message. A noise rang out into the room telling you all the intermission was coming to an end.

“Well look at that, time just flies when you’re having fun huh?”

You gave Franklin a weak smile .

“We should be going, Franklin. Our seats are at the top so we have to climb a lot of stairs.”

“Oh okay.”

“Maybe we'll see you at the next opera?”

God you hopped not.

“Actually I was wondering if I could get your number.”

You froze, a concerned smile plastered to your face. Gosh he really didn’t let up did he? In a moment of pure panic at the thought of having to deal with Franklin calling at all hours of the night you grabbed onto Hannibal's arm. The doctor's focus moved to where your delicate hands were wrapped around his forearm. You looked up at him with pleading eyes before turning back to Franklin.

“Actually I’m already spoken for.”

“Oh wow I didn’t….realize.”

“Yes well we are very much together so…. Yeah.”

And uncomfortable silence covered the three of you. You tried to think of something to say. Anything to get you away from here. Before you had time to come up with something Hannibal spoke.

“Come on dear. If we don’t hurry we might miss something.”

You let out a relieved breath as Hannibal moved his hand to wrap around your waist, guiding you away from Franklin. You kept your eyes forward as the two of you walked. It was only when you were out of Franklin's view that you started laughing. You braced yourself on your thighs as you laughed.

“Oh gosh. That was just dreadful. He was so-“

“Annoying.”

“Incredibly annoying! Honestly Hannibal I don't know how you can deal with being in a room with him for an hour.”

“Didn’t seem like you were having such a hard time.”

You lifted your head to look at the doctor with a curious expression. He was looking down at you with a look you rarely ever saw, at least not directed towards you. Hannibal Lecter was annoyed. And at you no less. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You seemed to be enjoying talking to him. Laughing at his jokes. Making small talk.”

“It's called manners, Hannibal. As far as I know you value them quite a lot.”

Hannibal stalked over to you causing you to take a step back. Your back hit the wall, making you gasp. Hannibal hovered over you, his eyes boring into your soul.

“Hannibal what are you-“

“Did you enjoy his attention? Did you like the way he was looking at you? He was staring so hard I was surprised his eyes didn’t pop out of their sockets.”

“What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“Into me? Weren’t you the one who was just clinging onto my body like I was your savior?”

You’d never seen Hannibal like this. For the first time since you knew him he looked like an animal. His usually neat hair was slightly flopping over his face and the expert calm facade he always had seemed to have slipped. He looked like a predator and you were his prey. You lifted your hand so that you could touch his arm. He looked at your hand on his frame. It was as if your touch was burning him. He needed to feel you but he was afraid of what that would mean. You whispered his name causing him to face you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted as you breathed.

He hadn’t even realized he was boxing you into the wall with his body until he felt the heat that radiated from you. He couldn’t think straight with you so near him but he couldn’t bear to be far from you either. It was then that he realized just how much he craved you. He felt like a lion who’d been starved for days and had finally been given a piece of steak.

He was going to devour you.

Without a second thought Hannibal shoved his lips against yours. Your body reacted immediately, hand moving to wrap around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Hannibal moved his hand to your leg, hitching it up. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers skimmed over your skin. He enjoyed the sounds you made as he pushed your underwear to the side. His fingers moved over your pussy and he couldn’t help but groan as he felt how wet you were. Your nails dug into his blazer as he inserted one of his digits into you. Your back rubbed against the wall as he continued to bully his fingers into your cunt. A moan slipped through your lips before you managed to cover your mouth, the realization that anyone could just walk by and see you finally becoming clear.

“Hannibal we-“

“Shhh I’m trying to enjoy the opera.”

You could hear the opera singer belting out a note from afar. The sound was dulled by the heavy doors but you could still make it out. Hannibal hummed the song as he continued to finger you. You were trying to keep as quiet as possible but he wasn’t making it easy on you. He knew exactly what to do to have you screaming out for him.

“Hannibal please, I'm so close.”

“Oh yeah? Think you deserve it?”

“Yes please. Please make me cum.”

“Even after flirting with Franklin in front of me?”

This little shit.

“Hannibal please…. I’m sorry.”

“Who do you belong to hum?”

“You.”

“Speak up dear, I can't hear you.”

“You Hannibal! I belong to you!”

“That's right. Go on then. Cum on my fingers.”

You hid your face in the crook of Hannibal's neck as a silent moan ripped through your body. He felt your teeth graze his collar bone through his shirt as your mouth opened in pleasure making him smirk. Your juices continued to coat his fingers as he attempted to help you through your high. Your body shook against him, your limbs spasming as you tried to regain control of your brain. You knew Hannibal's knowledge of the human body made him good at many things but you never stopped to contemplate the effect his expertise would have on a more sexual context.

Once you’d come back down to earth you pushed your body off of Hannibals allowing you to look into his eyes. You continued to breathe heavily as you looked at him trying to figure out what would happen next. You hadn't expected him to lean down and kiss your lips but you welcomed the action. You warped your arms around his neck tugging him even closer to you. Hannibal's hands made their way to your hips squeezing lightly at your flesh. You bite into his bottom lip as his mouth moved away from yours. You couldn’t help the giggle that made its way out of your lips.

Hannibal grinned down at you, his thumb caressing your hip bone as he continued to observe you. Your hair was covering your face and your lips were swollen from kissing him. Hannibal didn’t look much better, his pupils were dilated and his heart was hammering in chest. You noticed the wild look in his eyes and in a sudden burst of confidence you decided to move your leg up against Hannibal's body. His eyes darted to your leg before moving back to your face. You bite into your lip, your fingers moving to tug at the small hairs on the back of Hannibal's head. You watched his brows furrow a bit at the action. “You gonna fuck me Doctor lector?”

“What makes you say that?”

“The look on your face.”

“And what look would that be?”

“The look of a man who is about to turn into an animal.”

Hannibal's expression faltered slightly at your comment. He wondered from a moment if you’d understand him if he told you what he was capable of. He wondered if your eyes would widen in fear or if they would simply spike up in curiosity. You placed your palm on his cheek causing him to focus on you once more.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m starved.”

Hannibal gave you a wolfish grin as his hand made its way to your ass. You gasped as he pushed your body up, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. You steady yourself on his shoulders waiting to see what he would do. Hannibal tugged your dress up your legs allowing him to view your underwear. He moved his hand to his pants tugging at the zipper. You watched him in anticipation, eyes widening as he pulled his dick from its confines. You whined as he pushed your underwear to the side, positioning himself near your entrance. A gasp left your lips as he pushed into you. Your nails dug into his blazer. Hannibal braced one hand on the wall as he began to pistol into you.

Your moans filled his ears as he continued to brutally fuck into you. The sound of you combined with the sounds of the opera far away were like music to his ears. He wondered why he’d never thought of doing this before. You’d been to his home many times it wouldn’t have been hard to get you into his bed but he supposed this was nice too. He felt a rush move through his body at the thought of someone walking in on the two of you. He wished it would be Franklin, the need to show his patient that you belonged to him becoming overwhelming. His head moved to your neck, tongue moving against the soft skin before he sunk his teeth into you. Your walls clenched around him at the action causing him to let out a grunt.

“Hannibal-ah ugh ah shit- don’t stop.”

He was never going to stop. He’d feast on your body for as long as he could, in every way he knew how. He would never be satiated with the feeling of you. There was no going back now Hannibal would have to make you entirely his.

He continues to nibble at your skin, desperately trying to mark you as much as he can. He wants to scare off any other suitors but he also enjoys the thought of you walking around covered in marks he’s given you. Mine, he thinks, this one is all mine. You're clenching around his dick like a vice which tells him you’re getting closer to your release. He wants you to beg for it, wants you to ask him to cum. It seems you can read his mind because without him even opening his mouth you’re already whining for him, telling him how good he feels and how much you want to cum on his dick. So he lets you but not before filling you to the brim with his seed. He wants you so full off him that his cum starts to seep out. He wants you to smell like him so everyone else knows who you belong to.

You’re having a hard time getting your heart to calm down. Hannibals still holding onto your body, trying his best to keep you upright as his own legs threaten to buckle. Neither one of you speaks, opting to just share the space in silence for a moment. You hear muffled applause, the sound telling you that the opera has ended. You pull your dress down covering your body once again. Once you think you're decent your hands move to Hannibal now soft dick, stuffing it back in his pants for him. He doesn't move away from you as you straighten his tie or when you fix his hair for him. He lets you build his facade back up without any complaint. As you finish making sure he too is decent you place your hands on his chest.

“Can’t ruin your reputation, can we now Doctor Lecter?”

He smiles at you, his own hands moving to fix your messy hair. Then he moves to place a gentle kiss on your lips. It's a tender action which causes your heart to skip a beat. As the two of you share a loving kiss the doors of the opera open. People pile into the hall you and Hannibal are in, not one of them aware of what was happening a couple of minutes prior. You allow Hannibal to guide you into the crowd, his hand comfortably warping around your waist. You let your body curl into him.

“Let’s go home my dear. I’m dying for another meal.”

Something about the way he talks makes you think he isn’t talking about food.

#smut #smut fanfiction #smut tag #nbc hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal tv show #hannibal #hannibal lecter #mads mikkelsen x reader #mads mikkelsen smut #mads x reader #mads mikkleson #mads mikkelsen #hannibal nbc #hannibal smut #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you

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tashiberrie · 3 days

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✮ HEARTWORM ✮ tashi duncan x fem!reader

⋆💌⋆ TAGS - written with fem reader in mind, toxic relationship, reader is a lit student, angst, stanford era, no mention of tashi’s injury

wc- 763

You two had met during a tennis tournament in 2004. After a long and intense match between the two of you, Tashi Duncan had come out on top.

You were drawn to each other instantly, like two moths to a flame, each recognising the shadows in the other's eyes.

From the start, your relationship was a tempest. You were addicted to the intensity of your connection, the way you could read each other's minds with a glance, and the way your souls seemed to intertwine in a dance of passion and pain. Your love was all-consuming, burning brightly but always on the verge of destruction.

Tashi was volatile, her moods swinging wildly from euphoric highs to devastating lows. She played furiously, the swings of her racket reflecting the chaos within her. You found inspiration in her unpredictability, your writing becoming darker, more profound, as you delved into the depths of your tumultuous love.

But your passion often turned into rage. Fights erupted over trivial matters, your words cutting deep, leaving scars that never fully healed.

You would argue until dawn, your voices echoing through the dorm room, throwing accusations and regrets like daggers. But in the quiet moments after the storm, you would cling to each other desperately, unable to let go despite the pain. You were addicted to the drama, the heartbreak, and the brief moments of bliss that followed your reconciliations.

You tried to leave once, packing your bags and walking out the door, determined to escape the cycle of hurt. But you couldn't stay away. You found yourself drawn back to Tashi, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your love. She was your muse, your torment, your everything. And so, you returned, your heart heavy with the knowledge that your love was both your salvation and your destruction.

Tashi, too, tried to move on. She sought solace in her tennis, pouring her pain onto the court, hoping to exorcise the demons that haunted her. But every swing of her racket reminded her of you, of the way you looked at her as if she were the only person in the world. She was lost without you, adrift in a sea of loneliness and longing. And so, she called you, her voice trembling with desperation, begging you to come back.

You reunions were always bittersweet, filled with tears and whispered apologies. You would cling to each other, promising to change, to be better, but the cycle would inevitably repeat. Your love was a battlefield, each skirmish leaving you more battered and bruised, but neither of you could surrender. You were trapped in a toxic dance, unable to break free yet unable to truly be together.

As the years passed, the toll of your relationship began to show. Your once bright eyes grew dull with fatigue, and Tashi's vibrant spirit became shadowed with sorrow. You were like two stars on a collision course, destined to burn out in a blaze of tragic beauty. But even as you destroyed each other, you couldn't imagine life apart. Your love was a prison, but it was also the only thing that made you feel alive.

One night, Tashi and you found yourselves back at the tennis court where your had first met. The atmosphere was hauntingly familiar, the rackets’ mournful wail echoing the ache in your hearts. You played in silence, your souls intertwined, lost in your own thoughts.

Tashi broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we had never met?"

You looked at her, your eyes filled with a mixture of love and pain. "Every day," you admitted. "But then I remember that even if it's killing me, I can't imagine my life without you."

Tears welled in Tashi's eyes, and she squeezed the handle of her racket tighter. "I don't know how to let you go," she confessed, her voice breaking.

You walked over to her and pulled her into your arms, holding her as if you could keep the world at bay. "Maybe we don't have to," you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Maybe this is just who we are."

As you held each other, rain started to fall, a fitting soundtrack to your story. You were two souls entwined in a love that was as beautiful as it was destructive, unable to break free yet unable to truly be whole together. And so, you remained, locked in a tragic embrace, bound by a love that would forever be your greatest joy and your deepest sorrow.

#challengers #tashi duncan x reader #challengers x reader #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #challengers x fem!reader #it’s 3am #i don’t know if this makes sense

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cupidisaliar · 2 days

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Bound by infinity ♾️

Gojo x student reader

No warnings i guess. Let me know if there are any I should add. Second fic from a long ass hiatus of one post haha.

Sorcery training wrapped up, and you pack belongings and bid your peers farewell.

It was Panda's bright idea to have you and the rest of the first years run around the track, making you realize how out of shape you are.

It's hard work, you must admit—the whole sorcerer thing.

You navigate the familiar halls exhausted, heading to your dorm room, and unintentionally collide with your sensei, Gojo Satoru.

Unbeknownst to you, his technique, infinity, remains in place.

"Oops," you chuckle breathlessly. "Sorry! Bye, Sensei!" Your words accompany a slight bump, making him step slightly to the right. With an awkward smile, you turn to leave.

Gojo is in front of you again.

'Well, he can teleport…' you recall, 'and he's annoying.'

You look up, and although his blindfold remains around his eyes, he appears to be staring right at you. His eyes seem to pierce through the black cloth, through you. A slight chill crawls up your spine.

"…Are you okay, sensei?" you inquire.

Gojo doesn't move an inch, his gaze still on you. Neither of you says a word as the silence becomes deafening. A leaky faucet, a bird's chirp, and an unmoving Gojo suddenly become the focus of your attention.

After what feels like forever, a light smile graces his emotionless face.

"I'm just testing my infinity, that is all..." he finally speaks, a light smile still adorning his face.

You blink, "Okay, what about it?" You sigh, assuming he wants you to humour him; he always thinks he is funny.

"I was curious whether the effects of my infinity technique would be negated if a force bumped into me by accident." He says flatly.

"Doesn't it always?" you shrug.

The gears begin to turn in your head.

Doesn't it always…

"My infinity has always negated forces that approach it. Someone has never bumped into me... At least not that I am aware of." He crosses his arms.

You say nothing, and the words won't come out. They aren't even there.

'Did I just…'

After a moment, Gojo seems amused by something. "Well, let's keep it between us, and the rest of the school shall not know about this." He says with a slight chuckle.

Gojo smiles. "Don't worry about it, it doesn't affect me. And I won't say anything. But..." he pauses. "I am just curious... How did you get past my infinity?"

You shake your head. "I...I don’t-I don’t know…” You stammer.

"Well, I guess I'll keep my curiosity in check..." he chuckles again. "Have a good day, Y/N ."

He then proceeds to walk away.

'Should I also leave, or should I continue to the dorms? What should I do? Infinity? How does that work again?' Your thoughts dance and taunt you around as you watch your sensei leave.

You snap out of it when he's out of sight and run to your dorm. Exhausted from training and the interaction with Gojo.

'It all feels like a bad dream. Gojo Satoru is the strongest.' It was probably just a slip-up. His infinity wasn't up, and he assumed it was.

Changing into sleepwear, you are about to settle into bed when there is a knock at the door.

You open the door only to find Gojo sensei standing before you.

"I have a question for you," he says, walking in without waiting for an answer.

"Uhm..make yourself at home, I guess—"

Ignoring you, he walks to the center of your bedroom and looks at you.

"Why can you bypass my infinity technique? My curiosity got the best of me," he says, not blinking.

He's blinking? Oh..his blindfold is off. You notice it hanging around his neck. Blue eyes peer at you, and he seems eager for a reply.

"Sensei..." you start. I honestly have no idea."… I'm sorry," you say. It's all you can manage; a worried look plagues your face.

"It is alright; you don't need to worry." He smiles, almost in an odd manner. I just wanted to know how you managed to do it. But... if you don't know how you did it, then I am even more curious," he muses, walking over and leaning on your wall.

"Honestly, it was probably a one-time thing… maybe," you shrug, attempting to grasp a coherent sentence. "You're tired…maybe it wasn't even on—"

"Nah, It was definitely on," Gojo replies flatly. "But, I am still curious…" he says; he seems to peer at your soul without that blindfold.

"Do you want to try again?" You cut him off.

Gojo is silent, his eyes widened slightly. A small smile slowly comes across his face.

"Yes," he agrees, his eyes still glued to you.

You slowly reach your hand out, your palm outstretched.

Gojo looks back at your hand, then back at your eyes.

He steps away from the wall, still smiling. "So…you want to try this?" he questions, his tone serious.

"Yeah, is your infinity on?" You fail to hide your nervousness. Your voice shakes, as does your hand.

Gojo pauses for a moment to think about his answer. "It is, yes," he says without blinking as he watches you.

Your hand lingers in the air, shaking slightly as you wait for him to move. You take a deep breath, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth.

"You know what this technique is, right?" he asks, stepping closer to you. It means nothing can touch me, nothing can hurt me." He is so close to you.

"I know," you barely whisper.

Gojo lets us have an airy chuckle, breaking the tension in the room. His eyes seem so bright, brighter than ever.

You can't seem to see what's boiling underneath.

“Try it.” he challenges, his hand almost touching yours now, the other in his pocket.

You move your hand toward him, touching it effortlessly and going through his infinity.

Your hand is touching Gojo’s, and you keep your eyes glued to the back of your hands touching. You expected nothing to happen. It has always been an impenetrable technique, but for some reason, your hand is touching his during his infinity.

You hear Gojo gasp. “Incredible,” he whispers.

You swallow air, and your blood runs cold. Why do you have such a bad feeling about all of this?

Gojo looks straight at you. His eyes look curious as if he's studying you. “Can you pull your hand back?” he asks.

“Yeah..” You pull your hand back and put it back to your side.

“And nothing happened to you?” he asks, unblinking. “I feel fine, sensei.”

“I see..” he smiles, looking down at his hand. You wonder why he seems so giddy. Is he okay? You have to ask. “Gojo, are you–?”

He’s laughing. Laughter filled with joy and excitement.

“Sensei..” you try to talk to him.

Gojo is laughing joyously; you've never heard him laugh like this.

“Sensei, are you okay?”

“I've never seen anything like this... Y/n.. you can get past my infinity!” He beams. “You didn’t feel anything, did you?”

You shake your head. “N-no, I didn’t,” you mumble.

Gojo smiles. “Well, that settles it. It seems to me you have an immunity to infinity.”

He pauses for a moment, looking–no staring at you, like that would help him understand the reason behind all of this.

“I must say, I find you very interesting. I have never met anyone like you.” He comments, his unblinking eyes filled with fascination.

“What do you mean?” You question.

“Just as I said, it’s rare that I meet someone who can neutralize my technique. In all my years, I have never seen someone with that ability. It’s only been objects.”

You nod. You’re worried. You want to know what all this means. You look back up, and Gojo looks off to the side. You follow his gaze to a jewelry box in your room.

“Now then!” he clasps his hands together. “For now, this will remain our little secret..” You notice he speaks in a light-hearted tone now.

“..Until it is necessary to get more people to know.” He says, letting out a small chuckle.

“Why would they–” You start.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo says. You aren’t sure if he is reassuring you or himself. “It is simply because I know some people would definitely want their hands on that technique you have.

What a scary thought.

“But… we can cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, don't worry, my Y/N.

You almost miss it.

My Y/n?

You swallow… “Sensei, are you okay? I want to know because you are the strongest, but I can get past your technique.

“I am perfectly fine.” He replies sternly.

He notices your worried expression.

“I’m fine, Y/n. I know you are probably confused right now. This will all make sense in time.” He crosses his arms.

He walks towards you, towering over you.

“Now.. do not let any doubts creep into your mind,” he says, pulling his blindfold up. “You will be fine. Just leave everything to me.” You watch as he ties his hair up with it, and it obscures those piercing blue irises.

You nod. “Yeah,” you reply. Of course, you trust Gojo. You always have.

Always.

Gojo sensei smiles back, his expression filled with assurance. He knows you have doubts.

“Let me give you a piece of advice,” he says, dropping his hands. Now, he looks like how he usually does, hidden from the world.

“You seem very kind. In our world, sorcerers are not always the best people. But you…you have a kind heart. I can see that.”

“Do not let anyone change that. You hear me?” He adds, raising his voice slightly.

“I promise,” You reply.

“...Good…”

Gojo pats you on the shoulder. “I trust you. You can trust me?” He asks. You can’t tell whether it was a question or a statement. He sounds almost remorseful.

You feel a sadness brewing inside him, the calm before the storm. He’s troubled.

“Isn’t this so weird?” you blurt out; it's your attempt at lightening the mood.

Gojo smiles, seeming relieved.

“It is weird, isn’t it?” he replies in your light-hearted manner.

“It feels as though destiny crossed our paths. Maybe fate brought us together,” he says thoughtfully and slightly sad.

“Maybe it did.” You say.

He pats your back.

“Now, I have something to attend to. Come to me, and only me, if you need anything.” He says, walking to your door.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” He says, back still turned

He leaves, shutting the door.

He left his worry in the room with you; it’s suffocating. You feel like you can’t breathe.

That terrible feeling in your gut never went away.

You don’t think it ever will now

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x student reader #gojo x student #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #yandere gojo #gojo #gojo saturo

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empress-simps · 2 days

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Self-Destruct [One]

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader, Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Y/n Holstein tends to self-sabotage when something good happens, such as James Potter who came into her dark and dreary world like a ray of sunshine that she never knew she needed.

CW: Family pressure and hints of abuse by Walburga (3.1k words)

Note: The ending is cute guys don't worry! Welcome to the first chapter, enjoy!🫶🏻

The Burden of a Legacy

It was always like this.

You felt like your feet were planted to the ground; hearing your mother’s thundering voice inside your father’s study was the glue that kept you in your place as you stood outside the seemingly enormous dark oak door that separates you from them.

“Must I tell you again and again to be careful with your words, Ludwig?”

Callista thundered, her dark green dress swaying as she marched up in front of him.

Ludwig looked up from the documents he’s currently reading, his cold and emotionless gaze is a stark contrast to his wife’s fiery glare.

Taking a long drag from his cigarette, he replied, “You spoil her— coddling her too much. You give in to her every whim, which made her soft.”

You bit your lip, your stare almost burning a hole in the door. Feeling the all-too-familiar prickling sensation in your eyes, you tried to hold it in. After all you’ve done to prove yourself— to please him, it still wasn’t enough?

“She is just a child!” Callista scoffed, “Are you hearing yourself? That is your child-“she was interrupted by Ludwig.

“That is precisely why I do this for her, my love. It’s for her own good.” his eyes turned steely, “I am simply preparing her.”

“For what?! What is it that you must prepare her for just to excuse your behavior towards your own child?!” she yelled exasperatedly.

Ludwig paid no mind to his wife’s antics; he calmly sets his cigarette down the ash tray; the billowing smoke fills the air with a faint hint of tobacco.

“It may seem simple in your eyes, my love.” He starts, clearing his desk before clasping his hands together, “It is much more than her attending Hogwarts to have fun, make friends, or study— She’s already far off compared to her peers; Our child is gifted, destined for greatness.”

He nods to himself, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. “She is there to make connections— form new alliances.”

"She is just a child, yet you burden her with expectations that would weigh heavily on the shoulders of even the most seasoned wizard!" Callista cried out, her voice a mixture of despair and fury.

"You see her as an extension of us, an extension of the family legacy! Like she is a mere pawn in the chessboard of wizarding politics, but she is more than that, Ludwig. Y/n is more than just the heir of our house."

Ludwig stood, his height towering over Callista. “Yes, she is more, and that is why she must be strong. Our world is not kind to the weak, nor does it spare the naive. She must be ready to stand against the tides that would seek to sweep her away.”

Callista's eyes softened, "At what cost? Must our daughter grow up before her time, robbed of the joys that she should experience?" She saw how Ludwig falter, a rare glimpse of conflict was plastered on his face for a split second before turning impassive, yet again.

“The cost is high, indeed. But the cost of failure, of weakness, is far greater. She must not only survive; she must thrive. She must lead.”

The room fell silent, the tension hanging thick as the smoke from Ludwig’s cigarette. Callista knew her husband’s resolve was unyielding, but she also knew the love he has for their daughter. It was a love entangled in fear and hope, he wants their daughter to surpass him, to surpass everyone else.

In that silence, they both understood the burden that was placed upon their child, the only heir of their house. A burden of greatness, of expectations, and of a legacy that must be upheld. The path would be difficult, but it was the path they had chosen for her, and one day, she would have to walk it alone.

Dearest Sirius,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have already received my Hogwarts acceptance letter, I am assuming you also did, so congratulations. However, I still need to purchase a wand and other necessities, would you like to accompany me? Mother is also coming with us if you do wish to join.

I will be waiting for your reply.

Your friend,

Y/n Holstein

You set the parchment down and let it dry for a minute before folding it and have your family owl send it to 12 Grimmauld Place. Not long after, the owl came and was perched in your window, tapping the glass with its beak as a letter was tied to his foot.

“Oh, that’s quick…” You quickly untied the letter and gave the owl a treat and some pets before it flew away. Sitting at the foot of your bed, you ripped the wax seal open and read Sirius’ elegant handwriting— not that you would admit it, of course. His ego is higher than the Eiffel tower, it’s immeasurable.

My beautiful bride,

You are already aware how it is for me here, so why bother asking? Of course I would love to go with you! I have already informed mother and she surprisingly agreed, we will be there in the morning. Mother will accompany me through the Floo network to your manor. I cannot wait!

Your oh-so-loving future husband,

Sirius Orion Black

Your face scrunches in annoyance at the nickname; Sirius isn’t wrong though; you actually are betrothed to the Heir of the house of Black. Once both of you reach the mature age of seventeen, you are to be married to each other.

Carefully setting the letter down, you exited your room and searched for your mother in the vast gardens of your estate.

After a couple minutes of searching, you sighed. “Cinder?” Calling out, you heard a pop in front of you almost immediately.

“Young mistress?”

“Where is my mother, Cinder? I have to speak to her.”

“Mistress Holstein is in the gazebo.” Cinder replied, you hummed, “Alright. Thank you, Cinder.”

Just like that, the house elf nodded and disappeared with a pop.

You started to walk towards the gazebo, reaching it in under five minutes. As you neared, you noticed she wasn’t alone, she was conversing with Druella Black, Sirius’ aunt.

“My darling girl, care to join us for tea?” Your mother asks, greeting you with a smile. Smiling back, you replied, “It’s alright, mother. Good day, Mrs. Black.” Druella offered you a polite smile.

“Good day to you too, miss Holstein.”

Callista sets down her teacup down the table, placing her elegant perfectly in her lap as she raised an eyebrow at you, “Now now, it’s unlike you to join your poor mother for teatime. What seems to be the problem, my dear?”

You try to hide the blush on your face as you heard Druella chuckle quietly, “I just wanted to let you know that Sirius will come with us tomorrow.” Callista smiled, clapping her hands together. “That’s wonderful!”

“Going on a little date, perhaps?” Druella grinned, looking at you as she sipped her tea. Your cheeks turned a shade brighter, “We will shop for school requirements tomorrow, I don’t think dates will happen anytime soon.” Callista chuckled.

“You never know, they will be attending Hogwarts soon.”

“I’m sure that young Sirius is a refined gentleman, Walburga teaches her sons well.”

The air became heavy as Druella tried to hide her pursed lips, “Yes, she does.” she uttered before taking a long sip, which went unnoticed by your mother.

"Sirius." Walburga's voice thundered, going down the staircase with Regulus behind her.

Sirius' smile was wiped from his face as he stood up from the couch to greet his mother, his hair combed neatly to the side, and not a single speck of dust in his clothes.

"Mother." Sirius greeted, Walburga walked towards him with an unreadable expression before kneeling down his height and digging her fingers into his shoulders.

"You listen to me well, Sirius." She warned Sirius. He tried his absolute best not to whimper since he knows that the punishment will be worse. "If I ever heard you misbehave or do something that can tarnish the family name— you know what entails."

Regulus looked at his brother worriedly, twiddling his thumbs. He truly wanted to protect his brother, to stand between him and their mother but Sirius told him to not get in the way under any circumstances. Sirius cannot risk his brother being hurt by anyone— they need to get through him first.

Walburga didn’t wait for her son’s reply before practically pulling him beside her and flooing to the Holstein manor. Regulus looked, a small twinge of jealousy as they disappeared, wishing he could also escape this suffocating household for just a short while.

Callista chuckles, shaking her head lovingly as you practically looked at the fireplace of your manor every ten seconds.

“My my, is someone impatient?” She nears, making you widen your eyes and stiffen your body. Ah, caught red handed, weren’t you?

“I am simply just waiting for Lady Black and Sirius to arrive, mother.”

She gave you a knowing smile, “Hm is that so?”

“Yes, mother.” The blush on your face says otherwise, but your mother decided not to tease you any longer as the fireplace roared to reveal Walburga Black holding Sirius who looked excited.

You nearly jumped out of your seat, rushing over as Callista follows you behind, hiding a smile directed at you and Sirius as she greets Walburga.

“Lady Black, it is such a pleasure for you to allow Sirius to come with us.” You saw your mother offer a polite smile to the pale and beautiful woman in front of her.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Holstein. After all, our children will wed when they come of age, so it is ideal for him to spend time with his future wife.” Walburga hummed, turning to look at her child. “Isn’t that right, my darling?”

Sirius could only nod as his blush overtook his features, it took him a few seconds to actually utter out a response. “Yes, mother. Good morning, Lady Holstein.” He bowed in greeting, his stance is perfect, and his movements were fluid. He is one of the picture-perfect pureblood heirs in the wizarding world after all.

Callista smiles and greets him back, you took it as a sign to greet his mother too. “Good morning, Lady Black. Thank you for letting Sirius accompany me.” You curtsied.

Walburga hummed approvingly, observing you. “Good morning to you too, miss Holstein. Very well, I’m afraid I must go, Lady Holstein. My younger son, Regulus, might be looking for me.”

You didn’t miss the grimace Sirius did, Callista chuckled, oblivious to his reaction. “Ah, of course! I wouldn’t want to keep your child waiting.” Walburga smiles politely, shooting a discreet look in Sirius’ direction before walking towards the fireplace, the roaring flames engulfed her form and transport her back to their home.

“Look! Aren’t those the Holstein’s and Black’s heirs?” Someone gasped.

“Merlin, so it’s true then? They’ve arranged a marriage between those kids…”

“They’re powerful enough, why do they even need to marry each other?”

“You know how the Blacks are… and the Holsteins always wants the best.”

“Look how they’re holding hands! Quite rare to find young love in those pure bloods, eh?”

Whispers surrounded you as soon as you stepped foot into the streets of Diagon Alley. You can feel their eyes follow the three of you while walking beside your mother and Sirius. “Do not mind them, children.” Callista took yours and Sirius’ hands as you entered the first shop that marks the start of your shopping trip; Ollivanders.

The bell above the door of Ollivanders tinkles as you step inside. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood and magic. Your mother, sensing your nervousness, squeezed your hands in assurance.

The sound makes Mr. Ollivander stop and peer to the entrance of the shop as he was currently arranging boxes of wands. He widened his eyes in recognition and abandons his task at hand as he greets you and Sirius. “Ah, Ms. Holstein and Mr. Black! I must say, I’ve been waiting for you both.” He says, with a noticeable twinkle in his eyes.

You weren’t quite sure what to say, luckily, Callista conversed with the man. “Mr. Ollivander, lovely to see you.” She nods politely.

Ollivander quickly goes to his shelves full of wands and takes out two boxes, placing it on his desk and revealing two beautiful wands. He then gave a wand each for you and Sirius.

You gently held it in your hands, staring in wonder. The wand felt warm in your hand, seemingly tingling with magic that is waiting to be released by the right wizard. You bet Sirius’ expression’s the same as you heard him suck in a breath and admire the sleek fancy wand in his hand.

Ollivander grinned, “Well? Go on, give it a flick! You may go first, miss Holstein!” You bit your lip and flicked the wand pointing at the direction of a bookshelf. You watched it quiver, books falling down and opening, the books spewed out papers all over the place at a fast rate. It made you quickly place the wand at the table, and took a step back, near your mother and Sirius, cringing as you felt eyes on you.

Another mistake. Stupid girl, stupid Holstein.

“Oh my! Not the one apparently…” Ollivander murmured, flicking his wand to restore the bookshelf's original state. Sirius noticed your reaction and reached for your hand, squeezing it gently.

“No need to worry Miss Holstein! Happens all the time.” Ollivander shot you a kind smile before motioning Sirius to do the same. If you weren't so embarrassed, you would've let out a chuckle as Sirius sets the same bookshelf on fire. Merlin, the damn shelf must've been so traumatized already.

Ollivander hummed, flicking his wand as he willed the fire to disappear. "Hm, definitely not." He grabbed both wands and went to the back of his shop, mumbling to himself and picking out a few boxes for you and Sirius to try out.

After a few unsuccessful attempts from you and Sirius, (nearly blasted the windows of the shop and made one shelf collapse) you were finally presented with your wands— at least, what you'd like to think, you can't handle another embarrassing accident happening inside the shop. Just what will your father think?

"This might just be the one," Ollivander took out a wand from its box and placed it to your unsure and hesitant palms.

"Eleven inches, holly with a phoenix feather core. Quite a powerful one, if you ask me. Picky too, been sitting in my shop for a long time." He nods thoughtfully, mumbling as he studied you and the wand.

You gulped inaudibly, great— another chance for embarrassment.

Although, it wasn't like the previous wands you've tried. This feels... light? It also molds into your hand, as if it was exclusively made for you, strange.

You gave it a flick, expecting something to get destroyed, but you were pleasantly shocked as it illuminated a glow. Ollivander smiled in approval and Callista lets out a soft gasp.

"It seems that you were the witch the wand was waiting for all along." You felt immense pride as you admired the wand in all its beauty.

Sirius then tried his next, a sleek ebony wand. instead of it glowing, a sudden gust of wind out of nowhere suddenly danced around him, messing up some lf his wavy locks in the process.

"A match as well." Ollivander hums approvingly. Grinning, he takes the wands and proceeds to pack it.

"Fourteen galleons for the two wands." Ollivander smiled, Callista then proceeded to give the money before getting the wands and leaving the shop with you and Sirius in tow.

"Where to next, mother?" You asked, walking alongside her and trying to match her pace as you three navigated the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.

"Flourish and Blotts, my dears. You both have your lists, correct?" Callista asked as they neared the famous bookshop. Sirius replied, "I have them memorized, Lady Holstein."

Callista grins at him, patting his head. "Even better." You huffed, looking at Sirius who grinned at you teasingly. "Show off."

Upon entering, you were greeted with shelves upon shelves of parchment, quills, and spell books one might need in their education at Hogwarts. Sirius picked up a book titled “The Standard Book of Spells” while you grabbed “A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration.”

“Excited?” Sirius asks, his gray eyes locking onto yours. His cheeks flush, and you wonder if he’s thinking about more than just textbooks. "You can say that."

After successfully shopping for books, you all agreed to have lunch as it was already afternoon. Callista turned towards both of you, "Where would you like to eat, my dearests?"

You hummed, deep in thought as Sirius shuffled around a bit awkwardly. "Erm, mother don't usually let us eat outside our home, Lady Holstein." Callista raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Is that so?" She turned to look at you, it seems like you can't pick. "Well, how about I choose for today? Will that be alright?"

You both agreed, as you both followed Callista, you felt a random kid almost knock you over, luckily, Sirius was there to prevent you from an embarrassing fall. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you!" The boy apologized, picking up his fallen glasses beside your feet as you stared him down. It seemed like he's around your age and most probably shopping for school supplies as well. His face isn't that familiar to you, is he perhaps a half-blood or a muggleborn? "I suggest you get your glasses checked, it's quite alarming as you already have one on and is still having difficulties figuring out if you are walking towards a person or not." You replied, quite annoyed as you dusted off your clothes.

The boy frowned as he adjusted his glasses on his face and stood on his full height. It seems like he's almost the same height as Sirius, just a bit taller. "That's not nice." The urge to sneer was becoming more impossible to control. "Your body slamming into me isn't all that pleasant too."

Sirius frowned, looking at the two of you. "Come on, Y/n." He pulled you away, not wanting to get into any fights. "Your mother is waiting." You finally relented, looking at the corner of your eyes as you slowly walk away to see his gaze fixed on you before his mother calls out to him, effectively breaking the eye contact shared between both of you. What a weird and quite annoying encounter, like a jinx out of nowhere.

#james potter #james potter x y/n #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #james potter x reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #remus lupin

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bunny-pancake · 2 days

Text

The sun was setting over Amsterdam, casting a golden glow over the canals and historic buildings. You were standing in line at a quaint little café, your mind wandering as you waited for your order. As you reached the counter, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Hey, excuse me, but I think you dropped this," the voice said, holding out a sketchbook. You turned around to see Joost Klein, the musician whose songs had been the soundtrack to your life for the past few years. He wore a warm smile and his trademark beanie.

"Oh, thank you!" you said, taking the sketchbook from his hands, your fingers brushing briefly. "I didn't even realize I'd dropped it."

"No problem," Joost replied, glancing at the cover of your sketchbook. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

A bit shy, you nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

Joost flipped through the pages, his eyes widening with each sketch. "These are amazing! You have a real talent."

Blushing, you shrugged. "I love drawing, especially when I'm inspired by something. Your music helps with that."

Joost's eyes lit up. "Really? That's awesome to hear. You know, I've always believed that art in all its forms is interconnected. Music, drawing, writing—they all come from the same place in the heart."

You nodded, feeling a spark of connection. "I totally agree."

"Hey, since we seem to have a shared appreciation for art, would you like to join me for coffee?" he asked, gesturing to an empty table by the window. "I'd love to hear more about what inspires you."

Surprised but delighted, you agreed. The two of you sat by the window, the golden light casting a warm glow over the table. As you talked, you discovered that Joost was not only a talented musician but also a genuinely kind and thoughtful person. He listened intently as you shared stories about your life, your art, and the moments that had shaped you.

In return, Joost shared anecdotes from his tours, his creative process, and the ups and downs of his career. His eyes sparkled with passion as he spoke, and you found yourself completely captivated.

Hours passed without either of you noticing. The café began to empty, and the sky outside turned from gold to deep blue. Joost glanced at his watch and chuckled. "Wow, I guess we lost track of time."

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that you hadn't felt in a long time. "I guess we did

Joost leaned forward, his expression sincere. "I don't know about you, but I'd love to see more of your sketches. Maybe we can hang out again sometime?" Your heart skipped a beat. "I'd like that."

As you exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes, you couldn't help but feel that this was the beginning of something special. Joost waved as he walked away, and you clutched your sketchbook to your chest, a smile spreading across your face. The evening had been unexpected, but it had also been perfect.

And as you walked home under the starlit sky, you knew that this was only the start of your adventure with Joost Klein.

#joost klein #joost x reader #imagine #reader insert #fanfic

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zerokurokawa · 1 day

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can I request rindou going on a date with the reader and ran got to know and tells the whole tenjiku and they spy on them? basically it's a chaos and lastly rindou introduces the reader to them?? thank you if do. If not it's also fine!!!

Tenjiku Joins The Date | Rindou x Reader <3

Rindou had finally gotten the nerve to ask you, one of the most beautiful girls he had ever laid eyes on, out on a date. He had tried to keep it a secret from his brother, Ran, but that was nearly impossible since Ran liked to snoop through all of his messages.

He had planned to take you to this nice restaurant in Roppongi and out on a nice walk by all the fancy stores, maybe even buying you a few things just so he can show off his wads of cash he carried around.

You had gotten ready for the date and Rindou picked you up at your place. Wearing a cute, simple, white sundress with a corset top, Rindou wasn't able to keep his eyes off you.

The date was going perfect until you noticed people staring and following you. The same familiar faces you had just seen were not in front of you and you were starting to worry.

"Hey, uh, Rindou?" You looked at him, questionably as you were now done with dinner and were walking through one of the many fancy stores he wanted to take you to.

"Yes?" He turned to you and asked, putting the jacket he was looking at buying for himself back on the rack.

"Have you seen those guys before?" You asked, gesturing towards two Tenjiku guys who were wearing their normal clothes.

"Fucking Ran and Shion..." Rindou mumbled to himself as he grabbed your hand, trying to lead you away from the two staring guys. They started to snicker as you both walked in the opposite direction.

Soon enough, you found yourself in another store. You were paranoid at this point. You knew Rindou was involved with some sketchy people, but he promised to make it a point to keep you out of it. Once you turned around, you were face to face with another guy who had hair as white as snow and lilac eyes.

"I'm Izana, what's your name?" He smirked as he reached out to shake your hand. Another man stood behind him with a scar across his face, stoic and emotionless. He seemed like he didn't want to be there at all.

"I'm, uh..." You began as Rindou walked up with the two other guys from the other store. You turned around and immediately started questioning what was going on. Rindou spoke up, seemingly embarrassed as he knew what his brother had done.

"Y/n, this is my brother Ran and our stupid friends. Also, this is the leader of Tenjiku." He said, gesturing towards a grinning Izana. You were in awe, shocked even. Why had they been following you this entire time?

That's when they all started to laugh, but not Rindou, who didn't think it was funny.

"My brother thought it would be funny to join us on our date." Rindou said, looking down. Before could continue, they all started introducing themselves one by one.

"I'm y/n, Rindou's date." You said simply, a little taken back by the fact that you were now surrounded by gang members. Rindou kept apologizing and trying to pull you away, but the guys were having way too much fun to let this moment just slip away. Teasing Rindou was one of Ran's favorite past times and he wasn't about to just let you both walk off without embarrassing his little brother a little more.

"Hey Rindou, why don't we invite her to one of our meetings? Then, you can show her how tough you really are!" Ran exclaimed, laughing the entire time. You couldn't help but to let out a small giggle as Rindou's cheeks went red.

Finally, they decided to let you finish the date in peace.

"Y/n, I'm sorry about all of that. It won't happen again..." He trailed off as he took you by the hand.

"Ya know, I still had fun. Thanks for buying me dinner and a new purse. I love it..." You said, holding the purse close to your chest to show appreciation.

He smiled and just stared at you for a moment before you spoke up again.

"I also wouldn't mind attending a meeting or two. I'd like to see how you really are." You smiled. Rindou agreed to let you attend a meeting as he wanted to impress you further. Little did he know, he had already captured your heart.

(A/N: I hope you enjoy!! All the love <3)

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thegreenwolf · 2 days

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Howdy! I stumbled across a broken link to your WordPress blog where you mentioned your views on people who believe their religious/spiritual practices exempt them from wildlife laws. I'd be very interested to hear your thoughts, since this is a topic I have a hard time getting through to others about. If you don't have the time (or don't want to), don't sweat it! Have a wonderful day ^-^

@raspberrysquid Well, it's something I've primarily run into in the Pagan/etc. arena. These religions, as a general rule, are recently created, though they may seek to emulate older polytheisms to varying degrees. (There are also polytheist reconstructionists who do not consider themselves under the modern Pagan umbrella for varying reasons, FTR, but that's a whole other discussion I'm not going to get into here. The Venn diagram is complex, and not everyone fits under the Big Tent, so to speak.)

The attitude I seem to run into repeatedly is the idea that Neopagan religions should be on an equal par with indigenous American religions with regards to access to restricted items such as eagle or other migratory bird feathers. For example, Lady Suzy Bunnysnuggles picks up a red-tailed hawk feather that a bird molted, and decides that this must be a sign from [insert deity or other higher power here] that she must incorporate that animal's energy into her spiritual practice somehow, and so she takes it home.

Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with interpreting an encounter with an animal (or its shed bits) as being personally, spiritually profound. However, if Lady Suzy Bunnysnuggles is--like many of us Pagan folk--an American citizen of varying European origins or otherwise not in a federally enrolled* Native American tribe, she is breaking the Migratory Bird Treaty Act (MBTA) which prohibits the possession of almost all native wild bird parts, other than a few exceptions like turkeys. This law is in place because in the latter 19th and early 20th centuries bird populations in North America were being absolutely demolished for both restaurant tables and the feather trade. Since you can't really tell the difference between a feather that was naturally molted, and one that was torn off of a poached bird, the law has a blanket prohibition on possession regardless of origin.

There are some exceptions to the MBTA, and to the Bald and Golden Eagle Act, for federally enrolled people to have access to otherwise prohibited parts for religious or cultural use. However, people like Lady Suzy Bunnysnuggles, when informed of the laws, huff in indignation that they, too, should have religious exemptions, and that they are not, in fact, going to put that feather back where they found it. In fact, they may very well hang it from their rearview mirror or on a ritual staff, in blatant violation of the MBTA, and with the assumption that they will not run across a USFW law enforcement agent or other authority who is familiar with the laws. If pressed, they may claim "Oh, it's a TURKEY feather**!", but they're banking on the idea that no one is actually going to recognize what they have.

My thought on it, as a longtime Pagan of various European descent, is that it's my people who basically screwed up everything for everyone else by coming over here and overhunting species and systematically destroying their habitats. I've been working with hides, bones, and other remains in my practice for over a quarter of a century, and I am totally fine with staying within the confines of various laws. I have plenty of things I can legally work with, AND I am creative and flexible enough to come up with legal alternatives to prohibited items. My traditions are my own, and they don't pre-date me. Indigenous people, on the other hand, have been dealing with over 500 years of physical and cultural genocide, and the previous ban on their possession of eagle feathers and the like is just one more manifestation thereof; reversing that ban and making allowances for feathers/etc. for their spiritual and cultural practices is a TINY piece of trying to undo centuries of damage.

I am not going to try to argue that the erasure of European polytheistic traditions by Christianity many centuries ago affects me in the same way that the ongoing oppression of indigenous Americans affects them. They're not even comparable. Any problems I may have experienced as a relatively out Pagan in the United States are nowhere near in comparison to the immensity of 500+ years of active racism and other violence enacted upon Native American communities by both individuals and governmental entities.

Moreover, if we open exceptions to Neopagans and other followers of modern nature spirituality, then anyone can step up and say "Oh, hey, I'm a Wiccan/Druid/etc., can I have some eagle feathers?" that would then open up a greater demand for otherwise prohibited animal remains, and feed into a still-substantial black market. Therefore, I think it's best if I and Lady Suzy Bunnysnuggles simply find alternative ways to work with the archetypal spirit of Red-Tailed Hawk, rather than argue that our supposed religious oppression is somehow on par of that of indigenous Americans, and use their plight to try to weasel our way out of following a law that is in place to protect wildlife after other white people have demonstrated time and again that they couldn't be trusted to hunt wildlife at a sustainable level. Is it a case of some bad actors ruining things for everyone else? I mean, sure, maybe. But it's one of those things that I've long since made my peace with.

*This is with the understanding that there are also significant problems with federal recognition of some tribes, but not others, and the immense amount of bureaucratic bullshit a group of indigenous people have to wade through just to prove their legitimacy to the BIA.

**I once pointed out to a fellow vendor at an event that some of the feathers on their wares were, in fact, from various species of owl, because the last thing I want is for someone who is simply ignorant of the law to get in trouble, and generally speaking people are pretty cool about removing the illegal bits of their work and grateful that they met me before they met someone who could actually issue a ticket and/or cause trouble for the event runners. This person instead insisted repeatedly, both to me and to event staff, that they were turkey feathers, in such a manner that it was clear they knew what they were but was assuming we all played the "wink wink, nudge nudge, yeah, those sure are TURKEY feathers!" game. Needless to say, they had to take down anything made with owl feathers in order to stay in the vendors' row.

#raspberrysquid #Vulture Culture #feathers #taxidermy #dead things #oddities #curiosities #Pagan #Paganism #Paganblr #nature #wildlife #conservation #endangered species

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