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#but nonetheless I thought it would be interesting to share
vivit-s · 9 months
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Why Not Me? | Written Piece
Content Warnings: Parentification/emotional neglect, exploration of mourning/grief, referenced suicide, unhealthy (& possibly sanist) views towards suicide/depression,
Author's Note: Since this is the first of these I'll be posting, let it be known that none of these writing pieces are necessary to grasp Vivit, but are simply bonus material that give a better look into the characters the way that my animatics may not.
This piece may contain spoilers. I don't think I'll have the time to explore this facet of Samuel and Vida's relationship in depth, hence why I've decided to post it, but this does contain material that hasn't been explored in my youtube content. If you want to avoid potentially risking a surprise for later content, then do not read.
Also as an obvious, what is written does not reflect my own views, only that of our characters. Vivit has never been a light story, and none of these characters are fully good people. If it makes you uncomfortable, good, that's the point. Please read at your own discretion.
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“She meant… so much to me.”
“I know.”
Vida had heard as much millions of times by then. It was routine—down to their father crying in their arms on his bed as they just sat there, unmoving, uncertain; the icon of stoicism that they needed to be for the both of them, because if it wasn’t them, who else would it be?
“I could’ve—I could’ve saved her. She didn’t—”
“Dad, no,” they hushed, as quiet and sweet as they could manage despite their increasing annoyance, “It’s not your fault.”
It truly wasn’t. They hated the self loathing he held, the insistence he was capable of doing more, and all the more hated their mother for leaving the two of them alone, because it wasn’t fair. They shouldn’t have to be taking their father’s shaking hands in theirs, to be whispering soothing words as he slurred over his declarations of blame. They did it anyway, because they loved him, more than heaven and earth and certainly more than she ever did if they were still standing while she was dead. 
“It is,” he insisted, voice straining as he spoke, “I should’ve… should’ve done more to stop her, fuck, I—”
He broke into sobs again, and all they could do was hold him. They held back their own tears—from feeling powerless, hopeless, frustrated that all they could do was offer sympathetic stock phrases and offer what physical comfort they could. They were supposed to make him feel better, they were supposed to be the one to fix things, but they never could. Not with this.
And the yearned nothing more to say the truth—that their mother must’ve been heartless to subject him to something so cruel. Because how selfish could someone be to take their own life when they had a goddamn family—a husband who’d done nothing wrong and a child who would never even get to know her. She wasn’t someone worth his tears because if she loved him, really, truly, she would’ve stayed.
But they don’t. Because that’s not what the narrative is. She’s the saint, the woman that was too good for this cruel world. The definition of purity, the love of his life, the special someone that had never, in her life, done anything wrong and was somehow deserving of over a decade’s worth of pity. They don’t get it. They don’t understand why he’s not angry. But they’re not supposed to. They did as always, frowned, offered empty reassurances, because nothing else could be done. She was 10 feet under and no misplaced sympathy was bringing her back.
“Please—promise, promise you won’t leave me.”
He looked at them with the kind of desperation they were only granted in moments such as that night. They despised having to go through the motions as though they hadn’t so many times before—as if between the last time and that moment (4 entire days, if one could believe it), their mind had miraculously changed. 
But it’s not about them. It’s never about them. So they play along.
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
They know their father needs reassurance more than ever because he’s afraid, but it doesn’t make it sting any less—that he still can’t trust them, that he still fears that they’d be gone in an instant. They wouldn’t—couldn’t put him through that same heartache again. They were better than that. They loved him more than that.
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poetskings · 2 months
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@jegulus-microfic | April 18: sock | 1.6k
James is sexiled and decides to spend time with Regulus.
There’s a sock on the door knob.
It’s been a long day and James is tired and there’s a fucking sock on the door knob and if he listens close enough he can hear soft grunts.
He’s happy for Sirius and Remus, really, he is, he just wishes that they’d fuck at Remus’ every now and then, and at least keep it to the bedroom.
Sirius and James share a college flat with Peter, Marlene and Lily, so there aren’t many options when they’re all out. Today,  James knows that Peter and Lily have chess club, and Marlene’s training for the women’s boat race, so it’s only him who’d be around.
He sighs and turns around, sending Regulus a text as he goes.
Been sexiled – your dorm free?
He’s walking before he’s received a response – he’s almost positive that the answer will be ‘yes’, and he hasn’t seen Regulus in a week, so they’re long overdue a catch up.
Their friendship was one of the more unexpected things to come out of Regulus bucking centuries of Black tradition and instead following in his brother’s footsteps, choosing Cambridge over Oxford. He settled in nicely to Corpus Christi, flying through his first few years as a history undergraduate while Sirius and James chose Trinity instead.
It took a while but slowly and tentatively Sirius and Regulus attempted to heal their relationship, strained by Regulus’ years at Harrow after Sirius packed up and left when he was sixteen, dropping out and enrolling at a local state school instead. They’re much better now; their barbs at each other aren’t quite as jagged. There’s love there, now, rather than just animosity.
As Regulus and Sirius attempted to mend their relationship, James and Remus had been called in early on to mediate, or sometimes it was Regulus’ friends, Evan and Barty, or even Pandora. From those early tentative meetings in neutral territory, new and interesting friendships bloomed, most of all between Regulus and James.
From early study sessions, it evolved into coffee dates and library outings, and when Remus and Sirius sorted their shit out it became even more frequent – the pair never make James feel like a third wheel, but nonetheless they deserve time to themselves, even if James would prefer for them not to fuck on every and any available surface in their dorm.
Regulus is a comforting presence for James; he doesn’t demand anything of him. James is naturally an extrovert; always the centre of a room, but sometimes he needs to recharge, and Regulus lets him do that. He reminds James of calm waters on a spring day, and whenever James needs to quiet his mind, he finds the youngest Black. He only hopes he offers Regulus some of the same comfort in return.
That, and maybe something more. Maybe he hopes that one day there’s a sock on his door knob, and that the reason is Regulus..
James is drawn out of his thoughts as his phone dings.
Sure – text me when you’re here, will come meet you
It’s a five-minute walk but James makes it there in two, calling Regulus to get him to buzz him in. He’s a familiar figure amongst the second years at Corpus, and he’s pretty sure a few of them will have also texted the youngest Black to alert him to James’ presence.
The college door opens and Regulus emerges, dressed in sweatpants and a Trinity rowing sweatshirt that James left last time he was over. He’s so lovely, James thinks, an impulse he doesn’t know how to control; isn’t sure he wants to control it.
“Sexiled, huh?” Regulus holds the door open as James steps through, falling into step with each other and walking up a flight of stairs to reach Regulus’ dorm. It’s empty, although that isn’t uncommon for Regulus. Barty and Evan hold unsociable hours, and Regulus, Pandora and Dorcas have a frankly insane amount of extracurriculars to attend, so they’re rarely together.
“There was a sock on the front door and I’m pretty sure I could hear noises so I didn’t want to risk it,” James says, settling himself in the kitchen, finding Regulus’ mug and a new one with a deer in glasses; a ‘congratulations’ for James’ performance in the inter-college boat races that’s become a permanent fixture in Regulus’ dorm.
He locates the teabags; Yorkshire for James, organic for Regulus, before turning back to the mugs.
“I don’t blame you – those two seem to spend more time fucking than not – it’s a minor miracle they get any work done,” Regulus chuckles, gently bumping James’ hip to get to the fridge, taking out his oat milk and James’ rice milk.
They settle into the routine like it’s second nature; they’re familiar with each other in a way that’s almost intimate. They stand together waiting for the kettle to boil, perhaps a bit too close for it to be entirely platonic, but James isn’t going to move away if Regulus doesn’t.
He always feels like they’re teetering on the edge of something more than what they are, something better, but for all of James’ bravery, he isn’t sure how to make the next move, and he doesn’t want to wreck this peace that Regulus and his brother have been working so hard on.
“So, how was your day?” Regulus asks, tilting his head to better look at James. He looks unbelievably soft in James’ jumper and James thinks that if he just moves his pinkie he can link it with Regulus’.
“Exhausting. I had rowing first thing and a few readings to do for my supervision that I’d completely missed,” James sighs. He loves his degree but he’s never been as organised as Regulus, who seems to have work done almost before it’s set. “Also, I spent a solid ten minutes looking for that jumper.”
A light blush creeps up Regulus’ cheeks at that. “Sorry, you left it here after practice last week so I washed it but completely forgot to text you.”
A smile falls across James’ face. “You’re fine, Reg, and besides, it suits you. I guess I should get myself a Corpus one to match, huh?” He smirks as the red of Regulus’ cheeks becomes more pronounced.
The kettle whistles and Regulus turns away from James to fill their cups. “James Potter, behave yourself.” He hip checks James again, this time with a bit more force. Except he doesn’t move back. He stays there, leaning against James, and James feels like his entire body’s a livewire.
The tightrope they’re walking is getting more taut, and James finds himself eager for the fall.
“But Regulus, dearest, where’s the fun in that?” He leans forward, entirely too close for it to be platonic, and Regulus is turning, turning-
“Ow! Fuck!” James forgot about the fact that Regulus was holding a kettle of boiling water, and he’s paying for that now. Water splashes over the counter as Regulus rushes to put the kettle down, taking James’ hand and leading him over to the tap.
He turns the cold water tap on, letting it flow over their entwined hands. He is too still, too silent, and James wants to go back to where they were. He wants the tightrope back. He wants to fall.
He can be brave, he thinks, if it means he gets to have something with Regulus.
Regulus is staring intently at their entwined hands, like it’s the most fascinating thing in the universe, and James breaks the silence.
“Reg-”
“What are we doing, James? We’ve been tiptoeing around each other for weeks and it’s driving me insane and I want to be around you all the time and I think I’m already half in love with you so I’d love if you can clear up what this is,” he states, false bravado injected into his tone, but James can hear the tremors. He’s so nervous, but so brave. Regulus Black, the Lion Heart.
It takes a while for the words to register in James’ head.
Oh.
Oh.
James removes his hand from the running water, ignoring the slight sting and the inevitable burn that will be left. He cups Regulus’ cheek, forcing the younger boy to look at him. Regulus is terrified, but so hopeful.
“Reg, I- I want-” James runs his hand through his hair in frustration. He can’t get his words out.
“Jamie?” Regulus’ voice is so soft, as though he’s worried he’ll scare James off, and the only thing James can do is kiss him.
Regulus’ lips are rough, a bit chapped from where he nibbles on them when he’s nervous. He tastes of tea and cinnamon and James wants to devour him. There is nothing soft about it. James’ tongue darts out, soothing Regulus’ lips, and the younger boy lets out a moan that’s pure filth and ecstasy and James is falling, falling, fallen.
He wants to do this forever.
His hands find their way to Regulus’ waist, tracing the skin underneath the Trinity sweater that’s been driving James insane since he first saw Regulus wearing it. It’s his, it’s him.
They break apart to breathe and James attaches his lips to Regulus’ neck, marking, claiming. He can’t think beyond this moment, beyond the boy in front of him.
“Jamie, we should- we need to-” he cuts himself off, broken sighs escaping his lips as he tangles his hands in James’ hair.
James reluctantly removes himself from Regulus’ neck, taking the boy’s face in his hands. “Do you want this, Reg? Do you want me?”
Regulus’ eyes trace James’ face, and whatever he sees softens him.
“Always, Jamie.” And James is lost.
They’ll talk about it later, as the sunlight paints the walls of Regulus’ room, but this is enough for now. For ever.
And if Barty finds a sock on the door knob when he comes back from the library, well, that’s between him and Regulus.
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nisuna · 3 months
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Mouth watering 🤤🤤 I'm really in the mood to turn this into a full-length fic, but my porn with plot stuff usually doesn't do that well, so here's some of my thoughts instead<3 Depending on if this does well or not I might do it! (But, tbh I might do it regardless because I love this idea and it's one of my top favourite scenarios to think about 👀👀 so who knows? Maybe some of you will find this interesting. Please lmk!)
[part 1 & part 2 of this AU]
TW: cult leader!Geto x non-sorcerer!f!reader, oral f&m receiving, period sex and oral, breeding kink, power imbalance, dumbification, public sex, mentions of pregnancy, different positions, name calling, degradation, mirror sex, virginity loss, manipulation
<3masterlist<3
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--------------------18+ ONLY MDNI--------------------
cult leader!geto, who didn't pay much attention to you at first when you came to his shrine with the nasty little curse on your shoulder that's been plaguing you for the past few weeks. cl!geto who wanted to have as little to do with people like you and disposed of it with the snap of his fingers.
A weight was literally lifted off your shoulder as you smiled and reached out to grab his hands to thank him, bowing your head. Usually, he would've pulled his hands away and politely told you off not to touch him. But he allowed it this once. There was something about you he couldn't put his finger on just yet. Who would've thought that if he hadn't done that, it would've never come to this.
cl!geto, who noticed you coming back each week with a new complaint, immediately seeing right through your lies, but indulging you nonetheless. cl!geto, who grew increasingly interested in you, inviting you over to show you his organisation.
cl!geto, who made you suck his cock on the first occasion he got. you were so obediend and dumb. he got off on how naive and blinded you were by him, your lord and savior.
cl!geto, who was taken aback when you confessed you were still a virgin. cl!geto who made a religious ritual out of taking your virginity, manipulating and fucking you stupid from then on out.
cl!geto, who enjoyed you doing all the work while riding or squatting on his cock. cl!geto who fucked you mercilessly, saying it was for the greater good of the organisation. cl!geto, who started fucking and eating you out while you were on your period, saying you were his blood sacrifice. and who were you to deny your lord.
cl!geto, who started fucking you more vigurously himself. be it from behind or with him on top. any position that asserted dominance over you, he tried. and he made sure to let you know how much of a lowlife you were compared to him. and you just nodded, blinking up at him through your eyelashes as you sucked on his thick fingers.
"You're so good for me, pet. Keep going."
pet, he called you because that's all you were to him. you were his plaything, nothing more.
cl!geto whose huge hands would roam your body however they pleased. his long fingers working you open until you were ready to take him. cl!geto, who loved feeling your soft and tiny body against his massive frame. cl!geto who would relish in seeing his thick cock through your belly whenever he fucked you so deeply, you could almost feel his tip hit your cervix.
cl!geto who made a public display of fucking you in front of his followers. cl!geto who marked you up with purple marks for everyone to see. however, some didn't understand why he chose you of all people voicing their disapproval. cl!geto, who over time grew fond of a lowly human like you but kept denying his growing feelings for you.
cl!geto, who didn't think it would bother him as much as it did when someone else tried to touch you. his followers starting to see you as public property, which was meant to be shared. cl!geto who felt his blood boil when someone dared to kiss you in front of him, taunting him that he fell in love with a non-sorcerer, which only earned the person a slap across their face as he pulled you close.
"No, it can't be." he thought as the person laughed," Oh, so it is true!" cl!geto, who was shocked when you spoke up.
"Of course not, that couldn't be! Right, Geto-sama?" right, he couldn't fall for someone like you. you were the very thing he swore to destroy. this shouldn't have happened.
gl!geto who avoided kissing you and only saw sex as an act of service and obedience. cl!geto, whose eyes widened in shock when you accidentally leaned in, cradling his face in your hands when you got too overwhelmed with pleasure as he came deep inside.
when you snapped out of it, you were terrified. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Geto-sama, please forgive me-"
as you were about to pull your hands away from his face, he stopped you. you were trembling in his grasp, expecting the worst. but you were surprised by him pressing his lips against yours and holding your hand in place on his cheek. the kiss was hungry, his tongue prying your mouth open and all you could do was moan and just take it.
"You surprised me for sure, pet. But let's continue, I quite liked it.", he mumbled.
as you were making out, you felt him harden inside of you again.
cl!geto, who thought "fuck it", abandoning his principles each time he crashed his lips against yours and made you cream on his cock over and over.
cl!geto, who got tired of hearing you moan "geto-sama" like all of his other followers and made you call him suguru whenever you two were alone.
"AH- Geto-sama"
"Try Suguru."
"Su- what? Geto-sama, I couldn't possibly, that's too-"
"Do it for me. I wish to hear you say it. But only in the bedroom, this is between you and me only.
"I-if you wish so, I will try. S-suguru..sama."
cl!geto, who soon deemed you worthy of carrying his offspring and telling you how big of an honour it was. cl!geto who filled you up over and over. and you taking it so well, always begging for more.
cl!geto who would fuck you in front of the mirror while groaning into your ear.
"Look at you, I can't wait until I can see you plump with my children."
cl!geto who didn't stop fucking you even throughout your pregnancy. cl!geto who got incredibly aroused at the sight of your body and belly plumpening up over time.
cl!geto, who massaged your aching breasts and hips religiously every night. cl!geto who stopped fucking you in front of everyone and stopped showing you off as he wanted to have you all to himself.
cl!geto, who began questioning his whole mission, when you first confessed your love for him. cl!geto, who soon gave in and said that he loved you as well for the first time.
"I'm a man of exceptional greed. If I had it my way, I would have you look and smile at me only."
cl!geto, who got incredibly protective over you. "Don't ever go anywhere without me."
"Where could I possibly want to go without you?", you mumbled, falling asleep in his arms.
cl!geto, who was overjoyed when he saw his child having your eyes and his features. cl!geto, who made his followers worship you just as much as they did him. cl!geto, who threatened and intimidated anyone who refused.
cl!geto, who made you his wife and mother of many more of his children.
cl!geto, who never stopped loving you until his final breath.
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I'd love to hear your thoughts!!<3
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saltywritings · 3 months
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The Bonds of Blood (Aegon Targaryen II x Reader) Dark Content
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Summary: Aegon visits Aemond's wife at night.
Warnings: very dark fic, noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, slight stalking, envy, descriptive smut, blackmail, and trickery. adults only.
You've been married to Aemond for three lunar cycles now. He had shown glimpses of kindness in his own way… when he was present. Yet, to call him merely "kind" felt too generous—he merely existed. He was passive, seemingly disengaged. You endeavored to spark his interest. You inquired about his dragon and extended offers to share books with him. Nevertheless, the moments spent together felt devoid of life. Even amidst conversation, the emptiness hung heavy in the air.
Passion was absent, and intimate moments were few and far between, lacking any semblance of desire. His gaze scarcely met yours, and his departures were swift. The only instances when Aemond displayed any semblance of spousal behavior were in the presence of his elder brother. It seemed as though Aemond harbored a tinge of jealousy towards Aegon, perhaps protective of you from his brother's attention. Despite Aegon being among the few at court who showed genuine interest in you, Aemond repeatedly cautioned his brother to steer clear of his wife. Nonetheless, Aegon's presence always found its way back to you, defying Aemond's warnings.
At times, you found yourself pondering the possibilities of a different marriage, yet you endeavored to remain grateful that your husband was not cruel or violent. Despite this, the weight of duty pressed heavily upon you. Three moons had passed, and still, your womb remained empty, testing the limits of your hope. This was of course until the night you woke up.
As your eyes begun to flutter you first noticed the pressure on your body. The rhythmic creaking of the bed caught your attention, though initially, you were uncertain of its cause. This was until you could feel him, inside of you. He was engulfed in you, your tight pussy clinging around him. Aching for a sensation that he, your husband, had not provided you with this moon. A moan had parted from your lips, remaining in your throat as you pushed yourself up slightly.
"A-Aemond?" You questioned; a hand quickly pushed down on your back, holding you down against the bed. Your body obeyed, though your lips continued to spill the sweet sounds of desire.
There was a feeling inside of you. It was unfamiliar, foreign. A tightening deep within your womanhood that clung around your husbands length.
"A-Aemond, I-I-"You did not even know how to form words to explain what was happening, however, his hand hard against your back his length continued. Hard, smashing into you as you begun to spasm around him. Your first release would consume you- It made sounds that never left your lips bounce on the stone walls of the room causing him to push your face down into the bed to silence you. His trust quickened and soon you could feel him fill you.
This feeling was familiar, the other was not. You could feel his seed, sticky and thick, as he fucked every last drop into you. His trust becoming lazy as he kept you pushed down on the bed. He stayed there like that and while you wanted to question him you could not move. When he did pull himself from you he left the room before you could even fully turn around. Leaving you to sleep, sticky, and unaware of what your husband's brother had just done to you.
For you had thought that your husband had come to your room, late at night, to finally fulfil his desires . . . or his duty. Regardless you were finally happy to be fulfilling yours.
Aegon would come to you when you were asleep each day that week. He pushed you down on the mattress, face down, and always left without saying a word.
Tonight was no exception for Aegon. He had managed to slip into your room undetected, pausing for a moment at the foot of the bed. As you slumbered, as you often did, he couldn't help but notice how your features seemed almost angelic in the moonlight, reminiscent of a painting he had once seen of the Mother. Aegon's eyes were fixated on your chest, watching your breast as they rose and fell with your breathing. What he would give to fuck you in the day light. Aegon crept onto the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he deftly peeled away the blankets. Your legs were apart, waiting for him, he was certain.
Aegon normally flipped you over but tonight was different. He could not resist, for his hands carefully removed your undergarments. He brought them to his face and took an inhale of your sweet scent. His cock had become rock hard, stirring in his trousers as he brought them down. He did not wat a moment longer, for he soon pushed down on your thighs and slid himself inside of you. Even after nights of stuffing himself inside of you, your cunt was deliciously tight. Aegon begun to thrust into you, concerned about his own pleasure.
Your body became tense with him inside you, he watched as your face contorted; soft sounds falling from your lips as he thrusted into you.
The sensation was no longer unfamiliar. As you stirred from your slumber, you found yourself beginning to embrace the feeling. Yet, as your eyelids fluttered open, you gazed upward. For the first time since your husband had started visiting you at this late hour, you were able to meet his gaze. However, now eye to eye, you were able to see that this was not your husband. It was Aegon who had welcomed himself into your body, hands gripping on your waist as he spit you on his cock, grunting into you, and filling you with his seed each night.
"A-Aegon!" You asked in an out rage, a smile creeping on his lips as he placed his hand over your mouth.
"Shh-" He ordered as he started to thrust into you at an accelerated rate. Without mercy. You were tightening around him, involuntarily. You were trying to fight off the feeling of your own release; tears had been pooling in the corners of your eyes as you whimpered for mercy.
There was no mercy here.
Aegon knew what you were doing and continued until you spasmed around him causing him to hum. "Good Girl." He cooed to you, taking his fingers and now shoving them into your mouth. Looking at you, your hole full of his cock and another full of his fingers. "Fucking look at you, getting fucked by your husbands brother. You whore." Aegon said in a grunt as he continued his speed, slowing down slightly to savor this moment.
"You love this, don't you?" Aegon asked, his fingers pushing down on your tongue, causing you to gag on his fingers. You could not answer, you didn't have to. The slickness between your legs said more than any defense you would have given.
"Ah, Gods- I'm close. It's so hard to last inside you." Aegon spoke in a grunt as he continued to fuck you teasingly slow. "Aemond doesn't know what he's missing." He continued on.
Aegon would pick up his speed, unable to hold off any longer as he soon tense his body, his cock spasming inside of you. "Fuck- fucking milk me you whore." Aegon says as he fills you, ensuring that not a drop of his seed is leaking out of you, his free hand pushing down on your thigh so you have no option but to take it. He soon pulls his finger from your mouth and slowly unsheathes his cock from within you.
Aegon turns over to you and without a moment hesitation informs you, "You'll have to fuck Aemond here soon, convince him that he actually managed to get you pregnant."
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hannieehaee · 20 days
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Hi, I think it would be interesting if you did too the pov of the member masturbating, from that hc with another member gf
masturbating to another member's gf
content: smut, masturbation, mentions of afab reader, second hand embarrassment, etc.
wc: 1619
a/n: a few people requested this sorry i took so long</3
masterlist
seungcheol -
vernon was practically his little brother, of course seungcheol never meant to look at his pretty girlfriend in a way any more than innocent. it hadnt been his fault that he had accidentally walked in on the two of you having sex that one time. even after the awkward aftermath of the event, cheol couldnt get the image of your nude body out of his mind. how could he when you looked and sounded so gorgeous as vernon took care of you? you soon became the main character of his fantasies, making him helpless in breathing out your name every so often when he'd jack off late at night. it seemed karma was real, though, as he became the next person to be caught in a compromising position, and by you and your boyfriend nonetheless.
jeonghan -
jeonghan was the epitome of thinking quick on his feet. due to this, people always saw him as a guy with great intellect, rarely ever caught off guard. this ability did not, however, translate over to when he was in deep slumber. he had no idea that he had been inadvertently moaning out your name these past few nights as he shared a room with you and chan due to a shortage of rooms at the resort the group had been renting out for the week. unaware, but having soaked his boxers with cum, he was mortified to realize that his sex dream had been evident to more than just himself.
joshua -
by some strange act of god, soonyoung had somehow scored who joshua thought to be one of the prettiest girls he had ever laid eyes on; you. now, joshua was a respectable man, with some of the best manners anyone had ever seen. this, however, did not prevent a few perverted thoughts from plaguing his mind late at night when nothing seemed to get him off. it was in these occasions that he thought back to you and how pretty you looked that specific day, quietly groaning your name in hopes that no one would hear him. sadly, this occurrence became a bit more common than planned, and soonyoung was already aware of this depraved habit of joshua's. feeling a bit embarrassed for the guy, he chose to keep it to himself, simply being a little extra touchy with you whenever joshua was around to assert his dominance in a subtle way.
jun -
he was an actor for fuck's sakes, so why was it so hard for him to put on a face whenever you were around? and why the hell was his cock just not cooperating with him? it's not like he'd never seen a pretty girl in a bikini before, so why was his dick so damn tall and proud at the sight of you getting sunscreen applied to your back (all the way to your ass) by seungcheol? there was no way he could let anyone see his boner, so the best solution had been to lock himself in the restroom and jerk one off. it wouldve all been discreet and entirely fine if it hadnt been for you walking by later on, coming in upon hearing him call your name, seungcheol trailing right behind you. yeah, that's when he knew he was thoroughly fucked.
soonyoung -
he swore he hadnt meant to let his mind wander so far off. he'd never want to make neither you nor jihoon feel uncomfortable because of him, it was just that ... fuck, you were so fucking pretty. usually soonyoung would leave the jacking off for whenever he was home and alone, but it just so happened that you looked so soft and pretty earlier when he'd walked into jihoon's studio and found you sleeping on the couch, tiny little tank top allowing him to see your mushed tits as you breathed softly. running to the nearest bathroom to jack off had merely been a survival tactic, he just hadnt expected jihoon to have been on the other stall, hearing every low groan of your name he let out ...
wonwoo -
when you had decided to join the guys on vacation to a secluded resort, wonwoo hadn't expected you to be so liberal in your use of bathing suits. i mean, it was practically lingerie! not that he wanted to shame you or anything, but you were making his life far too difficult. difficult enough for him to not be able to hold back and jerk one off after spending hours next to you, almost in the nude. the most unfortunate bit, though, had been the realization the next morning that your boyfriend jun had heard him, and now he would have to deal with his teasing for the rest of the vacation.
jihoon -
despite the shame he felt at it, jacking off to the thought of you had sort of become a regular occurrence for jihoon. whether he simply pictured you in his head or used some of your instagram photos for inspiration, this was something he did at least once a week. but it all came to an abrupt halt the day mingyu had stormed into his studio without warning, catching jihoon red handed as his hand played under his sweats and his phone shone with a pretty picture of you on display. it was safe to say that this would be the last time he ever thought of you in such way, too mortified by mingyu's constant complaints about it ever since.
seokmin -
seokmin had always been quite sensitive when it came to becoming aroused. it was the easiest thing for him to get hard, specially when the source of his desire was as delectable as joshua's girlfriend. maybe it was the proximity he had with you as joshua brought you along on tour, but you were simply causing him far too many boners to be considered normal. at some point, it had become a nuisance to him how often he'd have to interrupt his daily schedule to rub one off. it got so bad to the point where he'd been caught by a few members already, though thankfully it had been before he got really into it, murmuring your name under his breath when he was about to finish. sadly, however, this streak of not being caught did not last too long, leading to a very awkward encounter as joshua walked into his room unsuspecting, in search of dk's camera but instead finding him groaning his girlfriend's name as he stroked himself.
mingyu -
mingyu knew he shouldve denied minghao's offer to tag along with the two of you on a short stay to los angeles. but could he really be blamed? he loved la's scene and loved spending time with his friend. what he did not take into account was how thin walls were in america, meaning that he'd have to go to bed being able to hear the two of you through the walls night after night, unknowing in the fact that you could also hear him loud and clear as he jerked off, groaning your name in sync with your own moans of minghao's name.
minghao -
as composed and well put together as minghao was, he did carry some weaknesses, with you being the biggest one as of late. it all started when you had joined the boys at the gym a few weeks ago, donning some tiny spandex and a sports bra, drenched in sweat and with a heavy breath to match. the sight left nothing to minghao's imagination, causing you to become a recurring dream of his. sadly, his weakness for you did not remain a secret for long, as he lost sight of himself masturbating to the thought of you just as seungkwan walked by his door, catching an earful of your name being moaned by another man. this led to a loud gasp from seungkwan and a very inconvenient interruption of minghao's gratification, now having to deal with an scandalized seungkwan instead.
seungkwan -
of course a boy as handsome as wonwoo would score someone as pretty as you. it just made sense to seungkwan. however, your status as wonwoo's girlfriend still did not prevent seungkwan's mind from wandering any time you'd stay over at the dorms, coming down to the kitchen in nothing but a bralette and wonwoo's boxers, flaunting all the beauty seungkwan fantasized about at night. and unfortunately for everyone involved, his fantasies could sometimes be a bit loud, leading both you and wonwoo to hear him through the wall late at night, opting to ignore the situation as to not embarrass the poor boy.
vernon -
having one of his best friends walk in on him as he jerked off to one particularly racy picture you had posted a few weeks back was not something vernon ever expected, yet here he was, dick in hand as dokyeom yelled in surprise at the sight. after a very long and exasperated conversation that consisted of endless apologies from him and exaggerated scoldings from seokmin, the two of them decided to never bring up this incident ever again.
chan -
chan knew it was wrong the first time he had jacked off with you in mind. you were jeonghan's girlfriend, of course it was wrong. but his horniness overtook his critical thinking, which led him to the most embarrassing moment of his life. not only had you walked into the room at hearing him call out your name, but your boyfriend was trailing right behind you. despite seeing a mocking smile on his friend's face at the sight, he saw a shocked and blushy expression in you, which was something that would cause him second hand embarrassment every time he thought back to that moment.
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bloompompom · 4 months
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Vengeful Hearts Club
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♡ content: ~2.7k word count. eren jaeger x fem!reader, infidelity (reader's ex-boyfriend cheated), grinding, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex, consensual recording, rough sex, dirty talk, revenge, alcohol, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ ♡ a/n: just a quick lil something-something for valentine's day
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What were you supposed to do when you found out your (ex-)boyfriend was cheating on you days before Valentine’s Day?
Easy: you fuck his friend. 
Admittedly, the stunt wasn’t that calculated. And if you were to debate semantics, the real answer to that question was to cancel your dinner reservation, which you did between sobs.
But once you pulled yourself together, you decided it was time to rip the bandage off, move on, and fuck someone else—because he certainly had. Twice, actually. The first time was a drunken accident, he told you, then the second was on purpose, but only because they ‘just so happened’ to bump into each other again.
Yeah, right. 
If your ex could move on—while he was still in a relationship with you, nonetheless—then you could, too. On a whim, you redownloaded a couple of dating apps and dusted off your old profiles. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, just swiping and swiping and swiping. You were giving into meaningless conversations in hopes they would lead to even more meaningless sex. But that never happened. No one held your attention for a day. No one’s witty one-liners were all that witty. No one remotely excited you until…
Eren Jaeger. 
You were about to swipe his profile away on impulse, but something in you gave you pause. You moved your thumb aside to look at his face, only in the first photo, but that led to the second, then the one after that. 
You couldn’t say your ex’s friend was the first person you had in mind, but now that you had no ties left to him, you could finally confess you found Eren attractive. Up until now, it was merely a forbidden thought, one you had stowed away since you were first introduced. You wouldn’t dare finish the sentence, even in the sanctity of your mind, because that would make you a bad girlfriend. Eren was strictly off-limits.
Now, you could argue it was more of a grey area, which only made him all the more interesting to you. Maybe it was karma, how the universe ‘just so happened’ to drop Eren into your lap.
No, it had to be karma because why else would it have been an instant match between you? Eren had already made his choice. Dug his own grave, so to speak. But it was you who decided you would make this mess together. 
Didn’t think I’d see you on here.
You wondered if Eren even knew about the breakup, let alone the details of it. You made it crystal clear for him.
I didn’t think I’d have to dump your friend for cheating on me, but here we are :)
His reply: Fuck, you serious? I’m sorry.
It arrived in two separate messages, and strangely enough, it disarmed you. Not because of his sentiment but because of the familiarity, the specific sense of comfort he evoked. For once, it wasn’t a grueling performance where each of you would spend no less than fifteen minutes crafting every message. 
You knew Eren well enough—about as well as anyone knew their boyfriend’s friends, as deep as conversations shared in loud sports bars. When you thought about meeting up with him, your stomach didn’t pit the way it did when you imagined a stranger. 
So I figured I deserved to have a little fun now that I’m single.
You weren’t forthright with it, but the intent was obvious enough. And God, it sent him absolutely reeling. From Eren’s perspective, you were entirely off-limits. Like blaring horns and flashing-red-lights level of off-limits. He couldn’t just go and fuck his friend’s ex-girlfriend!
But he was going to. 
Which brought you to tonight; not just any old Friday night, but Valentine’s Day. You could have complained about it, but getting drinks with Eren consoled your ego more than spending the day alone. Though you could do without the incidental comments mistaking you and Eren as a lovestruck couple. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day. You make a stunning couple, by the way,” the bartender said. Earnestly, too, in the way you could tell she wasn’t just doing her job. 
“That’s all her,” Eren replied, tossing you a cheeky grin.
Okay, maybe the night wasn’t all that bad. 
Halfway through your second drink, you drummed up the courage to ask the question you weren’t sure you wanted to hear the answer to. 
Stirring your drink, you asked, “You didn’t know about it, did you?”
You didn’t need to specify what ‘it’ was before Eren answered, “Of course not.”
You found relief knowing you weren’t the only clueless one, the person ambling around with the ‘kick me!’ note taped to your back for everyone’s entertainment. 
“Of course not,” you repeated. A confident answer if you’d ever heard one. You sat higher in your seat, interested. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, I would’ve told him to come clean about it. Any of us would’ve,” Eren said, listing a few of your mutual friends. Well, they were just your ex’s friends now; you had nothing in common with them anymore.
“And,” his gaze lifted from the drink swirling in his hand to you, “maybe I was waiting for you to break up.”
Your eyes narrowed, but your smile widened. “Why?”
“You’re full of questions tonight,” he said with a slight laugh. He took a long sip. “Isn’t the answer kinda obvious?”
Between the lines, you read: Because I wanted tonight to happen. Because I wanted to get with you. Because I want to fuck you. 
You tossed back the rest of your drink, slammed it back onto the bartop with, “Your place then?”
And that was exactly how you wound up back at his apartment, in his bed. With limbs strewn amongst tousled sheets. With legs pulled apart and his hand between, fingers buried inside you, working in tandem with his thumb against your clit.
You could hardly hold your eyes open, only catching glimpses of him fucking you with his fingers through fluttering eyes. He’d found a rhythm you could only describe as mind-numbing, leaving you desperate and twitchy in his arms. 
It didn’t take long for him to get you nearly there; for either of you to get each other half-naked, with him stripped to his boxers, and you with panties still circling your ankle, shirt shoved over your tits; for him to have you slick with hot desire after a few chaste kisses placed thoughtfully against your neck. 
It had been over a year, nearly two, since you’d last been with anyone other than your ex-boyfriend. You’d forgotten the dizzying rush that came along with it. The exhilaration of someone new’s hands exploring your body for the first time, discovering the parts they like best. Every touch came as a surprise, keeping you teetering the edge in the best way possible, with your mouth slack and gasping, and your skin prickling in delight.
You puffed an exhale when Eren slipped his fingers from you. It was a much-needed moment of respite, allowing you to steady your shallow breaths, but you ached for release just as much, squeezing your thighs together like you could replicate the loss. 
Eren indulged himself with a taste, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. Before you could register it, he used the same fingers to grasp your jaw, angling you for a kiss. Heat radiated through your stomach as you tasted yourself, the muscles clenching hotly as his tongue rolled against yours. 
You lightly pushed him down onto his back and crawled atop. You straddled him, perched on your knees as you worked his boxers down until they were out of your way. His cock bounced to tap his lower stomach, only for you to ignore it. 
You made yourself comfortable, palms flattened to his chest, with your cunt settled against his ungiving abdominals. You rocked your hips, teasing not only him but yourself as you showed him just how wet, how warm, you were. 
You made a mess of him, your arousal coating his front and the pretty trail of hair leading to his insistent cock. Swollen and begging for your attention, you felt it resting against the curve of your ass, jolting with every one of your little movements, and your little moans to match. 
Sitting a bit higher this time, you took him in your hand and slipped him between you. You glided your soft cunt over the length of him, back and forth, your head lolling to one side as you enjoyed the steady pressure of the head of his cock nudging your clit. 
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Eren groaned. His voice lowered, grew breathier, encouraging you with every word.
He placed his hands on the tops of your thighs, squeezing and smoothing over them, guiding you from a languid pace to something less torturous. Your hips spasmed then, your mouth dropping to a small O for him to pop his thumb into, wetting it before circling your clit.
You were caught in the headrush, in the frissons pulsing through your being before overtaking you like a power surge. Something came over you, you didn’t know what, but when you decided you needed him inside you right then and there, you told him, “I have an idea.”
Despite his better judgment, Eren would probably do just about anything you asked if it meant he could fuck you. Even if it entailed him recording the act just to send to his friend in some sort of revenge scheme. 
He couldn’t tell if you were serious at first, but your eyes were full of purpose when you asked for his help a second time, throwing in a ‘pretty please’ and all. 
Eren knew he wasn’t thinking straight, but frankly, he didn’t care. Seeing you, like this, he found his friend an even bigger idiot than before. How could he possibly give this up?
So that was how he would justify sending his friend a video of him fucking his ex-girlfriend raw. 
Eren angled his phone so the camera only captured you from the waist down. The video would remain entirely anonymous to just about anyone—except you, Eren, and your ex. He wouldn’t need to see your face to recognize you; he would be able to tell even as you sat reverse cowgirl on Eren’s lap. He would recognize your giggle of a moan as Eren pinned your wrists against the dip in back with a single hand, and recognize your frantic whines as he began to fuck up into you.
While the video was intended for your ex, that didn’t mean Eren couldn’t film it for himself just as much. It was hedonistic, the way he spread the fat of your ass for a better view, filming how your pussy gripped him so fucking perfectly. He thumbed over your tight hole, letting the camera catch the cute way you flexed in response. Eren touched you wherever he pleased, every place your ex no longer could. 
He yanked you down on him, stealing your breath as you cried, “Oh, fuck, Eren. I’m gonna come.”
Eren watched you on the screen of his phone, watched how your body slacked with disappointment when he pulled out just shy of your orgasm. You thought it was an accident until he stopped you from putting it back in. You let out a pathetic whine of his name as your greedy cunt clenched around nothing.
“So impatient,” Eren tutted, his voice teeming with self-satisfaction as he stroked himself at the sight. 
He locked his phone and tossed it to the other side of the bed. It was becoming a needless distraction from what he really wanted. He sat upright, pushing you down onto all fours. 
If he was going to make you come, he wanted it to be on his face. 
You expected to feel his cock bullying at your entrance, but he met you with something much gentler: his tongue lapping a broad stripe through you. Your toes curled like he had licked a spark up your spine as he continued flicking and focusing on your clit.
He was methodic with it, dedicated to your undoing. He found the pressure you liked, the right speed, then he stuck to it. 
Your head dropped between your shoulders as you panted, “Ah, hah—that feels so fucking good. Don’t—don’t stop.”
He wouldn’t dream of it, licking and licking you until you came crashing down, quite literally. Your orgasm stole whatever strength remained in your wobbly elbows, and your chest collapsed to the bed. It put such a pretty arch in your back, your ass high in the air for Eren to push back inside your fluttering, now sopping cunt.
Your mouth fell open with a silent yelp, smothered by your cheek smushed in the sheets. You were so sensitive, whimpering with every maddening ram of his hips, but all you could think about was how you wanted a recording of this, the obscene sight in the mirror opposite you. 
Eren’s eyes were trained on your reflection, dedicated and concentrated as if you would disappear if he dared to look away. He was mesmerized by you, your body, every bounce of it as he tugged you back by your hips.
You caught his eye in the reflection, his sharpened gaze meeting your dreamy—or as he’d call it, fucked-out—one. You reached a hand back to try and touch him, fingertips barely grazing his thigh. 
“Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere,” Eren shushed softly, contrasting the harsh, deep, thrust that had your vision spotting white. 
You didn’t notice when his movements turned sloppy or how shameless he became in getting himself off the more it closed in on him. 
He curved a hand around your neck, just beneath your jaw. He tilted your head back to look at him, not with a choking force but with a caress of your face. It was tender despite the filthy way he asked you, “He never fucked you like this, did he? Never made you feel this good, like you deserved.”
You could only moan incoherently, but Eren felt his word’s effect on you. Your walls throbbed around him, like you were sucking him in for more. You wanted more. 
He pinched your cheeks together. “Tell me what you deserve.”
Your voice was a moony babble, barely-there whispers of, “To make you come. Please, Eren. Come for me.”
He moaned—practically whined—at your unexpected pleas, quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever heard. He didn’t last another second before pulling out just in time, pumping his come across your back.
You finally let your heavy limbs drop to the bed, shooting Eren a lazy smile over your shoulder. He breathlessly returned it, running a hand through his hair. He plucked a few tissues from his nightstand and wiped you off before you rolled onto your back. 
You watched the rise and fall of your chest, the valley between your breasts sporting a thin layer of sweat as you sweltered in the heady bedroom. You stayed like that for what felt like too long, leading Eren to worry he was too rough.
He propped himself on his elbow, pushing some of your hair from your face to get a good look at you. When he asked if you were okay, you assured him you were. You were only a bit dazy, basking in the comedown of it all. 
Eren remembered the recording and searched for his phone. He flipped through it, ready to ask if you seriously wanted him to send it to your ex-boyfriend (and secretly crossing his fingers you wouldn't ask him to delete it), when he interrupted himself with, “Fuck.”
“What?” you asked, unbothered and lying there with your eyes closed. 
“I didn’t press record,” he groaned. 
You shot upright. “Seriously?”
“Sorry, I was a little occupied,” he deflected. You pulled a face. “Listen, I’m just as disappointed as you. Trust me.”
You flopped back to the bed with a sigh. You supposed it didn’t matter much; who knew if you even had the courage to send it anyway?
Eren thought it over as another silent minute passed between you. He had already crossed the point of no return, so surely, there was no harm in innocently asking, "We could try again, you know?"
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thank you for reading xo
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autistichalsin · 4 months
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Halsin and abandonment issues
One thing I've come to conclude about Halsin's character, based on many parts of his story and some lines he says, is that he might have abandonment issues.
To begin with: he lost his entire family over the years to accidents and disease, per his writer. That's the kind of thing that leaves deep scars- watching everyone you love fade away over years, until at a "comparatively young age" you're the last of your family and turned over to the Druids to be taken care of. (His writer didn't specify an age, but if he was young enough to be "turned over to the Druids" instead of "finding his way there" then it is likely he was not an adult.) There's no time to lose your family that isn't absolutely horrible, but as a young person is far, far worse.
Then there's Halsin's other traumas, all of which involve isolation; he was a prisoner for three years in the Underdark, and despite this, no one thought to come looking for him to save him. He lost most of his fellow Druids in the battle against Ketheric Thorm and the Shadow Curse that followed- and what few didn't die, he still lost their friendship to his leadership position, the "weight of responsibility". His one lasting friend in all of this, Thaniel, was lost to the curse and Halsin spent over 100 years blaming himself, fighting to be the best leader he could at the Grove, and having no one at all he could lean on for any of his burdens. And then he wound up kidnapped again, this time by the goblins, and when he returns, almost all his Druids have been turned against him, some even holding him in contempt. All experiences that are isolating in nature and reinforce to him that he can't rely on anyone else, that he is the only person he can depend on, and that in the end, everyone he cares for is going to leave or die.
It's not just speculation that he feels that way, either. He has several lines about his survivor guilt and isolation:
"[...] there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time."
"[...] Grim as it is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory. I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost."
And lines that indicate he's used to being left, too.
If the player rejects him after he wildshapes (emphasis mine):
"Ah, I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then."
Saying "of course" implies it's not entirely unexpected.
After the final battle, if the player declines to have a celebration and says the party should split up:
"It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..."
He was expecting the party not to stick together.
Similarly, if a love-interest player breaks up with him in the ending:
"I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless. But that just means what we shared was precious, and will live on in my memory. Thank you - I am a richer man for having met you."
The "nothing lasts forever" really sells it, to me, especially because the context makes it clear that he isn't just making a general statement- he's talking about relationships and people. Again- he was expecting it all to end.
His worry in the epilogue, when a solo-romanced player comes to the party with him, hints at this even more: "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me."
He's surprised that the player, even if they're in love, would want to live with him and share his dream. He can't believe they really wanted that- he even says that he keeps expecting to "stir from the dream".
I feel like that shows a lot about how Halsin feels after all the loss he's endured- he doesn't ultimately believe anyone is going to stay with him, whether because they choose to leave him, or because they'll die.
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lovewanxian · 1 year
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All the Lan juniors (except Sizhui who is silently Suffering) have badly hidden crushes on Wei Wuxian, after all he's very pretty, very charismatic and funny and a genius. How could they not get crushes on him?
Everyone knows about the juniors' crushes .... except Wei Wuxian. Not because the juniors are good at hiding their crushes for him, even in his presence. But because Wei Wuxian is convinced the juniors are actually crushing on his husband (which they Also are but nonetheless), for why would anyone crush on him when Lan Zhan is right there?
So the following scenario is a common one to see in the cloud recesses:
Lan junior 1, staring at wwx: omg he's so beautiful!
Lan junior 2, sighing: if only he wasn't married
Wwx, overhearing and getting the wrong idea: sorry kids, Hanguang-jun is mine, and I'm not sharing! *continues on his way, oblivious to the blushing and sputtering kids he left behind*
Lwj, following wwx: *gives the juniors the Death Stare of Jealousy™️*
Or:
Wwx: its so nice to see so many young people suddenly gain an interest in talismans!
His full class of Lan juniors: *thinking very horny thoughts, twirling their hair and drawing hearts in the margins of their notes* yeah its sooo interesting when you teach it!
Wwx, thinking: they must have heard Lan Zhan was gonna be my assistant for this class!
Lwj, sitting in on class to guard his husband against the juniors: *breaks the pen in his hand*
Or:
Wwx on a nighthunt, being competent as shit and very sexy as he goes full Yiling Patriarch on the monster of the week: you guys are even more uncoordinated than usual!
The Lan juniors: *running into trees and each other, stumbling over rocks and their own weapons while too busy staring at wwx*
Lan juniors: *experiencing several near death experiences so that wwx will save them*
Wwx, thinking: I shouldn't have brought Lan Zhan with me, obviously he's too pretty for the poor juniors' attention span
Lwj: *grip on Bichen tightens*
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joelscurls · 6 months
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a heart for melting
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 2.7k
warnings: post-outbreak, implied age gap, themes surrounding child loss and grief, some angst but mostly festive fluff, grumpy x sunshine dynamics (Joel is a grinch & reader loves the holidays), reader is described as having long-ish hair
summary: Jackson's first annual Holiday Market brings about more than just cheer.
a/n: Merry Christmas @thetriumphantpanda; I'm your pedrostories secret santa! I hope you enjoy this lil festive take on grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader — I had lots of fun writing it 🤍🎄 🥧 🪵 🦌
Joel doesn’t want to be here — surrounded by garland and ribbons and so much unadulterated joy, it’s nauseating. No, he was forced to be here. 
Please, Ellie had begged, it’ll be good for you to do something other than patrol or drinking with Tommy. Plus, they’re too good to keep to yourself.
They, being wood carvings — the tiny sculptures of deer and bears and birds, tufts of hair and bunches of feathers drawn out of driftwood with the tip of his blade. It was only ever meant to be a hobby, a way to busy his hands after they’d been wrapped around the cold metal of his rifle all day. Something lighter, creative rather than destructive, an act of giving rather than taking. 
But sharing them with other people? He hadn’t been interested. Maybe he’d make one for Ellie or Tommy. Wrap it up in a piece of cloth and offer it as a gift for their birthday.
Not that he thought they were any good, really.
With the announcement of Jackson’s first annual Holiday Market, though, came Ellie’s pleading. “I’ll help you,” she’d bargained. “You don’t even have to give me anything!”
“Who said I would anyway?” he’d grumbled, digging his spoon into the bottom of his bowl of stew and sifting out a chunk of meat.
Joel despises the Holiday Season. He’d welcomed its disappearance with the end of the world. Because he had no reason to celebrate, with Sarah gone. Her absence stung like salt in an open wound on any normal day. But on Christmas, memories of her hanging her favorite ornaments on the tree and sneaking one of the cookies baked for Santa burned behind his eyelids. Left him heaving through hot tears.
The holidays had no place in his world, but they certainly had a place in Jackson. The first time he and Ellie had strode through those gates, they’d been met with that damned Christmas Tree, towering over the settlement like a beacon. And he hated it, hated the way it brought about that pounding in his chest and that spinning in his head. 
How could anyone find any good in such a poignant reminder of loss? 
Tommy says it’s about new beginnings, finding ways to be happy again. And what’s happier ‘n Christmas? God damn Santa Clause, hot chocolate, children singin’ carols?
Still, Joel isn’t convinced — not yet.
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Standing across the mess hall, at your table piled high with baked goods, you are far too cheerful. You’re humming some song with a jovial beat, absentmindedly swaying as you rearrange rows of gingerbread and muffins and scones — all of which are draped in white icing, like flocking on Christmas trees. You pause to wish a happy holiday to everyone who passes through. 
Joel knows he’s seen you before, flitting in and out of the community’s kitchen, always with that signature smile scrawled across your face.
And god, you’re so bubbly, taking to everyone you meet like a bee to honey, letting them in without a care in the world. Popping from table to table, making sure they have enough to eat. That they’re doing well.
It shouldn’t surprise him that you’re so…spirited, too. You seem to find the good in everyone and everything, after all.
It infuriates him, nonetheless.
Joel groans to himself. Stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans as an elderly couple rounds on him. 
He grumbles a hello to them when they approach. They offer him half-smiles in return, beginning to pick up some of the carvings laid out on the table — turning them, inspecting them.
“This one’s nice,” the man says to his wife. She hums in agreement. 
“You got any tigers?” the man asks.
“Tigers?”
“Yeah — I used to love ‘em as a kid.”
“Got what’s on the table,” Joel grumbles. 
“You make ‘em custom? I can offer some homemade jam in return — elderberry.”
Joel sighs in annoyance. 
“Don’t make ‘em custom. Got what I got.”
The man seems defeated, nodding and walking off without another word. The woman follows closely behind.
Just as they leave, Ellie appears. She sidles up to Joel and shrugs her jacket off. Pulls a chair up next to him.
“There’s so much cool shit here!” she exclaims, too loud. A judgemental set of eyes flit her direction. She glares right back at them.
“Do you mind?” Joel huffs, jaw ticking.
“Jesus, who pissed in your Cheerios?” 
“How do you even know what Cheerios are?”
“Don’t,” she admits. “I read it in a book.” 
“Of course you did.”
Ellie leans back in her chair, pulling an apple out of her backpack and biting into it. She shuffles some of the carvings around on the table. “Gotta fill in these gaps, man,” she says, juice dribbling down her chin.
Joel ignores her. He sneaks a glance at you; finds that you’re already looking. Your expression is unreadable, gaze unmoving as he studies you.
Despite your upbeat disposition bothering him, he can’t deny that you’re gorgeous: bright, beckoning eyes, siren-like smile — it’s like you’re peering into his soul. 
He didn’t think he still had one of those.
“Dude.” Ellie nudges him. He peels his eyes from you reluctantly. “I asked how many takers you’ve had.”
“Uh.” He pretends to think. 
“You have no fucking idea, do you? Too busy staring at that girl.”
“Wasn’t starin’,” he clips defensively.
“No? Well she’s coming over here, man.”
Sure enough, you’re striding right toward him, abandoning your post. Joel barely has time to prepare for impact.
He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He brushes them on his jeans just as you stop in front of his table.
“Hi there,” you say.
“Hi!” Ellie chimes.
You pick up a carving of a two-headed deer. His favorite.
“This is beautiful,” you coo. “The craftsmanship is lovely.” You’re running a finger along the grooves in the wood, holding the piece delicately in the palm of your hand — as if it’s made of glass, not wood. “You have a real gift…”
“Joel.”
“Joel,” you repeat. He ignores how sweet his name sounds coming out of your mouth. You tell him your name, and it fits you, he thinks. It’s pretty.
“How long have you been making them?”
“Just since I got to Jackson. ‘ts somethin’ to pass the time.”
You nod. Continue scanning over the intricacies of the deer. “I was never much of a baker before I got here, either,” you joke, gesturing back toward your table.
“Good one,” Ellie laughs. “You’re funny — isn’t she funny, Joel?”
In his head, he’s glowering at her. Outwardly, he feigns amusement.
“Real funny.”
“I’d love to see how you make these sometime,” you say, then, placing the deer back on the table gingerly. “Do you have a workshop?”
“In our shed,” Ellie pipes in before he can say anything. “You should come by tomorrow! Joel’s off patrol.”
He shoots her daggers. She pretends not to notice.
“I’d love that! I have to work in the kitchen, though. I could come by after?”
Joel starts to shake his head no. Ellie’s hand wraps around his arm like a vice grip. He stills.
“Sure,” he grits.
“I can bring some pastries, if you’d like.”
“Don’t like sweets.” 
“Oh,” you say, a little thwarted, but you’re undeterred. You shift on your feet. Chew your bottom lip. “Well, how about something not sweet, then?”
Your brows lift, narrowed eyes on him as you await a response. Joel still isn’t thrilled about the prospect of a visitor. Really, he doesn’t like anyone on his property that isn’t Ellie, or Tommy and Maria if he’s invited them. But you don’t seem so bad, offering to bring him food. 
He can probably deal with your sunny disposition in exchange for a full belly. Lord knows he went too long without that luxury, and he’d be a fool to deny himself of it ever again.
So, he agrees, the garbled sure less than enthusiastic leaving his mouth. Still, you don’t seem too offended. In fact, you smirk at him, wordlessly sauntering back to your table, sneaking glances at him every so often for the remainder of the afternoon.
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Sure enough, the next evening, while Joel is whittling in the shed, you show up.
You’re wielding a basket of savory hand pies, as promised, and Joel has to stop himself from drooling. They smell incredible. And they’re still warm, somehow, steam wafting off of them even after your walk here.
“Come in,” he gruffs, his nose following the scent like a dog’s as he trails behind you inside.
His set up is minimal: a rocking chair next to a bench, a couple stools he made for when Tommy comes by to play poker. But his works are scattered throughout, every surface in the small room cluttered with little carvings.
He settles atop one of the stools as you begin to wander around the room, plucking sculptures off shelves and awing at them with such genuine admiration, it causes something to pull in his chest.
Every so often, you make a remark about the details in a piece, how the fur on the deer looks real, how you can practically smell the replica evergreen in your grasp.
And something shifts — carried by your kind words through the stuffy shed.
Taken by the slight lilt in your voice when you speak to him, the almost-shy smile that pulls at the corners of your lips — Joel is attracted to you.
He’s following the line of your neck down to your collarbone, ogling at the exposed skin there when you pick another carving up off the shelf. And he feels guilty — he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re just being nice, being neighborly, and he’s gawking at you like you’d have any interest in him.
No; you’re young, beautiful, could do a lot better than an old grump like him. 
He averts his gaze quickly when you suddenly set down the tiny, carved bird that had been in your palm, round the workbench and perch yourself atop the stool next to his. You retrieve a handpie out of the basket and pass it over to him. 
“It has braised rabbit and carmelized onions in it,” you explain, taking a bite and letting the steam roll out. 
He follows suit and — it tastes just as good as it smells, if not better. He’s salivating again, letting the dough melt in his mouth before swallowing. 
The two of you eat in comfortable silence, getting through the entire basket in mere minutes.
When you’re finished, you ask him where he’s from. 
The question shouldn’t feel like such a shock to the system. But after a year of being in Jackson, successfully avoiding conversation about his life before the outbreak, it sets off a panging between his eyes, a dull ache in his viscera. 
“Texas,” he tells you plainly. “From Austin, originally.”
You nod. And you must be able to tell that he’s not used to talking about himself — by the tick of his jaw or the lack of eye contact — he’s not sure. Because you don’t pry. Instead, you say, “you can ask me something.”
He nods. Thinks on it for a moment.
“When did you arrive here? To Jackson?” 
Unlike him, you do not grimace at the intrusion. Instead, you tell him: about your parents, their untimely deaths, the harrowing road that led you here. You do not cry, but Joel can see the pain in your shiny eyes. 
It’s inevitable; there isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been dealt a bad hand. But you wear your past like a badge of honor, like you’re still grateful, after it all, to be alive.
Joel envies your tenacity.
So when you ask him about Ellie, if she is his daughter, he lets the walls around him down — just an inch. He doesn’t get upset when he stumbles over his words while telling you about Sarah. He finds comfort in confiding in you, in the way you so attentively listen, quietly nodding along as he recalls his version of the end of the world.
“Thank you,” you say when he’s done, burying his hands back in his pockets.
“For what?”
“For sharing that with me. I know it can be difficult to relive it.”
“I relive it everyday,” he admits. “Everything reminds me of her in one way or another.”
“I understand,” you nod. He believes you do.
So sweet, gaze like honey, you are an enigma to him. He hasn’t met many people who are kind just for the sake of it — not in a long while. Maybe that’s why he’d been so bothered by it at the market. It had felt almost unnatural to him, bound to be laced with an ulterior motive. 
He’s still learning how to trust people again. It doesn’t come easily after twenty-odd years of rationing it like the pills he’d stowed. Still, there is something innate about baring his soul to you. Letting you in through the cracks in his battered being. You are safe, he’s sure of it; benevolence radiating from you like warmth.
It drips off your tongue when you ask him to show you how he does his craft — slips down your fluttering lashes. No longer can he deny you of anything — he’s accepted this swiftly — and so he obliges.
A half-whittled fox materializes from his coat pocket, along with his blade. He passes both to you and pulls his stool closer to yours.
He guides you, taking your hand in his, encouraging the press of the blade into the wood. Shows you how to round out a corner with a subtle twist of the knife. You’re a fast learner, Joel notes, attentive, taking every instruction like gospel.
The slow drag of steel, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle; you’re so focused that you jump slightly when he places a reassuring hand on your knee.
“Doin’ great, darlin’,” he says, and your lips pull around pearlescent teeth. Joel feels as enraptured by you as you do the carving — the loose tendrils of hair that drape over your shoulder, the clinging of cotton to your soft curves. Though he hardened into stone a long time ago, he feels smelted in your presence. So he cannot help it when his fingers begin to drift up your leg, settling at your side as he turns his body toward yours.
The blade stalls, tip still stuck into the wood, puncturing the fox’s non-existent spine, and your face lifts. 
“Is this okay?” he whispers. You nod, gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.
You’re so close like this; Joel can smell the floral perfume dappled along your neck, can feel your warm breath fanning his face. He has half a mind to stop himself from sealing the sliver of distance left between you. But then you’re sighing, placing the blade and the wooden fox on the tabletop. And it’s your turn to guide him — winding your delicate fingers around his wrist and settling his hand at the small of your back.
The air in the tiny workshop grows heavy with unspoken desire, a longing to disrupt; to create. Your body forms to his languidly, arms interlocking behind his neck, fingers weaving in his hair to pull him closer to you. And then your lips press to his — hesitant at first, then not. You drink from each other until you are drunk, breathless and giddy when you separate. 
“That was nice,” you whisper, and Joel chuckles. 
“Just nice?”
“Great,” you amend. “It was great. Better than I imagined, even.”
“You imagined this?”
“Yes,” you smirk. “On a loop since I first saw you at the market.”
He pulls you back in. Gives you another chaste kiss. “For good measure.”
“Joel,” you say then, “will you and Ellie come by mine on Christmas? I could even cook — it’s just-”
“Yes,” he’s accepting before you can finish. “I’d love that. As long as you make more of those,” he gestures toward the empty basket on the workbench. 
“That can be arranged,” you grin.
As soon as you leave that evening — sent off with a goodbye muttered between slotted mouths — Joel starts on your Christmas present. 
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end notes: thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed <3
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celestialglow24 · 1 month
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••• Sharing the Bed•••
Frank Castle x AFAB Reader
Reader is wondering how things will be with Frank now after asking him to be her fake boyfriend at her sister’s wedding.
3.9k words
Inspired by the faking dating prompts from @thelonelyempath https://www.tumblr.com/thelonelyempath/705043295893618688/fake-dating-prompts?source=share
Using prompt #25 “I kinda liked sharing the bed with you”
I’ve had such a writing bug lately and im taking advantage of it while i’ve got it! Enjoy xxx
You were nervous to see him again.
It had been a couple weeks since you’d convinced Frank to be your fake boyfriend for your sister’s wedding.
You had panicked when your mom called you at work, saying you had pushed it off long enough and she needed an answer right now if you were bringing a plus one or not.
You almost said no, but after she made a snide comment about already knowing the answer—she was just asking as a courtesy to your sister—you cracked and told her you’d been seeing someone for months now.
When she asked who, your eyes had landed on one of the few patrons left at the bar that night.
Frank Castle.
Surprisingly he agreed to go. It was probably the desperation in your voice and the pleading of your eyes—you didn’t have time to think about how pathetic you felt—but you were thankful nonetheless.
It’s been 14 days since you got back and you haven’t seen him since. Not that you were counting the days or anything.
No texts.
No phone calls.
Just silence.
Normally you wouldn’t think much of it. Even though Frank had become a regular at the bar and restaurant you worked at, he’d disappear for days and weeks at a time.
You’d try and make small talk when he came back. Hoping to get any kind of inclination as to what Frank Castle got up to in his spare time.
He was still such a mystery to you. A very attractive mystery at that. One that you were determined to figure out.
However, as much as you tried, you never got the answer you were searching for.
It was always “business” or “nothing you’d find interesting, sweetheart”.
You never really gave it much thought when he offered those responses, you just accepted that Frank was not an open book. He was a locked book. One kept on the highest shelf that you’d probably never be able to reach.
And yet despite knowing all this you couldn’t help but wonder if your time away together had anything to do with his sudden absence.
You worried things would get awkward. Especially after having to share a bed together. He offered to sleep on the floor but you shot that down quick.
Not only would you feel enormously guilty having him sleep on the hardwood floor—he complained about his back a lot—but you were worried someone might walk in and your fake dating charade would unravel.
The silent crush you’d been harboring had only gotten louder after several days with Frank. Having to hold hands, talk sweetly to each other and even slow dance at the wedding had your mind all in a haze.
What was real and what wasn’t?
Did he feel anything? Or was he just a really good actor?
It was driving you crazy.
One thing was for certain, your family adored him. Especially your equally intimidating, hard-to-please father.
In fact, your dad liked him so much he invited him to go hunting in a few months.
It had taken years before he even extended an invite like that to your sister’s now husband.
You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing when you watched the way his eyes had widened and mouth parted when Frank agreed to go—your sister offering a reassuring pat to his arm.
You figured it had something to do with the fact they were both veterans. Your dad took an instant liking to anyone who could relate to the struggle and strength it took to serve in the military.
And your mother. The way she fawned over everything Frank said and did. His manners, how he consistently answered with “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am”.
She just about fell over when she came into the kitchen one morning to find he had managed to fix that pesky dishwasher that had been giving her trouble for months.
You smiled at the memory, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Another thought had overshadowed it. One that caused a sudden pit to form in your stomach. How were you going to break the news to your family that things with Frank weren’t working out?
The plan was to give it a few weeks and then call to let them know you’d decided to take some time apart. You were both realizing you needed different things, but you would remain friends.
It sounded reasonable, but now? You didn’t think you could handle their disappointment.
You’d never seen them so proud of you. So happy for you. Pleasing your parents always felt like an impossible task. The closer you got there was always some dip in the road that caused that approval to move further and further away.
You finally bring someone home that they approved of only to rip the hope away from them. You were sure they’d find some way to blame it all on you.
You were starting to remember what it felt like when you told them you wouldn’t be going to college.
It didn’t matter that you were excellent at your job, managing both the bar and the restaurant on your own. It didn’t matter that you were able to make more than enough money to support yourself. And it certainly didn’t matter that you had helped exceed the profit goals of each quarter since you started.
It didn’t matter that you had been busting your ass to save back money to buy the place for yourself when the owner retired soon.
It only mattered that you didn’t have a “career” or a family to call your own.
Frank had picked up on the tension pretty early on. He did his best to talk you up. You found it sweet. Endearing even.
One night, while the two of you were dancing to some slow, sappy song your sister picked out, Frank called you out on your off demeanor.
You were surprised he noticed, you thought you had mastered the art of appearing fine when deep down you really weren’t.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he spoke lowly in your ear. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other held your hand close to his chest. His thumb ran back and forth along your hand and you tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies wreaking havoc on your stomach.
“I’m wondering how Uncle Steven has managed to go this long without throwing up. I thought for sure the cupid shuffle would’ve done it.”
Frank turned to look in the direction you were staring. Your Uncle Steven was somehow still performing the steps to the dance from 3 songs ago. Frank lightly chuckled as he watched Steven spill some of his beer on the couple next to him.
Though he couldn’t deny he was also wondering how the old man hadn’t crashed yet, he knew that’s not what you were really thinking about.
You were trying to deflect.
He was starting to learn just how stubborn you could be, but unlucky for you, Frank wasn’t gonna let you off the hook that easily.
“Nah that ain’t it.” he shook his head. “I can tell there’s a lot more going on behind those eyes.”
You were slightly relieved the lights were dim in the reception so he couldn’t see the deep blush heating up your face. You weren’t good at making eye contact with people you were crushing on.
“I think you’re imagining things.” you replied avoiding his gaze. “I’m just tired, I think this week is finally catching up to me.”
“Hm.” Frank hummed.
“What?”
“I think we’re about to have our first fight.”
You scoffed, ”Oh yeah? and what’s this ‘first fight’ gonna be about?”
“How you’re lying to your boyfriend.” he replied, speaking low into your ear again. It shouldn’t have caused the hairs on your neck to stand up but it certainly did.
“Look, you listen to assholes mope and complain all day long about their sad fucked up lives. I think it’s only fair to return the favor.” he shrugged. “So tonight i’ll do your job and you can let it all out right now. Minus the crude comments and shitty tips.”
You were about to laugh and lightly shove Frank for messing with you, but the look on his face made you pause.
He was being serious.
“Is it your folks?” he asked. “I saw your face when your dad gave that speech. That smile you were forcin’, it didn’t reach your eyes.”
You bit your lip and lowered your stare to the dress shirt he was wearing, playing nervously with one of the buttons to avoid looking up at him.
“That obvious huh?” you laughed sadly.
Frank felt bad as he watched the hurt wash over your features. He knew all too well the overwhelming pressure to please one’s family. He grew up with an overbearing father who never thought he’d amount to anything.
He knew how much that disappointment could eat you alive.
“It’s just, no matter what I do. I know my dad will never speak about me the way he does my sister. She’s an ivy league graduate who just got into med school. She’s married now, moving to a new city and probably going to be popping out kids before the end of next year. and me? In his eyes I'm just a bartender in a small town with no ambitious goal in sight.”
Frank nodded in understanding. He could see from the outside how the comparison could make you feel that way.
“Are you happy?”
You thought about it for a second. Even though the job had its ups and downs—managing a restaurant and a busy bar was no easy feat—you could honestly say you enjoyed what you did.
You got to know a lot of the locals well and it always made you feel good to know that you’d helped make their day or night a little better.
You loved the house you recently bought. It was a bit of a fixer upper but it was yours.
You loved how independent you were. How you could come home after a long day and you didn’t have to cook for a litter of kids.
It was just your dog, cat and you.
“Honestly? Yeah, I think I am.”
“Then fuck em.” he shrugged.
“Frank I-”
“Nah, nah.” he cut you off. “I know that’s your family but that don’t mean they’re always right. If you like what you do and you’re happy then who gives a shit what anyone else thinks.”
You processed Frank’s words and while you knew he was probably right, it didn’t mean it was easy to just tune out your parents’ criticism.
Frank seemed to know what you weren’t saying out loud because he followed it up with something that made your heart swell.
“All i’m saying is if they can look at you and what you’re doing and feel anything but proud there’s something wrong with ‘em. Not you.”
You could’ve kissed him right there but the song had ended and couples were clearing the dance floor.
Instead you walked back to the table with Frank, your arm looped through his.
You couldn’t help but think about how this man was screwing with your heart and your head and he didn’t even know it.
That much was still true all these days later. At this point you were dying for him to show up again.
Even if he didn’t talk to you, you’d at least know he wasn’t avoiding this whole place because of you.
The night was winding down, the 2 am crowd had begun to disperse and your eyes were fighting hard to stay awake. You’d chosen to work a double today, one of the other bartenders had a family emergency.
In your 20s you could work shifts like this and bounce right back the next day but now? In your 30s you were lucky if you managed to wake up without an achy back and sore feet.
“Phil, I'm gonna run the last of the trash out and then I'm heading home. I left the keys to lock up in the front drawer.” you shouted to the line cook in the back.
You could see him mopping up the kitchen floor so you knew he wouldn’t be too far behind you.
“You sure you don’t want me to go with ya this time?” he shouted back, “I’d hate for a creepy critter to make you run like you’d seen a ghost again.”
You rolled your eyes as Phil roared with laughter. Referencing the one time a little group of racoons had taken up residence inside the restaurant dumpster and sent you running like Freddy Krueger himself was chasing you.
“I think i’ll manage this time Phil, thanks for looking out.” you replied playfully.
You picked up the large trash bags and backed into the front door to head out. It was really inconvenient but they recently had moved the trash compactor across the street.
Not only was it annoying during the day when the streets were busy but it was extra spooky at night.
Once you were out of the door you turned around only to gasp and drop the trash bags you were holding.
“Jesus, Frank.” you cried, “What the hell were you trying to do, give me a fucking heart attack?”
You were too distracted by the adrenaline coursing through your veins to realize the man you’d been waiting to see for the last two weeks was finally standing in front of you.
“My bad, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. I tried to go by your place and you weren’t there so I figured you might be here.”
You blew out a puff of hair and a couple pieces of your hair went flying.
“You were looking for me?”
“Yeah, sorry I know it’s late. I wanted to make sure you got this back. Somehow I think it got mixed up in my things.”
Frank pulled out a pink phone charger from his jacket pocket and extended it out to you.
You had a million of these things scattered around your house so you honestly hadn’t noticed it was missing. It was sweet of him to bring it back to you though.
“Oh Frank, you didn’t have to worry about that.” you replied, walking forward to retrieve it. “But thank you”.
You beamed a genuine smile at Frank while holding up the charger in your hand and he thought his heart had grown 2 sizes. Just like the Grinch his kids used to watch.
There was something about your smile that always stopped him in his tracks. He would never get tired of seeing it.
“Nah it’s nothin’.” he shrugged. “May I?”
He gestured toward the garbage bags sitting on the ground and bent over to pick them up.
“You don’t have to!” you tried to stop him, but subconsciously you knew it would be pointless.
Frank was always a gentleman and while he knew you would have no trouble carrying them on your own, he wouldn’t feel right not offering a hand.
“Can I atleast carry one of them?” you asked sweetly.
There was that damn smile again. How could he say no?
The two of you walked in silence for a bit, it wasn’t awkward but it was clear you were both trying to think of what to say next.
How do two people that recently spent a week pretending to be a couple go back to normal?
You decided to break the silence as the two of you walked back toward the bar.
“I, um, never got to properly thank you for helping with my family. I know it was probably a bit weird but it meant more to me than you could ever know. I think my parents would’ve had us get married that same night if it were up to them.” you laughed, playing nervously with your hands.
“Is that right?” Franked looked down at you with an amused expression.
“God, yes. I think you’re probably gonna be the only guy I bring home that they will ever like. I actually feel bad for the next guy that has to live up to the great Frank Castle.” you nudged him as you walked and he let out the most glorious laugh you’d ever heard.
You wanted to hear that more.
“Well if i’m the measuring stick for all the future men in your life then it’s your parents I feel sorry for.”
“Hey!” you exclaimed, playfully swatting his shoulder, “What do you mean by ‘all the future men in your life’? You think I still got a revolving door of men to get through before I finally settle down?”
It was meant to be playful banter, but there was a look that settled in Frank’s eyes and the mood suddenly got a bit more serious.
“I sure hope not.”
You weren’t sure how to take his comment. Maybe you were over analyzing but there was a part of you that was hoping he said that because he wanted you.
Wishful thinking of course.
You cleared your throat to help ease the tension.
“So, you just get back from whatever mystery place you squandered off to?”
“Just taking care of some business, sweetheart.”
That famous phrase again. You simply nodded. Accepting once again that you would probably not get any further information than that.
“But you know it’s funny.” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “There I was, lying in bed in some run down roach motel off the highway, having a hell of time trying to fall asleep each night.
“It coulda been the state of the motel—that place was a real shitbox—but the more I laid there, the more I realized it felt like I was missing something.”
Frank started fidgeting a bit. Almost like he was nervous or something. It was strange. You didn't think a guy like him got nervous.
“I realized, I kinda liked sharing the bed with you.”
Your heart started hammering away in your chest. Did you hear him right? Frank Castle liked sharing a bed with you? So much so that it was keeping him up at night?
You had to be dreaming.
“Really?”
You tried to act nonchalant but the word came out all high and squeaky. You don’t think Frank noticed though.
“Yeah, believe it or not I’d gotten so used to having no covers at night, I just tossed the damn thing on the ground.”
You gasped and punched his shoulder slightly. “Hey, I warned you I would probably take all the blankets. You coulda pulled them right back.”
Frank laughed again.
“Nah, you were too cute wrapped up like a burrito. Besides, I was more worried if I tried you’d whack my head or kick my nuts. You sure do move around a lot in your sleep.”
You feigned hurt, placing a hand to your chest.
“And just why do you miss sharing a bed with me so much? It doesn't sound so pleasant based on what you’re saying.”
Frank looked off and smiled. “I don’t know.”
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you.
“Look, uh, I’m not really good at this. I’ve been out of the game for a long time so you’ll have to forgive me but-”
“Frank Castle.” you cut him off.
“Yeah?”
“Are you about to ask if you can sleep in my bed tonight?”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up and a panicked sort of look took residence on his face. “Shit, no I didn’t mean it like that. I was just-”
He stopped when he saw you throw your head back in laughter.
“What?” he asked, trying to fight off the smile that was beginning to form on his own face. Your laugh was just too damn contagious.
“I’m sorry,” you said between breaths,”You shoulda seen your face. I was just messing with you Frank.”
“Oh yeah?” he laughed, poking your side. “You think that shit was funny huh?”
Suddenly you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and over Frank’s shoulder. “I can be real fucking hilarious. How about I carry you home just like this?”
“Frank!” you screamed playfully, swatting at his back. “Put me down you asshole!”
“No, I think I like this view better.”
You continued to hit his back and laugh. You were just about to come back with your own smart comment when you heard a car pull up beside you.
“Is everything alright here?”
You turned to look, adjusting your hair so it was out of your face. It was an officer staring at you both with a confused expression.
You could’ve sworn you heard Frank growl a little bit.
“Uh we’re good officer!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.
“She had a bit too much to drink tonight. Tried to drive home. Just makin sure she gets home safe. She’s a stubborn thing.” Frank spoke up, making sure to pat your ass for dramatic effect.
The officer seemed to buy this story.
“Well miss, you got a good man there. You should probably listen to him more often.” he replied before rolling up the window.
You gasped and Frank roared with laughter.
“Thanks officer!” he shouted as the man drove away.
You poked his side hard and he finally released you, setting you down in front of him. Your faces were real close together now, and the smiles you both had slowly fell.
There was a quiet moment before you quickly leaned in and kissed Frank. He seemed surprised at first but thankfully responded and pulled you in tighter.
His hands roamed your body while yours held his face.
You pulled away gently, and he rested his forehead on yours.
“You know, I thought you’d been avoiding me.” you said quietly.
“Yeah?” he replied, moving a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I know you disappear sometimes but I thought this time was gonna be different.”
Frank nodded, running his hands down your shoulders before grabbing both of your hands in his own.
“You know, I got a confession.” he said quietly, “I swiped that phone charger before we left.”
You leaned back and looked up at him.
“What?”
He let out a soft chuckle. “I know it’s stupid but I wanted an excuse to see you again. Like I said, it's been a while since I’ve done anything like this and I didn’t think I could just approach you in the bar like before.”
“It’s not stupid.” you smiled, squeezing his hands. “It’s sweet.”
“So i’m sweet now? Just a second ago I was a asshole.”
“Both can be true.” you shrugged.
He scoffed. “Come here.”
Frank pulled you into him and you wrapped your arms around his waist. He placed a kiss on your head and it suddenly felt like it did when you were with your parents.
It just felt natural.
“Let me take you out.” he said, pulling back and tilting your chin up at him. “On a real date.”
You bit your lip and smiled, “I’d like that.”
“Good.” he replied before kissing you again.
“Now let’s go before that cop comes back around and you gotta act drunk for him.”
You rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say, Frank. I gotta listen to you more right?”
“Attagirl.” he smiled, before putting his arm around your shoulder.
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priniya · 2 years
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TILL FOREVER FALLS APART !
summary: when sirius said siblings are off limits, james never thought he would break that rule as his best friend was the only one to have siblings close to their age, but everything seems to change when the sister sirius swore to hate because of her cruelty has several detentions with him and she’s not as cruel as her brother described.
notes: james potter x black!reader. reader is a twin sister of regulus, kinda angsty at the end, hurt/comfort, sirius is kind of an ass. not proofread
PART 2! • taglist (click here to be added!)
you really thought that the detention with james potter would go easy. not a word would be shared, him not even looking at you as he probably know your relationship with his best friend, and then you two would have a week free from each other, but james potter seemed to be interested in you – or more likely, how did you end up in a detention.
he saw you as a perfect black, that’s how sirius would describe you, or your twin brother whenever someone brought up your name. and no matter how positive it sounds, he was always negative, never mentioning your childhood, and how attached you were to him.
the perfect black daughter, more ideal than narcissa or bellatrix, the one who would never obey her elders unlike sirius or andromeda, the one who would do whatever they say to please them.
well, it was partially true, you could give that to him. but you nor regulus weren’t like any other family members. you weren’t brave enough to stand up to your parents and survive the punishment with a smile on your lips like your brother did, you two were two afraid to do anything that could make orion or walburga mad.
but both of you were proud slytherins, with regulus being one of the best quidditch players of your house, and you impressively good at whatever you touched. you were plotting against your parents, the death-eathers and everyone that could get in the way of your plan. an escape plan, to runaway somewhere far like france or canada, while everyone thinks you died. nonetheless, sirius couldn’t know that – he barely spoke to any of you, which just worsened when you were invited to the deatheaters meeting at your house.
in his eyes, you were nothing but a piece of shit like rest of your family for being unable to runaway earlier, for having no one to runaway to, as the rumors about your enjoyment in dark magic spread at school with light speed. however, unlike sirius you had your twin, always ready to stand up for you and vice versa, always ready to fight anyone who says a bad thing about you.
sometimes you and regulus would sneak out of the house and wander around the crowded streets of london, thinking how would your life looked like if you weren’t wizards, if you weren’t born into a family with an obsession of blood status and keeping it pure.
what made you even more perfect in everyone’s eyes was that you looked exactly like a female version of regulus, or more accurately, he looked like a male version of you. wearing the same clothes when you didn’t have to wear robes, and it wasn’t like you planned it – you had a gut feeling to wear your expensive like hell, black coat, and so had he. you looked intimidating, walking next to your brother, evan rosier and other friends of yours with faces that seemed to never experience any emotions. like rocks, untouched by people’s words, stares and pointing fingers.
“how did you end up here?” your companion asked out of sudden, making you shift in your chair. you already finished cleaning the classroom but there was still more than an twenty minutes left, and you couldn’t just leave for whatever reasons. “didn’t expect to see the perfect black sister having time to bother herself with things like detentions.”
“and why does it interest you, potter?” a sigh slipped from between your lips as you rest your chin on the left hand. “so my brother can have more reasons to despise me, because as i presume, you’ll tell him.” you didn’t even let him have a glimpse of your mimic as he could only see your back.
“oh, miss black, who do you think i am?” you heard him get closer, and take a seat by your side, probably briefly looking at the book you’d read. he could swore to merlin, he thought it’d be a book containing black magic spells you would cast if flinch didn’t confiscate your wands. but it was far from dark margic. “i’m just curious, have heard a lot of… things about you and wanted to check myself.”
you fixed your black hair before quickly considering if you should tell him the real reason or the made up one you’d told evan and pandora. “hmm, what would i get from telling you?” you leaned closer to him, revealing your face. it was one of your first encounters with james potter, and hell, you know it wouldn’t be the last one, since there were at least four next weeks of detention together.
“we could figure something out, y’know.” he shrugged, scanning every inch of your flawless skin, starting at your eyebrows and eyes, through lips to chin. you were gorgeous, and james couldn’t blame the first years that sometimes followed you like a lost puppy around the castle, trying to gain your attention or the girls having their lesbians awakening while watching slytherin’s practice with you as a substitute for your brother. every comment he had heard about your immaculate beauty was so real, that he could swore he would develop a crush on you in other circumstances. “just tell me.”
“i stood in my brother’s defense, the one you know better.” you replied, averting your look back to the book you were reading, not really bothering yourself to catch a glimpse of james’ parted mouth as he realized the sense of your words. “any more questions or can i finally focus on my book?”
“why did you- how did you-?”
“as much as some people tries to say, i do care about my family members’ well-beings, even though they refuse to talk to me or my twin.” you let out a little too harsh than you planned. “and no one will say anything bad about my brother unless it’s me or regulus.” you didn’t even wait for his reponse, leaving the classroom as soon as the clock hit nine in the evening.
you could say everything, yet you decided to reveal part of the thing that happened. and you knew that james would, most likely, tell your brother how you tried to gain his attention by making up a story. what you didn’t tell him was the part where you broke lucius malfoy’s nose, completely forgetting how much influence had his father on yours, and how mad they would be.
the next detention went… smoother. james didn’t bother you with questions about elaborating on the reason of your punishment, however it wouldn’t be james potter if he stayed quiet. especially when you didn’t have to clean the classroom again, just sit in silence while mcgonagall watched over you, but unfortunately (for you) she had to leave.
“miss black, didn’t expect you here.” a chuckle left his mouth, sitting himself in front of you, taking in your gorgeous face. “any kid’s dreams of dating you crashed last week?” for a moment, a millisecond, he could see a shadow of smile on your lips, and james potter felt like he already accomplished his mission for today.
“how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes in a playful manner, allowing yourself to look at the boy in front of you. his dark curls fell onto his forehead, and you could swear if it wasn’t for his glasses that somehow kept them out of his eyes’ way, he wouldn’t see a thing.
and you couldn’t know that, but james potter wouldn’t let himself miss such an opportunity to just stare at you for at least few minutes. it was strange, he never wanted to just look at a girl, who wasn’t lily evans and interested in him at the same time. though somehow, you were living free in his mind, making the boy catch himself on staring at you during meals.
“pulled out some prank on snape lately?” you added before he replied, a hand put under your chin as you leaned over the table, watching his every move. his eyes lit up immediately on your visible interest in whatever he had done during the previous week. “not a fan of snape?” james questioned, his eyebrow higher than usually.
“please.” you rolled your eyes again. “is there anyone who’s a fan of snape besides your girlfriend?” you let yourself smile at him for a brief moment, before shifting in your chair.
“evans s’not my girlfriend.” his replied shocked you, you could’ve sworn to yourself you saw them snogging somewhere. not that you cared with whom james was making out. you didn’t care, at all. “rumor has it, you two hook up a lot.”
“i’d throw up over him rather than do anything that involves physical touch. he disgusts me.” you knitted your eyebrows together at the so-called rumor, you already heard from sirius on christmas.
“why? because he’s a half-blood?” the gryffindor seeker blurted out before thinking, causing you to back out from the conversation, a strange feeling of pain raising in your heart. it was something he would regret saying later at night, processing every inch of your talk, realizing that everyone thought you were a pure-blood supremacist, and probably it wasn’t the best thing he could say to you.
“because he’s a misogynistic piece of shit, potter. snape could be a highly born pure-blood wizard, the best one out there, but if he says things like this about your little girlfriend when she’s not there or any female in general, he’s a piece of shit like any of his friends.” your words came out harshly, but you felt disrespected by someone who tried talking to you first.
the rest of the detention you spent in silence while james was explaining something that involved brooms and words snivellus, regret, and some other things you didn’t pay attention to, too busy counting minutes to the end of that cruel meeting.
however, the third and fourth were much more… pleasing, you could say. the boy pulled an expression like if he actually wanted to get to know you on his own and found out what made you silent a week earlier. it almost felt like it was planned, mcgonagall’s presence needed somewhere else, and a bunch of sweets you adored, snatched from the kitchen in a little bag in his hand.
“sorry. for the last time, i said some stupid shit that didn’t mean to come out like that.” he confessed, genuine in his voice was so clear that you couldn’t held back a smile, forming on your lips upon seeing his gesture. “don’t say shit like i didn’t have to. i did. i wanted to apologize, and get to know you.”
“hmm, apologise accepted.” you spoke out softly, offering him a bar of chocolate. “but, mister potter, why do you want to get to know me so bad? thought other people know everything better than me.”
he shifted in his position, getting closer to you, a mischievous smirk spread over his lips. “y’know, miss black, you’re an interesting person, and i can’t get you out of my head, so i had to do something about it.”
the upsides of your immaculate skin was that it tended to get red-ish rapidly, and that comment of his with the flirtatious tone made you burning red. without any shield to cover your face, you broke the eye contact with the gryffindor, and smiled involuntarily, feeding up his ego.
however, it didn’t took you long to look him in the eyes again, continuing the conversation with a smug smile that matched his. “what would you like to know, ask and i’ll answer.”
you awaited questions like how is it to be a death eather, or have you ever thought of killing someone for your parents’ sake, or anything that would make you cringe inside. although, he firstly asked you questions people never remember the answers to — what’s your favorite colour, muggle movie, a book you could recommend him to read in a free time.
“james potter likes contemporary romances?” you laughed, shaking your head at the answer to the last question he gave you. there was no imagine in your head of james potter, the great seeker of gryffindor, reading a contemporary romance book with eagerness and passion. “i’ll like whatever you recommend me, pretty girl.”
“hmm” you dragged out the words, searching for something in your bag. an exclusive, limited edition costing thousands of muggle’s money, of your favorite book – the pride and prejudice by jane austen. there was a brief moment of hesitation, was he just playing around and you would never get it back, or does he really wanna read it? there was something in his eyes that made you trust him prior to handing him the book. “it’s my favorite one.”
“you like classics?” you nodded.
james felt a weird, tingling feeling in his stomach as you clarified it was your favorite one, and now he had it in his hands. he recognized the muggle author, because his mom read a lot of muggle classics and romance in her freetime. it was bizarre to learn you liked muggle book, hardly ever mentioning a wizard one.
for the rest of the third detention you just… talked, ending up with being walked by him to the basement, so the disscusion you had wouldn’t be cut off so suddenly. the fourth one was even better, the best of them as there was no awkwardness between you two, despite the closeness of your bodies. he sat next to you, your arm and leg touching his whenever he leaned closer.
this time, you were the one talking — infuriated by some guys from ravenclaw that had catcalled you a few times on your way to the detention and one had tried to touch you, thinking it was okay to touch anyone without their consent. they were seniors, finishing school in june when you were a fifth-year, frightened by the vision of writing owls in may.
james just nodded his head, not daring to interrupt you even once, maybe in fear of getting hit by your hands that couldn’t stop moving ever since you started your monologue. he just chimmed in a few times saying true and yes, but he was focused on how your eyes flickered with annoyance and anger, making you even prettier.
“are you even listening to me, james?” the way you empathized his name made his stomach do a flip, a whole acrobatic performance. it was one of the first times, or even the first, when you referred to him as james, not potter, not mister potter or anything you’d called him before, james. “yeah, yes, sorry. assholes from ravenclaw, right?”
he walked you to the entrance of slyherin common room for the last time as it was your last detention together for a while, and you smiled at him warmly before disappearing behind the doors. the first thing you saw after stepping into the room was your brother’s interested smile.
“potter walking you here? someone got a crush.” he laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the stairs up to his dormitory. “sirius would probably kill him if it was true, my dearest little brother.” you replied walking into the room of your brother and his few friends.
“sirius would kill who?” rosier walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waistline, winking at you with a flirtatious smirk. “quit it, evan. she’s my sister.” regulus was faster to reply.
you plopped on evan’s bed as it was the only free one and sighed. “reg thinks a certain gryffindor has a crush on me because he walked me here.”
“twice.”
“okay, yeah. james walked me twice and regulus thinks he has a crush on me for simply being nice, after literally interviewing me.” you mumbled, crossing arms on your chest. “there’s nothing to discuss here, he’s a gryffindor, a potter, it’s just inherited kindness.”
“and why are you so involved in figuring it out, sister?” your brother asked with a smug smile, his eyebrows high up as he thought he found out about your great secret. “do you reciprocate his little crush on you, huh?”
“shut up, asshole.” you rolled your eyes, throwing one of evan’s additional pillows at him. “do i look like a 5’4 ginger with a gryffindor’s scarf hung around my neck?”
“please, if i’ll see you one day in a fucking gryffindor robe, i don’t know who i am going to kill first, your future boyfriend or you for cheating on me, pretty girl.” evan sat beside you, almost immediately throwing his hand over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his still wet-ish chest.
you laughed, making yourself comfortable. unfortunately for regulus (who always wanted to kill any of his friends that tried to hit up on you), you enjoyed your flirtatious relationship with evan. “you think really highly of yourself, mr. rosier, took my first proper make-out and you think you decides on which robes i wear?” you shot back, biting back a playful grin appearing on your face.
“you know what i mean, sweetheart.” prior to regulus gag, you sent your friend a kiss and he pretended to catch it and hide in the depths of his heart. “of course, lovely.”
“please, get the fuck out if you want to be all couple-y here with each other.” andrew, another friend of your brother, groaned with fake annoyance as you sent evan another kiss. “what, andy? you jealous or something?” your friend laughed in an answer.
the next time you saw james was when a guy that tried to harass you, walked into the great hall with ugly, red hair and a robe with a large, inscription above his head “i harassed a younger girl.” he sat at the table across the hall, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips as you were the only person his eyes had focused on.
fifteen minutes later, you met him under the willow tree, a smug rosing on his face when you caught his glance. “miss black!” he called out, waving at you. “did you like what i did? especially for you.”
“it was… funny, you know.” you chuckled, taking a seat next to him as you had around twenty minutes left before anyone that could suspect basically anything would walk out of the castle. “i can give you that.” you mumbled, closing your eyes when your head touched the rough tree limb.
“sooo, you should go out with me as a favor, pretty girl.” he sent you a charming smile that would make your legs weak if you weren’t sitting next to him. “maybe on sunday, watchu think?”
you wanted to disagree, say no to him and explain yourself that your older brother, his best friend at the same time, wouldn’t be fond of this idea, though he looked at you with those alluring, brown eyes of his, and you couldn’t deny. “fine. sunday, it is.”
and that’s how you two began to go out, sneaking around and lying to your brothers that nothing really went on with the two of you. nevertheless, sirius was completely unaware of your little dates as anything had barely changed — james still talking about lily with a picture of you in his mind, and you… still didn’t talk to him. whatsoever, regulus knew about everything by connecting the dots and following the clues you left him unwillingly.
“i’ll kill him, hope you know that.” he spoke out suddenly, when you tried to get to your classroom in time, especially because it was potions and slughorn never tolerated lateness. never if you weren’t his favorite students that he collected like gems, giving them privileges and other additions that were probably against school rules. “huh?”
“potter.” you froze in your tracks for a minute. “if he ever lays a hand on you like our father did on our mother or do anything that upsets you, he’s dead.” a warm smile was painted on your brother’s mouth as he cocked his head to the side.
“what? don’t look at me like that. i’m not dumb as others to not notice the smiles he sends you from across the hall or how you disappear to hang out with julie, when she’s alone in the common room.” he exclaimed, a few laughs left his mouth, when you still frozen, looked at him with horror in the eyes. “i’m happy for you, chill, ugly face.”
“you’re not mad? fuming? furious?” you asked, voice somehow still low when you entered the classroom. “will you try to name all the synonyms for mad? and i’m not, y/n. i’ll leave that for the other brother you have.”
you gave him a quick side hug, before occupying yourself with anything that the teacher said, scolding you for being late, again. however, all you had on your mind was the date, your soon-to-be-boyfriend took you on.
it was the date, you’d say… a surprise one, and with james, they were on the normal basis. he would somehow let you know that there are places you need to be at night and a guide on which type of clothes should you wear (and a few notes saying how good you look during the day). then, he usually awaits you beside the enterance to your common room under the invisibility cloak, waiting to finally be able to kiss you. three nights ago, you two ended up in the pub, drank a few butter beers and met a few people that sixteen and fifteen years old probably shouldn’t met at night, they acted nice though.
however the night when everything went downhilld was the night you were supposed to spend in the library, studying to the upcoming owls that stressed the living shit out of you since the beginning of school year. a cup of coffee standing beside the books to transmutation, your biggest nightmare, dark red stains adding a little life to the white cup that was emptying with every other moment.
you were about to get another sip of the sweet liquid you’d prepared earlier, when it was snatched from your hand while someone planted a sweet kiss on your lips. “hey, love.” his voice so soft, and delicate you almost passed out from the tingling, warm feeling in your abdomen.
love, love, love. you would let someone kill you to hear it one more time.
“jamie, hi.” you tilted your head to the side, smiling at the boy warmly. “that’s the first time i see you in the library, something happened?” he shook his head with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.
james was the only person along regulus that you had never minded having any form of physical touch, as you grew up with the minimum you sometimes got as a reward. with all the other boys that tried to get somewhere near you at the parties it was just weird, having their arms thrown around various parts of your body had never failed to make you uncomfortable, even with evan you couldn’t be fully okay.
but james… you craved it to function like a normal human being. his touch was like oxygen, the feeling of his hands on your waist, hips, hands was… enchanting, making you want to live again. it was like if you were in a romance book, having the full epic, first sight, soulmates love with a twist (your brother’s hatred towards you). was it love? you couldn’t say yet.
“just wanted to spend some time with ya, y’know?” his hand flew to his curls, ruffling it as he lowered his eyes, focusing himself on the books in front of you. “transmutation? the old hag loves me, you could’ve said something.”
“i tried to figure it out on my own, but i barely moved from the starting point…” you let out a low groan, hiding your head in your hands, exhausted. “didn’t want to be a bother, you know.”
“love, i got outstanding from my transmutation owls, it’s like an easy revision for me.” he planted a kiss on her check, before leaning closer and stealing another sip of her coffee. “i’ll get us something to eat and you’ll be first in your classes”
“mkayy, thank you, jamie.”
well. there wasn’t much of studying, if you were honest. when the lights went finally out, your boyfriend put the invisibility cloak on top of you, so ms. prince wouldn’t catch you past the curfew. the minute she closed the library’s door, you felt potter’s lips crashing into yours, one of his hands pulling off fabric of the cloak.
he sat you down on the table, tossing the books aside. his hand gripping your thigh firmly, after sliding it underneath the fabric of your skirt. you could feel the burning marks his touch left on your skin, heated kisses tracing down your neck with hickies almost all over it.
you would probably keep going if it wasn’t for someone that dropped whatever they had in their hands upon seeing you two. before you could notice any characteristics of the person you heard james let out a mumble “oh fuck”.
and then you saw your brother’s face.
oh fuck indeed.
he stormed to you and before james could even react, he was hit by the shoulder of sirius whose eyes were still on your face. “stay the fuck away from my brother.” the way he empathized the word brother made you feel like someone just stabbed you in the back repeatedly. with the moment these words left his mouth, your whole expression changed to the emotionless and blank, the one you gave everyone but your friends.
“sirius…” your boyfriend sighed, his hand, the one that had a grip on your thigh, was now on the oldest boy’s shoulder. “don’t. this is between me and her.”
“stop messing with my friends’ heads. you don’t deserve to be near them, none of them is a fucking deatheather like you or the other one, none of them will ever be, because unlike you two, they’re good.” he spat, eyes burning with fury. “i don’t care how many of your charming smile you had to give him to take the amortentia from you, but it’ll end, sooner or later.”
“you don’t even know me, sirius.” you stated, your tone still and awfully cold as you got off the table and stood in front of your brother. “don’t act like you do, brother.”
“don’t call me that.” he replied, taking your wrist in his hand. “i don’t fucking care that we grew up together, that we share our last names. we’re not siblings since you and regulus joined his forces. so stay the fuck away from james, he doesn’t even love you, the only thing he talks 'bout is evans.”
“does he, really?” you cocked your head to the side, not letting his words influence you, not here. “you know, maybe your so-called brother wouldn’t have to lie to you if you weren’t so obsessed with hatred you have towards me and regulus. maybe he could tell you that he was the one who started bugging the shit out of me, maybe he could tell you how did we even meet.”
you could see sirius flinch, averting his gaze to potter, who tried to get in between you for a moment now. “don’t tell me it’s true, prongs, after what she did to me?”
“what i did to you? you were the one who left, brother, you’re the one who cut us off the second we were sorted to slytherin, you runaway and you’re mad, because i and reg were fucking kids who wanted to survive.” your voice broke, nevertheless, it didn’t stop you. “you didn’t even try to do something, save us, yet both of us were so fucking stupid defending you whenever someone brought you up. i broke lucius’ nose when he talked shit about you, but fucking evans is closer to being your sister than me, i’m so sick of it.” you couldn’t hold up your coldness, and calmness and you broke down within the end of the sentence, mascara smudged all over your cheeks as you cried while running out of the room.
you didn’t expect james to run down after you — you thought he’d stay with his friend, becuase there weren’t anyone you thought would run after you (excluding regulus, because he would jump into the flames with you). so when your boyfriend barged into the moaning myrtle’s bathroom you were shocked.
“baby…” he spoke out quietly, pulling you into a hug, gentle but tight. you didn’t even look at him, just cried your eyes out while breaking his heart by saying how tired you are of everything, and how you wanted sirius to be your brother again. a few kisses were planted on your hair as he tried to calm you down.
“jamie, please don’t leave me now.” you pulled away to look at him, eyes already red and swollen from tears. you weren’t used to show how vulnerable you were, and a thought of your boyfriend leaving you, because of it was so realistic in your head.
“what? why would i?” he knitted his eyebrows. “y/n, i love you and i know that deeply inside you care about what sirius think of you, but you have nothing to be sorry about, okay? with that said, i won’t leave you, never, okay?” you nodded lightly, resting your head on his shoulder.
“i love you too.” you whispered. “at least we don’t have to hide anymore, right?” a small smile painted on your lips upon your words.
“it’s us against the world right now, love.”
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bunny-yan · 8 months
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Hello!! Thanks for sharing your writing with us! I'm a fan of your Hero/Reincarnated Reader story! :D Personally, I find it very cathartic lol
I've read the manga you based your story on a long time ago (tbh they did not give justice to the previous reincarnations AT ALL in my opinion), but do you have plans to expand on why Hero left Reader for each reincarnation in your story? Is there something deeper at play here (on Hero's side or even Reader's side because I think feelings of love or even basic affection would dissipate after the second reincarnation) or is it simply he wanted to play around with others and string along Reader each time? Do you think there will be another love interest that will show up in this current life?
If escape doesn't work, how would Hero react if Reader took their own life instead? And if Reader is successful, would they be "cursed" in the next life to be Hero's childhood friend? lolol
I know it's not possible, but I think it'd be beautiful karma for Reader to fall in love and marry someone else because I feel like that would really kill Hero lol
Sorry for the question spam, but thank you again for your stories and I hope to see more adventures of Hero/Reader! :D
(Btw, how will King fit into all this or was the King/Reader/Hero story a one-off?)
So I do plan on expanding on Tasman's reasoning for leaving Reader behind and you're pretty close to his reasoning, but I thought I'd expand on how the darling would commit suicide in this particular ask. I think it would also be pretty interesting to watch Tasman suffer and be forced to watch his darling find happiness with someone else so def saving that for a future draft!
The Sharing is Caring Series are one-off stories that include two+ yans, but if you're interested in seeing that sort of dynamic I am more than willing to write for it! Hopefully this answered your question <3
TW:Mentions Death, Depictions of Violence, Implied Violence, Suicide, Language, Infantilization, Minors DNI
It began slowly. 
If you moved too quickly he would notice because he caught anything and everything. Watching you was a hobby of his and when you weren’t allowed to leave his sight, it was no surprise that he got good at it. 
You didn’t come on too strong. 
It was hard to imagine he’d have anything other than suspicion if you put on a lovey dovey act, throwing yourself into his arms and professing your love when you couldn’t stand the sight of him the week before. Couldn’t stand his words whether they called you selfish or repeated his desperate love. Couldn’t stand his hands as they grabbed at you, forcing you to comply while convincing himself that this was what you also wanted, you were just too blind to see it. Too angry. 
The goddess knew what she was doing, tying your souls together and to fight a fate as destined as the two of yours? 
It was foolish. 
So you played the fool. 
You let him think that you were slowly coming around to his way of thinking. 
You couldn’t forget the look on his face when you actually apologized in the middle of a heated argument. He was yelling about the distance you were creating between the two of you, telling you that you weren’t letting your love and relationship grow if you were going to continue to treat him like a monster and you snapped an apology in his face. 
It wasn’t sweet and demure, it didn’t even hold an ounce of regret, but it was an apology nonetheless and the last words he expected to come out of your mouth. 
You crossed your arms, looking away from him and when it took him a moment to regain himself, telling you that he was grateful that you were finally seeing reason, you held back the vicious words you wanted to hurl into his face. 
Oh, you loved when his face would twist in outrage or hurt or better yet a mix of the two. 
It meant nothing good for you or for your body the next day leading to the week after but sometimes you couldn’t ignore the momentary satisfaction of letting him know just how you felt. 
But you would endure. You would wait and bide your time for the one thing you’d wanted to do since you’d memorized the number of cracks in each of the four walls, restarting your count whenever he blew his top, taking his anger out on them instead of you. 
Tasman was smart. He was suspicious when the two of you began to argue less, a questioning look piercing your body. 
You didn’t yell until you lost your voice, you didn’t give him the silent treatment, or call him an awful monster, no. 
He was right. 
Yes, you were being selfish for refusing the gift that was his presence.
You were inconsiderate for not thanking him for stealing you away from your life, ruining any chance you had at peace and true happiness. 
He was so right when he told you that he knew what was best for the two of you and that when you denied it, you didn’t really know what you were saying. You were just confused. 
Selfish, inconsiderate, confused. Keeping up the facade was harder than you thought it’d be. 
Whenever he came to you, upset about something you did or some affection you didn’t give, you just mumbled out an apology, going back to doing whatever it was you were doing. 
Tasman felt complex. He didn’t understand why one moment he couldn’t get through to you and the next you understood what he’d been trying to get across so desperately for months. When he finally asked, you told him that you were tired of arguing. You were tired of not being happy. That maybe you had overreacted when he came back. That despite him not being able to get it right for the first eight lives the two of you spent together it would only hurt the two of you further if you continued to bring up the past. You wanted to move on, to start anew. To give the two of you a chance. 
You couldn’t explain the look on his face. 
It was hopeful. It was… something you might have fallen for had you not already come so far. 
It took some time getting used to your willing affection. 
He’d stiffen when you’d lean against him when the two of you were riding a horse to your next destination, not twisting in uncomfortable ways to avoid him. You accepted the meals he brought to you, going so far to make him tea when he seemed stressed. You didn’t stray too far away from the camp and when you did you didn’t throw a tantrum, telling him that he needed to give you space or that he was suffocating you. His hands were hesitant when they touched you but his desire quickly made him comfortable. You no longer sneered or pulled away, you would rest in his arms when he held you. Something he could only dream about the last few months. But his dream were becoming a reality. 
A part of him was suspicious, afraid that this was too good to be true that your behavior was a front to attempt another plan of escape but the other part of him, the hopeful part of him wanted to believe.
You wanted to be with him. You wanted to be happy with him. 
Lost in thought, he smiled when you came over, serving him your usual herbal tea. You said it was meant to relax him, and he’d definitely felt as if he was on cloud nine. Maybe being able to pull you into his lap as he did, was apart of his feeling of floating on air but he didn’t think about it too deeply. 
“Lover?” he began, resting his chin on your shoulder. 
You hummed, your usual response whenever he required your attention. 
What was he going to say? 
He felt like this was good to be true. He felt as if this was all a ruse and that you were hiding something deeper, something more sinister. 
Sure he felt off, but maybe he was just second guessing himself. Maybe everything was fine and he just couldn’t imagine happiness for himself. Maybe it had been so long that it seemed impossible but the two of you had nothing if not hope. Hope that you could finally get it right this time. Hope that you could understand a fraction of the feelings he has for you, even if you couldn’t return them… right now. 
“It’s nothing.” he said after a long pause, heaving out a sigh. “Just promise me something?”
Humming again, he gripped you tighter before saying, “Promise me that we’ll always be together like this.”
There was a short pause, he felt a small inkling of fear that grew insurmountably in the time it took for you to respond, but he let out a breath of relief that didn’t quite ease his worries when you finally said, 
“I promise.”
~*~
Tasman woke up and immediately knew that something was wrong. 
He’d been tired but he’d never felt anything like this. His body was heavy like lead, each muscle refusing to move and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. It took all the strength in his body to blink and when his vision finally cleared he saw shadows dancing across the ceiling. 
His hearing might have been the one sense that hadn’t been impeded because he could hear the familiar song you used to sing when the two of you were younger. It’d been so long since the last time he’d heard it. 
It took a considerable amount of strength to turn his head and when he saw you, sitting in your familiar corner on the windowsill he felt his heart ache to call out to you, but it was difficult to swallow, to speak. 
You stopped humming when you heard his breathing turn ragged. 
Turning around, he didn’t like the unconcerned look in your eyes as you watched him. 
“You’re awake?”
“What… what did you do to me?”
Your expression didn’t change, glancing back towards the window as you pulled your legs closer. 
“I was worried that I’d get caught. I knew you were suspicious, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.”
“What did you do?” he asked, voice lacking his usual seething tone due to whatever you had done. He’d been too close to you for you to make deals with any dark mages. The time and effort it took would be too long, too strenuous and too obvious. 
This couldn’t be magic.
“Did you know the goddess created an entirely new system for your body?” you asked, voice curious as you rested your head on your knees. “It should’ve been obvious. Your body is impervious to the heat, cold, wind, sand, or snow, and most physical and magical attacks do nothing to hurt you.”
You frowned, “It’s unfair. It’s no wonder the demon king never defeated you in any of our past lives.”
Tasman’s breath was ragged. He didn’t want to know. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Answer me.”
Looking at him, he was unnerved with how unbothered you were. “I tested it out. How much poison I could feed you without you noticing before it started having an effect but it never worked. But of course I should’ve figured that lethal doses in regular people would do nothing to you.”
You laughed, humorless and dry as you shook your head. “Do you know the trouble I went to to make sure you wouldn’t pick up on it? And you were too eager at the opportunity of a relationship that you let me do it.” 
“You-You can’t hurt me. Whatever you did I’ll-”
You shook your head, almost disgusted. 
“Tasman, this was never about hurting you.” 
He watched as your feet slid down the windowsill, light illuminating the edges of your body. You took slow, measured steps as you spoke, a whisper of a smile on your face. 
“I prayed to the goddess that you wouldn’t feel it. That there was a chance, that for once in one of my lives I’d get what I wanted.” You felt yourself get emotional as you recalled everything you’d been through. “I waited for you. I wanted you to love me and I couldn’t have it. I wanted a new life and I couldn’t have it. I’ve tried everything, Tasman and you know what I've noticed. You were the reason for every misstep.” 
He tried shaking his head, tried telling you what he really meant what you meant to him. 
“I’m trying, I’ll try just please-”
You shook your head, the humorless laugh almost floating from your body. 
“It doesn’t matter. Do you really think that if you were willing to make things work it wouldn’t have happened by now? In any of our lives? It’s the goddess’s desire that we remain together and yet we can never make it work. You wouldn’t listen to me no matter how much I cried, screamed, protested that this wasn’t right. That you were hurting me.”
His throat was tight with emotion, pleading almost begging in the raspy tone of his. 
“Please, I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what was triggering his senses that something was wrong. It could’ve been whatever you had drugged him with but he had an ominous premonition. 
“You aren’t. If you were, we wouldn't be here right now and I wouldn’t have had to repeat myself so many times.” 
Shaking your head, he finally noticed the glint against the silver metal, watching as it raced before you put the hilt of the blade against your head. 
“You don’t listen. You don’t care what I have to say. I throw tantrums as far as you’re concerned. And the minute I leave you drag me back and treat me like a petulant child, scolding me for leaving your side.” 
You didn’t know if you were talking to yourself or if this was for him but you couldn’t stop. 
“When I want you, you want nothing to do with me and when I want nothing to do with you, I can’t get two seconds without you breathing down my neck.”
“What-”
“I want nothing to do with you and yet I have to force myself to tolerate your existence, tolerate you touching me, choke on the words you force down my throat just for the chance that you’d leave me alone long enough to find the right herb. Just long enough to not notice what I mixed in your drinks.”
His froze in realization. How long had you planned this?
“And it finally worked.” You smiled, coming near the bedside and crouching in front of him. You could see the anger in his eyes up close without fear that he’d lash out at you. 
“How could you do this to me?” 
You gave him a mock pout, cocking your head to the side. “Poor Tasman. It must’ve been so rough getting everything you ever wanted. Everyone’s love and affection, the power of the world at your fingertips, even my love!” For the first time you got angry. “You had my fucking love in your hands and you crushed it. You treated me as if I didn’t matter to you. And I guess at the end of the day, I don’t.” A harsh laugh escaped from your lips as you narrowed your eyes on him. “I’m no hero. There aren’t millions of people who are relying on me to defeat the big bad demon king. There wouldn't be riots in the street if I up and disappeared and there won’t be, because it isn’t the case for you. You won’t disappear. You’ll just keep coming up with new ways to make sure I’ll never be able to escape from you and they won’t bat an eye. Because you matter to people. You matter. Even if you’d abandon them the next day for your own selfish greed.”
“What are you going to do with that?” he asked, understanding his meaning when his eyes looked at the blade in your hand. 
You sneered, narrowing your eyes as you said, “Don’t worry. This isn’t for you.” 
It didn’t take him long to figure out what you meant. 
“Don’t. This is stupid. We’ll just start over and I’ll know. Let’s just work this out and we can-”
Standing, you brushed off your clothes, the gesture nervous as you looked down at the sharp blade. 
“It was never about you.” you said quietly. You gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
He was getting desperate. He couldn’t threaten you, he couldn’t beg or plead or say anything to convince you against this. 
“You promised.”
There was a pause and for a moment he felt that maybe you’d reconsider. That you’d realize that your behavior was hysterical and that you take a moment to calm down. 
“I did and I’ll keep my promise.”
Looking at him, you shook your head. 
“You said it yourself. We’ll just start over.”
The slow realization in his eyes was enough. 
“I want you to live with what you did to me. I want you to know that I'll never let you hurt me again.”
It happened before he could say anything. 
Your movements were sharp and jerky, stumbling after plunging the blade into your throat. 
He felt his soul cry out, begging his body to move, pleading to the goddess that he’d give anything, sacrifice anything if he could just get to you in this moment. He could heal you if you would just come a little closer, but you staggered against the windowsill, moving farther away, staring at him as you began to choke on your blood. 
He watched you suffer, watched your body twitch and fight against the pain, and watched as you finally went still. Leaning against the side of the windowsill, still staring at him. 
Tasman couldn’t move. 
His body wouldn’t listen to him. He felt tears slide down the side of his face as he choked on a strangled cry. 
He couldn’t move. 
He felt the overwhelming, aching desire to cradle you in his arms. To hold you close. To wipe the blood away from your face. To shut your accusing eyes but he couldn’t move. 
Whatever you had given him kept him in a docile state. Kept him still and feeling too guilty to look away from your eyes. Your soulless eyes. He could tell. He felt as if something was missing from his own as he continued to stare into the eyes missing life, the eyes he’d watch fade quickly. 
Too quickly. 
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chrollohearttags · 8 months
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kinktober day one
character: choso kamo
show: jujutsu kaisen
kink: pegging
word count: 1.7K
other themes + warnings: male sub, anal play, (obv) mommy kink, oral sex, strap on, spit play, choking, dom reader, overstimulation, cumshot, slapping
📝: some of my stuff I’ll be posting is inspired by videos so I’ll try to link the sauce material if I find it and this one happened to be inspired by this. Enjoy 🌚 (nsfw link btw! click with caution)
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.───── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.───── ・
dating choso kamo was an experience like none other you’ve had before..being with him had taught you so many things you’d never even thought to imagine. He brought forth shades of you that possibly may have never been revealed otherwise and although some may say, you two had no business being together…you could care less nor did you pay any mind to the chatter about him ‘below your standards’ or ‘not enough’. It was the furthest thing from and as far as you were concerned, he was perfect for you! The yin to your yang..a grade A stereotypical goth with his black clothing, painted nails and fishnets..along with tattoos lining his arm and his affinity for the guitar. A stark contrast to your more dainty and soft aesthetic; blazers and plaid skirts filled your wardrobe along with babydoll platforms and lighter colors. Mirroring that of every quintessential ‘pastel gf/goth bf’ meme when together..even so, the love you shared was equally reciprocated and abundant on every level. Despite your obvious differences in personality, appearance and even interests. But there was one thing you found common ground on..something that would shock anyone who knew you for your outward appearances.
“Open up, baby boy…gonna get it nice and wet for me, right?”
“Mmphm..yes..”
a pair that by all accounts, regardless of contrast..looked innocuous, sweet and so delicate. Little did anyone know that once you got behind closed doors, those masks were peeled away and the facades faded rather quickly. More so, when it came to being in the bedroom. Most would probably guess that your grungy, dark eyed stud took the reins between the sheets. Probably a more softer, sweeter dom with a gentle approach but still in charge nonetheless. However…they’d be sadly mistaken! Especially considering the fact that you were gently stroking the side of his face whilst he sucked off the silicone cock you had harnessed to your thick thighs. The two of you had just come home from a rather eventful Halloween party..drunk and dressed in rather salacious costumes. You in a sexy demon costume that left little to the imagination and Cho in his incubus get up with wings included. Truthfully, (y/n) had dreamt of seducing and dominating your man for a long time and this was the perfect excuse. Wondering just how well he’d fair when he was no longer in control. As it turned out, he loved it far more than anticipated. So much so, each time you guys got intimate, Choso insisted that you take the lead. Whatever you wanted, he was at your whim and mercy.
currently seated on all fours, he’d take subtle kitten licks at the tip before taking it a little further. Hand rested atop his head as you guided him along so carefully..akin to the many times he had done the same to you. Watching those pouty little lips of his coil around that plastic shaft and glide across all eight inches. “Look at you..so cute and pathetic. Sucking on this dick like a good boy. Are you enjoying yourself? You like pleasing mommy, don’t you?” Cooing with such a seductive tone and he loved it. If he knew what was good for him, he’d get it nice and slicked up..with his back slightly arched and hands planted into the mattress, he’d focus intensely on slurping up that fictitious dick; allowing you to fuck his mouth with as much subtly or force as you pleases. He was your bitch..your toy to mold and play with at your leisure. Behind these four walls, without judgemental eyes to pry, you made love the way you saw fit.
“Good job, baby..you took the whole thing that time. And you didn’t even gag..you’re learning.” Offering up an encouraging smile and swipe of a thumb across his pale cheek. Your thumb rested between his teeth before being replaced by your strap on yet again. You could see him discreetly attempting to cup at his own member. What he wouldn’t give to jerk himself as he worshiped your perfect physique before him; perfectly round, big tits, brown, supple skin and dark areolas with puffy nipples. Nipples he wished to flick his tongue around as you bounced him up and down on that dildo. It would be nothing short of a dream but alas, it was a mere privilege. And privileges were earned. Getting to touch you in any capacity right now was something he’d have to work hard for. However, you wanted to explore a little more of that sexy body. You wanted to see how he’d deal with being placed on all fours, waiting to be mounted as you gripped his waist and he tossed his ass back..you surely were about to find out!
“..turn around, baby boy. I think you’re ready for me now..” giving the command to face towards the scattered plushies strewn about your bed and the wall as you saddled up behind him. With a quick tug to his neatly tied pigtails, you’d snatch his head back just so you could watch his initial reaction when you slid in.
“Mmm…fuck—wanna be so full of you right now..” the uttering of that phrase alone causing your pussy to quiver. You were a leaking mess between your thighs and had those straps not been in the way, you’d be trying to get off as well but right now, it was his turn to be slutted out. “Don’t worry, my sweet love. I’m gonna take such good care of you..just relax.” Giving him a barrage of reassuring, sloppy kisses. So with that, you’d prompt him to place his hands on both asscheeks behind his back and spread them open. That puckering little entrance was practically twitching for you to get inside of him. Whereas many men would shy away from the idea of being impaled on a cock, Choso knew that the ultimate pleasure lay in that exact spot. He wasn’t ashamed of getting stuffed full to fulfill his desires. Panting like a stray pup, he’d wait patiently as you slicked it up with lube and even massaged some onto his entrance. The sheer sensation of the cooling liquid made him shudder but you were quick to massage his skin..hoping to quell that anxiety. Leaning forward, (y/n) clutched three fingers around his throat, slightly tilting his head backwards before teasing that tip around the rim of his little entrance.
“Ooh, Cho..you’re so handsome, baby boy..so fucking cute like this.”
and it was that exact declaration that had him ready to be used any way you desired. And seconds after uttering so—
“G’ahh! F-fuck!” A loud cry erupted from his mouth; gentle whimpers falling from those pouty, trembling lips as you impaled him on that toy and tugged him back towards you. “But you look even cuter getting fucked.” Coaxing a chuckle from you whilst bucking your hips forward..those long fingernails coiled throughout his wavy black locks as you used them to keep him controlled, along with a hand on the small of his back. You tried your hardest to mirror his own rhythm but soon, you found a pace of your own that worked for both of you..especially when you could hear your boyfriend whining and crying out for more. It was something so hot about watching this man writhe his hips and try to wiggle his ass to meet your thrusts. You’d lean up a little to spit onto his orifice, giving him a little extra wetness.
“Yeah? That feel good, baby? You’re doing sooo good taking mommy’s strap right now. I love it..” receiving that type of praise from you had Choso ready to burst right now but he exercised restraint and just clasped the pillows in front of him as he tried to maintain that arch. His own cock was throbbing and his prostate being stimulated beyond relief. He was a firm believer that every man should try this at least once!.. “..th—thank you..thank you so much…fucking me so good.” So desperate for a release as that pressure began to build. He looked so utterly pathetic, it was adorable. Remnants of his eyeliner staining his cheeks and those guttural groans becoming louder by the second. Clutching a hand around his throat, you’d tug him back even further and impale that toy deeper. “So gracious…just for that, jerk that dick for me, baby. C’mon, stroke that shit while I fuck this little ass. I know you wanna come so badly..” and that would be an understatement; crying out, Choso hooked a hand underneath his torso and began to rub the tip of his cock in his palms, letting that seeping precum lubricate his palm. Eventually, he’d speed up a little as it was all he could bear. But that wouldn’t last long when you’d begin to dote on him.
“It’s okay, baby boy..you can come. It’s okay to nut from getting fucked like this. As long as you feel good, that’s all that matters..nothing to be ashamed of..”
it was at that moment, he’d begun to lose control and began shaking, so close to reaching his orgasm. Legs trembling, arch breaking and his balls swollen to the brim. Once you gave him the signal and permission to let go, he didn’t hesitate and before you knew it:
“G-g..GAHHHH! Fuck!” It was as if something had shattered inside of him at that very second and his warm, juicy load began to spill all over your bed sheets. Opaque cream meshing with the pink linen..a dumbed out expression on his face and tears rolling down his cheek. You’d make haste in comforting him as you leaned forward and placed a kiss to his temple before letting your lips meet in a haze of sloppy, passionate kisses. He was so elated and in indescribable ecstasy right now. Nothing felt better than this!
“I love you…I love you so fucking much..”
“I love you more, Cho..you did so good, I’m so proud of you..”
and you’d help bring him to this climatic high anytime he wanted.
@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @anubisisthebomb @crazychaoticizzy @makaylasierra789 @momobaby227 @certified-stargirl @thickbihhwitdagapp @kameko-ko @valentineluvu @mukurosbracup @prettypink-princesss @bleach-your-panties
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hollowtakami · 2 months
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Hi! I really like your Hawks fics, I love him so much, it hurts. I want to make a request, if it's fine. How, do you think, will Hawks tell fem reader his real name? I feel like he needs time for it, like a year or something, will he just going to say it randomly amid the conversation or he will prepare himself and reader for it? Thank you in advance!!
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hiya anon! tysm for this request!! this was really interesting to write, i can’t tell if it’s an imagines or more of a character study - but i loved writing it nonetheless. thank you for stopping by! ^_^
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Hawks might have a silver tongue gifted to him by the Commission, but Keigo Takami is nothing but pyrite.
At least, that’s how he sees himself.
Even before he met you, he always wondered if he was capable of being loved, being the son of Takami The Thief and coming from extreme poverty.
Then, he met you. The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, breathed life into his dead heart. You were on his mind constantly; the sweetness of your voice, the softness of your hair - god, how he wanted to run his hands through your hair and hold you.
It took him a while to ask you out, simply because of his low self-esteem. He feared that you could do better, but he also feared that the ‘better’ would come and steal you from him.
The only thing was - you knew him as Hawks. Hawks, one of Japan’s top heroes. The suave bachelor with wings redder than the faces of his admirers every time he soared into view.
He was afraid you wouldn’t accept Keigo. He was nothing compared to Hawks. Still, he would rather lose his wings than lose his girl.
He asks you out rather suddenly, calling you in the early morning. You could tell he’d been up, pacing his room as his mind paced around his skull at the thought of asking you to be his girlfriend.
You’d accepted, of course. You loved him, you just didn’t know there was more of him under all his feathers.
A year into your relationship, you couldn’t ignore that it seemed as though Keigo was hiding something.
He was almost on autopilot, distant from everyone, from you. It hurt, especially since you had no idea why.
So, you confronted him. You sit down on the edge of the bed in your shared apartment, fear glazed over your eyes.
When you ask if he was hiding something, Keigo’s heart sinks. He knew it was time. He couldn’t lose you, he loved you more than he loved himself. You were his girl, and nobody else’s.
“My name…is Keigo Takami.”
You were visibly confused, Keigo desperate to read you for any signs of abandonment. Then, it clicked.
Hawks was yours, but Keigo always had been. He had just been waiting for the right time to unfurl his wings, show himself to you.
After a hard conversation for the both of you, he’d explained everything and completely opened himself up to you. It was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him in your time together, feathers sharpened, more on edge than he was. Hardly making eye contact and messing with his hair, he fumbled through his story.
And you hung on to every word. You were his, he was yours. Keigo was yours. Hawks was just a part of him, not who he really was.
Hawks was pyrite. Keigo was gold.
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nogenderbee · 2 months
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hello! May I request Lucifer, Solomon, Barbatos, and Simeon with a s/o who's a master at textile design?
I can't help but imagine how grateful Lucifer would be if they tailored him 5 different suits.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hii! Yeah of course! Not really sure about it, the first 2 chars at least but... I really hope you'll like it at least a little bit nonetheless!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff
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✧ Lucifer is indeed so so glad for your tailoring skills
✧ do you know how many suits of his are devasted because of his brothers antics and how many of his suits got holes in them because 2 of his brothers decided to cut holes in them one day?
✧ and if you agree to fix that for him, he'd be even more glad, you'll literally have his gratitude and special treatment!
✧ and he's definitely gonna try watching over his brothers to not use you too much... but then again, he'd probably be doing that himself!!
✧ the second you stop minding and asking you to sew something becomes neutral... be ready to be given those tasks more often... here curtain needs some fixing, here another cloth, here tablecloth, really anything!!
✧ he may accidentally give you too much so feel free to tell him about it! You already did enough so he'll accept it and try to not give you this much at once again
"Y/N, could I ask you to fix another suit for me? Allow me to explain... Satan and Belphie thought it was amazing idea to..."
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✧ Barbatos is a bit similar to Lucifer... but at least more gentler and understanding
✧ trust me, he knows how having too much on your head is like so he won't ever do it to the one's he cares about
✧ he doesn't even come to you with his own clothes! He literally will ask you to sew a curtain or something and not to save money, but because event is coming and service is getting late...
✧ you'll most likely have to tell him you can handle more work because otherwise, he's a bit too scared to overwork you... especially that you're human so your limit must be way lower than his!
✧ I have a feeling like he can sew himself but sometimes just doesn't have time for it... so that's when you come in! But mostly, you'll get the "I can do it myself in free time but thank you" answer
✧ if anything, he'd be more interested in you designing textiles! It's obviously most important part, so he'll honestly have lot of respect for what you do! Even if your work doesn't match his style... he'll still support you in what you do
"I'm sorry for interrupting you but may I ask you to fix this for me? I apologize if it's too much, I can explain everything in 10 minutes... I only need to finish few tasks first."
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✧ I feel like Solomon saw many who could sew and even tried that himself! He just never got that skill somehow and always ends up poking needle against his finger but accident... which leads to him eventually dropping whatever he was trying to sew
✧ but he can't decline it's useful skill so when he sees that his lover can do that, he's more than happy to watch you!
✧ but he does get nervous sometime that you'll also hurt yourself with a needle... which leads to him distracting you from time to time unfortunely...
✧ believe me, he has many clothes that need to be tailored but he never really had time to give that to someone or skill to do that himself! So if you notice that and offer to tailor one of his clothes... he'll pull out pile of many others... GOOD LUCK
✧ basically, he's just gonna be impressed and concerned... but if you decide to teach him... he'll be more than happy!
✧ he may actually not get it as easily as you'd want him to but a bit of more patience and he'll get it eventually
"Hey watch out! You'll hurt your-... Oh... well I guess your fingers are skilled enough to avoid it... well that's impressive... Would you mind sharing this little secret with me?"
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✧ Simeon maybe doesn't have too much experience with simple sewing, but he seems like the kind of person who'd enjoy embroidery!
✧ and those two are close enough + he most likely can sew basic things like fixing clothes, so you actually for few topics
✧ when he discovers you're tailor and textile designer, he'd be actually more interested in second part, just because he already knows enough about first part
✧ he'd be happy to see your scratches compared to the final product or maybe even see some materials used in actual clothes if you have some
✧ it's most likely first time he sees someone doing that with so much passion so he'll definitely listen to all of your possible rambles
✧ in fact, instead of just nodding, he also asks to the questions to show you how interested he is!
✧ but like mentioned before, he can only see simple things so when he sees you seeing clothes, he's also really impressed! And most likely will ask if he can watch you work, to both learn something maybe and watch over you so you won't hurt yourself accidentally
"This is the first design? Wow... it's not even slightly similar to finished product... but it also had a potential... what if you release it but with few adjustments, since it didn't suit you in the first place? For example..."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌���﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@vodka-glrl - come get your soft angel~
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levisrations · 2 months
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Dad'Levi in the Morden au?
Dad Levi in a modern au is against ipads. Refuses to let your child use one. The occasional miss rachel on tv but that’s it.
Am i completely pushing it by saying Levi would love to be a stay at home dad? He would love his routines with his baby. But he will feel relief when you get back to take over once you’ve showered and changed.
This is me projecting by I love the thought of after dinner, everything is clean, all three of you spend time together in the living room while you play a video game and the baby rests on your chest. Baby is comforted by the two of you just talking about your day and you play your video games.
Levis the hot dad at baby swimming classes. Everyone swoons at him and are shocked by how hands on he is.
Constantly has to take away remotes and phones out your babys hands/mouth. Finds it amusing when the kid dramatically falls and starts crying over having something taken away. He just sits there and stares until the kid calms down, offers options so they can forget what they were even crying about.
Shopping with your kid is actually fun. A well behaved baby. Sits in the cart(which levi disinfected like crazy) and babbles and points at things. Baby loves to smile and wave at strangers which forces levi to interact with strangers (not a fan of that but his kid is happy)
Levi would most definitely be looking into prestigious pre schools as soon as he learned you we’re expecting. You would go tour the schools and he would have a million questions. Particularly how do they keep clean with a bunch of 3 to 4 year olds.
Very into your kid’s interests. Whatever they may be he would look it up so he can talk to your kid about it, buy him things about kid’s interests, take them places like museums or pop ups of whatever it is they’re interested in. He would love it because it’s bonding time.
And lastly Levis phone would be all pictures of your kid. It was pictures of you and your cats but it’s been overtaken by your child. Videos of your child being silly that he watches on a bad day, shares them with you while you’re at work or shows them to you before bed and you both laugh at them.
Levi absolutely loves being a dad, loves raising a child with you. He was absolutely nervous in the beginning i mean who wouldn’t be but he got the hang of it really quick and now can’t even think of a time when he didn’t have your child in his life.
Perhaps not what you asked for anon but appreciate the request nonetheless! 🫶🏽
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