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fleurhcss · 1 month

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✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝? – Han x FEM Reader!

cw : guitarist and singer, rockstar, semi public sex, concert, bfwb to lovers, little bit crazy, perm han, love your thighs

sw : choke kink, biting, oral (both), piv, unprotected sex, humping, blowjob, hair pulling, pet names, MDNI.

wc : 6.600 words

synopsis : You and Jisung have been friends since primary school. A unique friendship. He had a special personality, quirky, a bit manic in some ways. Whereas you were always shy and kept to yourself. You always supported him, even in his budding career as a rock star. You loved the way he held the stage. Unfortunately, this job deprived him of many of life's pleasures, such as sex. One day he made a suggestion which, despite your initial embarrassment, you did not refuse. You were also sexually frustrated because you had never found a man who met your standards. And Jisung was the perfect man. So you began to be best friends with benefits. One day he will start his performance with a new look that will drive you crazy and this will result in a long and hot sex session.

a/n : this is the third fic that I wrote here and I'm so happy to see that a lot of you really liked this plot so after some waitings here for you the full story !!! 🎀 Hope u enjoy this, let's see in the next one !!! 🤍🤍🥰

MASTERLIST

[ HARD SMUT ]

You and Jisung have always been best friends. You met him in primary school when you were just two kids. You still remember the afternoons you spent together eating snacks and helping him with his homework. He was truly a child full of surprises and talents, he could do anything and you followed him everywhere because you loved him. Jisung was a part of you, you shared everything with him. You were two completely different personalities: you were kind, calm, shy and quiet, and he was quirky, eccentric, talkative, who loved to be the centre of attention and show off his talents, but you knew that deep down he was a kind-hearted person, despite some of his peculiar behaviour that you could sometimes not understand. Jisung really was a personality in his own right. He was unique, and that was what made this friendship unique. No one was like Han Jisung. Like your best friend. And no one would ever be. Never. You were a part of each other and had made a promise to each other. Over time, even your different passions and paths had failed to separate you. You had a job that reflected your personality, a simple bartender and photographer, while he, with a brilliant personality, had become a big shot in music. A wonderful rock star. A lifestyle that perfectly reflected his: free, flamboyant, unique. Han Jisung was simply the rock itself.

Unfortunately, however, our duties often and willingly take us away from what is pleasurable. And indeed it did. Because of the time you spent between the café and the photo studio, you could rarely go out at night to find a man to take to bed. And the frustration was high; you felt the physical need to get laid like never before. To get rid of all the stress weighing on your shoulders. Jisung's situation was no different. With his life as a musician, between studio work and concerts scattered around the country or even on tour, he never had time to relax and indulge in his manly pleasures. He had always been a bit of a playboy in his high school days, you well remember him taking advantage of every party to get into bed with some girl. It was amazing how the next day he would tell you everything in detail and you would tease him about his performance in bed. He was so sweet and convincing when he told you about his talents in bed.

However, when he started to devote himself to music, everything changed. No more tales of strange performances in bed. On the contrary, he would tell you how frustrating it was not to be able to take anyone to bed because of lack of time and fame. If he was caught, he would surely end up in the middle of a scandal, and he was determined to avoid that. He hated having to apologise for indulging his pleasures. Also because you were aware of your best friend's strange habits in bed.

Yes, because Han Jisung loved to play strange bed games with anyone who came along. You were in eighth grade when he first told you about one of his crazy nights at a party. He had left bite marks all over the girl's body and had fucked her in a position that you weren't sure you fully understood when he described it to you. Even less did you think it was normal to prepare the girl with the neck of a wine bottle. But that was Jisung, as special in bed as he was in real life.

Sometimes you were afraid of what she might do when you were not around. He was a strange personality and you loved that about him.

Every once in a while, before he went off to the studio for rehearsals or the release of a new album, he would drop by to tell you about the latest happenings over a good cup of coffee. He remembered how you take it from your high school days and loved to bring you breakfast every morning and tell you about the previous day. It gave you the feeling that nothing had changed over the years. You and Jisung were still the same kids in primary school, fighting over which stickers to put under the desk to make it your own.

You loved this side of your friendship, you felt more and more connected to him in every way, it was as if the longer you went on, the more nothing changed. It warmed your heart and you were grateful. You followed him to every concert in the country, leaving the café under the leadership of your clique of friends. Occasionally you took the opportunity to travel and see his concerts around the world, and when you couldn't join him, he would call you and you would stay up all night. He would always send you videos of where he was going, full performances just for you. You were his privileged fan and he loved it all.

Whenever he came back from tour, you would find him at your door with two beers and two pizzas, ready to spend the next two days with you, telling you about his colourful life away from home while on tour. And you smiled broadly when he told you of his madness and when he held you close to him after months of not feeling the contact of your body and the scent of your skin, which he loved madly. You remember how many times he told you how much he loved your perfume, whether it was some new scent you had bought or the simple smell of your skin after a hot winter shower.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of having a Han Jisung as your friend, as your best friend. It was like having a holiday home all to yourself, only in this case the holiday was for life and nothing could change that fate. Not even his crazy ideas about you, or those strange illuminations he had at night, telling you to follow him through the streets at four in the morning, or to play in the playground.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was so strange to think about how you had ended up in that situation with Jisung. Him naked at your side, caressing your skin with his lips.

One day, you remember exactly when and how it happened, you were eating a good kebab, he was complaining about how frustrating his life was since he could no longer take anyone to bed with him. You were about to choke on your beer when the idea came out of his mouth. "Yes, we could help each other! You give me pleasure and I give you pleasure. It's a fair deal, see? So I can show you my talents, you who have heard so much about them for so long," he said excitedly, clapping his hands. Do you remember how you looked at him in shock, your cheeks almost burning? You almost didn't choke on your salad. You were embarrassed, you didn't think your best friend could think such things, with you too. With you. Did Jisung really want to fuck you? You were a bit afraid that it would ruin your friendship. But on the other hand I felt he was right, you were the only one he could go with and he was the only one you had time to spend with. It was an offer with merit, and in the end quite tempting. You were shy, but at the same time you didn't want to turn down the offer, after all Jisung was your best friend, what could go wrong that it wouldn't work out? after all, no man reflected your standards and Han Jisung was really the perfect man. Muscular body, slim waist and long legs. Strong arms, a beautiful face with a predatory look. Jisung was simply ethereal.

"Jisung, are you sure about what you are asking me?" you asked, still a little incredulous. "Of course, Princess. I trust no one but you, and among other things, your body is wonderful, you have gorgeous thighs, I would love to stick my face in them." He whispered in your ear, making you blush. You hadn't expected him to be like that. This boy was a constant surprise. He bit your neck, then took a sip of beer and blinked at you. He was going to drive you crazy, you were more than sure. No one could make you like him, it was amazing the power he had over you.

You sighed and looked at him, "All right, I'm in, but don't get any strange ideas Han". You continued to eat as a huge grin appeared on his face.

And when you saw him grinning, you knew it was over for you.

That's how you ended up where you were now, in Han Jisung's arms, naked in his bed. Secretly, perhaps not so secretly, you loved the way he drew strange patterns on your skin, the way he kissed you and branded your breasts. You were always at his mercy. You caressed his warm stomach skin as he almost massaged your shoulder with his eyes closed. You felt him move underneath you to reach for the water and take a sip before he kissed your hair and began to slide his hand down to your bottom, cupping it in his hands and letting out a giggle. He was amazing, that boy, he would never change.

He ran a hand up your back, cupping your neck from behind and letting the back of your neck tilt back, biting your lower lip and pulling it towards him as he massaged your buttocks. You loved the little touches he would give you after a long session of sex. Also because he had worn you out enough that night. You knew how crazy he was in bed, he always proved it to you, and this time he had only confirmed the theory. He had chosen to eat you, laying you on your stomach on the mattress and taking your legs, wrapping them around his neck as he teased your hole with two fingers. You loved it when he pulled at your pussy lips with his teeth, it drove you crazy the way he squeezed as if he wanted to pull them away from you. "What are you thinking about?" He distracted you from your thoughts, you giggled as you thought about him and what you had done in bed just before. "About you and your extraordinary sexual performance," you laughed and then planted a soft kiss on his lips. He patted your bottom as he burst out laughing and covered his face, then rubbed it and rested on his elbows. His chest was full of your marks, as were your breasts. He had enjoyed branding you that night.

"I have a concert tomorrow, are you coming? I will be wearing a new look and there will be a new song on the set list, I hope you like it, Princess." He smiled and then slipped under the covers and catapulted himself over your body, laughing and kissing your stomach. "Of course I'll come, Jisung. I could never miss a concert of yours. I'm curious too. What are you going to do? Will you come back with blue hair like in high school?" you scoffed. He knew how much you had loved that high school period; blue hair had been your favourite look.

He smiled and jumped out from under the covers, towering over your body, your naked intimacies colliding and making you moan. It was literally driving you crazy. "No, something sexier, I have a performance in store that will blow your mind and you will be in the VIP station with backstage access. I need my princess to recharge, in fact I'm feeling very tired right now, I need a healthy recharge." He grinned. And that sneer could only mean one thing with Han Jisung. Another round. This guy really never got tired when you went to bed. "You really are a lost cause, Han," you said, stroking his hair as he rested his chin on your belly. "And you adore me so much." He laughed, then reached between your legs and began to bite your thighs. He loved your thighs and told you so every time you fucked.

"You have no idea how much I love the taste of your skin under my lips." He whispered, still licking away traces of his cum that were present along your thighs. Another thing you loved about fucking was the fact that you were both clean, no protection and on the pill. So he would release inside you and you loved the feeling of the heat spreading inside you.

He kissed your intimacy and began to slowly run his tongue over it as he cupped your thighs. He took a bite and began to penetrate you with his tongue. He may have given you heaven on a silver platter. He squeezed your buttocks and continued to move his tongue inside you, nimbly moving his hot muscle which, on contact with your already hot walls, seemed to plunge into the hidden, fiery caves of the pleasure circle. He broke away to get some air and took the opportunity to bite one thigh and continue to leave marks all over it, again not stopping there but continuing up the thigh as well. "You cannot understand the desire I have for you. You are delicious. My favourite dessert." He slid two fingers together with his tongue to spread you as wide as possible, even though you were not tight because of the act he had already performed earlier; it wasn't your first time together but he wanted you to be not only comfortable but as pleasurable as possible. He didn't mind giving you pleasure vicariously, especially as he knew how much you enjoyed his actions. He began to move his fingers inside your opening, almost simulating the same movements as his tongue, only the latter went much deeper. From two fingers he went to three and he was sure that he had uncovered your sensitive spot because you moaned. And that could only make Jisung competitive. He started to hit that spot while he used his tongue to lubricate it, after all, no one forbid you to come several times in one night.

The more he looked at your naked body, the more Jisung blinked with eyes filled with lust. Caught in a burning passion that could only be stopped by satisfying it, the boy held your thighs tightly and pushed himself into you for the umpteenth time, almost exhausting you. So he was surprised when he saw you rise, but without a word he let you go to see how far you would go. And so he eased you down, laying on the back of your bed that had accommodated you until then, before moaning hoarsely as he fully felt your tight walls welcoming his member from head to toe, "Holy shit baby...you are so tight, how is it possible that I just fucked you."

He placed his veiny hands on your tight waist to help you move as uncontrollable moans and gasps escaped from both your lips. You were about to reach the climax, but it was too soon for him to stop this inexplicable pleasure; he would have gone on indefinitely just to hold you and fuck you. He smiled mischievously as he watched you gain confidence and begin to jump on his member faster and faster. You grabbed his neck, pulling his hair back, and he made you tighten your grip, looking at you with piercing eyes. "Don't be afraid to hurt me Mummy - do whatever you want to me. You have no idea how much you drive me crazy." He whispered convincingly as he moved closer to your ear before relaxing under your captivating touch. You loved having that effect on him. To see when you were fucking tired after long sessions without having to see him squeeze you into strange positions. Jisung was enchanting in everything he did, which drove you crazy.... You felt completely at his mercy.

You groaned when you felt him bite your shoulder and turned around to see the teeth marks on your shoulder.

He giggled in amusement and took your chin in one hand and kissed you hard while holding your side with the other, helping you to move faster and faster.

You grinned to yourself, especially when you saw how helpless Jisung was against your touch. "Please make me cum, you're so good, fuck Princess" he moaned into your ear.

Your tongues intertwined as you sought each other out. You sucked on the older man's as you rose and fell on his intimacy. You loved the feel of his hands gripping between your waist and buttocks; it was a sensation that went to your head. "Do you want to come? Who am I not to please you, baby?" You smiled amiably, but with a hint of mockery, not because you wanted to tease him, but because you wanted to provoke him further. You wrapped your hands around the young man's neck and pressed your now joined bodies closer together. You continued to thrust until you tightened around the young man's length and poured yourself onto him. But it was not over there, he had not yet come and you had regained your strength to finish there. You had to give him his endurance for the performance. You continued to move quickly on his member until you were close to his ear. "Why don't you fuck me, hard, use me, cum inside me". You were provoking him. And who was Han Jisung to deny you that? You pulled away and licked the line that connected the beginning of his jaw to his chin. You loved provoking him, it was his favourite part. Especially to see his reaction.

He took you by the neck and pulled you closer to his face, barely laughing at your words. "Oh, but baby doll, we're not done yet." As he spoke, he had brought his free hand to your intimacy to collect some of your moisture, which he immediately brought to his mouth, not taking his eyes off you for a moment, wanting to enjoy your expression as you realised he was tasting you. And that drove you crazy. You loved the look Jisung always reserved for you. He licked his fingers and then looked at you with a mocking grin, determined to take what was coming to him. His member ached from how hard it was and he didn't want to waste any more time, "Do you want me to use you, baby doll, mh? Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispered lasciviously in your ear before grabbing your waist again with both hands, squeezing you and holding you still as he had you lie back against the mattress and began to thrust hard and fast on your sensitive spot again. The uneven rhythm allowed Jisung to enjoy your screams as he picked up the pace after a short pause. It was like music to his ears, so much so that he soon found himself moaning along with you. "Fuck baby you are so tight. How I love this feeling." He whispered into your ear. You were crazy about this Jisung. You worshipped him. "Mh...fuck Jisung faster please, I could come again at any moment..."

The last thrusts were harder than the others, he poured himself completely into you, moaning your name in the climax, followed by you, now exhausted.

"You have no idea what I have in store for you tomorrow baby, it will be the most memorable fuck of your entire life. Even the walls will fucking know your name." He laughed, then bit your thigh.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It had been a tough day at work, you hadn't heard from your best friend and you were sure he was getting ready for the concert that would be this night. In fact, you had already planned your outfit for the evening: a black sheath dress over the thigh with a braid on the chest, a leather jacket and your beloved black knee-high boots. You had also thought of a make-up that would drive Jisung crazy and bring out the colours of your skin.

As soon as you got home, it didn't take you more than two minutes to catapult yourself into the shower and wash up. You were ready in no time, and when you looked in the mirror for the first time in months, you felt really pretty. Beautiful, in fact.

You were really curious about what Jisung had in store for you that night. He had been teasing you until he left your house the day before. He had said that he was going to change his look and you were sure that he was going to do something to his hair as it was the first thing that usually he would change. But you were also very curious about the song he was going to perform in preview this night, as it had not yet been released on any platform. You were sure he would come up with something sexy, as he usually did when he came up with these sudden things. You giggled to yourself. As you grabbed your last things and left the house, you had a smile on your face, happy and curious to see this new side of Jisung. You didn't even need a note, because by now your best friend's security and staff knew you well, not least because you had been caught making out in his dressing room a couple of times and Jisung had been forced to reveal everything to his manager, who had teased him about being desperate. You remember laughing at the look on Jisung's face at that moment.

When you arrived at the entrance to the park where the concert was to take place that night, you were greeted by the staff who escorted you to your reserved seat in the VIP box. Whenever Jisung gave a concert, you felt important just because you were accompanied by his bodyguards. You usually visited him before each concert, but this time you didn't want to spoil the surprise. You wanted to discover his much-vaunted new look at the same time as the performance. You bit your lower lip when the announcer started talking about Jisung and the concert as an introduction, and tugged at your lip fur when the first VCR started. Jisung was truly breathtaking; you had never seen a boy with such refined beauty. He had such delicate and sweet features, but at the same time he was so masculine. Every time you looked at him, you were amazed that his petite body was so well defined and muscular. He was just spectacular. Maybe he was the only guy you would want to fuck no matter who your best friend was. Jisung was the kind of guy you thought was perfect just the way he was. You wondered what he would be like as a boyfriend. But perhaps your mind began to fantasize too much about a hypothetical and almost unlikely relationship with him.

When Jisung appeared a few minutes later and greeted everyone with a big smile, the staff almost had to bring you a glass of water to get you back. It was his usual winking look, that look that drove you crazy, especially when he stuck out his tongue and raised his eyebrows. But it was not that that had particularly impressed you. It was the long-awaited "new look" he had to show off. Her hair was permed, it wasn't quite curly, but he'd waved it to set off his face. It was simply stunning. He wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black trousers that dangerously bandaged his toned legs, and his beloved ankle black boots. Not to mention the inexhaustible amount of jewellery he always wore. You could even see his gleaming nose and lip piercings from under the stage.

His eyes caught yours and he winked, and for the first time you actually blushed under his amused gaze. He licked his lips and craned his neck, then approached the microphone. "I want to dedicate this song to someone special. It's new, you've never heard it before, and I want to give you a sneak preview. It's called 'Don't Say'," he finished, picking up his electric guitar and starting to sing. Your lips were open, Jisung made you tremble when he sang, he was really born to be on stage. He had the air of a rock star. His movements, his voice. He was magnificent. You started to feel hot when he threw his knees over the edge of the stage to start a guitar solo. How crazy he made you when he played, he really made your head spin. With that tongue stuck between his teeth, that defiant look. And then that hair, that curly hair falling down over his face, it really drove you crazy. You felt that night that you could have let that boy do anything to you.

You imagined what it would be like to pull his hair like that, to have those curls trapped between your fingers, your fingers trapped in those curls. You bit your lower lip so hard that you felt blood coming out from too much force. You imagined Jisung on top of you, fucking you so hard that you went crazy, arching your back and rolling your eyes. He was the only one who could make you feel like that. You knew that. You had had enough experiences in your life and Jisung, your best friend, had been the best. Now you understood and mostly believed what he told you about his performance in bed, because you had experienced it yourself on your skin, on your body. Jisung could do it, and that drove you crazy. You would have wanted him all to yourself, all the time. Not just for simple fucks, although they weren't that at all. He would take care of you afterwards, spend time with you. You weren't just a one-night stand. Or just a one-night stand friend. Jisung was in love with you, and if you had only understood the way he looked at you, you would have realised it much sooner. He adored you so much. But just seeing him on stage with that erotic look on his face as he smoothly ran his fingers over the guitar strings made you realise how attractive he was even when he was doing normal things. You were crazy about him, and you realised it just by watching him play.

When he unbuttoned the first four buttons of his shirt during his speech, leaving only two, you squeezed your thighs because you were soaking wet. You were sure that Jisung would tease you even more if he saw you in that state. That was typical of him. He loved to see you under him, moaning and trembling at his touch. Well, how could you not when he reserved that feline look for you. Normally Jisung had such big eyes that he looked like Bambi, you always called him "Squirrel Boy" because of his cheeks or "Bambi Boy" because of his eyes. But when you were under him and he was fucking you, his look was that of a hungry panther who would not be easily sated by you. You were very sure of that. Also, because when you were in bed, the rounds were always three or two, you remember how he once lasted until dawn. It was one of your best fucks.

You returned the look he had reserved for you for a few moments, and you quickly realised that he wanted to take you backstage with him after the concert. You were a little scared after what happened last time, when you were caught. You thought he was a bit of an exhibitionist. Also because it was to be expected, given his personality.

His manager came to see you in person, rolling her eyes; she knew exactly what was coming, and maybe you did too. Jisung was a lost cause. You bit your lower lip again and made yourself comfortable on the small sofa in his dressing room while the manager asked for the door. "Please be discreet, don't make too much noise." She giggled, sending a trail of blush down your cheeks. You looked around and waited for your best friend to arrive, probably stuck at the meet and greet taking pictures with fans. All the more reason for you to be quiet. Or at least you were the one who had to keep a certain voice tone. Every time you fucked the morning after, you had to drink one of those hot herbal teas with honey. And that had always made Jisung sneer and boosted his ego.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

About half an hour after you arrived in his dressing room, the elder's slender, toned figure peeked through the door, his neck craned to one side with his customary wink. He watched you as he finally unbuttoned his shirt and pulled back his semi-curly hair.

He approached you slowly, as if to support the pace of a panther, as if to seduce you. It was an erotic vision. His unbuttoned shirt revealed his toned tan chest, the two nipple piercings reflected in the room as he licked his lips, playing with the piercing in them. You tightened your legs and lost your breath and he noticed it well. "So I see you enjoyed the show quite a bit, very much so my new look, did you?" He laughed as he spread your legs with one knee and rubbed it against your wet cunt. You were unable to respond, as if the cat had really eaten your tongue. In this case, the cat was him. "I can see that you enjoyed it very much. Look at you, princess, all wet just for me." He whispered on your lips and then began a ravenous kiss. He wanted to devour you and you gladly let him.

"You don't know how much, Jisung," you rested your head on the back of the sofa you were sitting on. "Oh, well, I really do notice it, Princess. But you have to be quiet until we reach my apartment, let me tease you a little now," he grinned and then lowered himself between your legs and began to take long bites of your thighs. He loved your thighs, he had told you so many times since you had become what you were at this moment: best friends with benefits. It seemed almost strange to say, but it was true. Although you thought of Jisung as something more than just friends. Who knows what he thought.

Your hands began to ruffle his hair, tugging at the curls at the base of his neck, noting how remarkably well his hair actually grew and how extremely beautiful it made him look. As he left marks and brands on your inner thigh, his curls wrapped around your fingers, you rolled them around your index finger and bit your lower lip. Jisung droves you crazy. When he stood up, you looked down at him, feeling his gaze go straight into your veins and especially between your legs, as the fabric of your panties was now completely wet. But he took advantage of this detail. Yes, he lowered his trousers and you thought he was going to fuck your mouth, but in fact he pulled out his already erect cock and spread your legs even wider and began to rub the length between your covered and wet folds. Now it was hard to hold back your moans. And to help you, he covered your mouth with his hand. His movements were fluid as he trapped his lip between your walls, simulating a fuck. "You're so wet princess, all for me. So warm. God, if only I could fuck you right now." He moaned as he pushed the tip between your pussy covered by the wet fabric of your panties. "MphfJis...I'm...about...to...come!" You said disjointedly because of his hand.

He took your chin with the hand that was covering your mouth and opened your mouth with two fingers, playing with your tongue as he fucked your walls again. "Me too baby, open your mouth." He said and began to fuck your mouth as his thumb made room under your panties and began to move quickly over your clit. This made you roll your eyes back and moan in a way that made his cock jerk. He was driving you crazy. This was going to be the best fuck of your life and you were sure of it.

After several thrusts he poured into the warm walls of your throat and you into your panties and onto his thumb. You almost bit his cock. "You did great baby." He said, leaving your lips to swallow and clean up the cum that dripped down your chin. You did, licking it off as he licked his thumb and lowered himself between your thighs to lick off your humour and rip off your panties. "We won't be needing these anymore." He laughed and threw them into the trash. You almost screamed, you were still very sensitive down there. "You're crazy Han Jisung, you know they can hear us," you said, biting your lip. "Let them hear baby, you are mine and only I can fuck you like this." He whispered in your ear and then pulled you towards him. "Come on, let's go. We have a long night ahead of us Princess." He said, slapping your thighs and pulling on his jacket without putting his shirt back on.

He dragged you with him and left the room, shouting to his manager that he was going home. You were open-mouthed; you had never seen him so eager to fuck you. When you reached the car, all he did was squeeze your thigh as he stepped on the accelerator. Your legs were close together and the fact that you were not wearing panties allowed your vaginal lips to rub between them and wet the seat of Jisung's car. Perhaps a little too much, as the older man noticed and put his hand between your labia and began to rub them. "Jisung, please, I am too sensitive..." you begged him, but that did not stop him, for it only brought another grin to his face.

"Princess, that is not even the beginning."

Indeed he was right, for as soon as you arrived at the elder's house you were immediately thrown into bed and stripped of all your clothes. And now you found yourself naked beneath the still covered body of your best friend. And as he rubbed his covered knee over your naked intimacy, he began to undress until he too was naked in front of your eyes. He lowered himself onto your breasts and began to bite and suck on them, especially your sensitive nipples. Your legs were tight around his waist so that his erect intimacy rubbed against your already sensitive and wet cunt. In fact, as he bit your skin from your neck to your collarbone and your tits, you felt the tip of his cock pushing and rubbing between your walls. "I can feel you so fucking wet for me." He moaned into your ear as you gasped out unconnected words, including his name. "Jisung please fuck me, I can't stand it anymore."

"As you wish my princess." He sneered and then grabbed you by the throat, squeezing you almost to the point of suffocation, and thrust into you, immediately beginning to move with a force you did not believe he had. You moaned like never before and it drove you mad. The way he slapped and rubbed his cock between your walls. His hands slid gently over your hips, massaging and squeezing. It was wonderful, the feeling of your walls around him, around his member, the warmth that only your body could have given him. You squeezed again until his intimacy touched perhaps your inner and weakest part. His lips roamed over your bare skin, lingering here and there to leave marks, bites, kisses. Now and then he focused on your nipples, tormenting them, biting carefully, pulling with his teeth and then sucking. Again. His hands also came to cupping your buttocks, spreading them, massaging them, so to your hips and thighs. Then he began to give you more precise, powerful, almost violent thrusts . "You are fucking magnificent." He whispered in your ear, then bit your earlobe and went back to kissing that bare skin, long since unbleached. He was hungry, you were his favourite dish, his delicacy. If he could, he would have fed on your perfect body all the time.

At that moment, all you could think about was Jisung and how he made you feel by fucking you. For a moment you could not understand where you were. Your mind was clouded with bliss, heat enveloped your whole body like a thick cloud. You couldn't help but melt into the arms of the boy whose name you couldn't stop saying, thrust after thrust.

You dug your nails into the flesh of his arms that blocked your breath, seeking support as you felt your body slowly melt with pleasure, almost too overwhelming to bear. You clung to his lips; it was hard to pull away. You grinned mischievously and rested your hand on the boy's, enticing him to tighten his grip on your neck. You tried to get closer and closer to his body, this pathetic closeness was not enough for you, you wanted more, you felt the need to become one with him. You rested your forehead on his and began to move your pelvis against his.

He pulled away from your body, tightening his grip around your neck as you continued to moan his name. You were sure the older man's neighbours had heard all the times you had screamed his name. But you wanted more and more, you were greedy for his cock, you couldn't get enough of it and you just wanted to feel his hot cum dripping down your thighs. You were addicted to his cock. It was pleasurable to feel the sensation of his nails gripping your flesh, branding it and making it his. Your walls also tightened around his member from the stimulation and God, God only knows how much pleasure Jisung felt at that moment. You began to thrust more and more with your pelvis, helping him with the thrusts. The older man took both of your legs and decided to bring them to your chest so that he could thrust more accurately. To say that you had both become a moaning mess seemed a fairly obvious thing to say, as that had been the case. He lay down by your side, not getting out of you, now you were lying on your side, your legs against his chest as he fucked you, holding you tight from the waist as he knocked the air out of you. "Fuck you are so warm and tight even though I fucked you yesterday. You always welcome me so well, mhh, baby like this, hold me like this," he whispered in a hoarse, almost lazy moan in contrast to the thrusts he was giving you. By now your brain had been disconnected.

"I fucking want you all to myself forever. You are only mine, no one can ever fuck you like I can." He pushed even deeper. "I'm yours Jisung, you're the only man for me." you moaned as you grabbed his hair with one hand, the hair that had driven you crazy all night long, and pulled it, and with the other grabbed your clit, stimulating it. "And you, my only woman," he growled, then moved your hand away and began to move his fingers quickly to facilitate your orgasm.

"Princess... Mhh I'm about to fucking cum," he moaned into your ear and then gave precise strokes inside you. "Mhh ... Jis ... m...e to...oh ..." you cried out, only to come in warm spurts onto his hand and he cums into you. But he did not come out of you, rather he overpowered you and resumed his thrusts, overstimulating you as he rode out his orgasm. "Fuck your walls always so warm and welcoming to me, let's rock all night baby." He growled.

And so you fucked until dawn, rocking all night long.

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk @skzswife @weareapackofstrays @h0n3yj4y @ilychee08 @minnieprincess85 @palindrome969 @chartrucewhore @luvyev @jisunglyricist @notevenheretbh1 @chillichillicrabcrab23 @redstayrosie @hyunjinslefttoe @xxstrayland 🥰

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whereserpentswalk · 6 days

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People don't realize how liminal it is to be a time traveler. How you don't ever really feel like you're in the time you are. Even when you're in your own time, everything is off, your coat was something you bought in interwar France, the book you're reading on the train is from a bookstore you had to visit in Victorian London, even your necklace was given to you by a Neolithic shaman, from a culture the rest of the world can never know. You find yourself acting strange even when in the present, much less in the past you have to work in.

You remember meeting a eunuch in 10th century China, and having him be one of the only people smart and observant enough to realize you were from a diffrent time. You could talk honestly with him, though still you couldn't reveal too much about your time. And it was still so strange hearing him talk casually about work and mention plotting assassinations. You're not allowed to but you still visit him sometimes.

You remember that the few times you were allowed to tell someone everything it was tragic. You knew a young woman who lived in Pompeii, who you had gotten close to, a few days before she would inevitably die. On your last day there you looked into her eyes, knowing soon they'd be stone and ash, that the beauty of her hair would be washed away by burning magma. And you hugged her, and told her that you wanted her to be safe, and told her she was wonderful and that you wanted her to be comfortable and happy. And you let her tongue know the joy of 21st century chocolate, and her eyes see the beauty of animation, knowing she deserved to have those joys, knowing it wouldn't matter soon. And you hugged her the last time, and told her she deserved happiness. And when you left without taking her it was like you were killing her yourself.

You want to take home everyone you're attached to. There's a college student you befriended in eighteen fifties Boston. And you can't help but see him try to solve problems you know humanity is centuries away from solving. And you just want to tell him. And it's not just that, the way he talked about the books and plays he likes, his sense of humor. There's so many people you want him to meet.

You feel the same way about a young woman you met on a viking age longship. She tells stories to her fellow warriors and traders, stories that will never fully get written down, stories that she tells so uniquely and so well. She has so many great ideas. You want so dearly to take her to somewhere she can share her stories, or where she can take classes with other writers, where she can be somewhere safe instead of being out at sea. She'll talk about wanting to be able to do something, or meet people, and you know you're so close to being able to take her, but you never can, unless she accidently finds out way too much then you can't.

You remember the longship that you met that young storyteller on. You were there before, two years ago for you, ten years later for the people on it. The young woman who told you stories wasn't there ten years later, you had been told why then but you only realize now, her uncle, who ran the ship, had been one of the first people to convert to Christianity in his nation. He killed her, either for not converting or for sleeping with women, you're not sure, but he killed her, and bragged about it when you met him ten years later.

You talk to the storyteller on the longship, ask her about the myths you're there to ask her about, the myths that she loves to tell. You look into her eyes knowing it's probably less then a year until her uncle takes her life. You ask her if you think that those who die of murder go to Valhalla. She tells you she hopes not, she doesn't see Valhalla as a gift but as a duty, she hopes for herself to go to Hel, where she wouldn't have to fight anymore. You slip and admit you're talking about her, telling her that you hope that's where she goes when she's killed. You hope to yourself you'll be forced to take her to the twenty first century, you're tempted even to make it worse, you want to have ruined her enough to be able to save her.

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genshin-scenarios · 5 months

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pacts and their marks: demon au

Summary: Where you've accidentally summoned a demon (you’re an exorcist) and now you’re in a pact with them! They’re now your assistant of sorts, some more willing than others…

Characters: Venti, Xiao, Lyney, Wanderer

Content warnings: minor injury and blood (Xiao), mentions of fire and smoke with allusions to death (Lyney), mentions of death and human experimentation (Wanderer)

Generally speaking, Venti likes to float rather than walk if he can help it; he’s gotten the habit of flitting around your form often, hanging off your shoulders and clinging on to you absentmindedly. You might be more annoyed about it if it wasn’t for his voice as he greets you, light and deceptively soothing.

Venti’s music hypnotizes the heart. Whether it be singing or another instrument, he has the ability to convince any being, living or dead, to do as he wishes—so long as his melody isn’t overpowered by their strength of mind.

Honestly, sometimes you wonder if he’s testing the safety-precautions of your pact. You’re invulnerable to his powers thanks to it, but with the way he endears himself towards you, you wonder if his true motive was to steal your affections in another way.

He’s one of the rare demons that blend in with people well. You found him as a spirit living inside an antique lyre; while Venti says he was sleeping there for a lack of anything to do, you have a feeling that there’s another story behind his attachment to the item. He often uses it in battle—its strings glowing with an old magic that matches the shade of his eyes and braids.

You sometimes forget how deadly it is to lose one’s mind in the heat of a fight, when Venti’s lying next to you on the bed as he scrolls on your spare phone. Noticing your attention he peers up, twirling his hair—currently unbraided—between his fingers.

For how much he teases you about praising him, Venti’s never mentioned anything about playing his music to get rid of your nightmares. One time, when you were especially sick, you recall him singing a song in a language you didn’t recognise.

It was hauntingly beautiful, and so was the way he brushed his hand through your hair, too gentle compared to the demons you had to hunt down.

Xiao’s most unique feature had to be his wings; the same dark shade as his hair, dipped in streaks of teal.

During a quiet night, he’d told you they used to be white as snow and gilded with gold. But an angel that kills to protect is destined to fall from the clouds, shrouded by the ghosts of those they have slain.

You know there are others like him, but he says they’ve succumbed to corrosion. He is the only one left, and is one of the only demons you’ve met that hunt down their own species. In an effort to save him from his own corrosion, you’d made a pact with Xiao to link your life forces.

Despite how he’d told you to leave him, his spirit still reached for yours—towards any form of light and warmth it could meet. Xiao still finds the marks of the pact distasteful, however, always glancing at the dark patterns now etched into your skin. You tell him it’s more reassuring than not, now that you can summon him with a call of his name.

If there’s one word to describe his powers, it’s destructive in every form of the word. Xiao leaves the battlefield entirely demolished after a fight. Sometimes he struggles to control his strength, but it’s been getting easier to do so with your presence to balance his.

He prefers to throw himself in as the weapon. Which is why when you’re the one that gets injured this time around, all Xiao can do is panic. He holds you in his arms, frozen as he realizes he cannot help.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a serious wound. But after that, Xiao has been a lot more protective of you; almost hyper-aware.

“W—What are you doing, Xiao?” You flinch as he bites into your palm, drawing a small line of blood.

Xiao hums. “Did you know that even using your blood, I can only heal you a limited amount with our pact?” Another bite, this time with his fangs, frustrated. “Keep that in mind the next time you plan on getting hurt.” You’re lucky the hospital could treat you this time around.

All Lyney knows is that he was reborn in a fire. At the back of his mind, he’s searching for his siblings—though he’s not sure where they are.

Like smoke filling a room, Lyney’s able to create illusions that trick all the senses. At your first meeting, he’d tried this on you; only for one of your protective amulets to diffuse his powers, revealing a larger demon he’d been working with that’d been ready to devour you.

Suffice to say, Lyney was quick to switch sides once he noticed that you were winning. That, and the demon he was working with turned out to have lied about having a lead for him. After noticing your potential as a partner, he’d been quick to scout for your help.

He often uses his illusions to fool enemies into fighting one-another, redirecting their attention away—but after the pact, Lyney seems to lose his larger-than-life traits and falls into a casual routine with you. It makes you wonder if he’d been human before this, though sometimes he’s more cat-like than not.

If nothing else, he does like to put on a show when you’re faced with a battle. He makes your job easy, considering that your bond allows you to see past his illusions and maneuver around enemies, finding the perfect blind spots. Despite the oddity of your partnership, you start to enjoy the pattern of working with Lyney, from your smooth conversations to his smarts.

One thing that does throw him off however, is when a demon you were trying to exorcize attempts to form a pact with you. Not that you can’t have multiple pacts at once, but it’s the first time you’ve seen Lyney openly aggressive towards an enemy, striking it with a sharp bolt of flame that diffuses it long enough for you to dispose of it.

With the threat gone, Lyney was quick to check on you, looking for any traces the other demon might’ve left behind. He calms down once he finds nothing, eyes widening when he realizes your faces are only inches apart.

“I…” He looks like he’s about to apologize, but decides against it. “Please don’t make a pact with anyone else. I don’t want to feel like that ever again.”

When you first met, Wanderer had tried to turn you into a puppet.

It was his power, after all—to attach strings onto any form and take control of them. These strings could be cut off, but it would only take so long for him to attach them again.

Most people don’t survive their encounters with him, but you’d managed to trap him into a pact right before things went dire. Now you could restrain his actions to a certain extent, though Wanderer would always push against your control, keeping you on your guard.

Many coworkers have told you to simply be rid of him—but just as you’d tricked Wanderer into a pact with you, he’s since linked your heart with his soul. That is to say, if he was exorcized, you’d be going down with him.

It’s a small relief to learn that Wanderer could also puppeteer other demons, thus you put him to work on the field by your side, turning into an unwilling duo. He has a habit of not doing anything unless you make it a ‘command’, leaning closer with a challenge in his eyes even as an enemy charged at the both of you.

Then, with a snap of his fingers, they’d stop mid-air. As large as the pact's patterns are on your skin, you had to admit that Wanderer’s power was a deadly one.

You’ve always wondered why he had no reactions to injuries; no matter how serious, you’ve never seen Wanderer express pain. Much, much later into your partnership, you learn that he’s become numb to physical sensations a long time ago. And that him turning into a demon was a gift of reprieve more than not, as he’d destroyed and escaped from an experimental facility shortly after.

During a fight where you'd been affected by a tranquilising venom, Wanderer had been the one to save you; your eyes met briefly as you felt his strings take a hold of your form.

“Don't make me look bad now.” He'd said. “Just relax.”

With not much of a choice, you allowed him to guide your movements. Somehow, it does feel different compared to your first encounter with his powers. With a push and pull between the strings, you could almost say it felt like a dance.

Were Wanderer's movements always this graceful?

Preorders for my wanderer fanbook and genshin letters are open! If you liked this, consider checking out the purple link on my pinned post!

#genshin venti x reader #xiao x reader #lyney x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin reader insert #genshin writing #genshin x you #genshin headcanons #traveler wishes

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tallulah477 · 4 months

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Pretty, Pretty Panties

Kinkmas Day 3: Lingerie/Stockings

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Grinding (cause I can’t think of a better word for this?), Size Difference

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: I was trying to see if there was a specific word for this kind of sex act and Google decided to bring me hurtling back into the world of Urban Dictionary and y’all . . . Urban Dictionary is WILD

A/N 2: I have exactly zero other prompts prepped after this one so this is going to be exactly like Kinktober lmao

Summary: Lo’ak has always been intrigued by human items, but your panties may just be his favorite of them all.

Translations:

Tawtute - Human

Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader

Tewng - Loincloth

Yawne - Beloved

Lo’ak’s always been intrigued by human items.

It’s only natural - his father was a human, long before Eywa granted him a new life permanently in the body of his Avatar. He, himself, is undeniably part human. The hair on his brow bones and extra finger on both of his hands are features that can only ever come from one place, telling the story of his unique family lineage and the source of his low self-esteem during his teenage years.

He’s since grown out of the self-hatred his different traits brought upon him, learning to accept who he is and be proud of his differences despite where they come from. Besides, not all humans are bad. His grandmother had told them once that the humans that stayed behind on Pandora after the first war were all part Na’vi - not in looks, of course, but in soul. They are the ones who fought for peace, who heard the call of Eywa, even with their tiny, round tawtute ears, and earned their place amongst The People despite looking like the enemy.

His father was one of them, a long time ago, and he became Toruk Makto with his hairy eyebrows and extra fingered hands. It used to be suffocating, to be drowning under the shadow of such a successful man, always feeling like a disappointment, a failure, and never knowing if he was ever going to be half the man his father is. But things are different now. Lo’ak is older and wiser, and he can proudly say he feels honored to share in those similarities with such a great man.

Human DNA is in his veins, their technology now a staple in the Omatikaya Clan, introduced at the insistence of his father. Throat comms wrap around the necks of every hunter and warrior, tablets are used to help keep track and categorize supplies of both the clan’s reserves as well as the outpost’s inventory. Every warrior must go through vigorous gun training, learning how to handle the weapon, how to shoot and reload with military precision. The bad humans are gone now, with no sight of ever looking like they’re going to return, but the Olo’eyktan does not take chances, and he will not have his family run out of their home ever again.

Lo’ak knows it all, his long blue fingers fiddling with any piece of technology confidently. But it’s not just technology he’s interested in. He’s tried clothes before, stealing the largest t-shirt he could find from one of the science guys just to try it. It fit, but just barely, the material stretching across his lean shoulders a little too tightly and feeling way too constricting for his own taste, the bottom hem stopping about halfway down his torso. You laughed when you saw it, tears filling your eyes as you pointed at his midriff just barely able to gasp out the words ‘crop top’ through your full bodied laughter.

The shirt didn’t work for him, he was okay with that. He was curious, he tried, he learned - and that was that. He never really thought he would want to go around wearing tawtute clothing even if they would have fit him right.

You, on the other hand . . .

. . . well, those panties fit you perfectly.

It’s not like humans go out in their underwear, and Spider is the only human bold enough to regularly walk around in a tewng, so Lo’ak only finds out exactly what’s underneath those annoying layers of tawtute clothing when the two of you start fucking around. The chest covering, a ‘bra’ you called it, is completely unnecessary. There’s no need to cover up as much as humans do, and to hide such perfect tits in an uncomfortable wired cradle is a torture that he will never understand why someone would put themselves through, and, frankly, it’s a slight against Eywa to cover up such gifts.

The panties though? Yeah, they can stay. They look so much like a tewng, covering your most intimate parts like a privacy cover, only missing the front flap to make them identical in look. You have different ones - different colors, different textures, and different styles that show various levels of undress for your perfect ass.

Lo’ak loves them all, but currently, the one’s he’s fucking are his favorite.

It’s a tiny thing, like you, light pink with a cute little bow in the front, and the soft material feels like heaven on his cock as he glides through your wet folds.

You look so good underneath him, hair splayed out like a halo on your pillow as you gasp and whine every time the head of his cock slides over your clit, tiny hands fisting into the sheets for support as his own hands push your knees back against your chest to keep you spread open.

You’re still wearing your panties, and a part of him wants to growl in frustration and rip the delicate material from your body for not being able to have an unobscured visual of your puffy pussy. But you’re so wet, so so wet that the panties have all but become transparent with your slick, making them sticky and see through enough that he can see both the outline of your labia and his length as he rubs against you underneath it.

He shivers as he thrusts faster, the wetness of your arousal making the slip across your swollen clit all the more easy, and a growled moan escapes him as the wet sounds your pussy makes at the increased pace invade his ears. The tip of his cock is nudging against the wet fabric with each pass, the large bulge pushing the material away from your body with each thrust just from the sheer size of him. The underside of your panties is dragging against the length of his cock, working in unison with your silky pussy against the underside to tease him into insanity.

Your whines get louder, hips twisting in response to the never ending stimulation on the sensitive bundle of nerves, dripping hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. “Lo’ak, please,”

He hums at the sound of his name, his name, moaned in that beautiful voice of yours, eyes flicking up from the obscene view of where your bodies are meeting to your face. “Yes, yawne? What can I do for you?”

“P-please, fuck me,” You beg. Your legs are trembling in his hold, desperate to kick out and wrap around his hips to try and pull him in. “Please,”

“Hm,” He grins, sharp canines on display, glittering in the fluorescent lighting of your bedroom. “Does my pretty girl feel empty? Need some big Na’vi cock to fill you up?”

You nod, frantically, heat pooling in your cheeks as the coil in your belly tightens at the thought of his cock splitting you open. You want it so badly, want to feel his length push into you, want to experience it as it keeps pushing, filling you up more and more and feeling like it might never stop. You want to see that bulge currently working underneath the cover of your sticky panties in your stomach instead - want to watch it disappear as he pulls out only to reappear again when he thrusts back in, deeper and deeper as he fucks your cunt so good in a way you know only he ever could.

He wants that too, wants to feel what your gummy walls feel like wrapped around his cock. He knows the sight would just about kill him, to see your soaking hole stretch to its limits trying to take a cock that’s way too big for you. How suffocatingly tight you would feel, to finally be inside you (or at least as much inside as he can fit).

He can’t help it, he just wants to see what it looks like, and he stops the tortuous drag of his cock along your clit to slide down the length of your pussy. One of his hands let go of your thigh to pull your panties to the side, mouth watering at the sight of your soaked core and puffy clit now completely visible to his hungry gaze. His breathing is shaky when he presses the tip of his cock against your tight entrance, the head rubbing gently at the pulsing hole as you mewl underneath him.

“Lo,” You moan, back arching as you try to push your hips down further against him. “More,”

“More, huh?” Lo’ak groans, pressing just a little bit harder against you and watching as your entrance gives under the pressure, trying to stretch around him and welcome him in. “This slutty little pussy wants more? So greedy,”

Your wide eyes glisten with unshed tears, red rimmed and watery from the way he’s teasing you. He won’t push in, won’t give you anything more than the small presses of pressure against your sopping hole, just enough to get you to start to stretch around the tip only to snap back when the pressure releases. “Lo’ak, please!”

His fangs dig into his bottom lip, a soft growl echoing through the room as he steels himself to be strong. You’re not ready, he’s too big and he doesn’t want to hurt you. You gasp when he pushes against your entrance again, cock slipping against your wetness and running up your slit and across your clit roughly making you jump.

Lo’ak releases his hold on your panties, letting the soaked garment snap back in place over your cunt and his heated length.

“Can’t,” He grunts, once again beginning the agonizing stimulation of him sliding against your pussy. The soaked squelching sounds as his cock glides against your clit are obscene and wonderful, and your responding moans and whines sound even better as his ears flick to catch the sound. “Wanna fuck your pretty, pretty panties.”

Your hands latch onto Lo’ak’s wrists, nails digging into his skin as the coil in your belly tightens up more. The bite from your nails only intensifies the feeling, and Lo’ak can feel his own orgasm barreling towards him, and fuck, only you can make him feel like this without any penetration at all.

It’s all wet in your pretty panties, all wet and gooey, and your arousal soaks his cock so good as he rocks against your soft folds. The fabric of the panties are rubbing against the head of his cock with each thrust, the added sensation only adding to the intensity. And when you cum, back arched and whimpering his name as he slides against your clit over and over and over again, dripping hole clenching around nothing as your body shakes with pleasure, the sight sends him over the edge, too.

His orgasm hits him hard, ropes of pearly release painting your sensitive pussy and the inside of your pretty pink panties as he moans. Slowly, he pulls his cock out from underneath the fabric, letting the panties press back in place over your cunt with the sticky mess he left behind between you and the ruined material.

And you look so beautiful like that, so sexy as you lie there, panting and looking like you just got fucked within an inch of your life despite the fact that you didn’t even take his tip, let alone his entire cock. The pink panties are pretty, and you wear them so well.

But now he can’t help but wonder if you maybe have a pair in blue too.

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#Avatar12DaysofKinkmas #lo'ak smut #lo'ak x human reader #Lo’ak x female reader

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

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Jungkook

𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Best Behavior

Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.

Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, strangers to lovers/mates, mentions of folklore and traditions, modern fantasy, romance, human?Reader, Fluff, Courting, MC kinda wary of kook at first, but he's cute give him a chance pls

Additional Chapter Warnings: Steamy JK, Spicy reader, Horny fluff

Length: Short (because tumblr eats long drafts these days)

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Jungkook is.. unique.

You've been courted before- bit never truly like he's started to do it. While on the past and usually, you see dragonkin men run around trying to make it a spectacle to fuel their own status, Jungkook seems to make a spectacle out of it purely for you.

It's like he wants people to know who he's aiming for. Like he wants them to see. Like he's proud in his attempt at sweeping you off your feet-

Or bite your neck rather, in dragon terms.

And he's also very obviously trying to see how far he can push you, in a more.. well, intimate sense. He's clearly aware that he's an attractive guy, and at this point, you're not sure how you're supposed to handle that. It's not like it's a bad thing- you believe him in his words when he told you you could always tell him to back off if he became too much.

But you don't want him to back off. You've simply never received attention like that.

You're unaware that you're staring at the way he swings the axe time and time again to chop down the large logs of firewood, used later for cooking. It's hard to take your eyes off of him- the way his muscles move underneath his partially inked skin, giving you nothing but a mere idea of what he's capable of if given the chance to show it. It makes you wonder. What kind of lover is he? Is he a dominant guy, calling the shots and bending you to his will? Or is he simply all bark and no bite, no need for anything out of the ordinary? You don't know him- but you know guys who look like him.

And they're typically a disappointment, all their worth pushed into their looks and nothing else.

It's when he puts the heavy axe down and smirks impishly into your direction from beneath his hair, halfway tied up to keep it out of his face, that you realize he's noticed you watching him. Instantly you turn, walking away from his sight.

How embarrassing - but you won't let him get under your skin without fighting back.

He watches later on how you take a nap in the shade of the sun, dress having moved up to your thighs, wind occasionally giving him a glimpse of even more skin, like nature is teasing him. And it becomes worse when he notices the wyvern tooth necklace he'd given you resting on your chest- warmed up by your skin, a piece of him touching you where he'd like to have his hands as well.

And then you turn over, laying almost on your stomach, face on your arms-

An impish little grin sent his way, well aware that he's watching.

Jungkook takes the challenge as he licks his lip, walking closer to you before he sits down near where your bare leg is placed, close, but not touching. His eyes wander over your entire body for a second, before he leans back a little, crossing his arms, sleeves of his shirt barely containing the straining muscles.

"What do you want?" You mumble, voice a bit raspy from having actually slept, and his instincts to protect you in your state knock on the back of his mind.

"Nothing." He shrugs, chuckling at your slightly accusatory tone. "Just saw you had no one watching over you while you slept. Thought I'd take on the job." He offers, voice playful as he looks down to you.

"Hm, there's nothing to guard though." You tell him, noticing how you feel a bit more at ease around him for reasons you're not sure of.

"I can see a treasure right next to me, and treasures need to be kept safe." He tilts his head, making you roll your eyes.

"Your flirting is horrible." You say, playfully kicking against his thigh- though his hand wraps around your ankle, a firm grip with no strength, oddly enough. His thumb moves a little over your skin, eyes glimmering with something as they look at you intently. "And you're greedy, touching random treasure that's not yours." You tease.

"Yet." He smiles. He's got all chance to move his hands, trace your skin with his fingers and more, but he doesn't, and you don't know why that disappoints you a little.

"Make your move then." You challenge. "See where it gets you." You say, and his smile turns into a grin, head shaking at the way you verbally bite at him, trying to lure him out from his self-control. You're playing a game he's for sure happy to get lost in, instincts calling out to him to put you in your place and show his strength, offer you a taste of his worth and power over you. He wants to prove himself to your doubting mind, wants to give you evidence that he's aiming for a love raw and passionate, a future life where you can and should rely on him to protect and provide.

But he's not that easily bewitched, even by someone as tempting as you.

"Not yet." He simply grins, hand leaving your ankle to instead turn the pendant of the necklace he'd given you, knuckles faintly brushing over the softness of your cleavage for a second, before he stands up. Even just a fleeting graze of his fingers heats your skin up, turns the tips of your ears red as you fail to conceil the effect he has on you, and its clear that he feeds off of it.

"I want to play with you a little more." He simply teases, before leaving you alone again.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader

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bogkeep · 7 months

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it was always a strange dichotomy. every middle school classmate i had told me i'd be a millionaire when i grew up, a Famouse Artisté. it's easy enough to imagine as a teen, i suppose: skill equals fame equals money. i was doubtful about this prophecy, not because i wasn't confident in my ability to draw, but because it was hard to imagine a world where i'd be paid for it.

it was an ice breaker game at summer camp. horrible one, really - everyone in a group were given a character profile. now we had to imagine that it was the zombie apocalypse, and the helicopter to safety was two seats short and we had argue why we deserved a spot. the character i got was an asshole doctor of some kind. i don't remember if i argued my way into the helicopter or not, but i do remember the feeling that's been hanging over me my entire life - if the apocalypse happens right now, i have nothing to contribute.

there's something really painful about it. i have cultivated a skill for my whole life, i can make art and tell stories that are entirely unique to me, there is no way to get someone else to create in the exact same way i can, and yet - i've contributed more to capitalist society by sitting in an empty hotel reception for eight hours a day.

which made me develop anxiety, to boot.

i illustrated two children's books. they're some of my best work. the contract i signed was industry standard and the indie author who had hired me was incredibly kind... but even after stock sold out i had earnt little more than some pocket change.

in high school we had an outing to dig our own snow caves that we would spend the night in. in teams, thankfully. i have so little physical strength to speak of, most i could do to help was clear away the snow rubble and toss it outside. i know, i know, my classmates reassured me it was an important job to do, i was an invaluable member of the group, sure - but it's that feeling, you know?

what would my task be in the communist solarpunk commune?

a person cannot be useless. it's a human being. they just exist, no ifs and buts about it. one can only be useless in the eyes of an ableist, capitalist society that sees no value in being alive beyond production and profit.

sometimes i receive messages from internet strangers to tell me something i said - often several years ago - was helpful to them. maybe it was a throwaway comment on a forum. maybe it was replying to a question they could've googled the answer to. maybe it was an encouraging reply to someone's artwork. turns out it mattered to someone. huh.

of course you can learn new skills. i have learnt plenty over the years! i have also learnt that there are limitations to what i can do. that some of the obstacles i face are not in fact obstacles everyone faces. it's not that i can't break tasks into smaller steps, it's more that half of those steps are going to be "rinse your hands because you Touched a Thing and now you're going to have to touch Another Thing." i wonder if that's adding to my cognitive load or something.

i was never raised to be a man, so by all accounts i do not understand why i'm so haunted by the spectre of toxic masculinity - what would i do if i was a medieval peasant and a war broke out? what if i was in a pre-historic hunter gatherer society and i was expected to hunt? what if i was a humble farm boy discovering the sword of the chosen one and the world depended on my non-existing courage to face certain death?

look, it's stupid. these are not scenarios i will find myself in. besides, pre-historic humans depended on community and taking care of each other. that's how we survive.

i'm not useless and i decided to make peace with being useless anyway.

we're surrounded by digital clocks. we can't really escape them. do we need watchmakers? would they save me a spot in the zombie apocalypse helicopter? no, don't answer that. i'm just happy i found something that requires a light touch and an observant eye.

#too long for twitter #I AM NOT ASKING FOR ADVICE I AM JUST MUSING AND WRITING A BLOG POST FOR THE JOY OF WRITING BLOG POSTS #not mentioned: the bachelors degree in art history i took to procrastinate with my life.#i would love to work as an illustrator still. if the opportunity to do so comfortably comes along i will take it #but im also happy to pursue my passion in my free time as something that belongs to me #number one question im asked whenever i tell someone i go to watchmaker school is 'BUT DO YOU STILL DRAW??'#it's like asking if i still breathe. yes! i still do the thing that makes me feel alive #it's just. we live in a world that's hostile to Live Comfortably and Pursue Creative Passions at the same time #and a society that can be so largely dismissive of art sometimes; all the while consuming it en masse #ah you probably get it. you dont need me to tell you

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

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Dancing With the Devil | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @raincoffeeandfandoms ‘s 2.5k Follower Celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy Shelby arrives in London with one plan in mind, but quickly stumbles upon another when he meets (Y/N). After finding common ground, he makes the decision on which way to go in a rather unique fashion. A decision that leaves one person rather pleased and the other rather pissed.

Warnings: language, smoking, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 3613

A/N: it’s been a while since I’ve written Alfie, so I hope he makes sense and isn’t too ooc … I just had to include him in here for you, Flor!! I went with a ‘night’ theme of a party/event for this. Congrats on 2.5k - it’s so well deserved! I’m so grateful that you’re part of this community!

A/N 2: this idea was pulled from a book about the Gold Rush that I read; where a man and a woman went onto the dance floor to make a business deal so that they could do it out of earshot of another man that she was in competition with. I immediately thought of Tommy and Alfie and this came out of it. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Beautiful day out, isn't it, Mr. Solomons?" (Y/N) asked with a smug grin as she entered the man's office, walking in like she owned the place.

"Wouldn't know it," Alfie answered her, clasping his hands together and resting them on his stomach as he reclined back in his chair, "see some of us actually have work that they do...but you wouldn't know nothing about that, would ya? Always going around and getting into others' business without a fucking care in the world," he took the opportunity to throw a shot back at her after he clocked her smug nature.

If anything, his statement made her grow even more smug. "Ah but that's where I've got you beat, Alfie...I'm able to go around and get into other peoples' business because I've delegated my work to people whom I trust."

"You saying I don't have trust in my operation?" Alfie questioned her, his one eyebrow raised.

"I'm not saying anything," (Y/N) responded, holding her hands up in defense, "you're the one who brought it up," she reminded him.

"What're you here for then? Besides goin' about another one of your plans to annoy the piss out of me?" he posed another question, wanting to get on with this unscheduled meeting. He had another prospective partner coming in any moment now, and he couldn't risk that man walking in on this.

"I'm here because I wanted to let you know that there's going to be problems if your men keep crossing the line and running your product to my buyers," she said to him, her smug nature dropping like a flick of a switch as her expression went flat.

"Who my runners choose to go with the product is no choice of my own, you know that, doll...I merely give them the product to run," Alfie told her, speaking in a voice that showed her he didn't care about the situation she was in.

"That's bullshit, and you know it," she countered, a glare on her face, "you'd be down my throat about it if the places were flipped."

"Ahh but they aren't, are they?" he kept his careless tone, a grin teetering on his lips as he leaned forward in his chair.

(Y/N) couldn't help but grumble a few obscenities under her breath as she tried to keep herself calm. After a deep, steadying breath, she spoke as calmly as she could, "just tell your men to stop dealing with my buyers."

Alfie cracked another grin at her. He could see that she was trying to restrain herself, and he debated whether he should continue poking the bear or settling the score...for now, at least. A quick glance at the clock on the wall made him choose the latter. "I'll see what I can do..." he trailed off, his grin growing. He could play with her a little bit, right? "But as you know...determined men only listen to a certain extent."

"Make them listen to you, Solomons," she demanded, glaring at him in hopes that it'd make her point stick. She stared at him for a few more moments before breaking away and turning to leave his office.

"Good day, Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her as she left, a taunting tone laced into his voice.

She shook her head and kept walking, right past the taller worker who had curly, brown hair and a confused expression plastered on his face. He was probably confused by how she managed to enter the facility, but she didn't care. She was leaving it anyway.

Without a word, she made her way to the main doors and opened them. The sight in front of her stopped her in her tracks before she could begin walking to her headquarters. A man was leaning up against the wall, working on lighting a cigarette with a match. (Y/N) noticed his struggle in getting said match to light, so she fished the lighter she owned out of her purse and walked up to him.

"Need a light?" she asked him, making him look up; his face now finally visible from under the peaked cap he was wearing.

"Sure," he answered in a gruff voice, leaning in slightly to light his cigarette when she set the flame alight. He took a drag and blew the smoke away from her before sending her a silent thank you through a nod.

"You look like hell," she was unable to stop herself from commenting on his appearance. His right eye was bruised and red, and he had cuts on his cheek and chin.

"Feel like it too," he offered a passive response. (Y/N) wanted to ask how he'd received his injuries, but the question died in her throat when he spoke again, "you work here?"

She chortled at the question. "No," she said, shaking her head; laughing again at the thought of it, "I'd sooner die a thousand terrible deaths than I would work for that man."

The man she was talking to raised his eyebrows at her exaggerated statement. "Bad at business?"

"No, he's good in his own right..." (Y/N) trailed off, hating to admit the fact. It wasn't that Alfie was bad at business, he just did things...differently. "He has his own way of going about things. You can't ever fully trust him. He's willing to play any angle he can in order to get himself something out of the equation," she added a bit of a warning onto her statement. She almost kept on talking; wanting to grumble about how he was letting his men speak to her buyers, but she decided against looping this random man into her troubles.

"I'll make sure to remember that," the man nodded his head, his words making (Y/N) realize something.

"Are you...are you about to go in and meet with him?" she asked, jerking her thumb back in the doors' direction.

"I am," the man nodded again.

"You'll find nothing but trouble if you go and do business with that man," she warned him before adding in a pitch for herself, "you should come work with me instead."

"What if trouble's what I'm looking for?" the man asked, her quirking an eyebrow upwards.

"Then you might just find some with me as well," she answered, a grin tugging the right corner of her lips upwards.

The man chuckled at her witty statement. "Thomas Shelby," he then introduced himself, sticking his hand out between them.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)," she returned the greeting before accepting his handshake, "my offer’s serious," she told him, looking him in the eyes as she held onto his hand for a moment longer before dropping it and breaking their eye contact as she did so. "I'll let you get to your meeting now," she nodded her head towards the doors, and he nodded in response before the conversation ended and they went their respective ways.

All of the frustration that had been built up by the conversation she had with Alfie mere minutes ago had now dissipated thanks to the run in with this new man. Sure, he looked like he'd wound up on the wrong end of a fight, but he dressed well and was looking to do business. Better yet...he was looking to do business with Alfie Solomons.

(Y/N) didn't intend for her life to turn out this way. Her brother, James, was the person who started the operation she was currently the head of. What started off as a small-time business quickly climbed to international levels thanks to James' ideas and (Y/N)'s charm and quick-wittedness. While she didn't exactly lead the charge with her brother, she did play an instrumental part in the deals being made as well as the back end bookkeeping. She knew about every little detail.

This knowledge was good for her to have. Without it, she wouldn't have been able to transition into the lead role of the operation after her brother died as a result of a business deal that went sideways in America. She was left with no other choice...she wasn't going to let all of their hard work crumble. Now she ran a tight ship, making sure everything stayed orderly and worked in the way James used to expect it.

Alfie Solomons was a constant thorn in her side. Being that they were in the same line of business, and operating around the same area, they always seemed to clash. James wanted to work with him in the past; and had even gotten close to it, but Alfie's strategy of keeping every avenue open for himself ended in him screwing James over and advancing in a deal with Darby Sabini. Those two were, of course, at odds again...much like (Y/N) and Alfie were. They were always trying to find ways to one-up each other.

Which is why meeting Thomas Shelby - and making an impression on him before Aflie did - excited (Y/N). He could be the avenue that (Y/N) needed to get a leg ahead of the game in London. Now she just had to find a way to make him join her instead of the madman that he was about to have a conversation with.

She could have just barged her way back into the 'bakery', but no. She wanted to make sure that this move was well calculated.

——

"Thank you, Marcel," (Y/N) thanked her driver as he offered her his arm for an escort to the event's main doors.

"You're welcome, Miss. (Y/L/N)," he nodded before he stopped and let her walk through the doors on her own.

The music was already in full swing as she made her way into the event hall's main room. Tables were strewn about with drinks and food on either side and a large, open space designated for a dance floor was situated up by the band. (Y/N) glanced around the room, looking for familiar faces, before she decided to make her way over to the drinks for a flute of champagne.

She took a sip from it then as she looked around the room once more, trying to find the man she knew would be in attendance; despite the fact that he absolutely despised these types of events. After a few minutes of searching, she was able to pick him out. It wasn't that hard...he stuck out like a sore thumb, sitting at his table with an unamused look on his face while the other partygoers mingled around him.

A grin formed on her face as she began walking a straight line in his direction. She was halfway there when he noticed her, making him noticeably exhale a sigh. Seeing his reaction only made her grin grow. "I see that you still don't like these functions," she spoke first as she arrived at his table.

"I see you're still in the habit of attempting to converse with people who are uninterested," he quipped back, raising his eyebrows as he looked up at her, a disinterested look on his face.

"You stick out like a sore thumb here...who in their right mind would want to do business with you?" she couldn't help but carry on, taking every chance she could to throw a dig at him.

"See there...there's where you're wrong. You see, those who want to do business with me wouldn't be frolicking around this fucking dance floor," he told her, nodding to the dancing people to accentuate his point.

"And yet you've decided to still attend the event."

"Easy fucking business, is what this event is," he countered, making her scoff and shake her head.

"You've not conned me into working with you," she pointed out.

"There's good reason behind that, you know...yeah, maybe it's because I don't want to fucking work with you," Alfie suggested another way of looking at it.

"You seemed interested until Sabini showed up," (Y/N) didn't back down from the situation, "how is Darby, by the way?" a ghost of a grin formed on her face as she asked the question. Alfie pressed his lips together in a thin line at the mention of the man he once worked with. "You could have had it good with me, Alfie...but you decided to fuck all of that over by going into a deal with the Italians," she reminded him, a knowing smirk now present.

"I know you didn't come for fucking reminders, yeah, so what is it that you're here for, hmm?" Alfie decided to change the topic once he realized he was on the losing end of it.

"The same as everyone else," she answered, clasping her hands together behind her back as she turned to survey the crowd, "networking, building relationships...just general business," she continued, hoping to spot who she was looking for in the crowd. It took her a few moments, but she did and to her luck, he was looking at her as well. A slight grin formed on her face as it became evident he'd spotted her. "And I've invited someone," she said, watching as Tommy approached her. She waited until he was a few steps away, and clearly in Alfie's line of view, until she addressed him: "Tommy! I'm so glad you were able to make it!" she greeted him, a smile on her face.

"Thank you for the invite," Tommy said to (Y/N) before he turned his attention to the man sitting at the table, "good evening, Alfie," he greeted him with a nod.

"Yeah, it is," Alfie answered, shock still apparent in his face, "or rather it was...fuckin' hell, mate, she's got to you too?" he couldn't help but voice his surprise.

"I have," (Y/N) was able to answer before Tommy could, a smug smirk present on her face, "met him before you, actually...right after I left your building the other day."

"And you've decided to work with her?" Alfie posed a question to Tommy, "that meeting was a bunch of horseshit and a waste of my time then, wasn't it?"

"No, Alfie..." Tommy answered, shaking his head.

Alfie spoke again before Tommy had the chance to continue, "then why entertain her ideas, hmm? Because to me it looks like you've got your fucking mind made up," he pointed out, gesturing between the two of them.

"I came here to hear her side," Tommy explained his reason for being present.

"Go on then," Alfie responded, waving them off like he was some child that wasn't getting his way, "but let me make myself fucking clear first...you go on and work with her, it's fucking over. You've chosen that over what we've spoken about, there won't be another go of it when she decides to fuck you over," he explained to Tommy, his voice pointed and eyebrows raised.

I could be saying the same of you, (Y/N) wanted to say back to Alfie, but instead she bit on her cheek. It wasn't worth having another blow up in public...not when she was so sure that she had Tommy right where she wanted him. "Shall we go and talk, Tommy?" she asked the man standing across from her.

"Join me on the dance floor?" he responded to her question with one of his own, his hand extended to her. (Y/N) glanced down at it as a smirk formed on her face. Alfie must've been fuming inside watching this interaction go down. She loved it.

"I'd be happy to," she answered him, placing her hand in his so that he could lead her out to the floor. They assumed the appropriate position once they found an open space. (Y/N) didn't wait long to get into what they were meaning to talk about: "so I take it you've put some thought into what I've offered?" she asked him as they danced.

"I have," he nodded, his expression not explicitly giving anything away.

"And?" she asked him, her eyebrows raised.

"I'm interested," he gave another short reply. That didn't matter to (Y/N) though...even a nod would have told her exactly what she wanted to hear.

"You want to move forward with the deal?"

"Yes."

"Why do it out here?" she couldn't help but question.

"Figured I'd keep it under wraps for now...let you be the one who breaks the news," he gave her his reason before a grin formed on his face, "and I wanted to take the opportunity to share a dance with you," he admitted, his words making (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up.

"I've heard bad things about you, Mr. Shelby," she said to him, hoping that her reaction to his previous statement would stay hidden.

"Likewise," he countered with the same sentiment.

"You have?" she feigned surprise, "well I'd advise you not to believe them," she finished her statement, grinning at him.

"I think I'll make my own decisions about you...assuming I'd get to know you better," he told her, his grin matching hers.

"So long as you decide to work with me instead of Solomons, you can get to know me as well as you'd like," she said to him, her voice dipping into a sultry tone.

"Noted," he nodded, his eyes roving over her features.

The two continued to dance once the main section of their conversation was finished. (Y/N) couldn't deny that this man was handsome. She was attracted to the confident air that was present around him, and wanted nothing more than to be able to jump into, and get lost in, the oceans that were his blue eyes. Having him by her side could help her in more ways than one.

"Are you staying somewhere tonight?" she decided to ask the question that was burning in the back of her mind.

"I'm not," he answered, searching her eyes as he spoke, feeling pleased when he caught the knowing glint in them. He knew what she was getting at, and if he was being honest, he wanted that too.

"Maybe we should celebrate the start of what will be a successful business deal?" she suggested, the glint growing more apparent with each word she spoke.

"I like the sound of that," Tommy agreed with her.

The two decided to end their dance there, and separated to go and mix about the party for some more time while eagerly waiting for the ideal moment to exit the event together. Alfie was left to his own devices for the rest of the evening at the table he was occupying while his rival and the man he thought he'd be able to work with went off and celebrated the beginning of a partnership; one that may or may not have had a few more avenues of interest than the partnership that he was offering.

——

"You went and fucking did it then, mate...didn't you?" Alfie asked the man sitting across from him, trying to keep his anger to a minimum.

"What have I done?" Tommy asked for him to elaborate.

"You went and fucking danced with the devil, and you did it not thinking that I would notice," Alfie was happy to tell him exactly what had been done, "you've made the wrong move."

"I'm doing what's best for business," Tommy stayed brief, clocking the other man's anger, trying not to smirk at the fact that he so clearly was getting on Alfie’s nerves.

"Best for business..." Alfie grumbled under his breath, scoffing at the words, "you shouldn't trust a word that comes out of her mouth, mate," he gave a warning, sitting forward in his chair so that he could lean against the desk he was behind, "she'll fuck you over...take everything you own and then leave you behind before you knew what in the fuck even happened."

Tommy exhaled a slight snort at what Alfie said. He let the smirk teeter on his lips for a few silent seconds before he responded, "she's told me the same about you, Alfie. Said you'll play every angle in order to get something for yourself."

"Because that's what business fucking is! Now why would I go into a fucking deal without there being something in it for me? That's fucking preposterous thinking!" Alfie couldn't help but raise his voice.

Tommy stayed level-headed despite the man wanting to get a rise out of him. His grin grew even more knowing he was pushing the right buttons to a reaction. "So what she's said is right," he commented on the response Alfie gave.

"Well I guess it fucking is then, idn't it?" Alfie responded, his voice level again, "you'll see you've made the wrong decision, but there won't be nothin' left here to come back to."

"I'll take those chances," Tommy began as he stood up from his chair, "thank you for your time, Alfie," he said as he made his way to the door of the office, not even waiting for a response before he began to walk to the exit.

Alfie shook his head as he lifted his hat from it, setting it down on the desk before he clasped his hands together and rested his chin on top of them.

Although the fact that he just lost business irked him, he knew that nothing good could come from dancing with the devil. However, he wasn't sure if two devils dancing with each other would level the playing field and cancel each other out. Only time would tell of how things fared out in the end.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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beautysamour · 1 year

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Wrong destination | chapter one.

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Characters: most characters that were present in the series will be present here.

some oc’ will also be present in this story

Summary: You were a special type of grisha, some would even call you a saint. Manipulating time was your specialty, you were able to go forward and back, pause then continue time. But you were still considered weak in your family, all your family members after the time of the fold were weak compared to what your ancestors could do.

Your intention was to save your friend, and the only way to do it was to go back in time.

But you didn’t mean to go this far back.

—

warning/s: a description of death.

a/n: this will be a series! for anyone wondering, “modern” ravka is set during our current time. this’ll be a very plot heavy fanfic but it was also be very focused on the romance since it’s an x reader. and it’s nikolai. but yeah

enjoy!!! I’ll try to get chapter 2 out as soon as I can!

PRESENT DAY

“So how will I be able to tell when you stop time?”

“You won’t.”

“What? Well that shit’s lame.” Elijah exclaimed as you two continue to walk through the forest.

The two of you have been wondering through the forest since before sunrise on the look out for an old cabin. The night before, your family let it slip that there was a cabin in the forest your family lineage use to find refuge in from drüskelle, witch hunters, you were told they were called.

You were always interested in your grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great grandparents, your ancestors in general. You have a unique power, so unique that some people would classify you as a saint, and you wish your family now found as much interest in it as you so they could help you train with it.

“What’d you say the cabin looked like again?” Elijah was slightly behind you, loosing more and more interest by the second. You stopped walking abruptly and turned around ready to say a sarcastic remark, “It’s red and blue and has purple windows. What do you think a cabin looks like?” Elijah rolled his eyes at you before you turned around and began to walk again.

“K smart ass,” you throw back a middle finger at hearing his voice.

—

The sun was starting to set and you haven’t seen any signs of any cabins or even any ruins. To make things worse, the sky was now covered with gloomy clouds. It would start raining any minute.

“Eli,” you call out and stop walking to turn around to him again, “you can go back if you want, I’m going to keep looking.”

Elijah lets out an exhale, his straightened frame deflating, before walking up to you and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“You know I’d never leave you half way into a mission,” he gave you a lopsided smile to which you returned with your own smile, “you wouldn’t survive without me.” You let out a scoff out of affection and elbowed him on the side.

He lets go of you to wrap his arms around his stomach area, fake crying with a grin on his face. Suddenly he stops moving and a sullen expression falls on his face, a playful glare now being sent your way.

You both are silent for a few moments until the both of you convulse into a fit of laughter, momentarily forgetting about being all serious for the mission and indulging in each others humor.

—

“Y/N.”

You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you yawned before answering Elijah, “What’s up?”

Elijah pointed somewhere off into the distance, you followed the direction that he was pointing towards and was met with the view of shed, or rather, a cabin.

You broke out into a sprint, the weariness quickly dissipating, with Elijah just slightly behind you. You guys slowed to a stop as you reached the cabin, fortunately the door had no kind of lock on it. Elijah grabbed your wrist before you would fully push the door open.

“What’s wrong?” You glanced around the area again, worried that Elijah spotted someone near. When you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary you turned your head towards Elijah, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“I know this wasn’t exactly easy to find, but don’t you feel…suspicious of something?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, no, nothing felt off to you. Maybe it was because this was your ancestors safe haven, but you felt an immediate sensation of comfort when you saw the cabin.

“No, maybe it’s because it’s nighttime, so you’re scared,” you teased but Elijah didn’t indulge in your humorous moment. He stared into your eyes with a sort of worry and determination in his eyes that confused you. Elijah never got worried.

Regretting your choice of your words, you grab onto his hand with your other that wasn’t near the door, “If anything happens, I’ll go back in time.” He relaxed the muscles in his face that he was clenching and softened his gaze, “I’d really prefer if nothing bad happened in the first place.” He slid his hand out of your grasp as he let go of your wrist, waiting for you to completely open the door.

The interior that greeted you as you opened the door wasn’t that different from what you imagined, in fact you’re pretty sure you’ve seen it in one of your dreams. The floor creaked as you stepped inside of the cabin, the floor had dust resting on top of it and the ceiling was made out of stone just as the walls. It was only the floor that was made out of wood.

It was bigger than you imagined, there were two staircases leading to the second and third floor and a table with six chairs around it was settled in the middle of the cabin. At the top of the third floor, you could see a big grandfather clock sitting at the back. You turn around expecting to see Elijah right behind you, but he was still at the front door.

“Eli, come in,” you gestured for him to follow, “I can’t,” he replied, his back straighter than ever, now on full alert. “I think we should go-“

As if on cue, an axe flew behind Elijah, barely missing him as it took a piece of his shirt with it. You two immediately make eye contact with widened eyes, mutually agreeing to start running.

Elijah was slightly in front of you as you two ran through the woods, yells that sounded like war screams could be heard behind you.

“Drüskelle? I thought they all died out,” you said through ragged breaths.

“Yeah, me too. Apparently we were wrong,” Elijah jerked his body backwards and aggressively gestured you to move to the side. Once you got out of his way, he brought both of his arms up and moved them in a downward motion, successfully grasping the hearts of the drüskelle, buying both some extra time.

“Hey, you might wanna do your thing?” Elijah said as he caught up with you, “actually don’t, it’s not needed.” He gave you a smug grin before focusing his eyes on the path ahead of you two.

You allowed yourself to let out a chuckle, thinking that you both were somewhat in a better situation and that you’d have a few minutes before the drüskelle caught up.

You were wrong.

Not even five feet later, another axe flies past your eyes, you follow it and your knees buckle causing you to fall forward at seeing the sight next to you.

The axe connected with Elijah’ neck.

His once whole body now in two, with his head separated from the rest.

A scream immediately leaves your mouth and your hand flew up to cover it, attempting to muffle your cries.

Now hearing the voices of drüskelle coming closer, you close your eyes and try to focus. Whispers of self comfort escape you as you try to calm yourself down. The sound of heavy footsteps got closer and the voices raised in volume.

You take a deep breath in and hold it trying to calm your breathing, and before a drüskelle was able to fully reach you, you move your arms in a circular motion; following the silhouette of a clock.

And finally, you feel a breeze hit you and silence takes over.

THE PAST

When you opened your eyes you found yourself laying on the middle of the ground in some sort of cabin. Confused to where you were at, both in time and physically, you turned to your left and saw a clock. Specifically the clock you found in your family’-if you could even call it yours-safe haven.

“What the fuck…” you pushed yourself up now sitting upright and moved your arms in a circular motion again assuming that you went back to the wrong time as there was no dust on the floor.

Nothing happened, there was no breeze, no silence, just the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and the birds chirping. You moved your arms again. And again. And again.

It wasn’t working. You couldn’t go forward in time, or pause it, or even go further back. You were stuck.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you start to panic, you couldn’t get back home, and you couldn’t save Eli. You were stuck. You were stuck.

You jerk your head towards the front door when you hear it open and jerk backwards when you hear two voices come through the door. You couldn’t hear everything they were saying but you caught one word they were saying a lot, tortoise. You decided that didn’t matter when you heard one of them start to come up the stairs.

Luckily, the other called them back before they could fully go upstairs. You heard a few clicks coming from the direction of the door and then a soft thud, the footsteps and voices now gone.

A few moments passes before you felt comfortable moving forward again. There was no one on the bottom floor-but there was some food.

As you push yourself up on your feet, you groan as you feel the uncomfortable tension at your back. You cringe at the sound of you back cracking but the tension disappearing makes it worth it.

As you run down the stairs and take a steaming sweet potato, not caring that the people who lived here would most likely notice, you look out a window to the right of the front door.

Novyi Zem?

A little to the left of the window you saw small clock pendant on the wall with locations on each hour mark: Kerch, Shu Han, Ravka, Fjerda, and Novyi Zem, your current location.

You opened the door and walked out the house, your curiosity overpowering the worry of your power not working.

“Move!” Someone said as they ran right into you, knocking you back so hard you hit the door. You scoffed and brushed up the area they pushed you, “Babink,” you cursed to yourself already feeling irritated at this era.

You spotted a jewelry stand from the corner of your eye and walked to it. Modern day Ravka didn’t have these designs, and it was exceptionally rare for jewelry to be made out of genuine crystals. Your irritation subsided as you fawn over the jewelry.

“Are you going to buy anything?” Asked the person working there.

I wish I could, “No, sorry.” The worker glanced over your outfit once before speaking to another customer. Right, you had modern day clothes on.

You started walking again, trying to find a stand with clothes that you could easily steal from. Normally you wouldn’t steal- you wouldn’t ever steal- but you didn’t have any money.

You finally found a stand selling clothes after walking around the crowded streets for some time, luckily the person working at the stand was focused with another customer. You reached for a few pieces of clothing and stalled at the stand for a few minutes hoping that the person at the stand would forget you were there.

Not sure how you could play this off, you answered to an imaginary person calling you, “Hey! I was just waiting for you…” you held your breath as you walked away from the stand, you were about to take a turn that would make you disappear from the stand’ point of view, but the saints hate you apparently.

“Hey! Hey!” they yelled again, “They’re a thief!”

You broke out into a sprint as commotion broke out in the stands, “Shit-fuck, shit-what the hell,” you brought your arms up ready to go back in time, “Oh my- fuck!” you cursed out at remembering that you can’t manipulate time right now.

You took a sudden turn left and bumped into another person, “sorry-“ said a female and male voice as they started running again. You nearly started running the way they came from until you saw a group of guards running you way- assuming that they were after you, you ran the same way the other people went.

The shopping area only got more chaotic it seemed. From behind you, you heard the guards yelling out “stop them!” which caused more people to run after you.

You followed the duo in front of you, it seemed like they knew how to outrun guards and such so you were willing to bet that following you would get you out.

Somewhere along the way the duo got separated and you trailed behind the guy. After some parkour, he turned a sudden corner, which you followed, slipped as you came to an abrupt stop. There was a locked door blocking your guys’ path, just your luck.

Fuck this era.

You turned around ready to run away but the guards were right behind you. You stepped back and tried to examine a way out. You could do some parkour on the wall, and some stands, but that couldn’t guarantee your escape.

“Hey,” you began to say; hoping that you could talk it out.

The guy behind you ran past you, immediately throwing punches and elbowing people.

“Guess violence is always the answer here-“ you took a shoe off your foot and threw it at one of the men who were running towards you. As the guard dodged it, you opted for slapping him in the face since you weren’t a hundred percent confident with your punching skills.

Taking the guard off guard, you ran towards one of the men hanging on the guy’ back. You jumped on his back effectively piggyback riding him and started bashing his head with your fist. It didn’t take long for him to fling you off his back, and he was about to lunge for your neck at strangle you but the guy who you were following managed to pull him back and throw him to a wall.

You mumble out a thanks as you get back on your feet.

“Hey!” You heard to your left.

Suddenly a wall of light blocked your vision that stunned the guards that you were fighting.

The one responsible for the wall of light, who happened to be the girl who got separated from the guy, ran up to him and helped him up, “So much for nobody knowing who I am,” she said with an amused yet exasperated tone.

“Yeah, that was subtle,” replied the guy. When the guy fully got back onto his feet, he looked at you then looked back at the girl before running toward the locked door.

“Uh-,” you called out, “ Thank you! For helping me,” you cringed at yourself as you found the guy ignoring you. You caught the girl’ attention however, before she averted it to the locked door in front of them. You ran up to them; ready to run out once she opened the door.

“I knew you’d be traveling as a pair, well-trio, now it seems.”

The girl quickly put herself in front of, who you’re now assuming to either be her brother or boyfriend, “Let’s see your hands. Especially you, Starkov. It’s time to turn you in.”

The people who had stands blocked your path, chatter breaking out between them.

The girl, Starkov, pulled back for a second.

This is really how I die, huh. Executed because I stole clothes. so dramatic. Well I guess it’s karma for what happened to-. To Elijah.

You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. But nothing happened, no hands were put on you. You opened your eyes to find the people who you thought were against you, facing towards the guards.

A women from the crowd ran up to you three, they unlocked the door but before opening it, faced Starkov. “Adawesi. Sun summoner.”

Your jaw dropped, sun summoner?

The women opened the door allowing the three of you to finally escape.

“Thanks for the help back there. I’m Mal.”

“No problem,” you said with a smile, “My name is Y/N,” since he didn’t give you a last name you felt no need to say yours.

“And I’m Alina Starkov,” said the sun summoner.

Sun summoner. The Fold time era. The time where your family line was the most educated on their own power…maybe you could figure out what happened to your power, and how to get it back. If you could.

The conversation died out as the three of you focused on running further away, and as the memories of you and Elijah running through the forest play through your head.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolal lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai x you #grishaverse #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov x grisha reader #shadow and bone fanfic #nikolai x y/n

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peachy-panic · 9 months

Text

I Want To Stay

DO NO HARM. Followup to The Incident last chapter. Sebastian and Jaime have some shit to work out.

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-adjacent, discussion of past sexual assault/abuse, self-victim-blaming thoughts, panic attack, some dehumanizing thoughts

Ezra is quiet for several long moments after Sebastian stops talking, the line crackling with static.

God, it’s even worse when he recounts the story out loud.

Part of him wonders if he made the right call, suggesting he and Jaime wait until the morning to talk. But after Jaime got dressed last night, Sebastian took one look at him perched on the edge of his bed, puffy eyes fighting to stay open, and he knew that the kid needed sleep more than he needed whatever weak reassurances Sebastian could offer him in the moment. Neither one of them were in the right headspace for the kind of talk they needed to have.

Not that Sebastian got much sleep in the end. A couple of broken hours at best. But that, at least, gave him the advantage of being awake before Jaime. He needed a window of time to get his head together, and the best way to find some clarity in this tangle was to dial Ezra’s number. And of course, despite the early hour, his call was answered.

“I recognize,” Ezra finally says slowly, “that this is not a comfortable subject, but I think it’s best if I speak freely now.”

“Please,” Sebastian says, a little too eagerly.

“I don’t think it will come as any surprise to you that there is a high probability he has been sexually abused by his previous contract holders.”

Sebastian pulls in a breath. He does not tell Ezra that he knows this for a fact. Even if the law does not uphold doctor-patient privileges for people like Jaime, Sebastian would never betray his confidence. Still, having the words spelled out between them in black and white, after the horror show in the living room, stings like a slap to the face.

Fortunately, Ezra doesn’t seem to expect a response.

“The first few weeks of a contract are incredibly difficult, no matter how long you’ve been at it. There is never any guarantee of what you’re walking into. I had…”

There is a brief, uncharacteristic pause, and Sebastian panics, because the last thing he wants to do is drag his friend into the murky waters of his own past to fix something that is Sebastian’s problem. But Ezra recovers quickly, moving on before he can call the whole thing off.

“I was contracted out a lot,” he says. “Early on, I learned that humans can always come up with new and unique ways of hurting each other. This boy… He is young. He is only beginning to find this out for himself. To him, right now, everyone in power is a threat to his safety. And nobody has more power in his life, right now, than you.”

Ezra gives that a moment to sink in, then asks, “Have the two of you had a clear conversation about your expectations?”

“I try to make it clear that I don’t expect anything from him.”

Ezra breathes out something that might be a laugh. “That is a nice sentiment, Sebastian, but not very helpful in practice. Expecting ‘nothing’ is rather vague, and is sort of an expectation in itself, is it not?”

Yes, it is. Of course it is.

Sebastian tries again. “I gave him a list of guidelines, like you suggested. Something he can reference if he gets nervous. I told him he doesn’t need to address me as a superior, that he is welcome to anything in the apartment and isn’t obligated to work around the house or… or serve me in any way.”

“I’m going to be blunt again,” Ezra says, “which is probably what you should do with him as well. Have you told him outright that you have no intention of having sex with him?”

Sebastian closes his eyes. “I… I told him that I would never hurt him. I didn’t specify—I mean, I would never even think about touching him like that, you know I wouldn’t.”

“Yes,” he interrupts gently. “I do know that. He, very clearly, does not. And given what you’ve told me, and what I already know about the system, he is going into this contract with every reasonable expectation that he will be assaulted at some point. It’s likely he still will believe that, even after you talk to him. But that trust has to start somewhere, and this is one promise that I know you’ll keep.”

Sebastian feels very suddenly like he might cry again, but Jaime could wake up any minute, and he doesn't want him to see his bloodshot eyes. He cannot go into this conversation framing himself as the victim.

“I thought he was starting to trust me.” It sounds as pathetic as he feels. “We’ve made so much progress in a few short weeks, and still, he… Jesus, Ezra, I’m doing exactly the opposite of what I wanted to do. You should have seen him last night. He’s terrified, and I didn’t even notice. He’s been spending—god, weeks just waiting for the moment I would…” He swallows back a gag. “He must have been so scared, and I didn’t even see it.”

“You see it now,” Ezra says—and isn’t that putting it mildly? “Now, you can address it.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. He just hopes it isn’t too late to reverse the damage.

****

For the first time in weeks, Jaime wakes to a morning that is even more grim than the night that preceded it. The memory from the night before slams into him before he even opens his eyes, sharper and meaner than any nightmare could be. Because last night, the demons weren’t just in his head. Last night, Jaime let them out into the open, laid them bare for Sebastian to see, and now he has ruined everything that could have been good.

Dread turns him to stone where he lay. From his tight ball on top of the blanket, he looks around the room—at the clothes hanging in the closet, the borrowed book on the nightstand next to the full glass of water Sebastian brought him the night before—all the tangible tokens of kindness that will be ripped away if Sebastian, justifiably, decides to sever their contract early. Jaime wishes he could turn back time. He knows that there will never be another assignment like this one. This was his best case scenario, far and above, and he has thrown it away.

The thought of sitting quietly in Sebastian’s passenger seat, empty handed as he drives him back to the facility, hollows his chest. He thinks about what it would be like, seeing him in the facility—passing him in the hallway with his head bowed, being brought into the clinic to be examined after a new contract—and Sebastian looking through him like a stranger.

Jaime swipes angrily at the tears that try to burn their way out. He has no right to cry about it now. There is no one to blame but himself.

He doesn’t know how many minutes pass, only that the sunlight coming in through the curtains has tinted gradually warmer over time. From the kitchen, he hears the muffled signs of life and knows Sebastian is up. Still, Jaime avoids the clock on the nightstand, desperately wishing to play ignorant for as long as he can. It’s selfish to hide himself away when Sebastian said he wanted to talk this morning, but the thought of facing him feels insurmountable.

Finally, the guilt outweighs his anxiety, and he can no longer delay the inevitable. Even if he really, really wants to.

He takes more time than strictly necessary picking out his clothes for the day, and even more pulling each article into place, but eventually there is nothing more he can do to stall. Standing in the middle of the room, Jaime turns to face the door and draws one slow breath after another. He does it again, and then again, and again, until suddenly the breaths are controlling him and not the other way around. They come faster and more shallow, and suddenly he’s not getting enough air at all. He jams one fist against his stomach and the other against his chest, digging his knuckles hard enough to bruise. Breathe. You have to breathe.

When he finally gains control, or some semblance of it, his knees are on the carpet, but he doesn’t remember hitting the floor.

He allows himself only the amount of time it takes for his breathing to level out, then he pushes himself up, rolls his shoulders back, and leaves the room.

Sebastian is sitting at the kitchen table, phone to his ear, when Jaime stops in the doorway. He looks up at him, eyes widening slightly, but covering the expression with a quick smile. “Hey, I’ve got to go,” he says to whoever is on the line, followed by a pause. “Yeah. Yes. I’ll ask him. Thank you again.”

He sets the phone facedown on the table and turns his full attention to Jaime. “Hey. Good morning,” he says, making half a move to stand, then seeming to think better of it.

“Good morning,” Jaime echoes numbly. Before he can start gushing whatever useless apologies his brain can come up with, Sebastian nudges a plate and a mug toward Jaime’s side of the table.

“I made some coffee and toast. It’s still warm.”

This is his way of softening the blow, a voice in the back of his head whispers. Still, Jaime obediently folds himself into the chair and thanks him. Not wanting to add ingratitude to his list of offenses, he nibbles on a piece of toast slathered in butter and honey. His favorite, he notes with a twinge of sadness.

A long silence overtakes the table. Both of them chew a little longer than they need to, taking extra sips of their coffee to buy time. Finally, when the tension feels tight enough to snap, Jaime blurts “I’m sorry I kissed you,” at the exact moment Sebastian says, “We should really talk about what happened.”

There is, inevitably, another long silence.

“Sorry, you go ahead,” Sebastian says quickly.

Jaime’s eyes fix to a spot on the table’s wood grain and don’t deviate from there. Somehow it’s even harder saying the words a second time, but this is the most important part. Jaime has been on the receiving end of a lot of kisses that he didn’t want. He needs Sebastian to know that he means it.

“I’m sorry for kissing you. You didn’t want to, and I… I was selfish. And I’m sorry.”

“Jaime,” Sebastian says gently, because even now, of course his first instinct is to meet Jaime with undue kindness. “It’s o—I mean, no, it’s not okay. But I don’t think you have a selfish bone in your body. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me.”

“I shouldn’t have done it,” Jaime whispers.

“No,” Sebastian agrees. “But I am not angry with you, or upset with you in any way. Okay? I just… I’m hoping you can help me understand how we got here.”

Jaime’s mouth clamps shut. He stares at the wood grain until his vision goes unfocused. A couple of times, he tries to pry his mouth open, but no words make it out.

“Okay.” Sebastian says patiently. “It’s okay. I know that was kind of a broad request. Maybe… maybe we can start with last night?” Jaime nods. “To be clear—It’s not that you’re not allowed, or that I’m in any way upset by it, but you were up pretty late. Is that… unusual for you?”

There is no point in lying now. “No.”

“Oh.” Sebastian sounds so sad, he wishes he could take back his answer immediately. “I’m sorry that I didn’t notice before.”

Jaime inclines his head. “I try not to wake you.”

Sebastian hesitates long enough for Jaime to look up, then says, “You can, you know. If you ever want to or need to. I’m no stranger to late nights. I know they can get pretty lonely sometimes. I won’t ever be mad at you for waking me up.”

Jaime doesn’t know what to say to that, as he doesn’t think Sebastian would appreciate a thank you, so he just nods.

The kitchen chair creaks as Sebastian shifts his weight across from him. “Jaime, I—” He stops, then starts again. “It’s okay that you couldn’t answer me last night, but I really need to know. Have I done something—even by accident, even something small—to make you feel like I wanted that from you last night?”

“It’s not you,” he says honestly. Not this version of you, at least. Not the real you. “You’ve been… you’ve been so nice to me.”

It doesn’t earn the smile he hoped for . “That’s… I’m glad you think so,” Sebastian says, “but obviously I haven’t been doing as well as I should, to let things get as far as they did last night.”

Jaime shakes his head, a bit frantically. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Haven’t I, though?” A bit of frustration seeps into Sebastian’s voice, and Jaime can’t help but wince. Immediately, Sebastian retracts. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jaime feels dangerously close to tears again. He’s clenching his fists under the table hard enough to make his joints ache, but the words tumble out of him anyway.

“I’ve been having nightmares.”

He doesn’t know what he thought he would achieve by telling him this, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to elaborate without making it worse for everyone, but the words are out there now and Sebastian seems to latch onto them.

“Oh,” he says softly, his copper brows drawing together above his glasses. “Do you want to tell me about them?”

He bites down on his cheek until he tastes blood. He doesn’t want that. He really, really doesn’t, but his silence seems to fill in the blanks that he doesn’t say out loud. He can almost feel the moment it clicks.

“Jaime?” Sebastian says. “Are these nightmares about me?”

He will not cry again. He won’t.

“I…” Jaime’s throat is dry. He swallows, trying to wet it. “I’m not allowed to talk about it, but you already know. What they did. The…” He’s treading dangerous waters, and his body knows it, if the trembling in his hands is any indication. It’s like the conditioning they forced on him is a physical part of his chemical makeup, rejecting the attempt to override it. “My Keepers, before you. You know what they did to me.”

At the time, in the clinic, it was humiliating to have all his secrets bared to Sebastian as his doctor. Now, he is grateful he doesn’t need to say the words aloud.

Slowly, Sebastian nods. “I do know. And Jaime?” He ducks his head so that he is closer to his line of sight. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it happened to you then, and I’m… I’m so sorry that I didn’t make it crystal clear to you until now—but I will never, never, do anything like that to you. I will never expect anything like that from you, nor would I want it, and just like last night, I would stop you if you tried.”

The conviction in his voice is hard to deny, though there is still a part of Jaime’s fucked up mind that tries to fight it. “Thank you,” he says anyway.

“Don’t—” Sebastian’s eyes clamp shut. “That is not something worth thanking me for.” When he looks at Jaime again, he studies him with an unreadable expression. “You know what they did to you was wrong, right? It was fucking evil. You know that, right?”

Hesitantly, Jaime nods.

“They had no right to touch you, and neither do I.”

Legally speaking, that might be true. But they both know that it is not the law that determines what is allowed and forbidden, but the systems that uphold it. And this system has been broken since its inception. Still, something about hearing the words out loud soothes some broken, desperate part of him that aches to believe it’s true. The part of him that’s been aching to believe it since he stepped through the door.

Sebastian has given him reason after reason to believe it. He realizes now, more than ever, how much he doesn’t want to lose that.

“Are you going to take me back?” He rips off the bandaid, clean and quick. He needs to know the answer now, before his hopes can climb any higher.

For a moment, Sebastian stares at him with the kind of quiet you expect to hear before a bomb goes off.

“Jaime,” he says, and there are tears in his eyes. “You’re not a… You aren’t a fucking toaster. I’m not just going to dump you off on WRU the second something goes wrong. You are a human being, and I… I care about you. The only thing that would make me take you back to those people is if you told me you wanted to go, and even then, I would insist that we explore every other possible fucking option first.”

Jaime doesn’t know what other options there are, and he doesn’t ask, because right now his brain is reverberating with one single thought: I get to stay. I get to stay. I get to stay.

“I want to stay,” Jaime says.

Sebastian nods. “Good. Okay. Good. I want you to stay, too.”

This time, when they return to their toast, the quiet is much lighter than before, the tension slackening along with their posture. They take their time, finishing their food before either of them speaks again.

“I know that you’re not allowed to talk about what happened with your… on your past contracts,” Sebastian says suddenly. “But for what it’s worth? I promise that I’ll never tell a soul if you decide you want to talk about it with me. You deserve to have that option, whatever you decide.”

Jaime briefly entertains the thought of unloading those stories, what it might feel like to share that weight with someone who cares about him, if only for a little while. But the darkness will slip in fast if he allows it, and he doesn’t want to bring Mr. Torley or Bryan or Thomas or Handler Smith or any of the others anywhere near this moment.

“Okay,” he says.

Sebastian nods, accepting that answer easily. He collects both their empty plates and carries them to the sink, turning his back to Jaime.

“There is something else I wanted to talk about,” he says over the running tap. “Do you remember the friend I told you about? The one who mentioned wanting to meet you?”

He does remember. At the time, the idea of meeting another one of his Keeper’s friends filled him with cold dread, too fresh off the memory of Football Sundays at the Torley house. Now, after the night behind them and the conversation they had, Jaime tries his hand at trusting him.

“Yes, I remember.”

Sebastian turns back to him and leans against the counter, drying his hands on his sweater. “I think it would be good for you to know you have someone else on your side. Someone besides me, I mean.”

Jaime’s confusion must be apparent on his face, because Sebastian elaborates, albeit somewhat uneasily.

“He gave me permission—or… well, an instruction, really, to tell you this before you make your decision about meeting him. And let me be clear, it is completely your decision.”

He seems to wait for some sort of confirmation, so Jaime nods again, fighting against the instinct that tells him the rug is about to be ripped out from under him.

“Ezra is… Ezra was in the system, too.”

Jaime blinks, truly lost now. “He’s a companion?”

“No, he isn’t,” Sebastian says, and there is the slightest tug at the corner of his mouth. “But he used to be.”

***

TAG LIST: @whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply @cyborg0109 @whumplr-reader @pinkraindropsfell @whatwhumpcomments @honeycollectswhump @pirefyrelight

#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #bbu #like bbu adjacent?#whump #whumplr #whump writing #THIS WAS A HARD ONE #it's a hard conversation to have and to write #hope i did it some justice

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waterfallofspace · 11 months

Note

9, 42, and 45 for a sick, sneezy vash please, if that’s okay? 😄

Thank you for the ask, of course that's okay!! (it does feature a hint of W/olfwood action too, just a smiiidge, hope that's alright hehe~ It's also a V/ashwood story since, well, I figured that would be alright~!) 1.9k words, prompts 9, 42, and 45, story under cut! 9. “You’re trembling.” 42. “Baby, you’re all sniffly.” 45. “Your nose is literally twitching.” (Brief mentions of anxiety just incase anyone doesn't like that!)

~~~~~~~

“hn’chh-! hh’keshh-! ‘Scuse me, sorry.”

“I told ya, no need for the ‘pologies.”

“Y- you did but it’s a hahh... habit. hek’ishh-! Sor-”

A dark look from Wolfwood cuts off the apology, Vash being reduced to stuttering out some nonsensical syllables in his effort to recover. His leg is still, but there’s constant movement in his hands as they attempt to find something to grab onto. Anxiety was never a stranger to the man, despite apparent lack of concern for his own safety most of the time.

The town they find themselves in doesn’t have a motel, which isn’t that unique in these parts. They’ve grown quite used to sharing a room, or even just a bed, wherever they could find one. For instance, they’re currently sharing a guest room above the town bar. Not an awful crashpad, a couch, nice radio, their own bathroom.

It’s secluded from the rest of the bar too, giving them a bit of privacy. Sliding onto the bed, Wolfwood motions for Vash to join him. Surprise crosses his sharp features as the request is denied. Instead, Vash points himself towards the couch, offering a wave over his shoulder as he spins away. ‘Well that’s new…’

“What, suddenly too good to share a bed with me, Blondie?”

“Wh- what? No, not at all! I just… I figured you’d- en’chh-! ih’tshhie-! Excuse me, sorry. Where was I..? Oh right, m- maybe you’d want it to yourself this time and I don’t mind t- taking the couch.”

“‘Cause of your cold? I don’t care, now get over here.”

“Because of my- what? I’m… I’m not sick?”

Wolfwood doesn’t reply, instead he lets the uncomfortable silence settle over the room as he watches Vash. ‘Either he’s playing dumb, and doesn’t want to admit it, or the needle noggin really didn’t notice. Gotta know which before I make my move.’ Under the weight of tension starting to spread through the air, Vash gives a heavy sigh. The breath comes out shaky as his body vibrates, hands starting to rub his arms.

“You’re literally trembling. You tryna tell me that ain’t shivers?”

“It’s not! Well okay… I mean it is shivering, but not from sickness, it’s just cold in here, that’s all! ennchh-! Sorry, excuse me.”

The sneeze brings a fresh round of shudders as Wolfwood raises a brow at the display. ‘So denial it is then. If it was cold in ‘ere I’d’ve noticed long before him.’ A blessing almost slips out, but that’ll just lead to a new round of apologies. Right now it’s more important to get an admittance and go from there.

“Blondie, we’re in a fuckin’ desert. It’s not cold anywhere.”

“W- well they must have the air on! Or… or something… probably the air, b- because it’s so hot out, so they uh… they want it to be cool indoors.”

“Guess I should go ask ‘em to turn it off-”

“Hey- wait no, uh… it’s- it’s actually starting to uh… warm up..? D- don’t bother them. hk’ishiee-! Sorry. They let us stay here, I don’t- I mean we don’t want to be a burden on them-”

A hint of pride starts to break through Wolfwood’s mind as he grins. ‘And there it is. Gotcha.’ Vash has always been hesitant to be a burden. Not a horrible mindset to have for most people, ‘Hell, a few could use more of it’. The problem is that his definition of ‘burden’ includes things such as eating, sleeping, breathing, or simply existing when he’s not actively helping in some way.

Sickness was high on his list of ‘things that make me a burden on everyone I come in contact with’, despite Wolfwood’s constant reminders that he doesn’t mind. However, there is something above it, and that’s ‘bothering someone else’, especially when it’s for a made up reason. Given the choice between admitting sickness or waking the bartender to ask them to turn off the ‘air’ that doesn’t exist, well…

“-Okay fine. I might be… a little bit sick… but- hh’ishh’iee-! hehh- en’chhh-! heh’kshh’iew-!”

“Blessin’”

“Thank you, sorry, it’s really not that bad!”

“Then get in bed ‘fore it gets worse.”

“I uh… I really don’t think that’s-”

“I’ll even read from the book I’ve been finishin’. But that's a limited time offer, Blondie. Goin’ once, goin’ twice-”

Before he can start the next word, Vash hurls himself towards the bed, an excited set of vibrations starting to replace the shivers. Wolfwood chuckles, lifting the blanket from his legs to wrap it around Vash, giving his shoulders a light squeeze. In response the huddled form leans into his lap, head resting against his chest.

“Ready?”

“Yehh… yep!”

“Alright. The second reason he realized she was gone was from the smell. The air had lost a sweetness. One he’d grown so used to he hardly recognized it anymore. That is, until it was gone. -----”

Wolfwood continues reading, his focus being drawn away from the world once more. ‘Would’ve thought romance books were more Blondie’s thing, but… well… after he gave me that one about the garden love story… I guess I could understand the appeal… But only because Vash likes it when I read them. That’s all.’ No one else can hear him, but Wolfwood still feels the need to justify the surge of emotion starting to creep through his heart.

Maybe it was the fact Vash had given him them. Maybe it was the fact that blondie was gazing up with a hazy adoration as each word leaves his throat. Doesn’t really matter why. All that matters is how the words seem to glide off the page, through his deep voice to dance around their heads, playing out each scene as he reads them. This sensation is short lived though, as soon he feels himself snapping back to the bedroom where a soft sound has begun.

“hkk-! guhh…”

“Brushing the branches from his uh… from his face, he starts to cut through the dense forest.”

“heHh-! hhh… Snnff-”

“T- the branches, oh wait read that already, ah here we go. The dense forest. Eyes seem to be peering at him through the-”

“hahHhh- snff- hkIH-! hehh…”

“Through the, uh, the-”

“hhih-!”

“Christ, Blondie. Just sneeze already.”

Vash’s head pops out from its blanket cocoon against Wolfwood’s chest, a pink tint spread across his cheeks that has nothing to do with his cold. Bringing up a single finger to lightly rub his nose, Vash tries to offer a sincere smile. What instead crosses his face is a look that just screams itchy. Wolfwood feels a sympathy tickle through his own nose.

“Wh- what?”

“Your nose is literally twitching. You’re makin’ me itchy from the look of it. Jus’ sneeze, it’s okay. I’ll even pause my readin’.”

“I- I don’t… okay yehh… yes I do- I’m so sorry ehH-!”

“Don’t ‘pologize. Nothin’ to be ‘shamed of.”

“eH’tmmfshh-! hh’mmshhii-! hk’ishh’ieee-!”

He attempts to muffle the first two into his hand, the third escaping with a pitch that sounds incredibly unsatisfying. ‘No wonder he always has these long drawn out fits. Those sound like they do nothin’ to relieve the itch.’ Pausing his analysis, Wolfwood leans towards the nightstand, grabbing a handful of tissues and pressing them into Vash’s unused hand.

A timid smile meets the gesture as Vash brings them to his nose, humming a sigh. The action seems to bring a new level of irritation, his breath snaring as the tissues are gripped tighter. It teases him for a minute, Wolfwood choking back a laugh at the whimper the tissues barely muffle. Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, a desperate “hnnchh-! ih’tishiee-! keshh’ii-!” break through. Wolfwood lets a knuckle crush his own nose, sympathy waves running through it again.

“Blessin’.”

“Thanks. Sor-”

“You’re only welcome if you don’t finish that apology.”

“-So are you gonna keep reading..? hih’ishhiee-! hk’ieshh-! Excuse me.”

“Blessin’s. Good save, Blondie. Remind me where we were?”

“Eyes in the- eh’kshhiee-! forest.”

“Blessin’, alright. So- wait… hold on a sec.”

Wolfwood lets the book rest on his knees, staring up through his sunglasses at the ceiling. Vash attempts to follow his gaze, but can’t notice anything worth staring at. Deciding to ask, Vash leans up to meet his eyes. Hardly a noise escapes before Wolfwood holds up a finger to silence him, tilting his sunglasses down and blinking through the brightness.

“huh’yIEZzshh’oo-! ai’GNZSHhh’oo-! Whew, that’s better.”

“Oh- bless you! Did- did I get-”

“No you didn' get me sick. My immune system ain’t nearly as fragile as yours.”

“Hey! Well then, is- hh’tieshh’ii-! Excuse me. Is something bothering you?”

“Nah, jus’ a tickle. Think it was ‘cause of the itchy look you were wearin’.”

“Oh, okay! S- sorry…”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, Blondie. Now, back to the book?"

"Yes!"

"Eyes seem to be peering at him through the darkness. Watching his every step, daring him to come closer. Daring him to betray his heart alongside his kingdom. What did they know? Surely not his heart. That was something that couldn’t be known by anyone, not after her. ------.”

Wolfwood feels the words flow from him once more, almost before his eyes can trace their forms on the page. Figures begin their dance, chasing each other in beautiful patterns through the humid air. The only thing pulling him from the daydream that he finds himself in far too often with Vash is the sound of constant sniffles.

There is an outright refusal to address the noises, so instead Wolfwood continues reading, making it through another two chapters before giving in and setting the book back down. Vash looks up with an innocent gaze, absentmindedly rubbing his palm against his nose as another sniff breaks free.

“Baby, you’re all sniffly. You can blow your nose.”

The pet name gets the reaction it was meant to, Vash suddenly laser focused on Wolfwood’s every word. ‘Alright, easy now with this next part. He’s jus’ about there, gotta be delicate. Which… has never really been my strong suit.’ There’s a hint of unease beneath Vash’s smile, palm crushing against his face again.

“I know you’re sick, Vash. You told me that earlier. So you can drop the ruse.”

“We- well…”

“It’s just us.”

Vash flushes as Wolfwood passes him another handful of tissues, but brings them to his nose anyways. He turns away, ever mindful of others, and blows a couple times. The first seems unsuccessful, but by the third he manages to get a semblance of airflow through his sinuses.

Giving a heady sigh of relief, Vash turns back to Wolfwood, mouth open as if to form words. He never gets the chance, the next breath through his sensitive nasal passages bringing his hands up to his face by instinct. Wolfwood chuckles, letting a hand drop to rub his back through the fit.

“hH’ieshh’ie-! keshhh’iee-! hihh- tnnshhii-! Ih’tieshhiee-!”

“Blessin’s. Heh, you’re awfully adorable at times, Blondie.”

“I am no- heH’ishh-! hk’ishh-! tieshh’iee-! not!”

Humming out another laugh, Wolfwood brushes the hair from Vash’s warm skin, planting a kiss on his forehead. Vash responds with a sigh, airy and light, before he sinks back into Wolfwood’s chest, wrapping himself deeper into the blanket. A smirk crosses Wolfwood’s face, ‘Not cute, huh?’ before he lifts the book once more.

There, in the safety of Wolfwood’s embrace, Vash finds himself drifting off to sleep, figures dancing through his mind as the deep voice fades off into a peaceful darkness.

#waterfallasks #waterfallwrites #thank you for the request!! Hopefully this is acceptable compensation for the wait~ haha #I'm over the burn out that I was feeling before so I'm hopeful I'll get quite a few done!#but i also don't wanna sink back into it- so it might be a touch slower than before~~!!!#but as always if there's something specific you wanna see #feel free to send in a request and I'll see what I can do!#long as you don't mind a bit of a wait~ I promise I love getting them!! sparks my mind hehe~#anyways- hope anyone who reads this enjoys some v/ashwood sweetness~#t/rigun s/tampede #v/ash #v/ashwood #w/olfwood #snz

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fugamsemidei · 5 months

Text

He shuffles nervously. The little group waits for him to elaborate. He isn't sure if he should. He isn't sure if he can.

Victoria flicks an ear, speaking evenly. "Listen to me Paleo. I give all who come here the benefit of the doubt....but this is suspiciously timed of you. Sunset has just accused you of something dire, and the moment she's gone, you tell me you want to leave? Being vague about why? It comes across as you running from a true accusation, though I'd like to believe its not."

He swallows. He'd been planning to say this before Sunset's accusation, but since he'd waited, it now did look bad of him.

"I know, and I thank you for the trust you've had in me thus far." He begins. "It's not something I take lightly." He gave a light bow of his head.

Victoria narrowed her eyes a little. "I know I cannot prevent you from doing anything, but from what you've said, you and your kids had a very strenuous time out there before finding this place. What could be so important to justify taking this safety from them?"

The genuine anger in his tone startles the group into silence. His words spill forth with little pause. "From the moment I got them out of there it has been unbearably tense between us in all but a select few moments! Ark does not want me as a father, and Alburune refuses to even talk to me! The past few weeks have made only one thing abundantly clear: I am not suited to parent anyone!" He groans hoarsely, dragging his claws across his face. "I have no idea what I'm doing. You all do. It is simple as that."

Victoria seems puzzled, but she's still the one who breaks the silence. "....is that what you were lying about? Your intention to stay here with y...these children?"

He goes quiet. It wasn't. But it was a convenient cover story, so he nods. "I...in all honesty, this was approximately my plan since we left the facility. I...wanted to find them someplace where they'd be safe, and cared for, and then...go my own way....or...." He trails off. He had no plan, really, beyond securing safety for his charges. But he knew he could not stay with them, for them to be safe.

Unfortunately for him, the others do not react with understanding. They react with disappointment.

Nobone speaks first. "There's something I don't think you understand, Paleo. The three of you share something horrific and traumatic in a very specific and unique sense. That is something that only the three of you can relate to and understand. If you leave them, it will leave them with no outlet for that pain."

"They would grow up here, feeling isolated and alone in their grief." Says Knalla next. "You'd be abandoning them to that fate out of...what? Guilt?" Her eyes narrow, judgmental.

He swallows. "I...I am not fit for this role, it was forced upon me-"

"Then learn." She cuts him off, gaze hard. "Learn to be there for them. Learn how to make them feel comfortable. It is your responsibility as their guardian. You've got plenty of role models here, and all the time in the world."

"But nothing. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain." Knalla cut him off, voice going gentle at the end. "Please. For your kids."

"They're not-"

"Did you not see how they clung to you when you arrived here?" Victoria spoke up. "Like it or not, they see you as safety in some sense. You swore fealty to me, and I am exercising that authority just this once: it would be nothing short of neglect to abandon them right now."

He was trapped by what he was hiding. But what if he told them, and they decided it wasn't safe to keep the kids either?

He sighed, the nerves fluttering beneath his skin not letting his feathers smooth. "F...fine. I will stay and learn. For them." He relented.

He was met with grateful smiles. But the only thing he felt was dread.

#fugamsemidei #Long post #Pokemon ask blog #Pokeaskblog #Paleo Silvally #Silvally #Knalla Smeargle #Smeargle #Acacia Phantump #Phantump #Nobone Marowak #Marowak #Victoria Vigoroth #Vigoroth #Mirian Houndoom #Houndoom #My art #Story

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axel-skz · 11 months

Text

Going ahead doesn't mean you're going to get there first

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write just for fun. Which means don’t stress about it and writing at my own pace. BUT IT IS SO HARD! I feel so bad that people are waiting. Then I give myself the reality check that no ones on the edge of their seat waiting. Then it’s depressing. Then I forget and repeat that cycle. Short term memory loss coming in clutch. I like how these are usually just bits of my life story lmao. ||| I’m away from my ipad atm so I’m gonna give an honorary mention to the 5 star album instead of shuffling a song today. STREAM!!!!

You have been away on a business trip and miss jisung so much. (No, it’s not smut)

(Ok but could he be any cuter?!)

You had a business trip. A freaking 2 month business trip. Your life had been a nightmare. Especially being away from your beloved, Hanji. You were in constant meetings and it was absolutely exhausting. It was the worst timing too because han had just got time off.

You hadn’t told him but you planned to surprise him. He had a week left of being free and you planned to spend the whole time with him. It would be so nice to finally relax and spend the whole time wrapped in blankets and the arms of your favourite human. Comfort personified.

He had this unique ability to make you feel stress free. Which was hard for you because you were always thinking about work or tasks you had. Not with him though, he was smart and it was impossible not to get lost in his eyes.

Oh, and don’t even start with his cheeks. You poked his face once for fun and next thing you knew, you had been there for half an hour, pinching his cheeks.

These thoughts weren’t helping you with the feelings of homesickness but that would all go away soon.

Your jet lag was kicking your ass as you made your way into your apartment complex. You were still so excited to see him though. The excitement gave you the capability to ignore the fact that your nose was blocked but could still smell airplane food the whole time.

You opened your door and looked around to see if he was there. After putting your bags in your room, you looked around to find that he was in fact, not home. You set up everything for a nice surprise but got surprised when he called you.

‘Hey sweet cheeks,’ you said enthusiastically.

‘I feel like my final words might just be me telling you not to call me that,’ he sighed.

‘I can never let go. You know this. It’s too cute a name,’ you said defiantly.

‘We can argue about this when you get back to your apartment and open the door to let me in. I’m tired and I’m cold.’

Your heart stopped, ‘my what who?!’

‘Your apartment? I got the address from your work buddies. I wanted to surprise you but you aren’t home and I waited like half an hour. Now I’m getting stares from people. Some guy gave me money thinking I’m a hobo. I’m never wearing these jeans again.’

You were frozen for so long he started to question if you were still there. You broke out of your semi conscious state and said, ‘ji… I’m not there… I came home to surprise you for the week…’

He froze then laughed, ‘good one! Now come open your door.’

You turned the call to a video call and he could see you in the apartment.

He scowled, ‘I’m exhausted and sleep deprived for no reason?!’

‘I love that we both had the exact same idea…’

‘Yeah, great, we’re both stupid,’ he laughed.

‘Well, a couple that does… stupid crap together, stays together,’ you chuckled.

‘You stay there, I’ll get a flight back. This will take a while so don’t move,’ he winked.

‘I’m not staying in this one spot for the next 5 hours ji,’ you said while squinting.

‘Get yourself a partner who will stay fully still for you for 5 hours cus you said so…’ he dramatically clutched his heart.

‘Do you wanna be single in the next five minutes? Because I can make that happen,’ you deadpanned.

His eyes widened, ‘I love you the most in the world! You are not allowed to leave me! You could never subject me to dying alone!’

‘And you call me dramatic,’ you laughed.

It took him an extra day to come home because flights had been delayed. When he finally got home, he was exhausted. It was good he had experience in flying a lot since he had to as an idol.

You hid when he finally got home because… why not torture someone who is so clearly exhausted and near the point of death.

He came in with the last bit of his energy coming from his excitement to see you. He yelled your name as he looked around and couldn’t find you. He stood still and you were so confused.

Then he sat on the sofa and broke down… he was crying… he sniffled as he got his phone and called you. Your phone rang in the apartment and he jumped.

You then popped out of your hiding spot and scared him a second time.

He jumped again then looked stunned to see you. He stared through teary eyes, ‘if you don’t hug me now for atleast 5 days, I will die.’

You felt so bad and ran over to give him a hug. He fell back onto the sofa and you guys cuddled for the rest of your time home. Just as you wanted. You made it up to him with all the different kinds of chocolates and sweets you brought back.

‘Y/N, you’re pure evil. You and minho hyung would get along great.’

‘One more thing we have in common.’

He looked puzzled, ‘what’s the other thing?’

‘Our love for you.’ This made him give you a big smile.

And for the greater good of everyone, jisung did not die :))

REMEMBER TO LIKE AND REPOST 😈 SEND ANY REQUESTS YOU MAY HAVE

Feel rich and boujee (idk if thats how you spell that and quite frankly, im too lazy to google it) with me.

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aria-ashryver · 18 days

Note

Positivity Chain!

Please recommend 3 favorite fanfics by other creators and 1 of your own.

Then tag 5 other creators to do the same.

This is the sweetest ask, thank you anon! 🌷

Choices Fandom

Incident in the Ghostland (AO3 | Explicit) by @dreamscapingsblog

sorry for the notif my sweetest bestest friend, I know tumblr isn't your vibe but I can't have the opportunity to rec your works put in front of me and not JUMP at the chance to put Ghostland out there first and foremost!! Your prose is poetry, your angst makes my teeth hurt, and I will forever be in awe of how you capture such beautifully emotional motifs in the most unique and expressive ways. I'd put this whole fic in an art gallery if I could. Love you, love you, love your writing 💖💖💖

Let Me Be Your Valentine, Saint Valentine (AO3 | Teen) by @aallotarenunelma

Another beloved ID writer, but a MAH fic this time! I was tossing up between this and Indigo Blood because I adored the bond between Skylar and Saini (see how I'm cheating by linking both? 😈💞), but they way you told Donovan and Edelmina's story just brought me so much peace. I always loved their bond in canon over their shared grief, and seeing in here as this deeply vulnerable and trusting relationship just made my heart so happy (and it was really cool to read about Edelmina's aspecness)

The 2AM Christmas Tree Farm by @thosehallowedhalls

Listen I'm a fool for only having just caught up on CoP, because I have been missing out on all this goodness, and I just know I'm going to have so much fun making my way through the rest of your works, but holy hell what an introduction to your Emma and Trystan this was!! You can perhaps tell, from the absolute chaos that was my comment, that I rather enjoyed this one!! And with the way you write? I know I'm going to find some more gems to adore in your masterlist 😊

Non-Choices Fandom

For a Good Time, Call (AO3 | Explicit) by ScarlettStorm

I gotta take a second to rec this, because it might be hands down my favourite fic of all time. The authorial voice is just ✨DIVINE✨, and it is just so deeply moving, I have no words. Its just so... healthy? Portrayal of sex and consent and sex work? Amazing. Attitudes towards trust and communication? Wonderful. Exploration of mental health, PTSD, panic attacks, ASD, inward growth as well as fostering something beautiful between the two romantic leads? Fan-freaking-tastic. Plus it also features lines such as

He wonders if Wei Ying would keep talking, even while being kissed. He thinks he probably would.

Its absolute ADHD meets Autism solidarity, and I cannot recommend it highly enough. (Plus, the smut is seriously god-tier.)

Oh, yeah! I was mean to rec one of my own!

Uhhh... Snow in Crimson, Starlight in Gold (AO3 | Explicit) is very much my baby, and every time someone tells me they liked it and/or my charactersation of Cas, Gabe, and Luca, I go ugly cry for ten years

But also! If you want something about a million times shorter, Whatever You Say, President Adalhard (AO3 | Explicit) is a wlw!Gas fic which is pretty cute. (and I'm trying so hard to finish chapter 2, I swear)

#asks answered #damn i'm getting good at remembering to use that tag

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reasoningdaily · 1 month

Text

It’s hard to find anyone these days who looks back on the U.S.-led response to the January 12, 2010, Haiti earthquake as a success, but it wasn’t always that way. Right after the disaster, even as neighborhoods lay in rubble, their people sweltering under tarps, the consensus—outside Haiti—was that America’s “compassionate invasion” (as TIME Magazine called it) had been “largely a success” (Los Angeles Times), offering further proof that “in critical moments of the history of mankind … the United States is, in fact, the indispensable nation” (Expresso, Portugal).

As the latest release of Hillary Clinton’s personal emails by the U.S. State Department Monday revealed, that perception was not an accident. “We waged a very successful campaign against the negative stories concerning our involvement in Haiti,” Judith McHale, the under-secretary of state for public diplomacy and public affairs, wrote on February 26, 2010. A few weeks before, the public affairs chief had emailed newspaper quotations praising U.S. efforts in Haiti to Secretary Clinton with the note “Our Posts at work.” Clinton applauded. “That’s the result of your leadership and a new model of engagement w our own people,” she replied. “Onward!”

But one person even closer to the secretary of state was singing a different tune—very, very quietly. On February 22, after a four-day visit to the quake zone, Chelsea Clinton authored a seven-page memo which she addressed to “Dad, Mom,” and copied their chief aides. That informal report tells a continuing story of the unique brands of power and intelligence wielded by the Clinton family in Haiti and around the world—and of the uniquely Clinton ways they often undermine themselves.

First off, there was the secrecy. The memo—by a Clinton, with a master’s in public health from Columbia University, pursuing a doctorate in international relations from Oxford and with a prominent role at her family’s foundation—would have obliterated the public narrative of helpful outsiders saving grateful earthquake survivors that her mother’s State Department was working so hard to promote. Instead, like so much of the inner workings of the Clintons’ vast network, it was kept secret, released only in an ongoing dump of some 35,000 emails from Hillary’s private server, in response to a Freedom of Information Act Lawsuit wrapped up in the politics of the 2016 presidential election.

Chelsea Clinton was blunt in her report, confident the recipients would respect her request in the memo’s introduction to remain an “invisible soldier.” She had first come to the quake zone six days after the disaster with her father and then-fiancé, Mark Mezvinsky. Now she was returning with the medical aid group Partners in Health, whose co-founder, Dr. Paul Farmer, was her father’s deputy in his Office of the UN Special Envoy for Haiti. What she saw profoundly disturbed her.

Five weeks after the earthquake, international responders were still in relief mode: U.S. soldiers roamed Port-au-Prince streets on alert for signs of social breakdown, while aid groups held daily coordination meetings inside a heavily guarded UN compound ordinary Haitian couldn’t enter. But Haitians had long since moved on into their own recovery mode, many in displacement camps they had set up themselves, as responders who rarely even spoke the language, Kreyòl, worked around them, oblivious to their efforts.

“The incompetence is mind numbing,” she told her parents. “The UN people I encountered were frequently out of touch … anachronistic in their thinking at best and arrogant and incompetent at worst.” “There is NO accountability in the UN system or international humanitarian system.” The weak Haitian government, which had lost buildings and staff in the disaster, had something of a plan, she noted. Yet because it had failed to articulate its wishes quickly enough, foreigners rushed forward with a “proliferation of ad hoc efforts by the UN and INGOs [international nongovernmental organizations] to ‘help,’ some of which have helped … some of which have hurt … and some which have not happened at all.”

The former first daughter recognized something that scores of other foreigners had missed: that Haitians were not just sitting around waiting for others to do the work. “Haitians in the settlements are very much organizing themselves … Fairly nuanced settlement governance structures have already developed,” she wrote, giving the example of camp home to 40,000 displaced quake survivors who had established a governing committee and a series of sub-committees overseeing security, sanitation, women’s needs and other issues.

“They wanted to help themselves, and they wanted reliability and accountability from their partners,” Chelsea Clinton wrote. But that help was not coming. The aid groups had ignored requests for T-shirts, flashlights and pay for the security committee, and the U.S. military had apparently passed on the committee’s back-up plan that they provide security themselves. “The settlements’ governing bodies—as they shared with me—are beginning to experience UN/INGO fatigue given how often they articulate their needs, willingness to work—and how little is coming their way.”

That analysis went beyond what some observers have taken years to understand, and many others still haven’t: that disaster survivors are best positioned to take charge of their own recovery, yet often get pushed aside by outside authorities who think, wrongly, that they know better. Her report also had more than an echo of the philosophy of her Partners in Health tour guides. More than five years later, her candor and force of insight impress experts. “I am struck by the direct tone and the level of detail,” says Vijaya Ramachandran, a senior fellow at the Center for Global Development.

But then came the recommendations—and a second classic pitfall. Far from speaking uncomfortable truths to her parents’ power, Chelsea was largely agreeing with their own assessments. At a March UN donors’ conference for Haiti over which Bill and Hillary Clinton presided, the secretary of state would tell the assembled delegates that the global community had to start doing things differently. “It will be tempting to fall back on old habits—to work around the [Haitian] government rather than to work with them as partners, to fund a scattered array of well-meaning projects rather than making the deeper, long-term investments that Haiti needs now,” she said, nearly repeating her daughter’s dismissal of the “ad hoc efforts” that had defined the early response.

Bill Clinton had also long been scathing in his assessments of aid work there. As the Associated Press correspondent in Port-au-Prince before, during and after the quake, I’d followed him on his visits since becoming UN Special Envoy in mid-2009. In public, the former president called for better coordination between NGOs and donors. In private, after long, frustrating days in the Caribbean heat, he’d sometimes just go off, lighting into the nearest staffer about partners’ missed meetings and broken promises. The former president also loved to apologize for his own past actions—destructive food policies which flooded the Haitian market with cheap Arkansas rice, and ordering a crippling embargo that destroyed the Haitian economy during the reign of a 1990s military junta (some of whose members had been on the CIA payroll).

Yet those introspections rarely extend to the present. As anyone who’s covered the Clintons can tell you, they armor themselves with staffers who hit back against almost any hint of criticism—especially when an election is near. The one thing the Clintons never seem to question is the idea that they, personally, should remain in charge. And that is precisely what Chelsea recommended in her report:

“The Office of Special Envoy—i.e., you Dad—needs authority over the UN and all its myriad parts—which I do believe would give you effective authority over [the NGOs].” Her father, the former president, should be a “single point of authority,” she said—overseeing a replacement for the organizational system of government agencies, militaries and NGOs.

The truth is that Bill Clinton was already by far the most powerful individual in this flawed system, with Hillary close behind. She was guiding the U.S. response as secretary of state. He was already UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon’s Special Envoy for Haiti, head patron of the Clinton Foundation and co-leader of the newly formed Clinton-Bush Haiti Fund. Weeks later the couple would share the dais at the donors conference, where governments and aid groups pledged some $10 billion for Haiti’s recovery. Her father would soon accept the co-chairmanship of the Interim Haiti Recovery Commission, the quasi-government body charged with allocating many of the funds. (“Finally,” chief of staff Cheryl Mills wrote to the secretary in a March 29, 2010, email, when news of the appointment leaked to the Haitian press.) The irony is that, after pages of scathing analysis about the failure of international responders to understand and respect ordinary people in Haiti, Chelsea Clinton’s plan would have created an even more powerful foreigner operating at an even greater remove. She did call on this new Super Clinton-led structure to “support the Haitian government,” but noted that it could only build “local capacity and capabilities, where feasible”—a logical loophole the U.S. government would fall back on time and again as it kept to old habits after all, including refusing to provide Haiti’s government with direct budget support.

As it was, that personality-driven leadership style meant the response to the Haiti quake would focus on priorities set by those surrounding them, rather than those of majority of Haitians. The new email tranche shows how quickly the construction of low-wage garment factories and prioritizing exports to the U.S. market came to the center of the U.S.-led response in Haiti. That strategy, authored by economist Paul Collier, was what Bill Clinton had come to Haiti to promote as special envoy before the quake. Little more than two weeks after the disaster, Mills, a former Clinton White House counsel who became her point woman on Haiti, forwarded the secretary a New York Times op-ed by Collier and consultant Jean-Louis Warnholz rebranding the pre-quake strategy as a form of post-quake reconstruction.

“He now works for us,” she noted for her boss, referring to Warnholz.

The new emails also show how Hillary’s staffers brought former Liz Claiborne Inc. executive Paul Charron into the fold to collaborate with Hillary Clinton and Warnholz on helping to make the garment factories a reality. “As I communicated to Jean-Louis, I am happy to be helpful to you and the State Department on this project,” Charron wrote Mills in August 2010. Around that time, Charron made a key phone call to a former Liz Claiborne colleague now working as an advisor for the South Korean garment giant Sae-A Trading Co. Ltd., to encourage that company to come up with an investment plan in Haiti, the New York Times reported two years later.

In 2012, Bill and Hillary Clinton attended the opening of the brand-new, $300 million Caracol Industrial Park in northern Haiti, with Sae-A as the anchor tenant.

Today, there has been little reconstruction in Port-au-Prince. Most quake survivors have moved back into precarious homes, hoping another disaster doesn’t strike. The country is still being ravaged by a cholera epidemic that began nine months after the earthquake and has killed nearly 9,000 people. Both Bill and Hillary Clinton have publicly acknowledged this epidemic, unrelated to the quake, was caused by United Nations peacekeepers—who in turn, as Chelsea correctly foresaw, have been able to avoid any semblance of accountability. President Michel Martelly, who Hillary Clinton helped put in office as secretary of state, is struggling to hold the country’s first elections since he took power, with observers watching warily to see if he will leave office next spring.

As for Caracol, the northern industrial park has created just 5,479 out of a promised 60,000 jobs when I visited in the spring, as workers complain about the long hours and low pay. Farmers who once tended land on the property complain they were pushed off without proper compensation (a claim the park’s boosters deny). Many of those living around the park now see it as the embodiment of the powerful Clintons’ disconnect. “They go to the park, but they don’t come to our village, because they care more about the park,” said Cherline Pierre, a 33-year-old resident who signs up would-be laborers near her home, a few miles from the park’s high gates.

All a reader plowing through the email tranche can do is wonder, what might have gone differently had Chelsea Clinton’s insights reached more people in real time, and if the Clintons had applied more of them to themselves. “I wish this had been made public when it was sent,” Ramachandran said of the report. “It might have helped.”

#Haiti #NGO's in Haiti #The Clintons’ Haiti Screw-Up #As Told By Hillary’s Emails #hillary clinton #us department of injustice #us state department #stealing from Haiti #CARACOL #United Nations

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