#she’s tried to strip me of my desires and interests and emotions

[oohnotvery]

NEW FIC - WIP! Hand To Your Heart (Chapter 1)

Hi all,

This is my take on the classic trope of “Mulder and Scully decide to be friends-with-benefits. Surely they can keep their emotions to themselves, right? Oh, and add in a little Fowley angst.”

This isn’t totally canon-compliant because I genuinely don’t understand the mytharc and don’t care to get better acquainted with it.

As usual, this is a WIP and will have a happy ending (MSR). My last fic proved to me that I shouldn’t promise any true regularity in updating, but I do try to update about 2-3 times a week.

Enjoy, and as always, thank you for reading and commenting! Find me on AO3 (oohnotvery)!

-E.

tagging @today-in-fic

Scully

They haven’t tried this position before, but Scully is glad it’s what Mulder wants tonight. Here on his bed, with her ass in the air and her eyes pinned to the pattern of his duvet, it is a welcome relief not seeing his face as he approaches orgasm.

When they initiated this little arrangement five weeks ago, she didn’t put much—if any—thought into which sex positions they might try. At the time, all she really cared about was getting him naked regularly, having the chance to touch his body without hesitation, and being able to engage in her most recurrent fantasy—sex with Mulder—without a hint of shame.

Of the fifteen times they’ve had sex, they’ve tried a lot of things together: missionary, cowgirl, standing, spooning, going down on the other, and one time, he even convinced her to sit on his face. Although she blushed from head to toe at that last one, she has a feeling that for the rest of her life, it will stand out in her memory as the most thigh-trembling, toe-tingling, spine-curling orgasm of her life.

So tonight, when he tossed her face down on the bed, she was a little surprised. They’ve never tried doggy style before. Although in past relationships she’s enjoyed the feeling of being taken from behind, she hasn’t been too interested in trying a position with Mulder that feels so . . . detached.

Her surprise quickly gave way, however, to a deep surge of relief. Tonight, he’s not pulling her into his lap or positioning them like he normally does—foreheads touching, gazes locking as they come in near synchronicity. No. That would be far too intimate tonight.

Maybe he’s feeling it too, she thinks as he pauses to shove her legs even wider apart. Her clit is nearly touching the mattress now and she resists the urge to grind down into his bed. She doesn’t want him to see her so needy. Not tonight, not when the tension between them has escalated to a fever pitch. Not when they can barely look each other in the eyes.

It was a mistake to come here, she thinks as he starts slamming into her. She is too vulnerable, too emotional, stripped bare after a week of confusion, jealousy, and disloyalty.

But the little chicken-scratch note he slapped on her desk today was too tempting to ignore.  

Tonight, my place. Be there at eight.

All of their prior dalliances have begun either with flimsy pretense or mutual understanding: she’s stopping by for a drink, he’s coming over to share notes, they decide to leave work early, he books them conjoining motel rooms. Never has one summoned the other, not like this. Part of her really, really likes it, likes the way his demand makes her stomach swoop. The commanding tone of his request feels primal, possessive. It says you’re mine, and I will fuck you tonight whether you want me to or not.

Surrendering to her baser desires has been so, so easy lately, so when she saw his note, it was natural to consider allowing it one more time. They’ve been opposite soldiers on the battlefield all week. Maybe crossing enemy lines could yield reparations, understanding, an alliance.

No. She should have resisted. She should have remembered all the ways this week has ruined them. Wasn’t it just a few days ago that she met Diana Fowley? That she spied Mulder tenderly holding hands with this mysterious new agent? That she visited the Gunmen, only to learn the true nature of this woman from Mulder’s past? That she left their lair feeling humiliated, betrayed, and replaced? That she swore to herself she’d never sleep with Mulder again?

And she knows why Mulder demanded her company tonight. Although there hasn’t been an obvious pattern to their past hook-ups, she knows he’s using her. It’s part of why they agreed to this arrangement, right? Stress relief, a trusted partner with whom to engage in mutually beneficial safe sex. Completely emotion-free. Strictly platonic. And God knows Mulder has been through the ringer this week. Their office, burned. The X-Files, incinerated. Diana, shot and hospitalized. It makes sense that he’s using her body to drown out his worries, but it makes less sense that she’s just letting him. But . . . but he’s Mulder, and even if he’s been difficult and moody and elusive all week, he smells good and looks good, and she knows the way his tongue feels on her clit, and she knows the way he grins when she tells him she’s coming—

She gasps, returning violently to the present moment as Mulder pulls out all the way and slams his hips back into her. She grits her teeth as pleasure-mixed-with-pain ripples treacherously through her body. She buries her face in the duvet and tries to remind herself that Mulder has visited Diana in the hospital every day this week. In fact, she knows he was there today, because when he answered the door tonight, he still had a visitor’s badge taped to his t-shirt. As soon as she saw the ugly thing, she almost turned around and walked out. She can’t fuck someone who’s interested in someone else, right?

But he had grabbed her by the neck and hauled her into him, and because he’s a beautiful kisser, because his erection was so damn rigid against her jeans, because his breath tasted slightly of alcohol, she caved. He’s using her for sex? She could certainly do the same.

But tonight has been noticeably different than all their past visits. Over the last few weeks, she’s grown to expect Mulder to talk while he’s fucking her. Sometimes sweet, sometimes dirty, sometimes with a flick of his tongue in her ear, sometimes with his lips suctioned around her clit.

But he’s eerily silent tonight. Normally at this point, with sweat breaking out over their bodies and her clit screaming for attention, he’s beginning to move his mouth to her ear, starting to whisper things like good girl, come for me, you feel so fucking good, oh, I’m gonna come, Scully, your body is so sexy.

And yet, he hasn’t even touched her tonight. Usually, there’s long stretches of foreplay before he actually starts to fuck her. Most days, she’s already come once from his fingers or his mouth before he even begins to suggest penetrative sex. But tonight, he went from zero to sixty in a matter of minutes, and with his lack of attention and her growing indignation, her body’s arousal is dipping, dipping, dipping. She’s simply not wet enough for this.

He slams back into her and this time she cries out in real pain. That was too rough, she should say, and any other day, she would raise her head and tell him. And if he were truly in tune with her like normally, he’d notice her discomfort. He’d see the way her muscles are tensing, the way she’s leaning her hips away from him, the way her whimpers are growing more and more distressed.

But instead he just adjusts his grip, grabs her shoulder, and brings his other hand up to her breasts, plucking at her nipples. At first, the change is welcome—he’s touching me!—but then his fingers pinch hard. Too hard. She bites her lip until she tastes blood, but she’s tough, and she refuses to admit that it hurts. Not tonight.

He pounds out a half dozen more strokes then folds over her, his chest slick against her back, his mouth brushing up against her ear. Oh. Okay. Maybe he is going to talk her through her orgasm.

“Close?” he asks on a grunt, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to ask her that question. Usually by this point, she’s already telling him—both physically and verbally—that she’s nearing her orgasm.

The answer is no, no, she’s not close at all. She’s not going to come tonight, not with Diana Fowley and betrayal and a burned office and a distant partner on the brain.

“Scully?” he prods aggravatedly when she doesn’t answer. He’s gone still inside her and it’s a welcome relief. She’s never been this unresponsive to him, has never had a problem with her arousal around him. Hell, she’s been wet for five years. Tonight, though, he’s just not doing it for her.

But she can’t talk about it. There’s no conversation they could have that would improve the state of their relationship right now. She’s not going to admit to her insecurities around Diana Fowley, and he doesn’t even know the Gunmen revealed their secret dating history. It would be embarrassing—mortifying, really—to admit to such knowledge, to such feelings. So instead, she closes her eyes and nods.

“Yeah.”

He hesitates briefly before lifting off her back and sliding his hands back down to her hips. She bites the inside of her cheek as he pounds into her, five, six, seven, eight times, and then he’s coming. When he slips out and pushes her away onto her side, the breath sputters out of her in gasping relief. Her cunt is aching, and not in a good way. The only fluid down there is Mulder’s semen leaking out of her, and even that stings and itches against her sensitive walls. She squirms uncomfortably for a minute, wondering what he expects from her next. Normally, he tugs her into his chest and holds her for a long time, sometimes so long that she forgets to make an excuse about needing to go home. On more than one occasion, in fact, she’s woken up the next morning to his wandering hands under the sheets and a fresh cup of coffee on the nightstand.

She steals a glance behind her and to her consternation, his eyes are closed, his mouth half-open, his breathing deep and even. The bastard is already, impossibly asleep. Angry, outraged tears collect on her lashes as she realizes she’s been dismissed. There will be no sleepover tonight, no cuddling, no coffee in the morning. Indignantly, she swipes at her wet cheeks. She will not waste tears on this humiliation.  

Moving silently, she collects her things and heads to the bathroom to clean up. A quick glance at her watch tells her it’s not even nine o’clock yet. Jesus Christ, she hasn’t even been here an hour. Somehow, though, it’s been more than enough time for something sick and twisted to curl up in her gut, for a painful ache to weigh down her heart.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Sleeping with Mulder was never supposed to feel demeaning or humiliating. When they came up with this little arrangement, she imagined a lot of things, a whole host of possibilities: great sex, a more intimate bond, a relief to the tension that’s been building and building and building all these years. Of course—because she’s not an idiot—she also considered some the less pleasant outcomes: that the sex would be mediocre, that they wouldn’t “click” in this particular way, that he’d want to call it off after just one try.

But for all the ugly scenarios she did cook up, she never once allowed herself to face the truly terrifying possibilities. She never once imagined herself sneaking out of his apartment after a quick, unsatisfying fuck. She never once envisioned herself crying on the drive home as the twin pillars of shame and resentment took hold in her chest. She never once thought that she would be left broken and hurting after just five weeks of sharing his bed. She never once considered that she would leave his apartment feeling worse about herself than she did upon arrival.

And of course, naïve as she’s been, she never believed there could ever be another woman involved.  

In her car, she slams her fist on the steering wheel. God, why hadn’t she thought of these things? Why hadn’t she considered the possibility that things would go terribly, terribly wrong?

Because you’re in love, a small voice whispers.

She grinds her teeth and grips the wheel tighter, refusing to acknowledge the thought playing at the back of her mind. She will never let herself bring that particular idea to the light. It is dangerous, unwieldy. Being in love with Mulder isn’t an option. The foundation of their sexual arrangement is that the raging tension and chemistry between them is purely sexual. There are no emotions, save for the natural affection and fondness that comes with being partners for five years.

And although she’s always been good at shoving down her emotions, right now, they’re climbing higher and higher in her throat. If she opens her mouth, they just might spill out. Things like love, desire, devotion, passion. Things that are much heavier than friendship. Things that will break them.

Regret surges all around her, and she knows she has made a grave error in judgment. For her own sake, it is clear she needs to end this with him. The persistent flood tears tonight are proof alone that she has gotten too invested, too emotional. The gut-wrenching idea of Diana Fowley lurking in the background is evidence that Mulder never intended for this arrangement to mean anything.

So, she needs to end it.

And yet . . .

And yet, she can’t. Not without alerting him to the fact that she has significant feelings, feelings that he’s crushed to a pulp in just a few weeks.

In the parking lot of her building, she closes her eyes and rests her forehead on the wheel. She shoves past pesky emotions to dig deeper into clarity. So, she can’t end things, but she also can’t sleep with him again. Doing so would break her.

There’s a way to do this, though, a way that doesn’t involve letting onto her feelings or her pain. All she must do is let it fade into the background. Release Mulder to the world, to Diana Fowley, if he wants that woman. Politely refuse his invitations to hang out. Decline to initiate sex on her own. Eventually, someone else—likely a tall brunette with long legs and huge tits—will ensnare him, will entice him, will take him away from her.

Soon, Scully tells herself as she exits the car, he’ll stop coming to her for sex. Soon, they’ll slot back into their old, platonic partnership. Soon, she’ll stop thinking that she loves him.

And soon, she promises herself through gritted teeth, she will forget all the ways he made her feel like he might love her, too.

#mulder x scully #x files #dana scully #the x files #txf #fox mulder #x files fanfic #msr fanfic #msr #xfiles fanfic #fox mulder my beloved

[enigma-the-anomaly]

I hate when there is anger inside my body. I am very small and my feelings are very big :(

#it really just does not matter what I do huh #it’s spring break. I was up at 9:30 and happened to stay in bed for a bit and take my time showering and stuff #you know? cuz I’m on break? And can do whatever the Hell i want? #but apparently I was ‘sleeping all day’ according to my mom #and then she reminded me to wash my hair the next time I shower. which is code for ‘your hair looks like shit’ #it’s like that one bit from friends where they’re having a funeral for the geller’s grandmother #and Monica’s mom is like “can you imagine being criticized for every little thing you do? #it’s amazing that I grew up to be the life-affirming person I am” #the joke being that she criticizes everything Monica does and is constantly trying to “fix” her #always criticizing her outfit and hair and life choices #like. that’s exactly my mother. and guess what? I fucking hate her! #and—this is a horrible thing to say I know—sometimes I wish she would just hit me #because violence and bruises are easier to spot than the covert belittling and the slow chipping away at my self esteem #all while under the guise of helping me #as if she isn’t insulting me and treating me like a mini clone of her or a goddamn toy to entertain her #she never wanted me she wanted a dress up doll #she doesn’t want nano she never wanted nano she wants a perfect girl who marries a perfect guy #and has perfect grandbabies #she’s tried to strip me of my boricua heritage in unassuming little ways #she’s tried to strip me of my desires and interests and emotions #she’s tried to ignore my trauma and logic away my mental illness #she has tried to destroy every part of me everything that makes me what I am #and she is the victim. the one with the woefully annoying stupid disobedient daughter #because i have resisted her attempts to mold me into something that I’m not #vent #im just so tired of trying to be the person she wants me to be and never being good enough #I’m tired of feeling trapped #I’m tired of feeling like an awful person #I’m so sick of her

[maddymoreau]

I read this interesting post:

https://www.tumblr.com/rocket-69/691648665881886720/its-sixxers-fallout-fallen-knight-let-me?source=share

That discusses how while Victor is a lovable character he's a product designed to lure Courier Six into New Vegas. This post got my brain juices flowing so bad I made Tumblr glitch with how much I tried writing in the tags. So I had to make my own post.

I find it EXTREMELY interesting how all the AIs Mr. House created while fun and lovable are also products.

Jane being a copy of Mr. House's favorite girl a starlet he dated before the Great War. She's designed to entertain him similarly to how the workers at Gomorrah "entertain" customers.

Jane: "Mr. House has a lot of needs, sugar. I take care of all of them, and a lady doesn't kiss and tell."

There's also an emotional aspect to the services she provides him.

If he wanted her just for sex he wouldn't have specifcally scanned her brain. He could've gotten anyone. While famous Jane wasn't even a star but a starlet. A young actress with aspirations to become a star.

While he might have liked Jane's personality which is why he picked her. Ultimately their relationship was a business transaction.

Raul: "She said they never, um... don't make me spell it out, boss. Anyway, she said all he wanted to do was scan her brain and make her dress up in different outfits."

Mr. House scanned her brain to create an artificial relationship (separate from the real Jane) designed to satisfy his needs post Great War. Mr. House had the technology to save the real Jane but chose not to.

A lot of people also seem misunderstand the reason why Mr. House doesn't have sex with Jane. It's because he physically COULDN'T.

Ignoring cut content. Mr. House was already attached to the machine keeping him alive. He's connected to an Electrode-studded command helmet on the day of the Great War.

It's how Mr. House protected New Vegas:

Raul: "I remember there were some weird stories about him, especially near the end." NEAR THE END.

Mr. House takes Jane's personality to the EXTREME. Designing her to stoke and inflate his ego by being able to only say positive things about him. Jane is a product designed to provide Mr. House a service all while managing his snow globe collection. She doesn't even respond when the player says goodbye to her.

Then there's Mr. Vegas who was an AI created before the Great War. A charming DJ for Radio New Vegas to play music but also spread the news.

Mr. House also did to the same to the tribes by turning them into The Strip AKA a money making product.

He molds people into exactly what HE wants for his benefit.

The BIGGEST example of this was Benny! However that didn't work because Benny is human. Benny had his own ambitions and desires.

Mr House: "I have to think that he found out about the Platinum Chip and mistakenly convinced himself that he could use it to his own ends."

Mr. House even flat out admits it to the player.

Mr. House: "Benny has led the Chairmen ever since I recruited his tribe seven years ago. Until his recent misbehavior, I'd planned to make him my protege. Maybe if I'd begun grooming him sooner, none of this would've happened..."

Protege meaning a person who is guided and supported by an older and more experienced or influential person. He wanted to GUIDE Benny into a specific role. Which the player can even ask about.

Courier Six: "What use would you have for a protege?"

Mr. House: "To achieve my aims, I require a capable human agent to perform certain . . . tasks."

HE DOES THE SAME WITH COURIER SIX!!!

Testing them to see if they can get to New Vegas on their own.

This awesome post goes into more details about it:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/741007168343588864/veronicaroyce-it-always-bothered-me-that-mr?source=share

Mr. House even mentions you being a more-than-suitable replacement for the role he wanted Benny in.

ALSO during your first meeting with Mr. House this exchange can happen:

Courier: "Why the VIP treatment? I'm just a courier."

Mr. House: "Oh, don't be coy. You've been playing a high-stakes game ever since Victor dug you out of the ground. Don't be afraid to admit it."

DON'T BE AFRAID TO ADMIT IT. HE'S TEACHING YOU!!!! HE'S GUIDING YOU INTO THE ROLE HE WANTS!!!

Mr. House: "You see that you and I are of a different stripe, don't you? We don't have to dream that we're important. We are."

While Mr. House may act like he's above feelings and relationships. HE'S NOT!!!! It's why the player's karma can affect his ending SO MUCH!!!!

Another incredible post discussing it:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/740922764666585088/veronicaroyce-something-i-think-a-lot-about-is?source=share

A lot of people think Mr. House is an idiot for picking Benny but people forget Benny's drive. Hell just rewatch the intro cutscene where he shoots Courier Six.

Mr. House being human is also WHY he picks Benny despite Swanks being far more loyal. Swanks is an unimaginative employee.

MR. HOUSE LIKE'S BENNY'S PERSONALITY. HE NOT STUPID HE KNOWS WHAT BENNY PERSONALITY IS LIKE!!!

Mr. House: "I have a certain tolerance for greed. I expect my business partners to be self-interested - but smarty so."

However he misjudged Benny and even admits it.

Mr. House: "Obviously, I miscalculated his drive for supremacy."

In the Yes Man ending we learn.

Yes Man: "I found some code snippets in one of Mr. House's databanks that will let me, um, reprogram my personality! To be a little more assertive, basically!"

Meaning while small Mr. House has programming to allow characters like Victor and Jane free will. He WON'T use it though because he wants the specific services and relationships they provide him.

HE'S A WEIRDO CONTROL FREAK WHO ACTS LIKE HE'S ABOVE HUMAN EMOTIONS BUT HE'S NOT AND I LOVE IT!!!!

In the ending with high good karma it even says: "Mr. house afforded him/her every luxury at his disposal in the Lucky 38, out of gratitude - and a quiet sense of pride for his choice in lieutenants."

Of course because of his ego (look at the obituary that appears when he dies) but GRATITUDE. Spoiling Courier Six with all the luxuries he can provide doesn't sound like a basic employee and employer relationship he likes to act like what they have is.

Mr. House: "In any case... this is an employer - employee relationship. I've given you an assignment, and the directions are clear."

If you want to take the G.E.C.K script notes into consideration they even says:

Mr. House: ''You know, I've had thousands of employees in my time. Few met my expectations, fewer still surpassed them.'' {You know, I never had much time for a family - if I did, you'd be the daughter/son I wish I'd had. Benny was almost like a son to me, but well...}

Courier Six being loyal to Mr. House means so much more to him then he'd ever want to admit. EVEN AT THE END OF THE GAME WHEN THE PLAYER HAS FINISHED THEIR WORK AT THE SECOND BATTLE OF HOOVER DAM HE AUTOMATICALLY GETS EXCITED DISCUSSING THEIR NEXT PLANS!!!!!

#Courier Six doing and being exactly what he wanted them to be allows Mr. House to feel comfortable with them. #I wanna ramble about this emotionally stunted 261 year old man HE'S SUCKS SO MUCH I LOVE IT *EXPLODES*!!!!! #Please correct me I'm wrong about anything or just talk about him with me akjdlfhnov; s #Anytime I make a long analysis post about a character I get nervous that I missed a detail that would contradict everything I wrote. #Fallout New Vegas #Mr. House #MadisonPlaysFalloutNewVegas #Long Text #MadisonHouse

[notaninterest]

Carnal *1* (A Hisoka x Reader)

[A/N]: Hello! My username says notaninterest, but feel free to call me Cece.

I'm going to be making this into a story! So I do hope you stick around for the other parts to come. This is also posted on my Wattpad if you're interested. I don't know how many chapters this is going to be but it shouldn't be too long. We'll see :)

I update weekly to biweekly depending on how my life pans out. I will let you know when you should expect the next chapter.

I think I made some mistakes with my writing about Nen so I hope that's okay. I'm not going to be completely accurate in my writing. I hope you understand.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

warnings: heavy sexual themes, smut, Hisoka being fucking hawt

The smell is the same as any other strip club. These grimy places usually never interested him, but tonight is different. It is not the same as the others. He urges for something, something not related to his bloodlust. Yes...He requires a woman. And places like these were full of them. He smiles to himself whilst taking a sip of his alcohol. Nevermind the crowd of inebriated men and some women. His yellow eyes are trained on the dancers, three different ones each accompanying their own respective poles. One of them is a brunette with an aline bob, her hands above her head wrapped around the pole and her legs crossed over the pole with her back facing towards it. She held a look of lust while she arched her back, exposing her full bare breasts further to the crowd as she spun down the pole slowly. While she played the part, her aura certainly didn't feel the part. Hisoka could sense the underlying hatred and disgust this girl has for her job and while she is good at it, she clearly doesn't enjoy it. 'Too boring. Easily manipulated. Not enough fun.' He decides, switching his gaze over to the second girl. This one has long, blue hair reaching to her waist. She confidently swirls upside on the pole, grinding against it upside down. As she reaches down lower, she does the splits midair, manipulating her lower body to face the crowd of horny alcoholics, giving them a peek as to what's beneath the lingerie. A man in the mass of bodies spits out his beer in surprise, quickly throwing money at the dancer. Hisoka rolls his eyes. It's clear as day that she's just a run of the mill slut, perfect for this specific area of expertise. She's clearly in it for it all. Sex, money, and exhibitionism. She doesn't care who watches her or who touches her. She enjoys it all the same. While sensitivity to touch was always a plus, he prefers at least some resistance to his advances. He likes 'em feisty.

The third dancer however...bingo. Her [h/c] hair is what first draws him to her significantly more than the others. The second? Well, he can't sense her aura. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he can't feel it at all. She must be using Zetsu to conceal herself from any Nen users. Little does she know that any other other highly experienced Nen users like himself can easily spot through her deception from just looking at her. Another smile upturns his lips. She will certainly entertain him for the night. He continues to watch her, noting the way her [e/c] eyes sparkle with excitement, nervousness, and some other emotions he can't place. This placates his curiosity more. "Oi, bartender." He calls one of the employees, who walks over while cleaning a glass. "What's the name of that third dancer, the one right over there?" Hisoka asks, pointing over to the mysterious woman. "Well that'd be [Y/N], the most graceful of them all." The bartender gushes, clearly having it out for the lady. "Hmm...'most graceful' you say..." He'd be the test of that one. He continues to stalk you out from the bar, sipping on his alcohol slowly. He needn't be drunk for this experience. No...He's going to enjoy this one to satisfy his more carnal cravings for a longer time. He watches you closely. You were wearing very little, definitely giving the appearance of confidence in your body. That scores high in the point system in Hisoka's head. You were currently positioned so the front of your body faced the pole, your backside facing the crowd. You bent over at the waist, grabbing the pole in front of you and bending to a 90-degree angle. Your toned ass is on clear view to the people in front of you and you slowly rotate your hips, imitating a sexual act in midair. Or, at least trying to. ‘Mmm...she's perfect.’ Hisoka dreams of the acts he'll perform on you, becoming more excited by the second. He continues to watch you, head in his left hand, his drink in the other. As soon as you finish undulating your hips, you slide up against the pole, grinding your pussy against the cold metal. A gasp leaves your lips, one that should be inaudible considering the noise and the atmosphere, but it's a noise Hisoka can hear as clear as day. It's clear that from the pitch in this noise and the way you move your body that you're not experienced in this area, which leaves him to wonder why you chose it. Maybe for the money? No...he doubted that. You didn't lurch your body around the pole as deliberately as the first dancer. There was a secret to your work that he doesn't know of. It becomes painfully more clear that you aren't experienced in any pole work at all, judging by how clumsily you slither up the pole. Your eyes struggle to convey the desire to practically fuck the pole and instead are glazed over in what seems to be a sort of nervousness. To any other everyday individual, you'd look like a professional, maybe graceful as others say. Yet, to Hisoka, he can see right through your dancing façade. Why are you doing this...he must sate his ever-growing curiosity.

As the number finishes and the dancers walk offstage, Hisoka approaches the man responsible for handing out lap dances and the like, going to put his request in nice and early. "Eh?! You request a room for the rest of the night?! S-Sir I'm afraid-" Hisoka holds up a heavy, full bag. "This here is enough jenny to last you a lifetime and even your grandkids if you spend it wisely." He smiles as he hands the packed bag over, watching as the man's eyes light up in greed. He needs this money. And Hisoka can tell. "I'm sure we can make something work. This man here will guide you to your room." The greedy man shoos over a hefty bulk of a guy, who promptly tells Hisoka to follow him. Hisoka smirks, dropping the bag of money on the slimy man's desk. "Very well. Thank you." He thanks, following the brawny dude to his assigned room.

The large man guides the magician to the room furthest down the long hallway. As Hisoka opens it, he notices it to be some sort of suite. He chuckles to himself. The other rooms were smaller. Money sure did get you good things. The strong guard before him tells him that the dancer he requested will be with him shortly before leaving, giving Hisoka some time to himself before you arrived. He investigates the big room for the time being, meticulously looking over things. There was the obvious king-sized bed, massive enough for two bodies. There's a nightstand full of condoms and lube. It has a lamp with a red shade on top of it, which Hisoka turns on. The room fills with an additional red light, making him smile. Yes...mood lighting. He's looking through the dresser across the bed when the door swings open, an angry-looking woman greeting him. He smiles at her, arms crossed behind his back. "Hello, [Y/N]-" "I don't allow any clients to touch me, much less have me for 12 hours straight!" You interrupt as you fume, glaring at the magician before you. "Must be your lucky night then." Hisoka chuckles, running his entrancing eyes over your body. Your minimal clothing was enticing to say the least, easily getting him worked up. But the air of mystery swarming around you fuels his horniness more. He needs to find out what exactly you are up to. The door suddenly closes firmly behind you, clicking locked behind the woman. You panic, trying to open the locked door handle. As predicted, it doesn't budge. "I think what you mean by not allowing anyone to touch you, you also mean you haven't even touched yourself?" Hisoka asks, beginning to walk over to you with his hands still behind his back. Your aura suddenly springs to life, surrounding your body in an instant. Hisoka smirks, continuing his approach. "St-Stand back, clown! I will not hesitate to send you flying!" You stamper, projecting your Nen in an offensive manner. "Hm..." Hisoka ponders, stopping inches away from you.

You're strong, but not nearly as strong as he is. He wonders how long you've been practicing. Must've been a few years now. You place yourself in a defensive stance, one arm angled up at a 90-degree angle and the other positioned a little below that one in the same stance, legs spread apart with one a little behind the other. Ah, yes. Every stereotypical position most fighters took when looking to fight. It looks silly with what you're wearing. And the look on your face was so hilariously serious. That's why Hisoka couldn't stop himself from laughing. He seriously tried to contain it, but the silliness of your posture combined with your facial expression absolutely cracked him up. This reaction serves to royally piss off the woman in front of him. "What?! What's so funny?!" You snap at him, clenching your hands into fists. He laughs himself to literal tears, holding his stomach with one clawed hand. "It's just...Your Nen compares next to nothing against mine, but your effort is quite adorable." The Transmuter purrs, wiping his cheek and taking a step closer to you. You look worried, taking a step away from the man. He responds by simply taking a step closer. "Wh-What do you want from me, f-freak?" You stutter nervously, finding yourself being backed into a corner. "Why, you of course." The magician licks his lips to emphasize his statement. A blush crosses your [s/c] cheeks, your eyes gleaming with fear. The look is so utterly delicious to him.

He chuckles, continuing to walk towards you. You back up until your back is literally against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go expect towards the creepy man. You breathe shakily, making your fear of him clear. "Well, let's get started...[Y/N]." Hisoka smiles, placing his hand next to your head and leaning down to touch noses with you. It's clear his height intimidates you. You swallow and swing, missing your Nen-powered punch by a longshot. He dodges, letting the attack wisp by his right star-drawn cheek. Hisoka giggles at your attempt, grabbing your outstretched hand with his free one and pinning it against the wall you were up against. You look totally helpless, fuelling his desire more. "Oh-ho-ho, trying to hit me are you now? Your attempt turns me on." He teases, fully smiling at your clear look of panic. His eyes narrow as your Nen powers up, sensing that you're up to something. He uses Gyo, centering his Ren in his eyes and watching your aura, watching as it enhances to your hidden fist behind you and to your left leg. So you're an Enhancer, hm? You were going to try to bait him with a fake punch before actually hitting him with your left leg? Okay. He feigns as if he doesn't suspect anything, allowing you to throw your fist at him before pulling back, jumping up and predictably swinging your leg at the left side of his teardrop-stained cheek. He allows the attack to land on him, his head snapping to the side with a frightening speed. Your eyes light up victoriously, but they soon dim to horror as he turns his scuffed up face back to look down at you with a smug smirk. "Any normal person would have flown away with that attack, so I must say I'm impressed. Yet, I'm not a normal man if you can't already tell. Your attacks will provide you with no protection if I haven't already predicted this. It's cute that you think you have an evenly-scored battleground with me." Hisoka chuckles, pinning you against the wall with both of your hands restrained by his at this point.

Your expressive eyes give away your anxiety of the situation, but your face remains hard with determination. The look reminds him of a certain 12-year old boy. This stirs his lust for you up further. He licks at his pale lips seductively, yellow eyes glowing into your own [e/c] ones. Your cold glare sends a spike of pleasure right to his hardened dick. He smiles wider if possible. It's becoming increasingly clear that you have no chance against him and he finds this power over you intoxicating, delicious even. "I have a question for you, [Y/N]. Sate my curiosity if you will." The clown husks, putting his mouth right next to your right ear. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of your face and you gulp nervously. "Shoot." Your icy voice fills his ears, and he gives a simple, "Hmm." at your compliance. You were going to be so much fun to break. He really chose the right contender to satisfy his needs. He snickers into your ear, his hot breath hitting the shell of it. It causes you to barely shiver. It was almost imperceptible, but not to perceptive Hisoka. He grins with this discovery, deciding not to voice it. You would soon find your body betraying you. "Pray tell what you're doing in a place like this? We both know you're not qualified for sex work, so what really brings you here, [Y/N]?" Hisoka's flirtatious voice whispers against your flesh. You noticeably tense up at the question, your hands forming into fists. Your wrists flex in his grasp. He seems to have hit a sore spot. You don't respond immediately. This moves Hisoka to press his body up against yours. Your almost completely exposed chest rubs up against his completely covered one and you gasp at his movements, clearly not expecting them. "Mmm your body feels delightful up against me dear~ Now answer the question." He lustfully whispers in your ear. You seem frozen in place, eyes wide with surprise. He decides he quite likes that expression, ingraining it into his memory. You quickly catch yourself, squirming against his body. "Let m-me go!" You stutter. Your futile attempts only rub him in all the right ways and he moans deeply, the noise hitting your right ear loudly. You gasp, your cheeks reddening with...desire? You freeze up again. He chuckles. "You feel amazing rubbing up against me like that~ Now...are you going to answer or am I going to force it out of you?~" He mumbles sensually, rubbing his lips against the flesh of your ear. You lick your lips to moisten them, your breathing correcting itself quickly.

"I'm here to collect a bounty." You simply state, watching his pale face out of the corner of your right eye. He laughs. "Liar." He growls into your ear, his hands tightening on your wrists before he throws you behind him. He listens as your delectable body bounces on the massive mattress before he turns around, predatory eyes focusing on your scared ones as you sit up on the bed. "That's the truth-" "Incorrect. I'm simply calling you out on your bullshit." Hisoka grins, beginning to approach the bed with obvious sexual intentions. You back away to the headboard of the bed, your back pressing against the splintering wood. He crawls onto the king-sized cot, stopping as soon as he looms on top of you. The look in his eyes is hungry as he looks down your body once again. He loves the position you're in. Utterly helpless. He places his hands beneath your arms, leaning down so that he's touching noses with you again. "Answer the question. Truthfully this time." He adds, smiling deviously in your flustered face. Your mouth remains shut. That's fine. It's well past time for him to immerse himself in your beautiful body. He reaches underneath you, carefully manipulating his clawed hand to the string of your toppiece. He unties it, the flimsy material of the lingerie falling away from your breasts almost instantly. You puff out a noise of embarrassment, your hands quickly coming to aid in hiding your tits from him. The magician quickly evades this method however, encircling both your wrists in his hands again and pinning them next to your head. He takes a long look at your perfect bust, practically drooling at the sight of them. He truly scored with this catch. He smiles, making eye contact with you again. He does not hide his lust from you this time. "Fine.~ I suppose I'll have to try a different method to coax an answer out of you." He punctuates this by licking his lips, moving his face over your bosom. Your eyes watch, curious as to what he'll do. You look nervous and Hisoka couldn't hold back his smirk. The nervousness only virgins hold. This'll be one hell of a lay. He almost couldn't contain his excitement.

He sticks out his tongue, running it over your left nipple before popping it into his mouth. He gives an experimental suck and watches as your body jolts beneath him. A noise akin to pleasure leaves your throat and you look embarrassed at this, closing your eyes. His smile widens and he continues to suck on your nipple, running his tongue over it at the same time. He releases your right hand when he's sure you won't move, using his free hand to massage your other boob. He kneads the flesh in his palm, squeezing the whole thing harshly. Your back arches off the bed and a groan leaves your lips, your hands squeezing as you squirm beneath him. Beautiful. The way you respond to him. You must be sensitive. He watches your face with his observate eyes, watching as your face relaxes into a sort of pleasured expression. Perfect. He pops your breast out of his mouth, replacing it with his other hand. He continues his ministrations for a few quiet moments, listening as you release more pleased noises. This heats up his body more and as a result, his own face flushes up with his desire. "So [Y/N].~ You ready to spill the beans?" Hisoka asks, squeezing both of your tits rather roughly. You pant, opening your defiant eyes to glare at him. "Never." You huff, shivering beneath him. He chuckles. "Shame.~" He continues to fondle you, this time kissing and dragging his tongue against your stomach. Your muscles tense and untense and a full fledged moan dares to leave your mouth. Sensitive you are indeed. This causes Hisoka himself to shiver, your moan music to his ears. He drags his tongue up your stomach, in between the valley of your boobs and up to your neck, where he centers his attack. He laves his tongue in the area, kissing it too. Your moans double in volume and he smiles to himself. "Dare to share, [Y/N]~?" He huskily whispers, licking up to your earlobe and nibbling it. “Ahn- N-No." You pant, trying to remain as stoic as before. You were for sure a challenge...and Hisoka loves challenges. Chuckling, he bites at the skin of your neck, enjoying your flinch in response. "Fine. Be that way." He responds, returning his attention to your tits. He massages the flesh in his clawed hands, tweaking the nipples at the same time. He pulls them, making your back arch to follow them. He leans down to your face, running his nose against your cheek before kissing it. He moves his face towards your left ear, breathing hotly against it. You freeze up before shivering in response. "Perhaps I'll have to take more...drastic measures." He whispers into your ear, his right hand releasing its grip on your left boob and hovering over the side of your hip where a tie holds up the bottom piece of your sexy outfit.

He pulls at the measly string, untying it from your hip. It loosens the fabric, yet the triangular material protecting your modesty continues to cover it. This is fine. He unties the other string, the fabric effectively falling slack against your skin. Hisoka releases all touches, focusing on your lower body now. You move to cover your most sensitive bits, but Hisoka simply smacks your hands away with force, moving back to take the covering away from you. As you yelp and rub your hands, he uses his to grab the thong, taking it away from your body. He stares at your pussy in all its glory, licking his lips. "Say...~ all this interrogating has got me famished. You don't mind if I have a little snack, right?~" His seductive voice proclaims, spreading open your thighs and settling himself in between them. Your nervous eyes alight his own dilated ones and he continues his prowl. He inhales your scent deeply, moaning. Yes, you smell absolutely scrumptious! "I will not be asking you questions from here on out. I will be demanding them. So, [Y/N]. Tell me why you're actually here." He almost snarls, his claws digging into the skin of your hips, drawing a small amount of blood. You wince, but remain strong. "No." You respond icily, acting as if you weren't intimidated. It's almost cute, but he can smell your fear. You reek of it. He chuckles. "Alright.~" He immediately dives into your pussy, licking a stripe up to your clit. You gasp, an ungodly pornographic moan leaving your throat. Hisoka groans in response to your taste, licking up what is all of you. His practiced tongue flicks against your clit and your body twists around, full-fledged, unembarrassed moans leaving your mouth as his sucks on your sensitive sex. His thumbs spread your lower lips open and he flattens his tongue, giving another harsh lick all the way up. He sucks on your hole and you keen, arching your back all the way up. "W-wait -AH- I think I'm going to cum!" You yell out those magic words, your hands grabbing at his hair. That was fast. This fuels his goal further and he eats at you with much more fervor. He slurps your pussy, eating up all you have to offer. Your moans grow more high-pitched and before the both of you know it, you're cumming into Hisoka's mouth. He sucks up all the cum you have to offer, unabashedly enjoying all of it. By the end of it, you're a panting and sweating mess, while Hisoka remains fresh. "Wonderful.~" He murmurs dirtily against you, lapping at your pussy again. You flinch, panting up a storm. You release your grip on his hair, moving your hands to wipe sweat off of your forehead. "W-Wait. I'm too sensit- OH!" You exclaim as he sucks on your clit, watching your face closely this time. Your cheeks are the reddest he's ever seen anyone's become and your eyes are dilated with desire, something he secretly hurrahs in his head. You look amazing. He watches your mouth open in a frenzied moan and shivers, continuing his attack on your pussy. As he continues, he watches you unravel before him yet again. The sight is damning to say the least. You were a gorgeous sight to gaze at and he almost couldn't let you cum a second time, getting caught up in his own desire. He begins to rub himself against the bed to ease himself, moaning into your clit. The vibrations make your toes curl and you throw your head back in a scream. He watches your face as you come undone beneath him yet again, marvelling at your orgasmic expression. That's a face he's certainly going to remember forever.

You're different from his other whores, seeing how you aren't an experienced one. Also seeing as he didn't perform these acts on his other playthings. You're...special. To him for now at least. Surely you wouldn't mean anything once he's finished with you, right? He creeps up your body once your grip on his pink hair loosens, throwing off his shirt and undergarments, exposing his ripped physique to you. Your eyes hungrily trail down the eight-pack, coming into contact with the tent in his loose pants. "I will try this one last time. Final chance. Tell me what your purpose is being here, now." His authoritative tone falls on horny ears. You shake your head, expression firm. He smiles. "Very well..." He strips off the rest of his clothing. Your eyes are trained on his hard dick, a look of panic behind them. He smiles and positions himself at your entrance, wrapping his hands on your soft hips. You seem to second guess yourself. "W-Wait--" "Too late, [Y/N]. You can't stop me from taking you now." He huskily interrupts, beginning to push into your tight pussy. You yowl, pushing your hands against his muscled abdomen. His grips tightens on your hips and despite your efforts, his cock continues to push inside of you, rendering you helpless beneath him. You gasp, shakily exhaling. Your weak arms eventually give up, falling to the sides of you in defeat. He enjoys your submission, fueling his lust for you. He pushes himself in all the way with a hard thrust, making you cry out in pain as your virginity is given to him. He sits there for a minute, relishing in his victory and at the tightness of your walls around him.

He shudders, his whole body rocking with it. It was painfully noticeable. It feels amazing to be inside of you. That's a fact he couldn't hide. "Oh [Y/N].~ You...ngh...feel marvelous.~" Hisoka moans heavily, his grip on your hips growing tighter to the point of being painful. You quietly groan beneath him, arching your back as he begins to move. He moves out and in slowly, testing the waters. You squeak, grabbling your death grip on the sheets on the bed, bunching the material up in your fists. What a sexy display. It'd be better if it was on him instead. He encourages you to grab his back by lowering his chest to touch yours, putting his face next to yours. He effectively covers your body with his own. You get the gist of what he's trying to do, raking your nails against his back as you grab at it. He shudders at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin and in response, thrusts into your tight pussy roughly. You yelp at the new sensation, throwing your head back as the pleasure surges through you. Hisoka treasures your expression of newfound enjoyment, really relishing in being the cause of it. He nips at your ear, groaning deeply when it causes your inner walls to convulse around him more. He'll use that knowledge at a later time. For now, he hotly exhales against your flesh, making you shiver against him. He sets out a slow and punishing rhythm, slowly pulling out before forcefully shoving himself back in. You cry out each time his hips meet yours, tears forming at the edge of your eyes from the intensity of his fucking. Hisoka simply smiles, deciding to speed things up a bit. He quickens his pace, smacking against your hips more frequently now. "How's it feel, [Y/N]? Tell me - mm - how my cock feels inside of you." He grunts, sitting up to gauge your reaction. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his dirty talk and Hisoka stops, almost cumming from the expression alone. He pants, pausing for only a moment. He awaits your response while he recovers, watching as your eyes return, your dilated [e/c] eyes looking into his lustful yellow ones. You attempt to roll your hips back onto him, but you fail horribly. You did, however, manage to sink down onto the rest of him, a moan leaving your mouth from feeling so full. Hisoka giggles. "So greedy for my dick~ Tell me how it feels, [Y/N].~" He puts your leg over his shoulder, opening you up more to him. He doesn't move. Not until you choose to respond, that is.

You whine at the lack of friction, glaring up at him with that desireful expression you hold. He smiles. You relent, closing your eyes. "Y-Your cock feels amazing, Hisoka." You admit, gasping and practically screaming as he continues his fucking you from the new position he put you in. Your eyes once again roll to the back of your head from the sheer force that he's pumping into you. You're a sweaty mess while Hisoka remains good as new, the workout hardly giving him any strain. You let out a cry as one of his thumbs connects with your clit, massaging it in time with his thrusts. Hisoka moans as you tighten around him and he continues to push into you, harsher now. Your vocality rings through his ears, heating up his body more if possible. His flushed face grows darker still and he singles in on his primary focus: making you cum again. He breathes heavily, thrusting into you at a now impossibly fast pace. Your moans feed into screams, your eyes closed from the intensity of his fucking you. He continues to finger your clit, focusing on your orgasm. He wasn't even close to his, but he decides that your release is more of a spectacle than his own. He zeroes in on it, listening as your moans reach a higher octave. Then, without warning, you arch your back for the last time, crying out as you reach your peak. Your walls milk him, but he refuses to cum, just watching your face as your orgasm rips through you for the third time. He'd definitely remember that face until he's cut from this world. He pulls out of you, settling on massaging your clit a little longer as you ride out the waves of euphoria. You twitch and moan breathlessly, gasping for air from the come down. Hisoka just watches, enjoying your facial expressions. You were certainly something. He stops touching you when you come down completely, breathing harshly. Your flustered eyes open, looking at his still lust-filled ones.

"I...," You start. Hisoka listens, tilting his head in curiosity. "I was assigned here to find you, Hisoka." You pant, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Your eyes are encircled in that hard set determination yet again as you tell him this. "My orders are to dispose of you." You admit, hardening your gaze. Hisoka smiles...and it's not a nice one. "Is that so?" He chuckles, flipping you onto your stomach.

"Tell me more as you sing for me...[Y/N].~ We've still got ten hours left for you to tell me all."

_______

Word count: 5,000+

Next chapter should arrive sometime today on Saturday, May 1st. I’m so sorry for the delay ;-;

#fanfic #hisoka x reader #hisoka smut #hisoka x reader smut #hunter x hunter smut

[tiktaalic]

Why exactly do you see Dean as gay rather than bi? Absolutely feel free to completely ignore this ask if you don't want to go into it - it's just I've heard that interpretation a few times here on Tumblr and I'd genuinely be really interested to hear your thoughts behind it, and how you relate it to the way Dean canonically acts on the show

the pithy answer is projection! the unpithy answer is that out of 320 episodes over the span of 15 years, there is one (1) where his attraction comes off as genuine to me, and it took place fifteen years ago (cassie). i’m a lesbian, and when i was younger i had really genuine and meaningful friendships with men that i thought meant i was in love with them. they were very dear friends to me and i cared deeply about them, and they continue to be dear to me and people i care deeply about now that my head’s on straighter. so that’s that point. 

this is. going to be a long post so this is the preemptive warning to everyone who can’t read tumblr paragraphs to zip scroll.

lisa straight up reads as a lavender marriage to me. the focus for both lisa AND dean is him stepping in to be a father figure. their conversations about how much they care about each other center around how good he is with ben/how much he loves ben. there’s like, nothing where they’re smiling at each other and actually enjoying each other’s company. she’s a two night stand he’s seen 4 times in the last decade. she is dean putting on his brave face and keeping his promise. lisa’s post dean boyfriend matt is in one episode for about 3 minutes purely so he can die, but this is the scene.

so like. lisa is CAPABLE of interacting with a man she’s dating in a way that looks like they’re dating, versus. this.

so that’s that point. we’re at season six and we’ve already gone through every long term relationship with a woman dean’s been in. but let’s get really technical! let’s go through bad boys and after school special and amara to boot. 

in bad boys, robin is dean’s first real crush when he’s fifteen or so. first crush being when you’re 15 rather than in elementary or middle school? gay behavior (joke). let those among us who have not had a straight crush as a teen because they were the first person to be nice to us throw the first stone! and that’s what it boils down to for me. it’s the first time dean’s had ANY stability, and he relishes it. it would not surprise me if she’s his first real friend. she’s definitely his first real NORMAL friend. she asks him what HE likes, what HE wants to do with his life. and that’s totally new for dean! to have choices and to have his wants given consideration instead of just having expectation after expectation loaded onto him.

it does not surprise me that dean, who’s been taking a masterclass in repression and masculinity since the tender age of four, dates robin. it would not surprise me if he dated robin and was gay. of course he’s going to throw himself 100% into a relationship with a girl when he knows he’s at an age where boys are supposed to be skirt chasers, when he meets a girl and she’s NICE to him and KNOWS him like literally no one else does. all of this accompanied by the “i am a boy and have positive feelings for someone who’s a girl this MUST be romance this MUST be a crush” like. this is going to get into overshare territory for a moment i apologize but As A Lesbian when i was 15/16 i actively had crushes on girls and rational-ed them away as Girl Best Friends :) while telling everyone that the feelings i had for my boy best friends were crushes aksdkfkndf. repressed gay people are stupid and dean is MUCH more repressed than me aged 16. so. robin box ticked. 

after school special: jail for dabb jail for dabb for a thousand years i know. trust me i know. BUT. 17 year old dean who’s fully pulled on the leather jacket and womanizer persona, who doesn’t talk to anyone in his class and just hangs out in janitor closets making out with a girl who thinks his persona is hot. and when she tries to get close to him, to form an emotional connection, he panics and self sabotages. which. yes. peak straight man behavior. i’m not arguing that this little characterization bit is the pillar upon which gay dean rests, i’m saying if you’re inclined, you can nudge it into gay kid going “oh no this is too much responsibility i gotta get out of this” behavior. and i’m inclined!

amara: the amara stuff is so. hdnfdkf. it’s this primordial connection or whatever stronger than dean and amara both and yet dean’s still able to buck it a few times for [drumroll........] cas! + i don’t have any of the posts on hand but i DO agree with the whole vibe of. “i would fuck the embodiment of my destruction and horrors and failings because my self loathing is THAT strong”. also: gay af for the being of destruction with an immutable pull on you and towards you to say i will give you your greatest desire and then give you your mommy back and dip.

and then there’s the various one night stand stuff. i don’t have the comprehensive list on hand, but off the top of my head these are times when dean has sex scenes that are given huge focus:

when he comes back from hell and everyone’s gently asking if he’s fine and he’s like could a guy who wasn’t fine do THIS [tries to sleep with a bartender and or angel]. when bobby dies and dean’s hardcore mourning and hardcore drinking to the point where i think his drinking is acknowledged for one of a true handful of times in the series. just checked the transcript for that one. the morning after:

DEAN: Ugh.

SAM: You look like crap.

DEAN: Yeah, well, I feel worse than I look. I do recommend the Cobalt Room, by the way. Awesome night. Although I think I'm getting too old for this.

which. again. normal straight man commitmentphobe hitting his 30s and going hmmm.... perhaps real connections would be nice? but that doesn’t contradict gay dean at all, it slots in. also this is season 7. season 7 and he’s too old for this. top of my head i can think of two more similar instances: s11 baby when he groans and goes “mistakes were made”, s13 advanced thanatology when cas is dead and he’s FULL ON grieving so hard that sam takes him to a strip club. and again. he over does it. again he throws himself too hard to the coping vices and when he wakes up he’s tired and sore and has a headache. the other time he gets laid is endverse, which uh. is basically dean in 24/7 mourn drink sleep with someone mode. there are like... a handful of times he has sex For Fun, enough to count on one hand. the rest are all real easy to slap the label PERFORMANCE or COPING WITH MOURNING on.

obviously all of these points go either way - you could absolutely interpret them as legit attraction to women. you can interpret them as legit attraction to women while these instances are still coping/performance. but for me personally they all end up on the gay column instead of the bi column. um. end manifesto i think.

#long post #spnwatch #anonymous #ask #dean

[junosartsthetic]

Nostalgia.

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Pairing: ModernAu!Erwin Smith x female!reader

Word Count: 1876

Warning(s): Mentions of virginity loss, mild language

(Taken from my Quotev)

--

Photos scattered across the wood floor. The fan spun lazily in the spring air. Through the window, a breeze fluttered in. A cardboard box sat in the center of the photo collection, on it written ‘ERWIN’ in large scrawl. 

Hands delicately flipped through the photos, brushing at the figures within them. You remembered these moments fondly. 

A certain camera strip caught your eye, and you grasped at it from its location in the corner of the box. 

The edges were worn. ‘XOXO’ was written at the bottom of the four images.

You glanced at the large stone building in front of you, unsurprised at his choice of a first-date location. Though he was barely 18, Erwin acted so mature and refined. The local history museum fit his character perfectly. 

You glanced about, searching for the tall blond. Spotting the familiar gelled hair, you strolled over to where he was reading a paper on a stone bench. 

He looked up and his face glowed a faint red at the sight of you.

You wore a yellow sun dress with a jean jacket, though the weather was warm. The highlighter dusted on your cheeks shone in the midday sun, and he took a breath. 

“You ready to go in?” you prompted, giggling at his frozen posture. 

He regained movement, standing up and holding out an arm for you to take. “I’ve been here a lot, so I can give you a tour. Just let me know if it gets boring.”

You nudged him with your shoulder. “Oh, nothing you could say would bore me, Erwin. You’re too fascinating of a person.”

He cleared his throat, cheeks glistening pink. Rather than responding, he gave a swift nod, smiling gently. “Shall we, then?”

You winked. “Lead the way.”

He guided you inside, stopping at every exhibit to describe it to you. Each sentence enraptured you. The way he spoke so passionately, so confidently, like he was on a podium delivering a battle plan and not with you discussing an old plane engine. 

His eyes lit up when he talked. His hair became breeze-blown by the air conditioning. 

A bashful smile graced your lips the longer you two wandered. You held onto his arm like you’d known him forever, as though you two were soulmates.

When you spotted a photo booth near the gift shop, you knew you had to capture this moment. You had a feeling this first date was going places, and you knew you had to look back on it when it did. 

For the first photo, you two smiled awkwardly, sitting on opposite edges of the photo booth. By the third, you two had migrated and were laughing together, you grabbing onto his arm.

When the notification flashed for the fourth one, you glanced to your side, noticing his gleeful expression. His eyes were shut, his mouth open in a laugh at something you’d said. 

Quickly, you placed a light kiss on his cheek and the camera flashed.

His cheeks were red and his eyes were halfway open, shock just beginning to appear on his face. You were turned to the side and the lip gloss you wore could be seen glistening on his cheek as you started to pull away. 

You let out a lighthearted sigh. You remember how bashful the two of you got afterwards.

You set the picture aside, glancing back into the box. 

An old polaroid caught your eye, and you pulled it out, examining it. It was a rather blurry and too bright picture of a homemade cake. A giant red ‘X’ ran across the word ‘virgin’ and behind the cake sat the pair of you. Your arms were across your face in embarrassment and Erwin was in the middle of laughing, a bright red blush on his cheeks as he pointed to Hanji, who had just set the cake down on the table. 

“What are you all even doing here?” you asked, arms still firmly covering your face. You were wrapped in only a robe, your hair a wild mess. Erwin only had his boxers on.

One moment, you two were asleep in his bed, exhausted from….. Not important. The next moment, arms were pulling you out of bed as Hanji shoved a cake in front of your faces.

“Congratulations, you nerds!” she said, a large grin on her face. Behind her lurked your other friends, all mildly amused. “You’re no longer virgins! How does it feel losing your virginity in your twenties? Is it embarrassing? On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

As Hanji continued to ramble, Mike grabbed each of your arms and sat you two at the kitchen table, the cake now in front of you. 

The cameraman was Levi, his usually stoic expression replaced with a slight smirk. Your arms raced to cover your face as Erwin laughed.

The camera flashed. 

You laughed at the memory.

Returning to your reminiscing, you gazed into the box once more. This time, a rectangular photo drew your attention. You reached out, grasping it gently.

Your eyes began to swell with tears as you looked at the photo.

You had your arms around Erwin’s neck, you two locked in a kiss. A bus waited behind the two of you. Erwin donned an Army uniform, a bag at his feet. 

You sniffled as you grabbed onto Erwin’s arm, the bus pulling up. You knew his dream was to become a great military leader, but you didn’t want him to leave. 

You knew his friends were accompanying him, but you didn’t care. 

When the bus finally came to a stop, you looked into Erwin’s eyes. He gave you a soft smile as though to say ‘everything will be okay.’

You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him one last time before he left for an entire year.

The camera flashed. 

Wiping a stray tear from your face, you set the photo aside, continuing to rummage. 

The photo which gave you pause was a Polaroid. There was a hospital bed and two figures. The first lay in bed while the other hugged them.

As soon as you pulled into the hospital, you ran out, racing towards the entrance. A familiar face gave you pause. 

At seeing Levi, you sprinted towards him, pulling him in for a hug.

He gave a light squeeze back before gesturing for you to follow. 

Upon entering the desired room, you spotted him. Erwin was currently asleep, his normally pristine form now messy, his hair swept about. Bruises littered his body. You spotted scars that weren’t there before.

Most heart wrenching of all was one of his arms. Where it once was, a bandaged stump remained. 

“A grenade,” Levi said. “I tried to—”

You looked behind you, giving him a sad smile. “Levi, this is not your fault.”

You stepped slowly towards the bed, moving to his good side. 

Reaching a hand out, you cupped his face, tears splashing onto the hospital bed as you sobbed. “Sweetheart,” you prompted, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Can you hear me? You were hurt badly, baby. I’m worried about you. Can you open your eyes so I know… you’re okay?”

Slowly, two piercing blue eyes fluttered open, and you let out a cry of relief, clutching at his hospital gown. 

A large calloused hand rested on your back, rubbing soothing circles. “It’s okay, darling. I’m here. I’m okay.”

Erwin glanced towards Levi, who held a camera. Levi had an almost unnoticeable smile on his lips. 

The camera flashed.

You blinked away your tears, moving to the next photograph which interested you.

A vibrant and large photo was pulled from the box. A man and woman were kissing. People along the edges of the photo cheered.

You tried your best to keep your eyes tear free as Erwin recited his vows. He’d written them on a piece of bright pink paper. He said it represented how he felt around you. 

Hanji, who managed to snag a license just to officiate your wedding, stood between the two of you.

After Erwin finished, Hanji spoke up. “Without further ado, you may kiss the bride.”

With that, Erwin swooped you towards him, still dipping you excellently despite his missing appendage, and kissed you so hard you had to wrap your arms around his neck to keep your legs from giving out from under you.

The cheers of your friends echoed in your ears. A vintage love song played over the speakers. The breeze lilted through the outside venue, cherry blossoms scattering about. 

The camera flashed. 

You let out a dreamy sigh. That was only two years ago and now you two were living in a nice suburban house together. 

The grandfather clock in your living room sounded.

You snapped out of your daydreams. You knew he’d be home any minute now, so you quickly gathered up the photos, placing them back in the box before setting it back in the basement. 

You jogged up the stairs, hearing a doorbell ring.

You opened the door to find all of your closest friends and beckoned them inside. 

“So what’s up?” Hanji asked, taking a seat on the blue sofa. “You sounded urgent over the phone. Something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s just… I feel like I need to tell everyone I love at the same time, not just Erwin.”

Levi quirked an eyebrow. “What, you getting a divorce?”

Mike nudged Levi, who shrugged. “Just asking.”

Hanji let out a laugh. “Even if they did, she’d never fall back to you so don’t get your hopes up!”

Levi’s pale face gained a red color at that. “That’s not what I was implying, you shitty-shit.”

Hanji went to respond, but the door opening stopped her. 

Erwin looked shocked at seeing his wife and closest friends gathering in his living room.

“Uhh, darling, what’s going on? Did I miss a holiday?”

You laughed, strolling over to kiss his cheek and take off his coat. “No, just sit down please. Someone get a camera ready.”

Hanji pulled out her phone, as did Mike and Levi. Once all of them found a seat, you cleared your throat, still standing. “Okay, now, Erwin, sweetheart, don’t panic.”

He threw you a concerned look, eyebrows furrowed. “Panic?”

You took a deep breath, intertwining your hands before placing them on your stomach. You gazed about the silent room. “Okay, here goes…” You formed the biggest smile you could. “I’m pregnant!”

Hanji shrieked in excitement. Mike flashed a look of extreme concern. Levi clicked his tongue. Erwin remained silent, a hand running through his hair.

You looked at your husband, eyes searching for any emotion.

He made eye contact with you, and you soon realized he was crying.

“Sweetheart, are you—”

Your words were cut off when he stood up before gently kneeling in front of you. He placed his hand on your stomach, looking up at you. He looked so infatuated. So in love with you. “I’m going to be a father?”

You sniffled, nodding. “Yes. You’re going to be a father.”

He leaned his forehead against your stomach, his hand still resting there. Tears fell down his face. “I’m going to be a father…”

The camera flashed.

#aot #attack on titan #erwin smith #shingeki no kyoujin #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #oneshot #one shot #erwin smith x reader #cute #fluffy #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #x reader #reader #anime x reader #anime #more than 1000 words #1k words #over 1k #romantic #nostalgia #vintage

[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (7)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Sorry for the delay! I either have my shit together in real life or fandom life, but never both at the same time lol. Anyway, I got endless joy from reading all your reactions to last chapter’s clifhanger (sorry not sorry). I didn’t respond to comments because I don’t trust myself not to spoil anything, but just know that I appreciate every single one of your theories. Also, many of you were at least somewhat correct. (Yikes am I becoming predictable?? Gotta fix that.) This chapter ends at a good stopping point, so I’m going to switch gears and write a couple chapters of other fics (which I encourage you to read!!) before coming back to this. But fear not! I have big plans for the future of this fic, and I’ll send you all down the theory rabbit hole soon enough. xoxo

*****

The world narrows until Mac is only aware of two things: his racing heart and the fact that Riley is gone. 

The blood is fresh, but there’s no sign of a struggle—no sign of anything, really. The windows are locked and unbroken, the bedroom door is half-closed the way it always is. Not a single thing is out of place…except for Riley. 

So, where the hell is she? 

His body goes taut as the worst case scenario plays in his mind. Please don’t be gone, Mac silently begs. Please. 

The apartment is quiet. Too quiet. So when the shower turns on with a loud thunk, Mac flinches. Hard. Without thinking, he scrambles out of bed and lunges for the bathroom door. 

As he bursts through the door, Mac’s awareness shifts to three things: Riley is alive, she’s naked, and she’s screaming. 

“Mac!” She hisses, glaring over her shoulder. If looks could kill, he’d be very, very dead by now. At least her back is to him. “What the hell?” 

Mac barely hears her over the roaring in his ears. He scans her naked body, trying and failing to be professional as he scans for injuries. 

His eyes land on the blood smeared between her thighs, then the thin stream rolling down the inside of her knee. As understanding dawns on him, Mac holds out his own blood-covered hand in silent explanation. 

Riley winces. “Sorry about the blood.” 

Mac still feels a little disconnected from his body when he says, “I was afraid you were dead.”

Embarrassment floods Riley’s face. She begs,“Can we please finish this conversation when I’m not naked and bleeding all over the floor?” Mac’s gaze automatically flicks to the drops of blood between her feet, but he doesn’t move. His limbs are still frozen in place, the way they’ve been since he found her. “Get out!” Riley snaps. 

His own embarrassment finally taking hold, Mac stumbles backward, tripping over the door frame on his way out. 

While Riley showers, Mac busies himself by stripping the bed and washing the sheets and blankets. Not just because it needs to be done, but because it’s easier to process emotions when his hands are busy. It feels like he just experienced the entire spectrum of human emotion in the span of three minutes, and now all these untethered feelings are floating around in his head. As he works, Mac examines them one by one. 

He woke up this morning wanting to cuddle with Riley. Not just wanting to, but comfortable enough to act on that desire. 

When his hand landed in the blood, his brain immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. He is deeply afraid of said scenario. 

Then panic set in, as he desperately tried to prove himself wrong. 

Followed by relief at finding Riley and learning the blood was not from an injury, but from a normal bodily function. 

Then embarrassment, because he freaked out and barged in on her over something he could’ve deduced for himself if only he’d just stopped to think. He’s supposed to be smart, so why couldn’t that big brain of his, as Jack would say, figure this out? 

The answer to that question, at least, comes easily: Because it’s Riley, and he doesn’t always think with his head when it comes to her. 

For example, while he’s mortified at seeing her naked, a part of him wishes she’d been facing the other direction. 

Mac starts the washing machine and decides to do the mature thing and hide in the kitchen for the entire foreseeable future. He spies Harley lying on the couch, gazing out a window. “And where were you for all of this?” he asks. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.” 

Harley stares at him for a few seconds before resuming her vigil, and Mac hears the message, loud and clear: You’re on your own. 

When Riley still hasn’t emerged from the bedroom long after the shower turned off, Mac suspects that she’s hiding too. He doesn’t blame her. 

It’s late morning by the time the laundry is finished, and Mac can’t hide any longer. Clutching the still-warm sheets and blankets to his chest, he cautiously ventures into the bedroom. Riley is lying on the bed with her knees tucked up to her chin, and a pang of sympathy echoes in Mac’s chest. Her eyes are closed, but Mac doubts that she’s actually asleep. 

Dropping the sheets on the floor, he asks, “Are you alive?” 

Riley groans. “No.” 

“Could you please go die on the couch then, so I can make the bed?” She groans again and mumbles something incoherent. “Also you’ll feel better if you eat something.” 

“No I won’t.” She sounds like a whining toddler, and Mac has to stifle a snort. Still, a bit of the awkwardness dissipates. But only a bit. 

“Yes you will. I know you, Miss Hangry.” 

“I’m not hangry.” 

“Says the one who skipped breakfast.” 

“I was hiding from you.” 

“So was I,” Mac confesses. Riley cracks a single eye open at that, just in time to see his cheeks heat. “Trust me, I am way more embarrassed than you.” 

It takes him a second to notice that she’s blushing too. “Wanna bet?” 

Mac starts putting the fitted sheet on the unoccupied side of the mattress. “I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Nothing he hasn’t seen before, anyway, but Mac wisely decides to keep that part to himself. “Victoria’s secret is still a secret,” he adds with a wink. 

Riley rolls her eyes. “You did not just say that.” 

“Made you laugh, didn’t it?” Mac gives her a shit-eating grin, and despite her best attempt at hiding it, amusement slips through the cracks in Riley’s unimpressed facade. 

“Whatever. We don’t have to do anything today, do we?” Mac raises his brow at the question. For all the years he’s known Riley, she’s always been more of a ‘suck it up’ kind of person, not a ‘stay in bed’ person. So her question is surprising, if not mildly concerning. 

“Nope.” He pauses. “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.” 

Riley rolls onto her back. “Dude, it feels like someone took a cheese grater to my insides.” 

Mac winces at the mental image. “Ouch.” 

She pauses, as if contemplating her next words before she says them. “I got a new IUD a couple months ago, and this one makes my cramps way worse. I used to be able to ignore them, but this sucks.” 

Not knowing how to reply to that, he squeezes Riley’s ankle in a way he hopes is reassuring. Mac flicks his gaze up to meet hers and finds Riley already looking at him. Her gaze is warm and steady, but Mac can see hints of pain clouding her dark eyes. He thinks it isn’t fair that her body turns on her like this. 

"I'm getting back in bed the second you're done making it," she warns. 

"Go right ahead." 

Riley wanders into the kitchen, and, true to her word, reappears right when Mac finishes smoothing down the comforter, with Harley at her heels. To Mac's surprise, Harley jumps on the bed, waits for Riley to get situated, and then tucks herself into Riley's side. A smile blooms on his face. Riley puts an arm around Harley, pulling the dog into her stomach before moving to scratch her head. When Harley licks Riley’s face in return, Mac suddenly gets the feeling he's watching something private. 

Satisfied that Riley is in capable hands, Mac leaves without another word.

*****

Beneath the weathered wooden conference table, Harley’s head rests on Mac’s foot as she dozes through the Patriots’ council meeting. When they arrived, no one looked more put off by their presence than Conrad, but, true to his word, Ethan welcomed Mac and Riley with open arms and encouraged their participation. A murmur of dissent snaked through the room, but no one openly questioned Ethan’s decision to include them. 

Twenty minutes in, Mac would rather be anywhere but here. The “meeting” so far has been very little business and mostly rehashing some fishing trip a few of the guys went on over the weekend. Mac is holding out hope that it won’t be a complete waste of his time, but said hope dwindles each time someone exaggerates about the size of a fish. 

There’s nothing interesting to look at in the room, save for Riley. No art, no plants, no wall of guns. Not even a clock. Just drab gray walls with no windows. And he doesn’t dare study any of the men for longer than a second or two each. Making an enemy is as easy as looking at someone the wrong way, and Mac has no desire to antagonize the other members of the Patriots…at least not yet. 

Extricating his foot from beneath Harley’s head, he’s just about to make an excuse about needing to use the restroom when Ethan’s phone rings. After quickly checking it, Ethan excuses himself from the meeting with a curt nod to Conrad. Mac understands the look; he’s given and received it countless times himself, after all. Permission to continue without him. Because despite his tendency to toe the line, Conrad is still Ethan’s trusted lieutenant. The exchange is subtle, practiced, and apparently insignificant to the other men at the table, who are somehow still talking about fish. 

When the storytelling finally lulls, Conrad clears his throat. "Let's start with recruitment. Report." No nonsense, right to the point. Maybe he’s tired of the fish conversation too. 

As Conrad steers the conversation through the various items on the agenda, Mac realizes two things. 

One, the Patriots are far more organized than he originally made them out to be. This is no grassroots startup, and their plans go much deeper than protests and parking lot shootings. 

Two, Conrad is careful not to let anyone share too much information, instead asking everyone to give their detailed reports in individual meetings. And it's more than just trying to keep him and Riley in the dark. It's almost as if…almost as if Conrad doesn't want anyone to see the big picture besides himself. 

Mac decides to take his theory for a test drive. "I know I'm new here," he says, "but why have everyone meet with you a second time individually instead of sharing their full reports now? Wouldn't that be a better use of time?" 

Conrad sneers. "On the contrary, boy, why would I waste everyone's time making them listen to information they don't need to know?" 

It takes every ounce of Mac’s self control not to roll his eyes. 

Beneath the table, Riley grips his knee, nails digging in through his khakis. Mac wants to tell her that he’s thinking the same thing she is, but he can’t. The best he can settle for is a brief touch on her arm before needing to do something with his hands to distract himself from the way his skin burns under her touch. He elects to drum his fingers on the table, mostly to push Conrad’s buttons even further. 

If Conrad’s furrowed brow is any indication, it works. 

“Do you mind?” Conrad says with a pointed glare at Mac’s hand. 

Feigning ignorance, Mac replies, “Mind about what?” 

“The tapping.” 

“Oh!” Mac makes a show of sliding his gaze down to his hand before flattening his palm against the table. “My bad.” 

Looking none too pleased, Conrad moves on, but to Mac’s surprise, the man sitting beside him leans in to whisper, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He's not the one to piss off." His words are tinged with genuine concern, and under different circumstances, Mac would appreciate the advice. 

"He's a man," Mac whispers back, "just like everyone else at this table." Minus Riley, of course. 

The man presses on. "The previous occupant of your seat was shot point blank for asking too many questions." Mac's brows raise at that. "You're sitting in a dead man's chair." 

Mac pockets that little detail gratefully, but he hesitates before ultimately heeding the man's warning. He fiddles with the button on his sleeve, impatiently waiting for the meeting to end so he can share his theory with Riley. 

What Mac doesn't anticipate is Riley beating him to it, pulling him aside before they're even back in the car. "Conrad's compartmentalizing information," she says in a quiet, confident tone. 

They’re too exposed to be having this conversation. Mac nervously checks for eavesdroppers, but doesn’t spot any. Deeming it safe for now, he replies, "Yeah I thought so too." 

"He's made himself essential. No one else knows how everything works." Riley pauses, eyes catching on something over his shoulder. Barely audibly, she adds, "An asshole and a control freak." He doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s looking at Conrad, not when she has a white-knuckled grip on Harley’s leash. 

"So if we eliminate him…" 

Riley nods in understanding. He’s controlling everything in an attempt to rise through the rankings and seize power. So if they eliminate Conrad, the whole organization may very well come tumbling down in his wake. 

Now they just have to figure out how the hell to accomplish that. 

"What if we help him?" Riley suggests, reading Mac’s mind. 

"What?" 

"We've spent all this time looking for the weakest link, but maybe…maybe we need to attach ourselves to the strongest one." A stray curl falls in Riley's face, and as she brushes it behind her ear, Mac absentmindedly wishes his fingers were brushing it back instead. Riley continues, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we should help him become more powerful than he already is. That way, we can do as much damage as possible when we take him out." 

A man they don't know walks by, and Mac nods in greeting. Waiting for the man to move out of earshot, Mac drops to one knee, giving Harley a good scratch. She wags her tail and opens her mouth in a smile, clearly enjoying the attention. When the coast is clear again, Mac says, "You just made this op so much longer, but I think you're right." 

Riley snorts. "What, is there somewhere else you need to be?" 

Gazing up at the woman before him, the answer is obvious. Not unless you're coming with me. 

*****

In the gray hour before dawn crests over the world, Mac wakes to something tickling his nose. He exhales sharply, trying to blow it away, but the tickle persists.

His face is pressed into the nape of Riley's neck, and a deep inhale causes a few strands of her hair to go up his nostrils. Reaching up to brush Riley’s hair out of his face, he hesitates right before his calloused fingers brush her skin, afraid that even the barest touch will shatter the moment. As soon as Riley wakes, he'll have to hide behind his mask of indifference, and Mac isn't ready to do that yet. 

For as long as he dares, Mac allows himself to imagine what it would be like to wake up with Riley for real, in his own home. He sees her curled in his bed, sheets pulled up to her chin, hears the soft, steady cadence of her breathing, smells the lingering traces of perfume on her skin. 

Riley stirs in his arms, and the vision blurs, moving out of reach. Mac grasps for it, but it evaporates into nothingness as she settles back against him. 

He shifts his focus to the very real sensation of Riley’s body tucked into his. Her back to his chest, his leg slotted between hers, her ass pressed against his—

Shit. 

Mac jerks backward, trying to put as much space between them as possible before Riley wakes and realizes just what she scooted back against. 

Except, in his haste, Mac doesn’t realize there’s a third party present until his foot slams into the small, warm body lying at the foot of the bed. Guilt washes over him at Harley’s ensuing yelp. 

Awake, Riley mumbles, “Did you just kick the dog?” 

“It was an accident!” Mac insists, sitting up. He turns his attention to Harley. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You can come back if you want.” He pats the bed in a way he hopes is reassuring, but Harley merely eyes him with suspicion before slinking out of the room. 

“I can’t believe you kicked the dog,” Riley says, still half-asleep. “She finally slept with us, and you betrayed her.” 

“I told you it was an accident!” 

“Betrayal.” 

Mac rakes a hand through his hair. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?” 

“Nope.” Riley sighs, rolling back to her side of the bed, and Mac isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Or maybe a little bit of both. “You better go apologize.” 

Mac scoffs. “And let you take over the entire bed while I’m gone? I don’t think so.” 

And there it is. The closest they’ve come to acknowledging the evolution of their bed-sharing habits. Particularly the newfound lack of sticking to their respective sides. If he’s being honest with himself, Mac doesn’t know where to go from here. He wants to see it as a sign of things changing between them. Obviously Riley is aware of their precarious positioning, but based on her casual relocation, she doesn’t see this any differently than the dozens of times they’ve slept squished in a small space together in the past. Whether she’s aware of the other thing, she doesn’t let on. 

“Your funeral,” Riley says, pulling Mac out of his head. 

Right. 

The dog. 

The dog whose forgiveness he needs to earn via extra breakfast. Maybe extra dinner too. 

Sighing, Mac goes after her, cursing his inability to get things right with either of the females in this house. 

.

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#beth writes #looking through a window au #macgyver #macriley #angus macgyver #riley davis

[sadviper]

Woo Do Hwan: Interview with Kankoku TV Drama vol. 97 (Aug 2020)

Once again, much thanks to @staidwaters​ for graciously reviewing and correcting!!! This was a really hefty interview, hope you enjoy~

-------------

Woo Do Hwan

Sword, bow, and horseback riding for the first time

A “Monstrous Newcomer” in a career-making, historical drama debut

In 2016, in the movie “Master”, Woo Do Hwan played the role of Lee Byung Hyun’s subordinate. Even though he appeared onscreen for just three minutes, he left a strong impression, attracting attention. Since then, he starred in “Save Me” (2017 OCN), taking on the nickname of “Monstrous Newcomer” and setting out on a brilliant career path. The next step he takes will be his first historical drama “My Country” (2019 JTBC).

Tackling a historical drama is an ideal chance for young and promising actors to grow; they have a rare chance to study in depth with multiple superb veteran actors over the long filming period. Woo Do Hwan did not miss this opportunity. His new work “The King: Eternal Monarch” (2020 SBS) leverages 120% of what he learned from “My Country”, and his popularity is surging.

Struck by a midwinter waterfall, the most dreadful and frigid opportunity to showcase yourself

--What kind of work is ”My Country”?

WDH: Each of the characters clash with the others for the sake of their personal convictions. This drama depicts their love and friendships. The country they are each reaching for … in a way, you could say they seek the same goal. Everyone wants a country in which they can live happily, but each person has a different path to that goal. This work skillfully depicts the conflicts that arise in the midst of this.

--Please introduce the role that you play.

WDH: Nam Seon-ho is an illegitimate child born to a family of nobles (yanban), and he has suffered greatly because of his birth. The poor guy is only able to relax his guard and laugh when he is with Seo Hwi (played by Yang Se Jong) and his younger sister Yeon (played by Jo Yi Hyun). However, even under such circumstances, he holds onto his ambitions. He doesn’t want other people to experience the same kind of pain that he has endured, so he strives to become the right-hand man of Yi Seong-gye (played by Kim Young-cheol), the future founder and king of the Joseon Dynasty. However, it doesn’t go as expected and I end up in opposition to Hwi, my dearest friend.

--What things did you pay attention to when creating the role?

WDH: Since it’s a period drama, it was difficult to get used to the way of speaking and tone of voice. It took me a while to get the hang of it. Now  I have the opposite problem, I’m doing my best to shake off the historical tone (laughs).

--The gorgeous hairstyles and clothing were a sight to behold.

WDH: Honestly, at first I thought “Long hair probably won’t suit me…” (laugh). So early on, I participated in many concept meetings and tried out different hairstyles. Even with long hair, there are many different hairstyles that can be made, such as wearing with armor or tying it up. I collaborated with the director to choose the most suitable style according to the situation in the drama. I was able to try on as many outfits as hairstyles, but I really enjoyed being  able to wear the special costumes such as the armor and the inspector’s garments; things we normally don’t get the chance to wear.

--How did you practice horseback riding, swordsmanship, and archery?

WDH: Before filming started, I studied martial arts for about two months. Filming lasted nine months, so in total I was focused on this work for a whole year. While filming action, it’s important to skillfully capture the scene, but the most essential thing is to not to get hurt. For that reason, the cinematographer, my co-stars, and I always had to be in perfect sync. It took time to match movements for the sword fights.

--You became the topic of much discussion when you revealed your magnificent physique in a waterfall during the opening of the drama. What are your secrets for managing your fitness?

WDH: I train on a regular basis. If I only started working out when I knew there were going to be scenes with skin showing, it’d be stressful trying to build up my body in a short period of time for shooting. After all, I don’t know when or where I will have to strip down for a scene! (laugh) Usually I play a lot of soccer, and I’ll go to the gym to train if I have time. If I take care of myself properly as a habit, then I don’t need to worry if my body looks good or if I should put in more effort during acting; I can just concentrate on my performance.

--Was the director’s reaction a good one?

WDH: He was extremely happy, hahaha. They keep trying to make me take my clothes off, so I was like, “Come on, give me a break!” The road to the filming location for the waterfall scene was rugged and steep and it was incredibly cold; it was the most difficult scene. Se-jong even said “I never want to go into water that cold again”.

--A lot of viewers said that “Nam Seon-ho is the most pitiful man in the world.” How do you personally feel?

WDH: I wanted to present Seon-ho as a tragic figure, so I was glad that the audience saw him the same way; it encouraged me to put in even more effort and I worked hard to build up his character. Seon-ho constantly stands on the boundary between life and death, living a life where he might die at any moment. He never manages to accomplish any of his dreams, and it is only at the very end that he realizes what is most precious to him. However, even though Seon-ho is a tragic character, if we just focused on the sadness the drama would be hard to watch and it wouldn’t be interesting at all. Therefore I wanted to show many things with him, such as him being a powerful figure, and the loneliness his power hides.

He was able to finish the drama because he was with Se-jong, his co-star of the same age.

--At what points did you sympathize with Seon-ho?

WDH: There is always a conflict in Seon-ho’s life in that he always has to sacrifice something in order to get something he wants. Seon-ho’s situation is an extreme case, of course, but I think that in our lives there are many moments like his, even if they are small and trivial. Moments when we desire what we can’t have, or throw away things we shouldn’t throw away. There are also moments when we all have to give something up for the sake of a goal that we are reaching for.  In the midst of that, I worried about the things that I should protect, so I deeply sympathized with Seon-ho, whose ideals and emotions were in conflict with each other.

--Your portrayal of the character’s emotions was well-received. When was Seon-ho the most emotional?

WDH: It would be when he heard that Seo Hwi was alive. I had a deep rapport with Se-jong in all my scenes with him. From a certain point onwards, the events in the drama truly felt real, and I fell more and more in love with Se-jong (laugh). I deeply empathized with Seon-ho’s emotions, which made me want to perform even more intensely in this work.

--Concerning expressing emotions, are you the type to do a lot of preparation beforehand? Or are you the type to perform what you feel on the spot?

WDH: I think I am half-and-half. Beforehand, I’ll think, “So we’re filming this kind of scene today”,  why is this happening, and what was the situation before this scene? However, it’s difficult to continuously hold onto emotions because there are rehearsals and blocking out our positions with the director. So I will concentrate on creating the emotion in the moment when acting.

--And what about your mutually dependent relationship with Yang Se-jong, who played the role of Seo Hwi?

WDH: I believe it would have been very difficult if Se-jong hadn’t been there. I relied on him a lot. The make-up room was set up in a large van onsite, and while our hair was being done, we would go over our lines. If one person said their lines, then the other person would just naturally respond with their own lines. We are the same age, not just in the drama but also in real life, so in both the Goryeo and modern eras, we were always communicating well, back and forth.

Se-jong always helped me, and even though we were together on location for very long periods of time, not once did we fight or have a conflict of opinion. We spent our time together as good friends, always being considerate of each other.

--There were many scenes of Seon-ho and Hwi’s friendship that brought out tears, but was there a particular scene where you especially felt the friendship between the two?

WDH: All those scenes where we rescued each other. Especially that scene in the latter half, where Hwi took Seon-ho out of Yi Bang-won’s (played by Jang Hyuk) house; that was memorable. Then in the first half, during the massacre of the Liaodong Punitive Expedition advance party, there’s a scene where we cross swords in the midst of combat and I recognize my dear friend Hwi. That scene was very good and had a big impact.

--What is your impression of Seolhyun (AOA) as Han Hee-jae?

WDH: Seolhyun was truly a “celebrity” to me (laugh). She is one of Korea’s top idols; I’ve seen her movies. When I heard that she would be co-starring with me, I was very much looking forward to it. Once we were actually performing together, I was amazed that her acting was even better than I expected. Seolhyun was the youngest on location, but she had a very mature attitude during filming. In front of a large crowd of her seniors, she played a bold and strong woman. I was impressed.

--The antagonism between Seon-ho and his father was one of the highlights of the drama. How was it like to co-star with Ahn Nae-sang, who played the role of your father?

WDH: Ahn Nae-sang sunbae was like a real father, a very interesting person. Although he’d say “Seon-ho is an impertinent son” (laugh), he worked well with me, and did a lot for me. During breaks, he tells jokes and lightens the atmosphere on set, but once filming starts, his gaze radically changes and he becomes a terrifying father. He’s not someone who hands out advice left and right to juniors, rather, he is a person who reacts kindly and looks after us. 

Extremely jealous of Se-jong’s Japanese fanmeet

--What are your thoughts on successfully wrapping up your first historical drama?

WDH: I wore hanbok, long wigs, and armor--I got to experience all of these things for the first time. I’ve also never done things like swordsmanship, archery, or horseback riding, so each one of those was a new challenge. Because I have never lived in that time period, I worried about how I should portray it. Despite that, I enjoyed everything. The remote locations that I visited were very beautiful, and during breaks it was a wonderful experience to enjoy the scenery and watch the seasons change instead of sitting in the dressing room. I’ve heard from my seniors that once you’ve done one historical drama, you’ll want to do another, and now I know what that feeling is like for myself.

--What was the most memorable location?

WDH: In the opening scenes, I often went to the countryside, but first I filmed the waterfall scene and the cliff scene. That cliff scene was absolutely terrifying. I scaled the cliff and did the action scene, but I thought...I might actually die if I fall (strained laugh).

--Watching the behind-the-scenes footage, you seem the quiet type but at the Japanese fanmeeting, I feel that you were skilled at speaking onstage. What is your actual personality?

WDH: Do I look like someone who doesn’t say much? I’m definitely not the talkative type, though. Hahaha. I talk a lot when I’m with Se-jong, but the interesting thing is, how much Se-jong and I will say changes depending on the day. On some days Se-jong speaks more than I do, and on other days I won’t shut up (laugh).

--Since filming continued for about a year, was it difficult to break free from the role of Seon-ho?

WDH: Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought about Seon-ho without today’s interview. However, Seon-ho’s sword is in my living room, so whenever I see it, I’m going to remember (laugh). But because I can’t use historical speech in the drama that I’m currently filming, I try to forget as much as possible.

--Currently you’re in the middle of filming the drama “The King”, right?

WDH: In “The King”, one person plays two different roles. The show depicts parallel worlds. In one world, Lee Min-ho sunbae plays the emperor and my character, Jo Yeong, has been by the emperor’s side since childhood and is the captain of the Royal Guard. In the other world, I am Jo Eun-seop, a social service worker whose personality is the complete opposite to Yeong’s. I’m having a lot of fun filming this, so please look forward to it.

--What does “my country” mean to you?

WDH: I believe it’s the people around me. I have family, I have friends, and I also have colleagues. A life where I can live happily with all of them, that is my dream country, I guess. No one goes on without desire, so I want to live together while caring for each other.

--You’ve been called the “Monstrous Newcomer”. With this kind of recognition, do you feel pressured?

WDH: I’m always under pressure. However, I tell myself I can’t lose to it, I have to work harder to overcome it.

--Finally, a message to your Japanese fans.

WDH: 2020 was the year I definitely wanted to meet all my Japanese fans, but filming for “The King” started earlier than expected and hasn’t finished yet. I was incredibly jealous when I heard that Se-jong held a Japanese fan meeting at the end of 2019. When “The King” finishes, I would like to meet you all. Until then, please take care of yourself and be happy. I will do my best to finish my work and greet you in good form. If you haven’t seen “My Country” yet, I definitely invite you to watch it.  I also hope you look forward to “The King”.

You can direct fan mail to:

KEYEAST / 30, 11-Gil, Hakdong-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul 06042 Korea

#woo do hwan #my country the new age #mctna #japanese translation #interview #韓国TVドラマ #the king eternal monarch #tkem

[btsinwonderland]

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 11: Confused

A Loki fanfiction!

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He stared at you and put a hand to your chin. “You are so beautiful,” he said.

You blushed and moved your face close to his, much braver than you really were, since you knew it was a dream. His gaze bore through yours and he leaned down, gently pressing his lips to yours. Unbidden, you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss. It was a feeling of complete ecstasy. Though, you felt strangely weighted on one side of your body than the other and you did not know why. You brushed that thought aside and continued to kiss Loki. His lips were so smooth it drove you mad.

“Oh, Loki,” you said, licking across his lips.

“Had I known you would be this...zealous in the morning, I might have had you here sooner,” his voice was a low purr.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked into his wide blues. Oh no. Oh god. Your stomach dropped as you rubbed your lips together and felt wetness...his saliva. Your professor’s saliva.

You launched yourself away from him so hard that you fell off the bed in a pile of sheets and a pillow you tried grabbing onto.

Professor Laufeyson’s dark head peeked over the side of the bed, eyebrows raised. “Are you alright Miss Eves?”

You felt for your clothes, relieved to feel them there and that you had not stripped them off in the middle of the night like a lust driven maniac. The desire to disappear into the ground occurred, but you forced yourself to raise your eyes and look up at him. “Professor, I am so sorry, I-I thought it was a dream.”

He rolled over onto his stomach and rested his head in his hands with a smirk. “And what, pray tell, would you be dreaming about, Miss Eves?” He said with an eyebrow raised as he looked down at your body. You felt yourself grow self-conscious and lifted the sheet closer to you even though you were clothed. He had never looked at you like that before. There was a mischievous gleam in his gaze that made you feel like you were the only interesting thing in the room. And that was a dangerous notion.

You glanced at his side where the wound was. The bandages. “How are you feeling?”

He looked down at himself and lightly grazed the spot. “Well, it seems you picked the right potion, since I have not grown any vestigial organs,” he looked back at you and smiled. “You saved my life, Miss Eves.”

You looked away from his intense gaze. “T-thank you for coming to get me back there. You saved my life too.” Then a thought popped into your mind. You cocked your head to the side. “If you could apparate us out of there, why did you wait until Fenris recovered? Why didn’t you get us out of there right away?” You looked at him and he smiled wider, like a cat caught with a canary in its mouth.

Your butterflies withered away in anger. “You didn’t come for me. You went to look for Fenris to find the Tesseract!”

He got off the bed and circled his hands in the air. The sheets levitated off of you and neatly reassembled themselves atop the bed. “I saw students go where they ought not to be, so I did my duty as a professor. Then, there was an opportunity so -”

“An opportunity?” You said, indignant. “Before or after I get eaten by the beast?”

He stopped arranging his bed and walked around it, towards you. “Come off the floor, love.”

You refused to take his hand, but you sat on the bed beside him, crossing your arms.

He smiled at your movements in the sort of way that could disarm you completely, but you held strong against his charms. He reached out to your face and moved a stray lock of hair away. His fingers lingered there, and he caressed your cheek. “I would not let anything happen to you. In all honesty, I had not planned to face the creature this early, but I went into the forest because of you.”

The butterflies came back slowly, one at a time, filling your stomach with a steady mixture of happiness and fear. “So, you will go after Fenris again? Even though you nearly died this time?”

Professor Laufeyson lowered his hand and took a breath. He looked away from you for a moment, and you thought you saw a look of forlorn on his face. “Yes I will, but,” he said, turning back to you, “it will be on the coldest night of winter, for that is apparent when he is at his weakest.”

Your eyes lit up. “So that’s at least two months from now!” I can still save him.

Professor Laufeyson chuckled at your excitement. Then his gaze darkened as he looked at you with that look in his eyes that made your heart leap into your throat. He leaned towards you and spoke in your ear. “Now, what shall I do to bide my time?” His voice was low and husky.

You felt your nipples harden underneath your shirt and reflexively leaned into his body as he placed one gentle kiss on your neck. Then, as soon as you felt him, he was gone, and you nearly fell back onto the bed. You looked up, confused to see him standing at the end of the bed, with a wide grin.

“As your professor, Miss Eves, it is my duty to reprimand you for breaking the rules. I will speak with the head of your house, Professor Bjorn, regarding your...punishment. For now, minus thirty points for Hufflepuff.”

You scoffed. “What?”

His eyes glinted dangerously. “Did you really think I would let you run free when you nearly killed yourself and endangered two other students? There are no favourites to be played here, Miss Eves, if that’s what you were thinking.” His gaze lowered and though his words were completely proper, the low tone of his voice and the intensity of his gaze seemed to say something else entirely. Just wait and see, he seemed to say. “I’ll put in a good word with the Headmistress not to expel you and your friends, since you did manage to save the boy.” He actually winked at you and gestured to the door for you to leave. “You may want to visit your friends in the infirmary. I’m sure they’ll be worried sick.”

Still in shock about the drastic change of tone, you got up and walked to the door. You looked back, wondering what happened, or if you had done something to elicit the change. When you looked back at him, he was occupied with arranging his wardrobe for the day, not even looking at you.

Your heart sank a little, but you left without another word.

***

After a long warm shower, and a change of clothes, you felt a bit like yourself again. Your black pleated skirt hung crisply over your thighs and you adored the feeling of putting on fresh black knee-high socks. You sighed with a comforted relief. Your hair was damp, clean and smelled subtly of roses.

You tried to avoid thinking about Professor Laufeyson and failed miserably. It was the thought of being suspended that lingered in your brain. What if he could not convince Headmistress Frigga not to expel you? It was not as if he curried much favour with anyone at the school.

Then there was his strange behaviour. Was it because you accidentally kissed him? Oh, what a fool! How incredibly inappropriate. You berated yourself, though a small part of you, the evil hedonistic part, cheered you on grandly. For a brief moment, you thought he had enjoyed himself...just a little? Though, he was the type of person who always seemed to enjoy themselves, whether or not they really did. Professor Laufeyson could put on whatever emotion he wanted like a second skin, regardless of what he felt underneath.

An annoyed huff escaped your lips as you passed the halls and walked to the infirmary.

“You lying, cheating scum!”

Turning around, you saw a livid Valkyrie stalk towards you as if she might attack. Oh dear, she looked terribly angry.

You raised your hands up in defense. “Listen-”

“Oh, don’t you ‘listen’ me! I can’t believe you went off to the Forbidden Forest and nearly got yourself killed without me!” She looked genuinely hurt, though you burst into laughter.

“I-I’m sorry, you were injured, and I didn’t want to put you in danger!” you said, and she punched you in the arm. “Ow! I’m quite bruised I’ll have you know,” you said, frowning.

“Oh sod off, you seem well enough...but I am proud of you,” she said, linking her arm through yours with a grumble.

You glanced at her with a grateful smile. The best thing about Valkyrie was that she never stayed mad for long, though it happened frequently.

“You saved the kid, and I’m bloody jealous! You’re gonna ruin Gryffindor’s reputation with that attitude,” she said, elbowing you gently.

Both of you laughed and headed towards the infirmary. You were cut off when you saw Headmistress Frigga along with several other teachers waiting for you.

“I see you’re well,” Headmistress Frigga said, looking down at you. A twinkle remained in her eyes and you could not tell whether she was angry or impressed.

Beside her stood Professor Sif, Bjorn, Heimdall, Fandral, and Hogun. Professor Sif looked angry as ever and threw you and Valkyrie a poisonous gaze. Professor Bjorn stood off to the side, holding his hand stiffly in his pocket as if were trying to concentrate on staying absolutely still. Professor Heimdall looked through you with disappointment, and that was what initially soured your laughter right away. Fandral and Hogun looked stern, though they regarded you with a sympathetic smile.

You hung your head and let go of Valkyrie, who whispered “good luck”.

“Can I see them?” you said.

“Absolutely not!” Professor Sif spat.

Headmistress Frigga chuckled. “Now, now, Professor Sif, I think that she deserves to check in on her friends. Pom has been asking about you all morning.”

She led you to the main room where several of those students who suffered injuries from the bird attack during the Quidditch game laid in bed. Though the room felt smaller than the last time you were there visiting Valkyrie.

There was Pom, sitting in a chair beside her brother, who laid in bed with a large bandage on the side of his body. There was a space where his arm should have been and your heart twinged for him. You had not heard of any spell or potion that could regenerate an entire limb.

“Freya!” Pom said, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. She jumped off her chair and ran to embrace you.

You smiled and hugged her back tightly. “I’m so glad he’s alright,” you said.

Pom stepped towards her brother, who was sleeping, and brushed his hand. “He’s alive because of you, and I don't know how we could ever repay you.” She looked back at you with tears in her eyes.

“He’s alive, and that’s all that matters,” you said, smiling at Pom.

Headmistress Frigga stood to the side, waiting for you. You turned to her and pleaded, “please don’t punish them. I made Mo and Pom come with me. It was all my fault.”

Pom was beginning to protest, but you cut her off with a look.

The Headmistress smiled at you with a knowing expression. “Come, Freya.” She led you away from the bed and towards the infirmary exit where the others were. “What you did some might consider foolish,” she said, hands clasped behind her back.

You looked at the floor as you walked.

“But others may call it brave.”

You glanced at her and she looked at you with a twinkle in her eyes. “I cannot condone your behavior, Freya, but you did manage to rescue Ken Clemmens. I don’t think he would have survived another day alone had you not found him. Fifty points shall be awarded to Hufflepuff for your bravery.”

As you entered the hallway where the professors stood, a small smile reached your lips at Headmistress Frigga’s generosity. A glare from Professor Sif wiped the smile off your face as you awaited your punishment. But you felt a little lighter knowing you would not be expelled.

“Well, it seems we have some punishments to dole out, don’t we?” Headmistress Frigga said. “Miss Clemmens will be assisting Professor Fandral for detention for the rest of the term, while Mister Darwish will assist Professor Hogun in the gardens. As for you, Miss Eves, you will be assisting Professor Sif this week with events preparation. The Halloween Ball was set to be cancelled. However, I believe it is a time to celebrate, now that we have our missing student alive and well.”

You lightened a little more at your punishment, though you were not excited to spend any more time with Sif. The Halloween Ball was something you and Valkyrie looked forward to every year.

“And, for the rest of the term, Miss Eves will assist Professor Laufeyson for detention,” the Headmistress announced.

You felt your stomach drop. “Excuse me, madame?”

Professor Fandral saw the terror on your face and said to the Headmistress, “Are you sure? She can assist me with Miss Clemmens if she would like.”

Professor Bjorn coughed and said in his raspy voice, “or she can assist me, out in the fields. I got flobberworms eatin’ all the cabbages.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of detention with Professor Laufeyson, though not all of it was dread.

Professor Sif grumbled. “Nobody switches detention. What, Miss Eves, are you scared of our new Potions master?” She said with a vicious smile and a raised brow.

A sudden flash of jealousy hit you when you realized Professor Sif must have been thinking of the night she and Professor Laufeyson had...relations. You raised your eyes to face her. “No, I am not.”

“Lovely!” Headmistress Frigga said with a clap of her hands. “Then let us embark on the month of October with raised spirits, and a better inclination to follow the rules, hm?” Headmistress Frigga said, adding the last bit in a lower tone for you.

You nodded as your stomach was once again home to thousands of butterflies just wondering what in all hell Professor Laufeyson would do with you in detention.

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fics #loki fan fiction #tom hiddleston #loki of asgard #loki (marvel) #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #hogwarts au #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki series #mcu loki #loki show #loki disney+ #Professor Loki #Loki of Hogwarts #bad loki #good loki #mysterious loki #angst #fluff #adventure story #tom hiddleston loki #slow burn

[jade-marie]

Heyyy. With all this supposed romantic jealousy and like you said ‘dick measuring’ game that Nick and Rio are playing, I think about the scene in the car after Beth got Rio arrested and Nick got him out. Rio said: “so what do you want to do about [Beth?] and Nick said “not what you want to do.” This scene makes it seem like they have a plan that they’re BOTH in on to deal with Beth. I’m at first I thought they were playing good cop/bad cop (I still think they are) but now Rio is clearly uncomfortable with Nick’s plan. What the fuck is going on because I am confused?

Also do you think the dynamic between Nick and Rio will become clearer by the finale? They seem to have a very complex relationship and wow, who would have thought utilising one of your best and most underused character that LITERALLY DRIVES THE WHOLE MAIN PLOT would make the show interesting again 🤔

Hi, doll! Ok, you’re gonna have to bear with me because my brain is messy at the best of times and I’ve had a non stop headache since yesterday morning, so making sense of my thoughts is hella difficult right now lol. I’m just gonna break this up into sections to help me keep track of everything!

P.s. I’m sorry this got long 🥴

Rio and Nick’s dynamic

So, from what we’ve seen so far, Nick is extremely narcissistic, manipulative, and selfish. In my opinion, he doesn’t really seem to have a very strong sense of self or morality, he just becomes whoever he needs to, in order to achieve the goal at hand. Whether it’s kissing ass at the golf club, playing politics, or having Rio thrown in jail/beaten with a stool. He’s always thinking about the long game, always about the bigger picture, he likes to use every situation/person to his advantage. He seems to have some sort of resentment and/or jealousy towards Rio and that comes out a lot in his desire to take from Rio. He took his dreams of being a boxing a boxer, his freedom, trivial stuff like the burger and the basketball. I also think he wants to take Beth but they’ve not made it clear in what capacity he wants to take her. Whether it’s because he’s clocked that Rio has/had genuine feelings for her, or because he thinks Beth is a business asset. Either way, he sees that Beth is a sore spot and he’s going to keep pushing as a way to exert power and feel like a man.

Rio, on the other hand, likes to see immediate results, and he can be pretty impulsive. He’s also very self-assured, he is who he is and he doesn’t change that for anyone. He literally has a giant tattoo across his throat which he displays proudly because he doesn’t care how anyone else sees him. But he has a natural charm and charisma that he can use when he needs it, without having to become a completely different person. I think he’s a very emotional person, regardless of how much he tries to hide it, which can make him pretty reactive to situations – see: basically every interaction with Beth.

They’re wildly different people and this would cause conflict in itself because they immediately want to handle situations differently, like with Annie being kidnapped. The girls owed him money, Rio was mad about it, and he wanted an immediate resolution to that problem, whereas Nick didn’t care so much about the short-term financial issues, in comparison to the long-term benefit to him of keeping Beth onside. Within their organisation, the structure is still kinda murky because he doesn’t seem to be the boss, but then he does and ehhh. Supposedly Rio handles all the illicit stuff and then Nick pushes through city contracts to shell corporations he owns and also makes money from that, as well as keeping Rio out of jail. The actual power imbalance between them still irks me because Nick is literally a councilman. He has no real clout. There’s no reason for him to have such a hold over Rio, especially when Rio knows exactly what Nick is and he also knows that Nick wouldn’t have dick without him. But I digress.

The conversation in the car

I definitely think that conversation is very relevant to what’s happening with Beth right now. In that moment, I think Rio wanted revenge, plain and simple but he was also thinking long term. I don’t think he was planning on going out to kill her, but that’s where Nick’s mind went because he severely underestimates how much of a “big picture guy” Rio can be hence telling Rio, “not what you want to do”. Presumably, there would’ve been a discussion between them off screen where Nick decided exactly what was going to happen and how they were going to use her. My guess is that going forward they were basically going to play a game of ‘good cop bad cop’. Nick offers himself up as the friendly local councilman, shows concern for Beth, helps her etc, while Rio is more menacing than ever. Rio is reluctantly going along with this plan because of the stupid power imbalance, but I think he’s got something up his sleeve. I think the discomfort we’re seeing from Rio stems from their difference in opinion on how to handle Beth, Rio chafing under Nick’s control and also the resentment Rio holds because of Nick’s constant routine of taking what’s his. I kinda spoke about it in this post.

Last time Beth got Rio arrested, he shot Dean - he’s not shy when it comes to payback. Typically, he’s always quite reactive to situations and that can (has) come to bite him in the ass but he knows this. He was there. He knows that every time he pushes Beth, she pushes back with equal force, so he needs to immobilise her. While Nick just wants to use Beth to benefit himself financially, by using her to push through contracts for shell corporations etc, I think Rio wanted to kill two birds with one stone. He can use Beth as a shield for his business and make money off her, then later on, I think he probably wants to use her to get rid of Nick and potentially let Beth go down with him as payback for her betrayal (at least, I think that was his original plan but he may soften to her and end up forming an alliance once Nick is out of the picture).

Romantic Jealousy?

As for the jealousy, it’s still not the word I’d choose to describe Rio. It probably fits, to a degree, but I always associate it with pettiness and wanting stuff you don’t have - i.e. Nick. With Rio, it feels more possessive over what he already has because he knows Nick wants to take it. This now extends to Beth because she was and is his, at least in a business sense. I don’t think he’s ever been particularly jealous of her in their personal relationship because neither of them ever truly gave into whatever it was. In business, she worked for him, she answered to him, if she needed help – she came to him, and he’s created that dynamic with Beth by keeping her isolated from his wider organisation. He was effectively trying to mentor her and make her in his image. Now, Nick comes along and suddenly Beth’s going to Nick for help, Beth’s doing what Nick says, and she’s looking to Nick as a mentor. So, once again, Nick is taking what belongs to Rio. That’s why I think he reacted the way he did in the strip club. He realised that he was about to lose to Nick again, and he wasn’t willing to let that happen, so he pulled out the ol’ carrot and stick. He took her money away as a punishment, made her think on her feet, and then rewarded her for a job well done. He showed her that she doesn’t need Nick because then Nick has no hold over her. He’s showing Beth that she can get shit done on her own, but also reminding her that he essentially made her what she is. He taught her. He believed in her. He asked her what she gained from being on the city council and doing what Nick tells her, knowing full well she gets fuck all out of it because he knows Nick. Then he gave her a reward to make ‘team Rio’ all the more appealing. Yes, there could well be some romantic feelings under that but I don’t think that’s what’s driving Rio right now. I think this is firmly about him and Nick, while Beth has become another toy for them to fight over.

#rio x nick #good girls nbc #rio good girls #nbc good girls #beth boland #brio #gg season 4 #rio x beth

[americasass81]

Love In The Wild

Warnings:- Fluff, M & F Smut (nothing too graphic), Very, very, very Mild Stalker Behavior, Mild Coarse Language, Teasing, Kinda Friends to Enemies to Lovers. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. All mistakes are my own. Feedback and reblogs are welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Pairing:- softish!Brock Rumlow x Named Female Character

Author’s Note 1:- Okay so this is once again a very special piece for @saiyanprincessswanie as she faces into yet another surgery. Good luck Missy and know that all our thoughts are with you. Hope this lifts your spirits and helps make you smile. {PS:- I also included a little Frank trivia in this but I’m not sure if anyone else will spot it}.

Author’s Note 2:- Thanks goes to @firefly-graphics​ for creating the included Floral Leaves divider. Please go check out Daisy’s work and pass on some love.

Author’s Note 3:- This is also my first time writing for a Named Character and I hope it works okay.

Synopsis:- Meeting a stranger in a place that holds a special place in your heart may be the key to unlocking your future happiness.

Word Count:- 5,378

Sitting out on the porch of the dining area as the morning sun shone its rays towards the ground and the early risers milled around the area, you wished you could wake up like this every morning. Nature was in full bloom all around and listening to the adults chatting while the odd child ran around enjoying their little freedom, you truly felt like you had come home. Finally feeling like yourself again, this trip was simply about reconnecting with nature and finding joy in the little things. Finishing up breakfast, you walked back through the lobby of the lodge and smiled as a small child skipped up to you and handed you some freshly picked wildflowers before running off back to her parents after you thanked her. Sniffing the flowers as you continued on back to your room, you remembered when you too held that child-like innocence and wondering where it went, you hoped that she at least would be someone who could hold onto hers.

Arriving at your room, you opened the door and stepping inside, placed the flowers in a glass of water before picking up the activity pamphlet and looking down the list of activities. Oakridge may have been a nature park, but that didn't stop it from having an impressive choice of activities for those that weren't exactly interested in the great outdoors. Deciding however that you would take advantage of the glorious morning and enjoy a hike along by the river flowing down from the mountains, you dressed accordingly, pulled out your hiking poles and headed off at a leisurely pace. Placing one foot in front of the other, the wind through the trees touched your soul and as you headed along the hiking trail you swore you could hear the voices of those that came before you reaching out across time and space to deliver the peace you had long since sought. Losing yourself in the wonder all around you, step by step your cares melted away as the sound of the nearby river and the local forest creatures reminded you why you were here in the first place.

Bending down to examine a rare plant, while taking a drink from your water bottle, it seemed that a higher power however had something else in mind for you when the sound of a branch snapping off to your right sharpened your senses and focused your attention firmly on your surroundings. Turning towards the sound as a burly, gruff looking man appeared before you, you figured him to be yet another park visitor until he opened his mouth and you identified him as nothing more than an annoyance.

"Well, well, well cricket, imagine finding you out here. You lost? I thought for sure someone like you'd be holed up back at the lodge with a hot chocolate and a nice book." he quipped and all you wanted to do was reach up and slap him. As it was you instead simply ignored him and walked away in the hope he would get the message.

Hope was not to be your friend in this scenario however as he easily caught up to you and began to point out all the ways in which the surrounding woodland was too dangerous for a delicate thing such as yourself. Breathing in the cool crisp air as you ventured further up the hiking trail, you did your best to ignore this intruder into your peaceful activity, but this task proved impossible as his next statement reached your ears. Asking if it was even safe for you to be outdoors and if you could tell the difference between common woodland plants and poison ivy, you finally had enough and rounded on him. "Now listen here you annoying little insect," you spat as he simply stood there looking at you as if enjoying your reaction, "I'll have you know that as a landscape architect this fragile little thing is far more capable of being outdoors than the likes of you."

Looking you up and down however with a smirk you would later come to enjoy, he simply took a step closer and asked what exactly a landscape architect was. After relaying in detail what exactly it was your job entailed, you finally had enough when he voiced his opinion that no such job actually existed and you were nothing more than a gardener. Losing all patience with him and taking in your strategic location, you smiled a glorious smile before placing your hands against his chest and leaning closer towards his ear. "You know what dickface, maybe my work doesn't sound like a real job, but it does give me the strength to do this," and with one powerful push and a huge amount of luck, the stranger found himself sitting in the river as you laughed and walked away from him.

Gazing after your retreating form as the river continued to flow around him and a few more visitors neared his location, he removed himself from his current location and heading back towards the lodge decided that your fiery spirit was definitely something he had to find a way to explore. Finishing off your hike before heading back to your room to freshen up, you hoped the rest of your trip was free of that arrogant stranger while you figured out what to do with the rest of your day.

Stripping off and stepping into the shower in another part of the lodge, Missy's stranger thought back on how he had landed himself in this position. Sure he thought it funny at the time to sneak up on her having secretly loved her from afar over the years, but seeing it from her point of view it probably wasn't the smartest move. Still he had to admit that fire in her was something to behold and he couldn't wait to see what fun they could have together. For now he set aside his desires, dressed quickly and casually and headed to his truck for his weekly trip to the city to pick up the few essentials he couldn't live without. Driving along with his reliable radio blasting his favorite music, he tried to figure out how best to make it up to his precious girl and so, once reaching the city, his first stop was the flower shop to begin his campaign.

Walking into the bright airy premises, it always amazed Brock just how successful this place had become. Browsing until the last customer completed their business, he then headed over to the counter where the owner and his oldest friend stood waiting with her usual smile. Explaining to Samantha the predicament he had landed himself in, she told him it would have been wonderful to see before she finally took pity on him and made up a special arrangement of roses, lilies and tulips. Agreeing to call back for them on his way home, he paid the bill then headed off on his other business hoping that this gesture would help thaw his beautiful little cricket. Two hours later, having finished up all that he needed to do and collecting the flowers with a warning from Samantha not to screw things up, he drove back to the park somewhat more chipper now that he had parts of a plan in place. Parking in the employee car park, he took the flowers to the reception desk and asked Annie to place them in room 37. Then returning out to his truck to begin removing his purchases, he waited to see if his apology would be accepted.

Stepping out of the shower feeling totally invigorated after your wonderful hike and the glorious shower, you dried off, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and stepped out into the living area to be greeted by a beautiful bouquet of freshly cut flowers. Looking around the room and finding nothing disturbed, you went to the door and peeked out into the hall and not seeing anyone around, shut the door and headed back towards the coffee table. Looking at the arrangement before bending down to inhale their heavenly scents, your eye caught the card poking out between the flowers. Reaching out to pluck the card carefully from the vase, a mixture of emotions worked their way through your body as you read the words displayed before you.

Rummaging around in the recesses of your mind for any explanation for the words staring back at you, your hand dropped the card and you contemplated throwing the vase, flowers included, at something when your mind latched on to the early morning events. Not knowing how the stranger had found out your name or which room you were staying in, the sheer audacity of him to think that you should be sorry for dumping his smug ass in the river made your blood boil and erased the peace and pleasure of the morning's activities. Still as you tried to calm down and remember that you were here to enjoy yourself, you instead decided to throw away the card and pretend the beautiful flowers were simply part of the room's decor. Finally happy with your decision, you picked up the activities pamphlet once again and glancing through it decided that the afternoon art class might be just the thing to distract you from the arrogant stranger who twice now had intruded on your peaceful vacation. Heading off back down to the lobby, you stopped by the cafe for a brownie and a coffee before asking for directions to the art class. Being told how to get there by the polite guy behind the counter, you paid for your items, left a generous tip and headed off towards your next adventure.

Talking to Annie and discovering that the flowers had indeed been delivered to the correct room, Brock sat in his office trying to figure out what miscommunication had occurred this time round. Having watched you grow up and mature through the years as you visited the park, first with your parents and then sometimes on your own, he knew you to be a kind and thoughtful soul so he had to figure in the half day that you had been here you couldn't have that many people to apologize to.

Ringing through to reception, he inquired as to what the occupant of room 37 was up to, but when no one was able to shed any light on the matter, he figured he would simply have to allow the whims of fate to hopefully bring you back to his presence. Finding himself particularly frustrated at the events taking place around him with little to no control over them, he headed off to the lodge's gym to try and work off some of the tension making itself at home in his muscles. Of course he could use the equipment in his own quarters, but his parents had taught him that not only should he know how everything around the lodge worked, he should also keep himself in the trenches and thereby better understand what their guests and visitors needed and thus help cultivate an all-round better vacation experience.

Heading off to the gym fifteen minutes later, all thought of working out was pushed from his mind however as he passed the art room and got an eyeful of the exhibition within. Sure he couldn't see much of the naked male model below the assembled easels, but he could clearly make out Missy's ethereal form sitting on the far left gazing at the man before her as her hand moved back and forth across the canvas. Remembering his parents words and seeing an opportunity to spend some extra time with you, he gave up on his workout, moved away from the door and taking out his phone, dialed Elaine and told her of a change of plan for the art class. Then heading to the changing rooms, he stripped down, slipped on an available robe and waited for Julius to be dismissed.

Sitting around and fine tuning the drawing you were working on while the instructor Elaine explained that another model would be taking over, you were the only one shocked when a new guy took the podium and removed his hooded robe to reveal the stranger you had dumped into the river that morning. Choking on the couch that caught in your throat, your cheeks heated up as your eyes focused in on his package and he winked over at you when his eyes followed your gaze. Giving a jerk of his hips that he was certain you had seen by the way the pencil dropped from your hand and how flustered you had become, he smiled to himself as he got comfortable and continued to be the bane of your existence for the next hour until Elaine called time on the class. Removing your drawings and ducking out quickly from the room, you made for the nearest exit and breathed in some lungfuls of much needed air. Meanwhile back in the art room as Brock thanked Elaine and Julius for letting him sit in, he now took pleasure in the fact that he clearly had an effect on you.

Heading off back to your room when your breathing was once again under control, you tried to figure out how this stranger, whose name you didn't even know, always showed up when you were trying to forget about him. Deciding now that the remainder of your evening was a total bust, you headed to the dining room for dinner before retiring to bed with a good book. Ordering the pasta and following Russell, the maitre d to a table by the window, you then ordered a delicious red wine and set your sights on the evening view beyond the glass. Watching families taking photos, couples and strangers getting to know each other around a campfire and children running around being children, you were pulled out of this wonderland when a waitress appeared with your wine.

Meanwhile, walking into the dining room to check on things as he liked to do, Brock caught Jennifer leaving your table and the view that greeted him took his breath away and tightened his pants. Discreetly bringing your glass to your nose and inhaling the pleasant aroma, you sniffed a few more times, taking longer each round. Finally pressing your lips to the glass, you took a sip and allowed the rich bouquet to settle gently in your mouth. Holding it carefully on your tongue as the flavor assaulted your taste buds, you were so wrapped up in your own little world, you had no idea that your actions were being so closely observed by someone who couldn't help but wonder how it would look and feel to have you pleasure his cock the way you did the wine. At last coming out of his fantasy as you swallowed the liquid inhabiting your mouth, Brock excused himself from Russell's presence and headed off back to his quarters, vowing one day soon to recreate the vision he had just experienced.

Thanking Jennifer once she delivered your meal, you tucked into the delicious spaghetti not knowing that your earlier actions had been interpreted as a glorified sex act. Still eating in peace and enjoying every single bite, you headed back to your room afterwards and curling up with the latest romance novel, lost yourself for a few blissful hours in its pages before laying down in bed and closing your eyes. Hoping that tomorrow would prove a more relaxing day, you had no idea as you drifted off towards sleep that somewhere under the same stars and roof as you, a dark haired, hazel eyed walking god was currently using his hand to relieve the tension a day in your orbit had fostered within him.

Waking the next morning feeling fully rested, you showered, dressed and decided to forego breakfast in favor of a little kayaking. Figuring that no strangers could upset your day out on the water, things took a quick nose-dive when you arrived at the kiosk to discover your mystery stalker doing sit-ups on the ground a few feet away. Deciding you were sick and tired of this complete arse ruining what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, you swiftly headed back to the main lodge and stood in line at reception to be assisted. Finally approaching Annie, you explained to her that while it was not your intention to cause trouble, a guest was causing you to feel very uncomfortable and you would appreciate it if management would do something about it. Assuring you that the matter would be dealt with, you told her you would be in your room awaiting their response. Half an hour later however everything you thought you knew evaporated like steam when you opened your door to discover your strange stalker standing before you.

"Hello Missy, I heard you were looking for me. Mind if I come in?" he asked with a little smirk, though he made no attempt to move forward.

Standing looking at him with your hand on the door, you quickly found your voice as your senses returned to you. "Yes I do mind actually. You have spent the last twenty-four hours showing up everywhere I've been and as a result I have reported you to management. Now, I don't know how you got my name or what made you think I asked to see you, but it would be best if you left before the manager arrives."

"Well in that case, how about I do you one better and get the owner?" he asked before reaching out his hand to you. "Brock Rumlow at your service. You really don't remember me?" he asked with slight disappointment evident in his voice.

Flitting your gaze back and forth between his face and his outstretched hand, the cogs began turning in your mind and a vision appeared before your eyes of you as a child playing on the swings with a boy a few years older than you. Reaching out your hand to shake his, your voice began working again as you asked him for identification before stepping aside to grant him entry.

Closing the door behind him as he walked over to the couch and made himself at home, a thousand questions assaulted your brain, but you figured the best course of action was to order something to calm your nerves before dealing with the hunk of muscle before you. Waiting for the drinks to arrive, you took a seat on one of the chairs opposite and played with the hem of your top while Brock occupied himself with admiring just how flustered his presence made you.

Eventually getting up to answer the knock at the door, he thanked the waiter and poured each of you a glass of wine before offering you yours. "Here cricket, this should help with those pesky nerves." he grinned before sitting back down on the couch.

Taking a huge gulp from the glass, you then set it down on the table before facing him. "I wouldn't be nervous if you didn't keep stalking me. And stop calling me cricket." you snapped.

"You never had a problem with it when we were children." he interrupted. " What's happened Missy? Where's that carefree, nature loving girl who stole my heart when I was twelve years old?" he asked, now moving closer to you.

Looking up at him as the sands of time shifted and took you back to that memory, you smiled slightly at the image of that tender boy who had shown you so many wonderful sights around the park. Pulling yourself back to the present and the now grown up adult in front of you, you no longer saw the stranger who was out to ruin your vacation. "I guess she just needed someone to show her the way back." you answered shyly as you topped up your glass and sat down beside him on the couch.

Catching up on all the things that had happened in your lives through the intervening years, two bottles of wine later found you and Brock stretched out on your bed talking through why both of you were still single. Explaining that he couldn't find anyone to capture his attention or understand his love of nature, you were shocked to realize that you too had a similar experience.

Opening your eyes a few hours later to discover you had fallen asleep on your bed in Brock's arms, you thought once more of the fun you had as children and the feelings that friendship had nurtured within you. Sure you would never admit as much to him, but the love he had for nature and the care and generosity he showed to everyone around him were qualities you had looked for in potential boyfriends. Looking at his sleeping form, you had to wonder if fate was playing a hand in your love life right now but swiftly shoved that thought aside when a pair of hazel eyes met yours and a hand reached up to cup your cheek.

"Hey there Missy, you're a sight to wake up to." his groggy voice greeted and you couldn't help the giggle that left your lips as he pulled you closer and threw his leg across yours. Closing his eyes once again as you snuggled into his strong chest and warm embrace you drifted off once more wondering how a childhood acquaintance could stir such feelings in you all these years later.

Finding yourself jolted awake an hour later, Brock once more showed you all his favorite parts of the park before dragging your tired body back to his rooms and ordering up some dinner. Watching you eat while you told him more about your job and your deep seated desire to leave the city, he couldn't help himself when you raised your glass to have a sip of wine. Telling you of the vision he had the evening before as you sat in the dining room, you gulped down the beverage as your eyes moved along his body and your mind traveled places it hadn't been in a really long time.

Continuing on with your meal as Brock dropped hint after hint about what he'd like to do to you, you gave as good as you got even though your panties gave away the fact that he was clearly winning. Finally finishing up your meal, Brock rose from the table and holding out his hand to you, asked if he could show you the other place that owned his heart. Agreeing apprehensively as you expected him to lead you to his bedroom, you were both shocked and surprised when he opened a hidden door and led you into the most glorious personal library you had ever seen. Covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves with double doors leading out to a balcony he conveniently told you connected to his bedroom, the two comfy chairs by the fire along with the beautiful mahogany table completed the look.

Taking your hand and leading you further inside, your eyes scanned every inch of the room as his hands and lips began roaming over your delicate skin. Moving up towards your ear as your head fell back against his shoulder, the words whispered by his glorious lips sent a shiver down your spine. "Tell me to stop Missy or I'll make you mine forever."

Thus far too lost in the majestic splendor all around you to take much notice of the look of pure adoration Brock was sending your way, Missy now turned around in his arms to face the man who was slowly working his way into her heart. "I . . . I can't Brock. This vacation was meant to be about me finding time to relax and rediscovering what was missing in my life." you breathed out as his lips and hands continued to play your body as if they'd known it all your life.

"I think we've both discovered what's been missing in our lives, cricket." he whispered, though the acoustics in the room allowed you to hear every word perfectly. "Let me worship you the way you deserve and if I fail to rock your word, you can go back to the city and forget this ever happened."

"And otherwise?" you questioned, wondering where his thoughts were leading him.

"If I deliver," he smirked, "you come live out here with me. We're not far from the city anyway, you said you hate it there and it sounds like your career allows you to work from anywhere." he reasoned

Thinking over this proposal you had to admit, you were intrigued. Living in nature and working away from the city sounded like a dream, but to also have someone like Brock dangled in front of you as a potential lover, now that just seemed like icing on your cake. Trying to think as his fingers began worming their way under your top, your breath hitched and all coherent thought left you as Brock zeroed in on your tits.

"Of yeah." you breathed out as his fingers kneaded your bra-covered mounds and his lips made themselves in the sweet juncture between your neck and shoulder. "That feels so good. Please don't stop." you moaned out as your fingers found their way into his hair.

Pulling back slightly to work your top off your body, it was now his turn to moan at the glorious sight standing before him. With two perky mounds delicately wrapped in midnight blue lace, he couldn't help but give voice to that old saying. "You know, it's been said when a lady wears lingerie this sexy, she expects it to be seen."

Giggling at this remark as his hands moved down to cup your ass, you leaned forward and taking his lower lip between your teeth, bit it gently before moving your hands along his t-shirt covered abs. Feeling the chiseled structure beneath your fingers, Brock looked amused as your brow furrowed while you thought about what you wanted to do next. Leaning forward to place his forehead against yours, Brock didn't help all that much as he tried to egg you on. "Go do it Missy, you know you want to."

Moving your hands once more along his stomach, you winked up at him before placing your hands in front of his throat and successfully ripping his t-shirt down the front. Squealing as this shocked Adonis picked you up and laid you on the rug in front of the fire, it was now your turn to be surprised as his lips descended on your left breast and his hand grabbed hold of the right. Moaning and writhing beneath him as his own incoherent babbling joined you, all sound was replaced with incessant giggling as he began rubbing his stubbled face along your body. Continuing until you were a laughing, tear stained mess, Brock then moved back up your body to worship your breasts the other way but this time his free hand began to work on your jeans. Moving your hands to help him out, he bit into your flesh and when you yelped and slapped his arm playfully, he grabbed hold of your jeans and pulled them apart.

Now kissing and licking all over your panties, he couldn't hide the smirk at the noticeable moisture present there and as his tongue worked you closer and closer to the edge, you screamed to the high heavens when he moved back abruptly and pulled you from the floor. "Blast it Brock, what are you doing? I didn't tell you to stop."

"I know Missy, but maybe you'd treat me to a dance before I ruin you forever." he said as he walked away towards a sound system you only now just noticed.

"No no no . . . You can't. Brock. Do me." Missy whined as he paused to glance over his shoulder to gaze on your near naked form.

"Oh my sweet cricket, how could I deny you anything?" he asked and you would later suspect that all he had been waiting for was you to give in to your desires. Walking back towards you, he lifted you up and this time placing you on the table, began rubbing his jean-clad crotch against your panties. Watching you lose yourself all over again, you decided you had enough however when he leaned forward and kissed your lips before leaning up on his elbows and telling you it was getting late. Finding the same strength you had the previous day, you reached forward and swiftly undoing his belt, successfully maneuvered his jeans and boxers down his legs before reaching out to grasp his semi-hard dumbstick. Hissing as your fingers closed around his shaft, you swatted his hands away as you sat up and began running your hand along his member while it was now his turn to moan above you.

"Oh fuck cricket. Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked as you flicked your wrist before moving down to cup his balls.

Giving a squeeze as you ran your tongue along his neck, your hand returned to his cock as your lips settled by his ear. "Wouldn't you like to know. Now, do you know what to do with that thing or would you like me to show you?"

Laughing that he was getting to see more of that fire he so admired about you, he swiftly removed your panties and running his fingers through your folds, was not at all surprised to find them and you were utterly soaked. Replacing those same fingers with his cock, he moved it back and forth along your pussy a couple of times before plunging it and his fingers into your flower and mouth. Smirking at you as you just lay there, breathing through your nose as he used you how he saw fit, you now knew how it felt to be stuffed to the point of pain and it felt good. Finally removing his fingers from your mouth, you gave voice to the pleasure he was pulling from you as he flipped you over and held your legs as his plunging rod pushed you nearer and nearer to that glorious finish you knew was just within reach. Instinctively knowing you needed a little more, he first decided to have a bit more fun.

"You feel that Missy? Feel what you do to me? Is this what you pictured yesterday as you sat in class ogling my package?"

Biting down on your lip both to keep from crying out at the building pressure and to not answer his question, you stopped being capable of much when he wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled you almost off the the table and held your waist with one hand while his hips pistoned into you at a faster pace. Now grasping the table as best you could while chanting his name over and over and over again, you were shocked that you didn't pass out when his fingers connected with your clit and your walls clamped around him as a powerful orgasm flowed through you.

Whimpering from over-stimulation as he continued to chase his own release, you came once more before you realized Brock still hadn't finished. Begging now for him to stop, he promised you could give him one more, which is exactly what you did as his balls clenched, his thrusts became erratic and you both came to the feeling of warm streams hitting your walls while your release gushed around his still twitching phallus. Easing himself out of your still trembling flower, he picked you up bridal style and carrying you gently to the bedroom, continued into the attached bathroom and turning on the shower, proceeded to wash you both before tenderly laying you down on what felt like a bed of clouds. Whispering words of love as he held you close, you drifted off to sleep in the arms of your childhood friend who years later reminded you that the dreams we dream as kids sometimes do come true.

Tagging: @saiyanprincessswanie

[mintseesaw]

Aurora | 4

Pairing: general!jungkook x reader!princess x prince!jimin Genre: angst, fluff, historical au, forbidden love affair au Word count: 8.3k Warnings: themes of abduction and insurgence, imposing abortion as a punishment, story setting is heavily patriarchal // rating: 18+

translations of unfamiliar words will be provided below ^^

*unedited

masterlist

Previously...

“Did you miss me, Princess ________?” You heard him greet from behind. The sultry yet sweet tone of his voice, compelling you to face him as if your unwillingness to meet him so suddenly wasn’t there, anymore.

With a graceful turn, your solicitous expression caused by your unintended tryst last night gone in a flash tipping your chin forward to display a false confidence in front of the prince.

The amusement on his face widens, taking notice of the exceptional glow radiating from the princess. Have you been dolling yourself up just for him? The certain strangeness in the dark of your orbs igniting fire in him before he blinks and it vanishes, gone without a trace of acknowledgement from the weight of your stare.

He crosses the offending distance, smiling sweetly before he took hold of your hand and kisses your knuckles with an ardent gaze clashing against yours that harbor the coldness he had grown accustomed with.

“My lord,” an old man hurriedly attended to Jungkook just as he took an empty table without a word. Must be the owner of the stall. Uttering his request, the owner bobbed his head low before vanishing from his line of vision.

He was supposedly going to have breakfast with you after having tediously cooked the dishes, himself. The lack of light in your eyes and your dead enthusiasm had spoiled his appetite, and severely wounded his soul. Nothing could probably ease the ache sitting beneath his ribcage. Not when the intimacy he shared with you the night before and your cold treatment of him earlier painfully reverberated in his head like a roaring thunder in the sky.

You, giving him mixed signals, confused the hell out of his weak, young heart. 

What am I supposed to do with you, Jagiya?

Perhaps, it was the uncertainty that was instigated by your emotions. That must have been the only reason.

Shortly after, the old man came back with an empty cup, pouring it full with rice wine from the bronze pitcher he brought with him. Jungkook mumbled an audible thanks before chugging down the alcohol like an angry man on his bad day.

“This isn’t something we both have a choice of.”

Your voice echoes in his head. A sweet, delicate voice that could easily slice his heart into two with your mere heartless words. A smirk made its way on his face, despite the amusement never reaching up his eyes.

There is nothing left to decide on because you’ll be with him in the end. He wouldn’t leave you, again. He wouldn’t lose his only chance he has to claim you as rightfully his. When he almost lost you back in the days you were young, right in his arms, before his eyes— it was the day he promised to show you what his heart truly desires. Whatever the cost may be.

He had never been that frantic in his life. Not even when he saw with his own eyes the deep cut in his arm gushing too much blood when he was young. Not when two poisonous arrows almost killed him in the battlefield.

When he stripped the covering off of the suspicious cart in search of any sign of you, the last thing he was expecting to see was your unconscious body, with your restrained arms and a piece of cloth stuffed in your mouth. With your aristocratic braids gone, he couldn’t see much of your face as your hair hung loose covering half of your face as your body lied down in a foetal position, as if you tried to make up with the little space the average sized cart provided which was filled dominantly by materials of what looked like rolls of linens of various colors.

He knew it was you.

Despite the filth covering your attire down to the skin of your bare hands, and your seemingly thinner frame, the mere sight of the body screams everything about you.

At the time, his younger self was almost sure he was going to explode at any moment from the excruciating constriction in his chest.

His eyes were livid while they scanned over the blood bathed bodies scattered around the cart that were slain by the sharp edges of his sword, looking for another sign of danger. When he was certain that none of the rebels on the ground were moving, he dropped his weapon.

“Princess!” He calls out, his bloody hands leaving imprints of the dirt-covered article of your hanbok as he shook your shoulders none too gently, desperate to wake you.

To no avail, you remain unconscious. The sight of you in a devastating state dreaded him. His younger self thought his world right there and then was collapsing, his surroundings slowing down and his gaze shrinking and focusing into you alone. Not even a pittance of fear shook him despite killing a group of rebels, none of the fact that he stood there alone fighting for his life did. None. Not until he pulled the bamboo mat off of the cart.

Where the fuck is that old man?

It’s been hours since Lord Min suddenly came up to his residence, forcing him out of his slumber at dawn without telling him the purpose of his abrupt disturbance.

When the scholar said he found another lead, Jungkook only took it lightly—not knowing it would turn out to be the key to finally locate you.

Lord Min led him to a trail behind a group of merchants who were supposed to exchange goods on the capital’s port with Mongolian merchants. When the suspicious group split into two directions— it left him and the scholar no option but to part ways as well. However, Jungkook insisted on following the merchants who particularly brought their supposed cart of goods.

As soon as he took his outer layer of robe to cover it on your shivering body, the morning breeze hits him mercilessly. Discreetly, he gathers you in his arms. As he sets you on his lap on the ground, he removes the cloth in your mouth, while pressing a trembling hand on your chest to feel your heartbeat.

“Your Highness,” he tried once more when he sensed a faint beating against your chest. His hands shuffle to remove the tie around your wrists.

“Come on… open your eyes for me, Princess.” He whispered desperately, tears freely rolling down on his cheeks without him ever noticing.

He gasped when he caught the slightest bit of movement from you. He thought he might have been hallucinating out of his desperation to see you alive. But then, you proved him wrong as your heavy eyelids slowly peeled open, before they closed shut, again.

“Your Highness! Please… do you hear me? Can you open your eyes again?”

You did, and with your slightly parted mouth, you drew a breath in heavily.

“W-Who are you?” you managed to rasp, almost inaudibly. However, he was too close not to miss what you said. Too close to be deemed righteous around the lady he desires. He didn’t care, because your cold body needed as much as heat from him. Nothing else mattered more to him than to save your life.

“It’s me, Jungkook. I am Prince Taehyung’s friend—“

“I-I… must… be dreaming,” you croaked in between dry, painful coughs.

“You’re not dreaming. Please, don’t talk. It's hurting you.” He chokes back a sob.

“Is this real? You finally noticed me,” you pause, only to breathe through your mouth once more. “I’m… tired, I want to rest,” you say without opening your eyes. But the moisture pooling out of your eyes meant one thing to him. You’ve been suffering from immense pain.

“No, no, no. Please, stay with me. Lord Min is coming to get us. He’ll be here soon,” he coos, not caring how he sounded a little more desperate, taking your cold hands up in his mouth to warm them up.

Jungkook continuously rocked your shivering body back and forth on his lap, never removing his eyes on you. He wanted to embrace you tight, cover you with his body to protect you from the horrible cold of the morning weather but he was afraid he would crush you.

He waited, waited and helplessly waited. Lord Min would come find him. That was what he reminded Jungkook as before they parted ways in the woods.

It was him and Lord Min who found you, even when the King had ordered a mass search for his missing daughter.

---

Although your disappearance was largely perceived as abduction, neither evidence nor eye witness was found to support the claim, hence stirring the urge to find you, himself. Roughly 10 days after you were last seen, not even a single trace of your whereabouts had been identified. Something was definitely off with the way the case was being handled. The lack of progress on the investigation drove the King in extreme desperation as well as the court in anguish due to the King’s adverse political decisions.

In spite of the rumors of insurgence spreading like a common gossip story in the villages surrounding the capital, the rumors fall on deaf ears in the court on the possibility that your disappearance was plotted by the rebel forces. As if the missing person was not a princess whom the rebels could use as a pawn to bend the King on his knees.

Jungkook spent most of his days in the capital, inside the gambling houses, pretending to play with men of all sorts of class. On some days, he visited the courtesan’s house capital marketplace under the disguise of an interested guest due to the rumors that some gisaengs, at the time, were avid followers of the insurgence. At nights, he pieced together the collective stories he tediously gathered during the day.

One day, he decided to make progress on his investigation, spying on a group of merchants trading with Jurchen merchants who were pretending under the guise of Mongolian heritage. It was Mina, a gisaeng whom he somehow befriended when his visits at the courtesan’s house had frequented, who shared her discovery of a Mongolian merchant accidentally revealing his identity when he fluently spoke a dialect she distinguished as her mother tongue since she was a Jurchen-born immigrant.

He didn’t find any suspicious or illegal goods being traded on the port nor could he confirm the real heritage of the merchants. However, on his way back to the capital, he was cornered by a man he recognized as one of the merchants in the port.

To his surprise, the merchant was strangely skilled enough to defeat him in a fight— scoring a severe cut on Jungkook’s side. He didn’t think the merchant would be merciful enough to let him live when Jungkook fell to the ground after what seemed like several minutes of intense sword-to-sword combat. Strangely enough, the merchant was forgiving and instead of ending the life out of him, the merchant took his time to scrutinize every item inside the satchel Jungkook brought with him. By then, he had already sensed that the man was anything but a mere trader.

Breathing heavily, he pressed his hand hard to his bloody waist as he watches the merchant curiously unfold a piece of hanji. It was the trade map he had drawn a few days ago, alongside the location where the camp can be found.

Jungkook knew it was over for him as he saw a glint of recognition in the eyes of the merchant.

After what seemed to be a long moment of silence, the merchant looks at him. “What is this map for?”

Jungkook laughed dryly and as his shoulders shook a little, a surge of pain shot in his core. He winces as the sensation doubled over his effort to make fun of the act the merchant was pulling in front of him.

“Are you one of them?”

If the merchant understood what he meant, he simply chose to ignore it. “I’m asking you a question, kid.”

“You’re one of them, are you not? I’m most certain you know what that map is.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth as the pain on his side intensified, spreading like a magma on his midriff.

By now, the merchant’s focus zeroed in on him. “You know about the camp? Who do you work for, kid?” The merchant interrogates, further. Though the man remained passive, Jungkook found it odd to notice the slightest bit of awe in the eyes of the strange man. 

“You tell me, you act like you know my every activity.”

The merchant only raised an eyebrow. “Well, here’s the truth. I’m not a rebel. I’m not a merchant, either. I will help you if you tell me what you have gotten about the camp so far.”

Jungkook darted a glare at him. “As you can see, I’m heavily wounded, literally. You think I still care?”

“You’ll live,” the merchant dismisses nonchalantly, which made Jungkook scoff in disbelief.

“Look kid, I’m not going to kill you. But in exchange for your life, you’ll help me follow the movement.”

“It’s not like you gave me an option to decline.” Jungkook weakly contended.

The merchant effortlessly helped him up from the ground, “Come on, my grandfather is a physician. He’ll tend to your wound.”

Jungkook learned that the merchant who introduced himself as Lord Min turned out to be a scholar. He was writing a case relative to the alleged insurgence centering mostly in poor villages in the capital. Although he didn’t fully trust the scholar, sparing Jungkook his life was enough reason for him to disclose the true nature of his investigation to the scholar who was, at the time, penning colloquial stories about the insurgence.

Lord Min paused his scribbling, throwing a look of surprise at his new-found friend. “Did I hear you right? You believed the princess was abducted by the rebels?”

Jungkook only shrugged, already concluding what the scholar would say next. “It’s not the first time someone thought I was going crazy for telling them that.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I have been following the movement for months now,” Lord Min asserted, which prompted Jungkook to look back at him. “And since I heard about the sudden disappearance of the princess, it was the only theory I could come up with. Unless…” Lord Min trailed, taking notice of the interest glinting in Jungkook’s eyes.

“Unless?” Jungkook echoed expectantly.

Lord Min pretended to be in deep thought before adding up, “There is a lover involved.”

In disbelief, Jungkook threw a scornful look at him. “There’s no man in her life, I’m sure of that.” He remarked with conviction, folding his arms in his chest.

To his surprise, Lord Min hollered into fits of laughter, only severing the look of disdain on Jungkook’s expression. “For a young soldier like you, you seemed to be a little more concerned about the princess.” The older man remarked, meaningfully.

---

“Isn’t it too early to be drinking on your own, kid?” Taunts a voice, forcing him out of his reverie. With a lift of his head, his eyes landed on a commoner seemingly older than him adorned in a daffodil shade of a simple robe. Half of the man’s face was covered in conical shaped hat and just as the man tipped it high with his fingers, Jungkook immediately recognized the person standing across his table.

Your breath hitches on your throat as the warmth of his mouth sends tingles straight through your veins. With a subtle tug of your hand from his hold, the prince almost didn’t take your silent plea, not without his companion guard clearing their throat that snapped him out of daze.

If there’s particularly one thing that stood out to him aside from his aristocratic, --almost polished physical features, it was his forthright admission of his feelings on you. The was the he had made a move in regards to feelings. You appreciate the way he had not once tried to break into your boundaries for his satisfaction.

After what had happened, the least person you expected to see is him. The only man who had the guts to be with you despite the rumors that tainted your reputation. Guilt thrums heavily through your veins more than the throbbing of your muscles in your body.

Jimin deserves someone far better than what you can offer. Not with your heart, and most definitely not with your broken chastity.

“Your Excellency,” you greeted, tilting your head low in a subtle bow. Your eyes stayed firm on the ground, refusing to return his stare as you murmur, “I trust your journey has not been too much for you?”

You missed the way your concern roused a smile up on his flawless face or you would have flushed right away. “It was as expected. I am an impatient man, but it was worth the trouble now that my reward is standing in front of me.”

Taken aback at this teasing remark, your mouth unconsciously parted. You didn’t have the time to retract from the proximity he initiated just as he extended his arm, his palm meeting one of your cheeks as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. The pad of his thumb feather lightly caresses the softness of your skin there.

The abruptness of his move left you immobile for a moment, the heat coming from his hand involuntarily eliciting goosebumps to come out on your covered arms.

“Have you been well, little flower? I couldn’t be at peace knowing your health is not in the best condition. I was a thread of breath away from forcing my way into your quarters just to check on you myself, but you may never forgive me for if I ever disrespect your privacy.”

“There’s nothing to worry of. Mayhaps... my body has not been reacting too kindly to the cold weather. I had since taken herbal teas to help me recover.” The lie glided smoothly out of your tongue, piercing your lower lip with your teeth to prevent yourself from throwing up out of disgust.

The way his head bobs up lightly made you believe he bought your excuse. “Very well. Will you allow me to accompany you?” He whispers, as if it’s possible to turn down a powerful man like him. 

“Of course, Your Excellency.” The smile you plastered on your face was enough to conceal your fears for now.

At your answer, the court ladies immediately hurried towards the recreational area, pulling the wooden chairs for you and the prince to sit on.

You take the opportunity to pull back from his touch as an excuse to occupy one of the chairs. 

Mimicking your move, he settled on a seat, one that was the closest to yours. He then motions a dismissive wave on the watchful eyes of his guards, giving him and the rest of the court ladies a silent order to leave you two alone. With a bow, everyone retreated back down onto the ground, obediently.

As he turns his attention back at you, he asks, “Do you like to tease me, Princess?”

“W-What do you mean?” Your stutter evoked a subtle grin to reappear on the corners of his mouth. While your insides are a mess, the delight shining in his eyes lets you know he couldn’t see right through your miserable heart.

The subtle smile on the corners of his mouth stretches wider, “You know I like it when you call me by my name.”

His teasing once again scores a twin stain on your cheeks. Although you remain placid with his remark, he didn’t miss the immediate rush of blood coloring your face that, in return, earned a smirk from him.

Blinking, you straightened your back. “Why are you not appropriately dressed for the season, Your Excellency?”

Prince Jimin beamed in your attempt of changing the subject, eyes glimmering in glee. “My attire is fine. Mayhaps, if you are concerned, I can put on another layer of thick robe.”

Quickly, you shake your head. “There’s no need for such if you don’t feel like the weather is too much for you. Winter has just begun and only a few weeks more before the weather becomes unbearable, especially for envoys like yourself.”

“I can only imagine how our departure would be like.”

“You chose to come to the kingdom during the winter. Is there something that’s urgent on your purpose not to delay it until the weather has calmed down?”

”The only urgent thing I found was to see you. Have I not made it clear from the beginning?”

You purse your lips, afraid to voice out your thoughts. On the other hand, Jimin was way too deep in the subject to notice the slightest bit of trouble reflecting in your eyes.

“I didn’t think any woman would stir my interest after having my heart broken when I was young. You know, my brother—the Emperor gifted me a marriage in exchange for my service in the military. I was supposed to leave the palace for a while to visit my bride. The Emperor halted my plan only to have me represent him on his behalf during the coronation of Queen Soheon. If I didn’t come here, I would have been married by now.”

Burying your trembling hands on your lap, you distracted yourself with the beauty of the winter blooms on the pond, swallowing the gasp that threatened to spill as an involuntary reaction. His revelation left a lasting impact on you. In your head, you could hear yourself screaming the truth in front of him. He shouldn’t be this infatuated over you.

“Perhaps, you are well enough to company out of the palace? You still owe me a tour to the capital.” The prince posits all too suddenly.

Swiftly, he stood up and offered a helping hand in front of you. The sun is barely out, concealed with the thick layers of clouds to which is a great opportunity to wander around in the marketplace. Your false confidence slowly faltering as seconds turn to minutes with his gaze sweeping on your whole length. You accepted his hand, granting his wish. It was the least you could do to make up for him travelling a thousand miles to see you.

The following day, an event is set to be held in Changdeok to pay tribute for army’s victory in defeating the rebel forces in one of the borders in Joseon. Hours earlier than the customary outset in the palace, the finishing touches on the day’s festivities have already been wrapped up by the court ladies even before the sun rises on the east.

Historically, the day held no significance to the royal court nor to any prominent military figure in the nation. However, some weeks prior to the present day, the king received a letter from the young general relative to the army’s arrival to the capital, hence, the sudden establishment of a dogam to organize a jinchan for the returning heroes from the northern border.

With the anticipated attendance of the royal family in the morning banquet, you were forced to rise at dawn to prepare for your participation for the festivity.

Shortly after the attendants have finished braiding your hair, your morning tea was served just before you are set to leave your quarters.

“There will be two more banquets after the event in the morning, Your Highness.” Hyowon, one of the court ladies attending to your daily nourishment answers when you absentmindedly voiced out your thought as she pours a tea on your cup.

Fortunately, you were not foolish enough to utter the name of the man who’s been haunting your dreams since time immemorial. She may only be a distant relative of Jungkook, but the same blood runs thick in their veins and you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of anyone, much less to anyone related to him.

You nodded, taking your cup and hold it up to your lips.

Traditionally, the nighttime festivity is said to be the most anticipated from all sorts of celebrations as the audience who are commonly from noble descent look forward on the performances of high-class entertainers. Jungkook is obligated to attend all the events for the day as one of the honorary guests of the jinchan.  

The supposed banquet is going to be your first attendance in a political gathering ever since you were given the title of a gongju on your seventh birthday. The thought was making you uneasy in some way in case something unforeseen transpires during the celebration, that it would be denunciated by the curse you were forced to live with in your lifetime. However, the thought of him present in the same room with you brings more in disarray. 

A court lady from the dogam came to escort you to the reception afterwards. And not long after the arrival of Queen, the massive doors of the dining hall flew opened, revealing the King as he enter the premises.

Perhaps, you would still have had a clear view on whole expanse of the dining hall if not for the ivory article covering the totality of the platform where you and the rest of the royal palace women.

Meals have been simultaneously served just as the King had announced the ceremonial toast indicating the beginning of the celebration. An instrumental piece played by the musicians proceeded after, keeping the atmosphere pleasantly solemn despite the audible chatters in the hall.

From your seat, you could only see the king’s back as he led the banquet—sitting at the head of the table while the rest of the state and military officials sat in two long sets of vertically-arranged sobans. Despite the barrier, it was not difficult for you to locate where the man of your thoughts was settled at just by the mere sight of his silhouette. There he was beside Prince Taehyung, seemingly fascinated with the performances on the center if not occupied with something Prince Taehyung was telling him.

You could never change the way you treated him so poorly, yesterday. Your hostility was uncalled for, but perhaps, it was enough to displease him enough to lose his interest in you.

“You are not eating your meal, Gongju. Are the dishes not to your liking?” Princess Consort Sooyoung asks. Unlike you, your sister-in-law seems to enjoy the sumptuous serving on the soban, as opposed to your lack of enthusiasm on the food.

“It’s not that. Perhaps, it was too early for me to consume anything solid after I had my morning the tea.”

You drag your hand up on the table, picking up the pair of chopsticks to nestle them in between your fingers. To ease her worry, you attempted to touch the sweet flavored delicacy among the servings.

The banquet progressed rather slowly. As hours passed by, your legs grew numb from the lack of physical movement. It didn’t help that the remnants of muscle aches from your intimacy with Jungkook still lingers. Your sister-in-law caught the discomfort in your expression.

“Gongju,” Princess Consort Sooyoung calls for your attention, once more.

Tearing your gaze away from Jungkook, you tilt your head on the side to meet her solicitous eyes.

“Is your breathing alright? I noticed your heaving has frequented.”

“Uhh...I’m alright, Bubuin.” You falter. Instinctively, your eyes flew back to where he was situated. Your sister-in-law followed the trail of your gaze, and it was only then that she had pieced together the reason.

She chuckles softly, “I thought you were having difficulty with your breathing.”

Your face incredibly flushed with her words.

She didn’t attempt to speak to you after that, seemingly distracted in one of the ceremonial performances of the banquet.

Three hours later, the first phase of the jinchan had finally come to conclude to your relief.

When it was your turn to be escorted out of the hall, you couldn’t help but skim your eyes across the expansive lot. Of course, the chances of running into him are very slim to none. Not only that he was in a rush to leave the reception, but he would also take the path on the west out of the palace while you would take the opposite direction to go back to your quarters.

You thought wrong. Because the moment you arrive at the entrance of the Gyeongbok, you catch on the back of his frame on the small stretch between the library and the tall concrete wall.

Your heart instantly jumped at the mere sight of him adorned on the same uniform he wore the day before. But something didn’t make sense. What is he doing in the main palace—hiding there right after the banquet has ended?

The court lady remained still behind you as you tried to build up the courage to approach him. Perhaps, apologize for your behavior yesterday. But then as he shifted on his feet, you caught a glimpse of a hanbok across him— appearing nothing like the clothing of any man. A lady.

“You have the freedom to choose any woman in your life.”

Your own words hurriedly came rushing back on you, nearly losing your footing when the weight on your chest grew heavier. You couldn’t breathe.

“Princess—” you jumped at the sound of a low baritone voice from behind, the same voice you’ve known by heart since you were little. 

Sheepishly, you turned to face your brother, his forehead crumpled causing his eyebrows to meet into a line.

“You looked like you’ve seen an apparition,” Prince Taehyung jests, with his face remaining passive without a trace of playfulness despite his obvious teasing.

That’s because you did! You seethed, internally. With an ugly emotion slowly seeping through your veins, you find it difficult to display indifference as if something—someone was not putting you in an emotional distress.

“Your Excellency,” you greeted half-heartedly.

“You are aware about the luncheon tomorrow, right? I am expecting you in my courtyard, little flower.”

“Of course,” You briefly answered. His face finally stretched into a grin, ruffling your neatly braided hair before bidding a farewell.

When you spun back to peer at the spot where Jungkook and his female companion were standing— nothing. No one was there anymore. Jungkook is gone, and so is the lady he was with.

The scene remained etched in your brain the rest of your day. Being unable to stay still in the confines of your quarters, you decided to do readings in in the library.

You were alone, just like what you have asked to your attendants, with the exception of a guard outside. Shortly after going through the shelves in the House of Yi section, you once again stumbled upon a book of biographical sketches after secretly reading the book several years ago. The sight of it alone refreshes your memory of the things you have discovered written in the pages of the books—specifically about Princess Moyoung, your grandfather’s eldest sister who slowly died in the hands of her husband who was born from a fourth class family.

It was said to be the matter that pressured the next royal generations to marry off any king’s daughter to a yangban which was prohibited prior to the princess’ unfortunate case to avoid any arising political conflicts.

It was the same thought that bothered you even when you had gone back in your quarters, bathed, and dressed in your night robe. If your father were still living, would he insist on keeping you in the palace? Or would he allow your supposed matrimonial union with Jimin over one with Jungkook?

However, you understand that either selection is a sacrifice. Life is about losing something to gain something else. You know what will be taken from you if you were to possibly end up with Jungkook. But what could you have possibly gained if you were to lose the man who owns your soul? An extravagant life with the prince?

The ache in your heart has sat idly in your chest since this morning. Your time in the library seemed to have worsened your distress as pain starts to sear in your head.

You stood up. Your attendant mimicking your movement to smoothen the sleeves of your silk robe. “I do not wish to be followed,” you simply say. They crouched their upper body low, conveying a silent message of obedience.

As you pass through the L-shaped corridor leading to the outdoor of your quarters, the rectangular hallway making up the main pathway of the courtyard is eerily quiet and empty. With subtle luminance provided by the light torches on each post you passed by, it was just as exactly the way you expected Gyeongbok during this time around. The reason why you chose to be alone since no one else will run into your way this time of night.

However, at your third turn, just as you enter the borderline of the queen’s courtyard, you hear a distinct sound of door opening from afar followed by the heavy, collective footsteps ringing in the air. As the footsteps grew louder, you hurriedly ran to the side of the greenhouse to hide, afraid of being seen without a companion to look after your care.

“Your Majesty!”

You bite your lip as your heartbeat picks up at the sound of a male voice—assumingly the queen’s eunuch, as if in desperation to stop Her Majesty to wherever she intends to go at this hour.

You didn’t know how long you were hiding there at the side of the greenhouse but it wasn’t long enough for you to be able to hold your breath until the traces of the footsteps were fading.

When any sign of human sound was out of earshot, you finally heave a sigh out of relief, taking a solid peek through the corner of the wooden wall to confirm your guess. Considering the pathway clear and safe from any presence, you cautiously proceed back to your footpath.

Merely focused on either side of your vision, you failed to sense that someone was making their way onto your direction. Their presence became known only when your arm was snatched from behind and a calloused palm right away covered your mouth, losing your chance to call for help. Panic immediately surges through your veins, your shock causing you to freeze momentarily.

Even without having a single look at your perpetrator, the feel of his thick arm around your waist lets you know you don’t stand a chance against their immense built and incredible strength. Just as you recovered from your shock, you frantically squirmed about against their hold but the more you struggle, the tighter their arm gets around your waist, pulling you flushed against their body.

“Why is Lady Yi- being punished?” Demanded Queen Soheon the moment she stepped foot inside the King’s quarters.

King Namjoon sprang up to his feet to meet her half-way, concern stirring immediate in him at the sight of his wife, noting the way her voice unusually croaked and holding such heavy emotion. He silently curses, taking notice how upset she had seemed to be over the scandal the concubine had caused all to herself.

“Sit down, my love. You shouldn’t allow your emotions to run high, it’s not good for your condition.”

Queen Soheon is always calm and graceful no matter how grave the situation is. He had not once witnessed her lose her innate grace ever since he married her, with the exception of the times he was intimate with her.

“Why?” She repeated, her eyes burning with fire.

“My love—”

“Jeonha, please… stop with your sweet filters and answer me why you didn’t stop them from forcing her to drink the medicine?”

He sighs just as he attempted to place her in his embrace. To his dismay, she pulled a good amount of distance between them, clearly setting the line of her anger on the matter, right straight to him.

How can he possibly be sure you would never find this matter out when only a slip of a tongue can give her the idea of what transpired some hours ago.

“You know I cannot disrespect Halma-mama’s power when it comes to the women in the inner court.”

As the Grand Royal Dowager Queen holds the highest rank in the inner court, it would only be necessary to say his grandmother ordered the punishment, when in fact it was never her idea to impose a harsh discipline on the concubine. However, the appeal of the elders in the inner court to decide on the fate of her unlawful conceiving resulted in a consensus decision to abort the unborn child. Unless the queen is proven to be sterile, the inner court strictly prohibits the harem to carry a King’s child. 

“She is carrying your child!”

He knows that, very well. But he wished his wife would refrain from carrying the weight of her emotions as it might put a toll on her health and consequently affect their unborn child. “Calm down,” King Namjoon prompted cautiously.

He could never forgive himself for failing to protect his unborn child from being stripped off the chance to live in a world where his/her father rules out a kingdom. Never in this lifetime and in the next would he ever learn to spare himself the forgiveness.

“You know, Lady Li and I are both with child. If I were not your queen, you’d simply allow them to get rid of my child, would you not?”

He reaches out, once more. “No, no. Of course, not. Not under my watch.”

But the queen was quick enough to retract from the close proximity.

Perhaps, he was right. He cannot have the power to overrule the inner court, but why does his words feel insincere? It made her suddenly fear for her own child’s life despite the position she holds. When her mother warned her about the sickening life in the palace and the doctrines in the inner court, she never thought it would come to this extent.

How can she look at his family and pretend everything is alright. One wrong move and might lose her child as well.

All too suddenly, she could feel herself slowly being overwhelmed with disgust, needing the urge to throw up.  

She couldn’t stand being here, to see anyone just yet. She fixes a glare at her attendants, warning them not to follow her. Her eyes lingered on him for a second before she took a swift turn, exiting her way out of the vicinity.

With quick strides, he followed her trail, only to spin back around, skimming through each one of servants in his quarters.

“No one must follow me or the queen,” his eyes particularly burned at his eunuch. “Do you understand?” He glowered, not waiting for them to answer as he too disappeared into the halls of his royal residence.

When you felt their grasp loosening, you began thrashing out as fear dominated your senses. Even with their hand pressed firmly on your mouth, you could hear your own sobs croaking out of your throat. And as if your pellucid fear had triggered them to stiffen, their hold around your waist loosened. But the adrenaline running in your senses all vanished the moment they finally spoke.

“Jagiya.”

Your eyes went round, recognizing the owner of the voice. He lets his hand fall from your mouth. 

”J-Jungkook?” you hesitated. While you remained flushed against his body, you couldn’t be sure of their identity.

Swiftly, he spun you around to confirm your assumption for yourself. The light torches were a little far where you two stood but there was no denying it was him, judging by the little features of his face you could make out through the help of the vibrant moon lighting up in the sky behind him.

Yet, his action had already shaken you up, feeling the loud beating of your heart. All of your emotional baggage rushing all at once, you couldn’t help but lash out to him, seeing his chest as a target to release all your frustrations.

“Why did you do that?! I thought I was being kidnapped,” you anguished, horror remained etched on your face.

He took all your hits without a fight as guilt all too sudden consumed him after realizing the effect of what he had done. “I’m sorry, Jagiya. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he murmurs, drying the moisture on the corners of your eyes with his thumbs. The moon was like a spotlight focused solely on yours, giving him the clear view of your weary face.

It wasn’t long before you calmed down. Now, all you feel is shame as your anger washes out of your system with every hit of your fist against his chest. Your head bobbed lower, “Just... don’t do that, again.”

Hearing him whisper a promise not to repeat the same mistake, you all but give him a curt nod, allowing the silence to fill in the moment.

Jungkook, once again, made you upset, the second time he had gotten himself close to you after his return to the capital. Must he keep making you in anguish just whenever he’s around you? It was wrong of him to catch your attention the way he had just done when he could’ve simply called you out to do it. But after seeing the queen and her maids passing by the same path you’re about to take, he didn’t want to make an unnecessary sound in case anyone’s lurking around without him seeing through the vicinity covered in almost pitch black.

He wondered why you seemed determined to go on your way despite going on around without a company. 

“Where are you going—”

“What are you doing here—”

You stilled just as he was surprised to hear you spoke the same time he decided to break the silence.

“I saw you going out of your quarters.” He simply answered. It was true. He left the festive banquet at the east to randomly visit your residence. He knew it would be unnecessary to invite himself into the premises so he just stood there, particularly waiting for nothing to kill time before he leaves the palace.

But then he saw the outermost doors of your residence opening, revealing none other than the subject of his thoughts. Then the rest was history.

“W-What? Are you spying on me?”

“Spying?” He chuckles at your choice of your words. He would’ve honestly accepted stalking better. “The banquet’s getting too loud to my liking. I’d rather spend my time with you. Mayhaps, luck is finally on my side when I saw you just in time— going out.”

Hearing his words earned a scoff from you. Wasn't he just with a woman this morning? Not to mention, it was one of the reasons why you randomly sought the need to breathe in some fresh air on a cold, winter night.

“I guess if you’re not distracted with your prince, you would have immediately caught the sound of my footing. Where are you going, anyway? Will you go see him?”

Your mouth parted in disbelief, “You didn’t hear anything from me when you were the one hiding with a woman just this morning.”

Hiding with a woman? For a second, his forehead crumpled in thought, recalling his activities prior to this moment. He couldn’t seem to remember when he actually hid with a woman. He didn’t even talk to any woman earlier in the morning, except for a friend—

“Ahh,” He hums in understanding, “Jagi, I’m not hiding with Mina—”

“Mina?”

He recalls speaking with Mina after the latter who belonged to the group of gisaengs during the banquet who recognized him inside the reception and was only able to catch up after him at the entrance main palace. Mina enthusiastically dragged him behind the closest infrastructure to briefly speak to him in peace without potentially attracting an audience.

“I met her a long time ago. Jagiya—“

“Forget it,” you immediately dismissed, but with him not missing the way color bloomed on your cheeks. “It’s not my business to hold it against you. You’re free to do as you wish.”

Are you being serious? How can you think he can be possibly interested to another woman? 

He tilts your chin up so he can see your pretty eyes, clearly. “What are you saying, Jagiya? I thought we’ve already established that I’m yours. Have I not?”

He heard no answer from you, but didn’t miss the subtle shake of your head.

“No?” He echoes, the frown on his face deepens. Still, you refused to speak nor return the heavy weight of his peer.

“Our lovemaking wasn’t enough, was it?” His sudden brought up to the matter which should never be spoken of made you dart your eyes back up at him. There it was again, the same emotions reflecting in your eyes the morning when you put a cold shoulder at him. He couldn’t quite decipher the signals you were giving him.

“Jungkook, we’re not together anymore.”

“Then would you rather be with the prince over me?”

You look away, even though you really wanted to give an answer. 

“I haven’t seen your beautiful smile since I came back, Jagi. But you were smiling a lot around him. Gods, was I jealous when you showed him of such privilege I was deprived of.” He groans, slowly inching his face closer, as if testing your reaction to his advance.

He took your lack of withdrawal as a sign to keep going. Silently, you gave him the freedom to intrude your personal space.

“You saw us,” you murmur, confirming it to yourself more than throwing it as a question to him.

Your jaw went slack, shamelessly anticipating for his lips to touch yours. Closer. Until your noses bumping, his mouth a breath away from touching your plump lips. It almost happened. Almost. Because just as he shifts his head a centimeter forward, finally capturing your awaiting lips with his, a cry of protest loudly resonated through the air, echoing as the sound bounces back from the empty silence.

“Stop following me!” The voice was undoubtedly owned by a woman.

If Jungkook didn’t recognize  the voice, you certainly did. Her voice was too familiar for you not to identify her as the Queen, forcing you to draw back from the proximity immediately. Once again, panic courses through you, rapidly consuming your senses as fear worsened your capability to think rationally in a situation such as this.

Your wide eyes stared back Jungkook in a silent plea.

It wasn’t clear to you how far she was from both of you, but the nearing claps of footsteps tells you the queen and whoever was following her are passing by behind the greenhouse. If they decided to take a turn right across where you two stood, they will certainly not miss the sight of you seemingly in a rendezvous with Jungkook.

“I said—Jeonha!”

You gasp, slapping a hand to your mouth, utterly stunned at what you just heard. Jeonha? Does that mean she was addressing her order to your brother?

“The K-King is here...” you stammer.

He hushed you, silently telling you to keep still as he cages you against the outer wall of the greenhouse, as if shielding you from any potential eyesight. He was too close as he let his head hang low just beside the shell of your ear. You could hear his heavy breathing, the warmth oozing naturally from his body seemed to calm your nerves in some way, nearly forgetting about the predicament both of you are in, nearly missing the silence lingering in the air.

Are they gone?

Despite your pellucid reaction, Jungkook seems not one bit shaken by the fact you two are a thread away from being seen together in the dark.

Suddenly, he shifted onto your left, breaking his manmade territory around you to move further away from where you two were supposed to be hiding.

“Jungkook!” you desperately called for his attention in a panicked whisper.

Nervously, you watch his back as he extends his neck to peep behind the greenhouse. It didn’t take him long before he whirled back around, and in a flash, grapples your wrist and dragged you into the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?”

Though Jungkook could hear the agitation in your tone, he ignored your question, averting his focus to hide you and make no sound at all. The couple turned out to be closer than he had guessed them to be.

Just as he stopped in front of the doors of the greenhouse, he heard you argue about his choice of hiding spot, but ignored you for the second time.

In a calculated shuffling on the rusted bar keeping the twin panel of doors closed, he flicked it up, allowing him to push one of the doors open. The firm grip of his fingers on your waist was all you could focus on as he urged you to enter inside the greenhouse. Carefully, he pushed the door back closed, dragging you with it as he pressed your back against the cold surface. His hands on both sides of your head as he rests his forehead against the door, just above your shoulder. You couldn’t see much of the view behind him because of the lack of light inside. But the moonlight seeping through the transparent roofing of the greenhouse was enough to give you the faintest possible light to make out the features of his frame.

“It was too quiet, isn’t it? I thought the queen and king were gone.”

“We were intruding them,” he simply replied.

“W-What?”

He shifted his head to the side and before you knew it, a pair of warm lips touched yours in fervor. Jungkook has never been this bold before to break your personal space nor touches without asking your permission.

Years without seeing him, you understand that he might have grown into a persona different from what you know of him. When you saw him that weary day after four years, you picked up a sense of strangeness in his aura. Perhaps, it is his confidence or the powerful aura he naturally emits that made you speechless.

Groaning as the feel of your mouth accelerated the temperature of his body, Jungkook deepens the kiss with his tongue pushing passed your parted lips.

The way he held you in place, with his hands on your face and his torso locking you firm against the door, you didn’t expect him to withdraw from the kiss so soon which resulted in a soft breathy whine to slip out of your throat.

“Perhaps that answered your question,” he says, picking up the teasing tone in his voice. Jungkook dipped his head lower, burying his head on the crook of your neck to press a warm, wet kiss on the same spot he bruised purple two nights ago.

grand royal dowager queen - spouse of a former king; presently the king’s grandmother Halma-mama - how the royal grandchildren address their grandmother gongju - title of a princess bubuin - title of princess consort (wife of a prince) gisaeng - female entertainer yangban - any nobleman holding a government position dogam - a committee/body authorized to organize a royal event jinchan - other term for royal banquet soban - other term for a traditional table used in joseon era hanji - other term for traditional korean paper Changdeok - East Palace Gyeongbok - Main Palace/main residence of the royal family

note: after posting 4 chapters of the series, im finally opening a tag list skskssksjsj hahaahaha if u lovelies want to be tagged in the future chapters, send me your url here.

mintseesaw © 2020

#btsguild #goldenclosetnet #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #jungkook x reader #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook au #princess!reader #general!jungkook #prince!jimin

[buckyownsmylife]

Touch-A Touch-A Touch me - Part II - Sebastian Stan smut

The one where you get back to Professor Stan’s apartment and he’s not behaving like you’re used to.

Warnings: smut, pwp, professor-student relationship (both legal), dominant relationship, jealousy, begging, dirty talk, ice play, insecure! Seb, secret relationship, sir kink, spanking (briefly), sex with clothes on while partner is naked

A/N: Okay, you guys! Here it is! This is the second part to my Sebastian Stan Professor AU that I promised I’d do and that the sweet @godohammers encouraged me to write! You don’t need to read that one to understand this, but if you want, here it is! I hope you guys like it!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

As I made my way into his apartment, I felt like my skin was on fire from all the desire I had boiling inside of me. It was like this every time I had to deal with Sebastian’s eyes on me for any amount of time. Knowing that he had done precisely that all throughout the evening - not to mention the little episode we shared inside the bathroom - had made me wetter than I cared to admit.

Having to spend all night apart from him was terrible. Having to take a separate cab to go back to his place was awful. But nothing was worse than bursting through his door to find him quietly sipping on a glass of scotch, piercing eyes connected to mine, but otherwise absolutely silent.

“C’mon, baby, please…” I had been begging for the last fifteen minutes, but still, nothing. He had ordered me to strip and relieved me of the agony the fabric of the dress was prompting as it brushed against my hardened nipples, but now I was being faced with a different type of torture. Being spread out for him over his mattress while he quietly watched as my wetness gathered over my pussy, until it was slowly dripping from me onto the bed.

He hadn’t even touched me. And he hadn’t allowed me to touch myself either. I was a mess and all from the effect he caused on me, simply by his staring.

My desperate whine must have prompted him to approach, or maybe it was because he had finally finished his drink. All I knew is that suddenly he had pulled me by the back of my head so our lips could connect in a kiss that was all fire and tongue and I was already on the edge just from this little bit of contact.

God, I needed him.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he pointed out after he let me go, pushing me back into the bed. He carefully made his way around the mattress, still not climbing into it, just staring with a piercing attention at my body. “Who made you this wet?” He asked, collecting some of my wetness with two of his long fingers, before rubbing them together. The touch was so light, barely there, but it fed the fire in my lower stomach, making me gasp in excitement. “Was it Tom?”

The question made me freeze. Who the fuck was Tom?

Then, suddenly, I remembered. And it all made sense.

“You’re jealous,” I noted. “Of professor Hardy?” Sebastian didn’t say anything, opting instead to turn his back to me and walk towards his now empty glass. Except it wasn’t empty, I was suddenly made aware as he came back to me after having scooped up a single piece of ice.

He still didn’t say anything as he held it above my body, letting it drip just between my breasts. The coldness surprised me, even if I thought I was prepared for it. I gasped, my breasts bouncing as I convulsed, my nipples screaming out for attention.

That made him smile.

“So I can still get such a reaction from you, huh?” The answer was obvious, but at least now I knew where the question was coming from. Underneath that cold exterior, I could now see the insecurity in his eyes. Sometimes I forgot that it was hard for him too, having to keep this relationship a secret. But I was more than eager to help remind him that I was his, and that’s what I wanted to be for as long as he wanted me.

“You can always get this reaction from me, sir. Only you.” It was clearly the right thing to say, by the way he rewarded me with a quick kiss on the lips that honestly only left me wanting more. But then the ice was deposited just above my belly button and down, down, down it went, until it met another type of wetness, the one I was producing. After quickly rubbing it over my throbbing clit, he pushed it inside of me, right where I had been desperate for his touch. “Seb… Seb, please, please fuck me…” I begged, but my only answer was a spank to my clit with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied.

“I’m not in the mood to play games, doll.” Crying out, I instinctively tried to move my hips so his fingers would provide me with at least some of the friction I so desperately desired.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I scrambled to rectify it. “Please, sir… Please, fuck me.” Although he didn’t immediately answer, his eyes never strayed from mine, and his hand kept moving, giving me at least the tiniest bit of pleasure. Still, it could never compare to how it felt to have him inside of me.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he granted me a tiny nod, but his face never showed any emotion, remaining in that same distant demeanor I had found when I first entered his apartment. I had no idea what his acquiescence meant, but I was desperate to find out.

“Do you want to cum tonight?” He asked, his voice not betraying any of the emotions that would help me understand what was going on inside his head. But I knew the answer he wanted to hear.

“Yes, please, sir.” I immediately nodded, licking my lips at the prospect of having him inside of me, filling me up, stretching me out like he always did. No matter how many times he fucked me, it was always the tiniest bit uncomfortable when he first pushed in, but I had come to cherish that immediate sensation and now constantly craved for it.

“Then beg for my cock. Assure me it’s the only one you want. Remind me you’re mine and only mine.” He had unbuckled his trousers while speaking, and his cock was now tightly secured in his fist, that travelled up and down his length while he stared down at my naked body. 

“I am,” my response came without any need to think about it. “God, I’m all yours, sir. Mind, body and soul. No one can make me feel the way that you do. Please, please fuck me. I feel so empty without you inside of me.” For the first time that night, his lips twitched up, betraying how my words had really affected him. 

In a second, he made his way over to me, still not properly undressing, but that was the least of my concerns. At least now I had him between my legs, his weight pressing me down, his warmth seeping into my skin even through the layers of his three-piece suit.

Seb’s P.O.V.

“I love you so much,” I muttered against her neck as I fused us together. The welcoming gasp she let out every single time I thrusted into her was like music to my ears. “You are everything to me, baby girl.”

Little moans of pleasure escaped her delicious lips as she accepted my declarations and the movement of my hips as I tried to find that one spot that made her eyes roll back. When I did, she gasped again, one of her arms coming around my shoulders to hug me closer to her. 

“I-I love you too, sir,” she managed to admit, although she could barely open her eyes as I continued to passionately fuck her against the mattress. I wasn’t completely satisfied with her words, however, and I let her know by biting on her earlobe.

“No sir anymore, darling. Just me. Tell me you love me, c’mon. I wanna hear you say my name.” The vulnerability in my tone made her open her eyes to stare up at me, her lips still somewhat open from the sounds she couldn’t stop releasing.

“I love you, Seb,” she said, her eyes connected with mine like our bodies were, no hesitation in her declaration. The moment became too much for me. The sight of the woman that I loved underneath me, telling me she felt the same way, the feeling of her wet, tight walls clenching around me… I came with a strangled groan, my knees failing to keep me up as she screamed my name when my spurts of cum caused her to reach her high too.

We stayed there for a long while, just silently basking in each other’s warmth, while Y/N caressed my hair and I thought long and hard about the evening we had shared. “I’m sorry,” I decided to come out with it sooner than later.

“For what?” She asked, stopping her movements, which allowed me to push myself away from her chest to look her in the eye.

“For being a jealous asshole. For being blinded by Tom’s interest in you and letting it get to me. I never really thought you’d reciprocate his feelings, I was just… scared. I don’t want to lose you.” Y/N opened up a smile at my words, but her eyes seemed somewhat saddened by them.

“You’re never going to lose me, Seb. I love you.” She pushed herself to lean on her elbows, so she could kiss my forehead briefly. “Besides, Professor Hardy is nowhere near as hot as you.”

That made me laugh out loud, and just like that, the cloud of anxiety that had been weighing me down was pushed away, ignored and forgotten by the incredible caring power of my girlfriend.

“I’m not so sure your friends would be completely in agreement with you,” I argued, but she simply shook her head, strands from her hair sticking to her sweaty skin. She had a determined look on her face that begged me to take whatever she was going to say very seriously.

“They have terrible taste in everything, including men. Please don’t use them as any sort of standard of judgment, or you will be embarrassed by it.” Her words were so honest that I knew there was a story behind it. Already laughing, I managed to ask, “You’re talking from a personal experience, darling?”

She looked at me with wide eyes, like she was suddenly brought back from some difficult memories by my question. “Yes,” she admitted, but immediately added, “Please don’t make me elaborate on that.”

With another hearty laugh, I hugged her to my chest, squeezing her as hard as I could, thankful to whatever God was in charge that we had managed to find each other. “Of course, baby girl. Let’s talk about better things, tell me you love me again.” This time, it was her laugh that filled the room and my heart, and with that loving sound in my life, I was sure I’d be able to overcome any obstacle that might appear in my way - even if it was another suitor interested in her caresses. Because I knew the only person who would ever received them would be me.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan insert #sebastian stan #smut #sebastian stan insert fanfiction #my fics #professor au #sebastian stan professor #sebastian stan professor au

[cherry-interlude]

Lana Del Rey Album Songs Ranking (Remade)

It’s been a few years since I ranked all of Lana’s (album) songs so I wanted to do it again. This is all my OPINION, which I’m sure some people might disagree with, but you don’t have to agree with it. This is also a very long post.

Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood

This cover song is just a little too drab and uninteresting to me, and I never listen to it. After the brilliant, sprawling, sexy, heart-breaking tracks on Honeymoon, this feels like a tacked-on track just to plump up the album. It feels simply like a cover.

For Free

Though this is a well-made song, with three brilliant women owning the track, it again just feels like a cover. It fits in well with Chemtrails, but by the time I get to this song I’ve had my fill.

Breaking Up Slowly

It just feels repetitive and simple, something only to have on in the background while my attention is diverted. It’s a good song and a nice attempt at bringing Lana’s country music in, but it does little to keep me interested.

God Knows I Tried

This song is filler. Jammed between the jazzy softness of Terrence Loves You and the pop favourite High By The Beach, this track just feels like it was sort of shoved in. It doesn’t even feel completely right on Honeymoon, instead a throwaway song that bridges Ultraviolence and Honeymoon whilst not fitting in with either album.

24

Though perfect for the credits of a Hollywood movie, 24 has plenty of flair but nothing of substance. The lyrics aren’t as imaginative as most of Lana’s music and I’m not surprised this song found itself near the end of the album.

Lucky Ones

Personally, this song irritates me. It's sickly in its lyrics, sugary in the romance and classic Lana tropes of dangerous men and Lana starstruck by them no matter if they’re ‘careless cons and crazy liars’. The little flair of the verses and the overtly sweet chorus really irks me, especially following the brilliance that is Lana’s first ‘Del Rey’ album.

Coachella

It is a rushed track, sounding completely unfinished and hurried with an unconvincing track beat. Polished, it would be brilliant – but it sounds like Lana thought of the song (which sounds promising in the video where she sits in the forest and sings) and had to force it to ‘fit in’ with the trap-pop tracks on Lust For Life. The lyrics are thoughtful, if not cliché, but it could have been done better.

This Is What Makes Us Girls

It just doesn’t appeal to me. Maybe because I can’t connect to the lyrics in any way, I just don’t feel anything when I hear this song and choose to skip it. That being said, the demos are pretty fun.

God Bless America

As much as it’s a song honouring women during a period of time when feminism was being shaken, it doesn’t quite feel like Lana’s heart is in it. The patriotism is uneasy considering she was removing herself from the American flag and its associations, and the anthemic feel never lifts. It’s a sweet song, but never goes deeper than surface level.

Religion

Though fairly sexy and haunting – her unshaken faith to her man, her drawling voice – this delicate track is too simple and sombre for me to get completely into it. I always want to skip and get to my favourites.

In My Feelings

It’s great Lana has a bad-girl, bad-bitch, fuck-you pop track but this, like Coachella, feels unfinished. It has the vibe of work in progress, and the vocals are still messy (surely intentionally, though it doesn’t always come across that way) as well as trying slightly too hard. It doesn’t compare to Fucked My Way Up To The Top.

Beautiful People Beautiful Problems

The verses don’t match up to the choruses and I feel nothing – not empowered or emotional – when listening to this song, but it is a beautiful duet between Lana and Stevie. Their voices really are divine together and though I don’t listen to this song much, the demos are even better.

Change

Mostly because it freaks me out, this is a song I don’t often listen to. With a basic structure yet long, meandering lyrics, Lana broods over the state of America at the time, which can make for depressive listening. Though it’s a pretty enough song, it’s seriousness is too much to bear sometimes.

Blue Velvet

Sometimes too slow, Blue Velvet doesn’t inspire multiple listens in me, but it is a gorgeous cover and absolutely a showcase of Lana’s vocals.

Diet Mountain Dew

A cheeky little track that won many over, it still is hard for me to fully get into it. However, it ages like fine wine and is a wonderful step into the Lizzy Grant unreleased tracks (especially with the many, sometimes even better demos).  

Burning Desire

It’s a messy song, with Lana’s vocals shaky and the instrumental not quite up to scratch, but this song is certainly a guilty pleasure and great for getting into the sexy mood. The car metaphors are a bit much, especially considering it’s for a car advert, but if you get past that it’s a song to add to your freaky playlist.

Money Power Glory

As powerful and dark as this song is, with incredible instrumentals and Lana at her most dynamic, I barely remember the lyrics of the verses, instead waiting for the rich choruses.

Swan Song

A gentle track that has a lot of untapped power behind it, this is a quiet stormer of a song that has a lot of heart and grace. It may be a filler track, but it is definitely better than some.

Bartender

Even more gentle is the confessional, piano-led Bartender, which is a sweet little love song stripped back much like Lana’s simple romance where she sneaks out to see her lover. The main (and probably ridiculous) thing that keeps me from falling in love with this song more – though I’m already pretty amazed by it – is the very quiet sound of feedback that comes and goes, a fuzzy noise that is very subtle but distracting enough for me.

The Next Best American Record

This song would be higher if it was Architecture – the gorgeous, well-thought stunner that wowed us all when it was leaked. The lyrics are less fractured relationship and more wishy washy, wiping away the gritty sadness that made Architecture so beloved (at least to me). Now it’s been made ‘happier’, it’s hard to tell what the song is – is Lana happy with her lover or is she sad like in the unreleased version? Is this a break up song or a celebration of the romance? What does it mean now that it is both of them that are obsessed with writing? It’s something for me to certainly explore more, but it is paled in comparison to the original.

When The World Was At War

This track grew on me, with the hidden lyrics, fun vocals and hopeful message. Lana knows how to make a song that lifts your mood and this is certainly one of them.

Guns and Roses

I used to despise this song – finding it boring and dull. However, after giving it a listen years later, it is in fact a beautiful song with a gritty feel that is perfect for Ultraviolence. It fits in perfectly with the album and the extended tracks, and though it isn’t the strongest lyrically, the vocals and dreamy feel is thrilling.

Lolita

I choose to listen to this song without the underage character – or romantic connotations of her – in mind, instead seeing this song as a grown woman trying to charm an older man. However, as I have grown older – and read (and loved) the book several times more – I feel more inclined to distance myself from this song. It’s a fun, perky pop track but it definitely feels dated.

Dance Till We Die

Lana sings of her connection to other famous female singers and her daughter’s chosen name, making this a very personal pop song that also reminds of When The World Was At War for its hopeful and ultimately positive edge. It is a little slow but incredible touching, and the bridge is so kickass you can’t help but dance along.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

This is a very sweet little song that again showcases the more positive side of Lana’s music, rather than the heartbroken and distressed women she tends to play. Though it is a filler song it’s a very pretty one and so catchy.

Wild At Heart

Wild At Heart is similar to Not All Who Wander Are Lost in that it’s a departure from a tragic femme fatale, instead a love song that also mimics Swan Song in that she considers leaving fame for her lover. What makes it even better is how Lana samples How To Disappear, a much sadder track, and twists it into something happy with this ultimately more upbeat album.

Radio

Like Diet Mountain Dew, Radio is another perky tune that is more than just a catchy filler. It’s a little bit sassy and has an edge to it (with the expletives and how her life is sweet not like sugar but cinnamon) that keeps it from being too frothy. Speaking of Lana’s newfound fame, it’s a nice break from the love ballads and tragedies peppered throughout Born To Die.

Without You

Shockingly dramatic, Without You is the ultimate symbol of Lana’s older music – a woman who could only feel happy unless her man was in her life. She has definitely moved on for the most part from wailing her demise at losing her lover but Without You is still glamorous, catchy and perfect to singalong to.

The Other Woman

This is one of Lana’s best covers – Nina Simone’s song about being the other woman and how it is in fact lonely and heart-breaking. Lana makes the song her own, her vocals stunning and lo-fi with instrumentals that are perfect for Ultraviolence.

How To Disappear

I feel that the live version of How To Disappear, where she sung it on stage before it was released with its real instrumental, is the superior version. It’s stripped back and tender enough to feel the emotion thoroughly, but the album version doesn’t disappoint. It’s one of many great tracks from (what I think is) her best album, and has a great story within it.

Fucked My Way Up To The Top

Lana’s satirical, sexy and stirring Fucked My Way Up To The Top was just tongue-in-cheek enough to keep from being too much of a cliché. Perhaps based on her real experiences but definitely a fuck-you to anyone who critiques her for owning her sexuality, it’s a little bit controversial but an incredible song.

Tomorrow Never Came

This song, which is a gorgeous duet with Sean Ono Lennon and a nice nod to 20th century music, subverts expectations that it is a sad song by in fact including a happy ending. I love how it can make you cry with both sadness and happiness, and tells a sweet story that paints pictures of parks and country houses.

Yosemite

The long-awaited Yosemite didn’t disappoint, and though it took a while to grow on me it became a classic and somehow familiar track. It’s impossible to not sing or dance to it and wouldn’t be out of place in Lust For Life.

Hope Is A Dangerous Thing

It’s quite slow – the Change/24/Old Money of Norman Fucking Rockwell – but it is clearly a personal and well-thought song that references Lana’s great inspiration Sylvia Plath. Lana’s deft at getting her thoughts out in song and I think though it’s not a song I often listen to, it is beautiful.

Honeymoon

The sweeping violins, dramatic vocals and the dangerous undercurrent makes Honeymoon crackle with electricity. It’s an amazing introduction to an album that once again has dangerous men, bad girls who get hurt but are strong again and amazing instrumentals. Though it’s not the best song from the album, it sets the tone perfectly.

Million Dollar Man

Like Without You, it’s another song of complete devastation, which Lana has grown from in her music. Million Dollar Man shows some great vocals and lyrics, and gets the emotion out perfectly whilst honouring the music that inspired her.

Old Money

The verses are pretty enough but they don’t catch my attention the way the choruses do. The slow, steady song took a long time for me to really appreciate but it’s impossible not to feel some kind of emotion when Lana lets her lover know she will be with them whenever they need her.

Sad Girl

Like The Other Woman, Sad Girl shows how being the other woman has it’s downfalls but appreciates the sexy, exciting side of it – how alluring her man is and how much of a bad bitch she may be. Once again, it’s a pure Ultraviolence song that shows Lana’s vocals and music in the best way whilst showcasing the classic caricature of the femme fatale.

Dark Paradise

Strangely upbeat for such a sad song, Dark Paradise is great to dance to but also something that makes you want to cry. Lana’s vocalisations and dramatic lyrics don’t quite compare to some of her other songs but Dark Paradise is iconic.

Summertime Sadness

The slow-burn, emotional gut punch that is Summertime Sadness is always a classic and one of Lana’s best. Though it is far from my personal favourite it is absolutely an outstanding song and the perfect example of Lana’s most well-made and well-delivered songs.

Gods and Monsters

The strained Gods and Monsters is a great tale about the evil side of fame, which Lana never quite delves too deeply into but gives a metaphorical and mildly personal nod to. Gods and Monsters is one of those songs that has you singing along and feeling strong.

Carmen

Carmen is a beautiful, sad story that feels rich and luxurious despite its harrowing lyrics of an alcoholic star. The French bridge adds to the decadence and it feels like a dirty alcohol bottle wrapped in silk, from the tentative verses to the unnerving chorus.

Born To Die

One of Lana’s original pop chart tracks, this is a song that never grows old. It’s one of the blueprints of the Lana Del Rey era and deftly shows her vocals whilst setting the tone for the pessimistic, romantic star in the early 2010s.

Salvatore

Opening with laughing – or crying – Salvatore has an eerie feel to it, though it is completely erotic in feel (enough to ignore some of the simpler lyrics). It is a song that feels dreamy, much like the rest of Honeymoon, but passionate and reminding of some of her older music (from the vocals in the bridge that have a Lolita/Fucked My Way Up To The Top feel to them to the continued trope of bad boys and glamour).

Flipside

Dirty, gritty and quite contained, Flipside is a song that I wished had more attention. It’s not her most imaginative song but there’s something about it, from the gloomy guitars to the hushed vocals, that have me wanting to sing it over and over. It also is one of her great fuck-off songs, as sympathetic as it is resilient.

Doin’ Time

Lana really turns this song into her own with the summery instrumentals and the pop edge she is so good at. It’s surprisingly one of her best covers and a fresh-feeling track that isn’t bogged down by emotion or maudlin music.

Lust For Life

Breathless and oh-so-romantic, Lust For Life is one of those songs that was perfect for the charts, and a key piece in Lana’s turn into becoming more positive. However, as fun and lovely as this song is, the demos are a whole other ball game. A little more ethereal, they fit Lana much more perfectly and it’s sad she dismissed the witchy feel for a song that is brilliant but generic.

Love

One of Lana’s warmest and most refreshing songs, she looks at love with fondness and dedicates this track to her ‘kids’. She knows her fans well and to make a song that references them (much like Happiness Is A Butterfly’s nod to her ‘babies’) makes this song all the more pleasant.

The Greatest

Lana’s vocals are put to good use in this intimately-written song. She speaks her mind in her reminiscence of the past and the worries for the future, all with a storming chorus that is certainly one of her best.

Love Song

Tender and almost tentative, Love Song is one of those tracks that is romantic through-and-through. It’s stripped back enough to feel like it really is a private song for only her lover’s ears, just as confessional as Cinnamon Girl and Bartender.

White Mustang

Short but sweet, this song has all the makings of a Lana Del Rey song, harking back to the Born To Die days with her imagery and fallen love affair, but it is spiky enough to be part of her later music where she starts giving less shits. The whistling and race cars are a nice touch, displaying her play on words snugly.

Dark But Just A Game

Sort of jazzy, Dark But Just A Game is ever-shifting and never quite settles on a particular sound. It’s cohesive, however, and clearly states what Lana is thinking in a way that works with the rest of Chemtrails. It’s pretty sexy as well, which doesn’t hurt the enjoyability factor.

High By The Beach

The wooziness, the carelessness and the growth from a woman begging to be put in a movie to a woman who is able to do as she pleases. Lana stumbles and swears through the song but knows exactly what she wants – and it isn’t disappointing men or stalking paparazzi.

Let Me Love You Like A Woman

Some may think it much slower and more boring than a lot of her tracks, but I think it’s a tidy, sweet track. Lana plainly states her love, urges her man to run away with her and lets her emotions (and voice) do the talking.

Summer Bummer

Lana is as restless as a hot summer in this song and it works. Her brisk-paced yet soft-voiced lyrics and gorgeous imagery gets my pulse racing, and ASAP Rocky’s verse works well for it. Though it would have been interesting to get a full, solo Summer Bummer, Rocky adds an edge to this song and compliments his ‘lover’ well.

Groupie Love

Much more flowery and wide-eyed, Groupie Love is like a contradiction. Lana’s passionate dalliance with Rocky’s god-like star opposes the relationship in Summer Bummer (uncertain) but both are just as secret. Groupie Love has the edge of being ultra-dreamy and demonstrating pure love – and lust – without the messiness.

American

It’s a filler track that has potential for much more. It’s an adorable song, almost cautious in its lead-up to the satisfying chorus, and is filled with Lana tropes galore. Following Lana’s stressed Ride and coming before the darkly sensual Cola, American is a breath of fresh air.

National Anthem

What an anthem it is. It’s simply provocative and one of her most classic tracks. Mixing love, money and fame together with a bit of sex thrown in, National Anthem is precisely what Lana’s America seems to be.

Is This Happiness?

It’s muted, mournful and resentful, questioning a relationship that Lana wants to keep but at the same time doesn’t. This is one of Lana’s best sad songs, tearful as it is still adoring beneath the exasperation.

Art Deco

Art Deco is purely dreamy, a song to bathe in. The lyrics are a little bit simple but Lana’s vocals and the flowing, aquatic music is the perfect hook.

Terrence Loves You

Lana’s jazzy song is delicate, letting only her voice and the saxophone dominate. With references to David Bowie, Lana pines for someone who hurt her badly, but she soothes herself with music the way plenty of her fans do when listening to her records.

White Dress

The vocals were a surprise at first – high, strained whispers – but they definitely grew on me. Painting a picture of young Lana loving life and dreaming of bigger things, it’s nostalgic in lyrics but also reminds of some of Lana’s old work – her unreleased tracks where she would serve coke and fries.

Chemtrails

It gets better as it goes on, growing and twisting from a song to sunbathe to into a restless, darkening track. It has the best vibe for an idealised world with something a bit off, and the imagery of pools, jewels and schools grounds Lana into a (very, very rich) normality rather than the glamorous star she always liked to portray.

13 Beaches

Opening with a quote from Carnival of Souls, Lana takes High By The Beach to the next level. She goes from sticking her middle finger up to the paparazzi to simply wishing she would be allowed to live her life without them hounding her. It’s a matured approach that uses sound interestingly, with beeps and whines adding a strange texture to the song.

Cola

The controversial line was intended as humour, but strangely it works. Even if Cola is satire like Fucked My Way Up To The Top, Lana owns the ‘other woman’, the patriotic singer, the sexy and unashamed woman who says what she thinks without caring of the consequences. It’s an iconic song, even if you have to turn the volume down to not offend.

Black Beauty

The unreleased version is ten times more emotive, with its stripped back and lonesome feel, but the album version is just as good. The ultimately loving but unhappy lyrics are full of stunning imagery, and this is a song that would have been perfect with a music video.

Body Electric

Blasphemous as much as it honours icons, Lana sinfully owns Body Electric. The bridge is a bit out of place but Lana’s eyebrow-raising approach to religion and sexuality is genius.

Off To The Races

The best demonstration of Lana’s vocals, Lana plays the glam girl without a care just as well as the Lolita-type, needy lover in this ode to money and her man. The soaring bridge is stunning, and the swirling violins add an air of Hollywood to it.

Bel Air

Completely overlooked (in my opinion), Bel Air is an apologetic song of redemption, a shining and honest track that is as touching as much as it is hazy and tranquil. With soft piano and the sound of children opening and closing the song respectively, it’s set apart from Paradise with a pureness that Lana pulls off well.

Ultraviolence

Controversial at the time and still controversial now, Ultraviolence is about being weak, about giving in to love no matter how toxic. I don’t entirely support the lyrics but it’s a stunning song, lo-fi enough to feel uneasy and haunting. When you shut off from the lyrics, you get a simply beautiful track.

Pretty When You Cry

Lana’s imperfect, close-to-tears vocals are wonderful in this song, and she really lets her emotion shine through. The pained guitar and Lana’s increasingly distressed singing are enough to get you feeling exactly as she does.

Florida Kilos

Fun. Fresh. Freeing. Lana’s ode to drugs is simply something to dance to and sing, and she somehow manages to get the sunny feeling across even with the Ulraviolence-esque grunginess. It’s one of my favourite songs of Lana’s because it’s just so happy, which is a nice departure from some of her heavier tracks.

Cherry

Many people’s favourite – Cherry. It was my favourite of Lana’s for a long time, dripping with sex appeal and sadness but with a cute dance to compliment it. It had all the right stuff wrapped up in a tidy, compact box and the imagery is lush. I still love this song but since then we’ve had the ‘Cherries’ of her next few albums, Cinnamon Girl and Tulsa Jesus Freak. Like these, Cherry was a song that seemed set apart from the rest of the album and was a novel take on her typical music.

California

Simply for It's meaningful, raw lyrics – promising to be there as soon as he wants her, much like in Old Money – California is a sun-soaked dream with a very honest approach. Lana isn’t completely devastated, or begging for her lover to return. She is sad but realistic, and only wants the best for him. It’s beautiful and sad with a crazily addictive chorus.

West Coast

The shift from fast-paced, grungey, whispered verses to sprawling, drawling choruses – complete with weirdly sexy beeps towards the end of the song – shook us all, and it’s one of Lana’s most interesting songs. Lana honours the West Coast but also her man, in love with the music scene as much as she is with him.

Shades of Cool

The snide verses. The gradually growing music. The guitars. The explosive chorus. The nuclear bridge. The absolutely perfect timing and pacing. Shades of Cool is flawless, another Sad Girl but with much more power, emotion and music.

The Blackest Day

The Blackest Day needs more attention. Cold in places, almost lost, but then wounded in the chorus, The Blackest Day rolls with the emotions and is the kind of song that makes you want to fall apart and sob. Which is good, in a way, as it shows how brilliantly Lana conveys emotion.

Freak

Cult-like and haunting, this is the sexy predecessor of California. Lana swoons and tempts in this track, from her harmonising to her pouting “take it to the back if you really wanna talk” - not to mention the rest of the song in its entirely, all elements married together to create the perfect seductive track.

Music To Watch Boys To

Like Art Deco, Music To Watch Boys To is fairly aquatic and dreamy. Like Freak, it has that cult vibe (the chanting of the bridge). However, this song is perfectly its own, from the mix-up of vocal styles to the shifting tone (sad to smug to obsessively in love).

Norman Fucking Rockwell

What an opener. Norman Fucking Rockwell lets the actual singing and lyrics do the talking, the instrumentals pushed back enough to let Lana’s gut-punching first line (“God damn, man child, you fucked me so good that I almost said I love you”) and her blue yet annoyed insults to her Norman Rockwell do the talking.

Mariner’s Apartment Complex

It’s a song for yourself and for the people you love. Lana is strong enough to take care of herself, to be her own guidance – and to take on her lover’s problems too. It’s an empowering song, so distant from a lot of her discography, and I adore the nautical references and the hopeful message.

Brooklyn Baby

Satire again, but it still works. Lana plays a (fairly cringey) and somewhat self-absorbed, over-confident singer who is too cool for her own boyfriend, but she does it well. From saying how she wished people didn’t judge her, to the freedom the seventies gives her, to the warm guitars and upbeat tone, to the backup vocals of Seth Kaufman, Brooklyn Baby is a song to remember for all the right reasons.

Ride

Ride is one of Lana’s best, if not the best. With her devotion to America and her open thoughts about needing other people to make her feel good and happy, Lana knocks it out of the park with the superb step up from Born To Die.

Video Games

Video Games is just beautiful, plain and simple. Lana’s low voice, telling a flowing story of the simplicities of true love, are removed from her ‘famous singer’ image she constantly tried to portray and instead open up to the heart of what she has always sung about: love and its many forms, good or bad.

Get Free

The new take on Ride was a pleasant surprise. From changing the lyrics to show she wants to move on and be happy to (silently) name-dropping her influences, Lana’s manifesto was a personal song that we could all resonate with. The outro of the beach was the perfect closer to Lust For Life, and Get Free summarised the album which took her from sad girl to someone who could let herself move on.

Heroin

Heroin is no doubt one of her best. It’s tense and dark, referencing Manson and (allegedly) a friend she lost years ago. Lana lets herself dive into her worst thoughts headfirst, not so much dreamy as it is nightmarish, but still comes out the other side dreaming of marzipan and ready to move on.

Tulsa Jesus Freak

The third of the ‘Cherries’, Tulsa Jesus Freak goes straight to a happy place. Where Cherry was angry and Cinnamon Girl was cautious, this track dives into being comfortable with her man. It was just as passionate as the other two songs but about religion, sex and self-satisfaction.

Blue Jeans

Plucking guitars, crying violins and Lana weaving a tale about a gangsta who left her, without explanation, and the hurt that follows. Similarly tied to Dark Paradise, Blue Jeans is the next level of that, her tough-girl spoken verses dismissed as the choruses open up and she pours her heart out.

Cruel World

Lana is on top-form on this song, furious, maddened, sad, taunting – she hits every emotion with style. Lana grows more and more unstable as the song goes on, invoking images of a woman scorned and no longer taking that shit, but she still has a fragility about her as she comes undone that is tied directly to her Ultraviolence era.

Happiness Is A Butterfly

This song goes through many stages. She is unsure, not knowing how her lover feels. She is optimistic, elated as she tries to capture the butterfly. She is dismissive, no longer caring if she might get hurt – she loves too much. She is pissed off, sick of being treated badly. She gives in, simply wanting to dance and just be happy. The flow of this song is constant, a little messy, but it has the beautiful message pinned to it: to keep trying to be happy and do what you love.

Fuck It I Love You

I love the music video version more than the album version, the latter being more stripped back. Fuck It I Love You just gives in to emotion, acknowledging Lana is hurt, her lover is hurt, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him. She simply lets that feeling take over.

Cinnamon Girl

Cinnamon Girl touched me like no other Lana song has. Where Cherry was a mixture of emotions, good and bad, angry and loving, devastated and thrilled, Cinnamon Girl was about cautious optimism. Lana urges her lover to give in, and she knows – smiling as she sings it – she wins.

Venice Bitch

Venice Bitch just has that soothing, unhindered feel to it – and not just from the nine minutes of pure music and vibe. Lana dedicates this song to the kind of love that is just wholesome and homely, all whilst touching on her insanity, her ever-lasting love for America and the modern world (her live streams). It feels nostalgic yet contemporary, and adding the “fucks” and “bitch[es]” helps keep this song from being to sugary sweet but instead what it is – an honest love song rooted in the idealised and the realistic.

[cultureisdarkbeer]

In Season 8, Mulder returned to a world turned upside down. This is the story of how he worked his way back into Scully's arms.

*NEW* Chapter 4 - Does Scully want to be more than friends with Mulder? Does Mulder have the courage to ask? *Reader Discretion Advised* 

Read Full Chapter Here

“Thank you for driving me home,” Scully said, as they pulled onto the street and towards her apartment.

Mulder twisted his hand around the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Thank you for attending my therapy session. What did you two talk about in there?” He tried to sound cool, but his eagerness was not lost on Scully.  

“Reviewed different techniques, how I could be more supportive.”

Mulder tilted his head. “Sometimes, the flashbacks, nightmares, and anxiety attacks seemed to be subsiding. Almost as if my mental trauma is healing with my physical wounds. Then others, it is like I just got off the ship.” 

“No one should expect you to heal at any pace, Mulder. He said it should take at least three months before you might begin to feel progress..  but Mulder, however long it takes, or even if you always have certain anxieties, depression, that’s okay. There is no right and wrong.”

Mulder didn’t know how to respond so he simply nodded. If only it was as simple as time passing or even the acceptance that time couldn’t be rewound, but there was more. A lot more.

The rest of the drive was met with a comfortable silence. It was so quiet he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. A quick glance in her direction revealed her eyes were closed, then, as if feeling his gaze, she opened them and a small smile curved her lips. She reached out and grasped his hand before once again closing her eyes. Did he just hear her sigh? Mulder considered how Scully seemed more willing than ever to follow him. Now, she seemed invested, even with her interest in helping him work through his trauma. It couldn’t be that her interest in helping him was only in relation to their shared past, their friendship. So many weeks had passed for her and so much of her life he had missed. Did he have a right to demand she make a choice? Did he have it in him to take that leap of faith and put himself out there? Was he just going to sit there and let another night go by without even asking? Just let her walk into that apartment without saying anything? 

When they pulled up to Scully’s apartment, Mulder gathered up some courage and asked, “Do you still have my files on your laptop? When I was searching through the archives today I didn’t see them and I had some on my hard drive that left with my computer.”

“Actually, they took my laptop as well… buuuuut, I did have a backup hard drive and I was able to reload it into my new laptop.” Scully gave him a smile that sent a cascading warmth through his insides. “Come on up and get what you need.”

Don’t tempt me Scully.

Once inside, Scully took off her coat and headed to the bathroom. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to use my laptop. You already know the password.”

Pushing the image of Scully standing under a hot steaming shower naked and wet out of his mind, Mulder headed straight to her desk and sat down on the hard backed wood chair. A couple swipes at the keyboard and a quick search and Mulder was faced with two folders with his name on it. He considered doing a round of eenie meenie, but in the end just clicked on the top folder. The file names were all dates. In fact there was a file for every day going as far back as a week after his abduction. It had his name on it, so he picked one at random and opened it. 

 Mulder, 

I have to believe you’re out there, alive. That belief is what keeps me moving, keeps me taking those leaps to solve the next X-File. I miss you with every breath, and I refuse to give up hope. We will be together. 

Today’s case led us to Indiana, you’re going to laugh when you hear what I told Doggett….   

 He closed that file and opened another. He didn’t want to know about her and Doggett. There were more, lots more, covering cases, days off, shopping, hospital visits. Mulder couldn’t read fast enough and couldn’t stop either. He opened one dated during the time he was buried in the ground. It read:

 Mulder,

Some days I question why I continue writing to you. In the beginning I believe it was because I didn’t want to let go. Other days it felt like you were closer when I did, like  somehow, you could still hear me. Now maybe I write them so my baby may one day read them and know what you meant to me, what our relationship was like so one day they might be blessed to find the same. I prayed daily for your return and lately, I pray even harder.

I was going through my old answering machine tapes, my voicemails from my cell. I decided to take all the ones I have and put them on a cassette tape so the baby can hear your voice, know what you sounded like when I tell them about you. Tell them of the love of my life, my perfect other, and how I found him and how he gave his life for us, so that we may live. 

I spoke in the past about driving in our endless straight line and now that I can look back on it with a clear mind, I understand that night in Oregon when you said it had to end sometime, in essence, you were throwing me out of the car. 

I became pregnant with the full intent to raise this child on my own, to take on the full responsibility. Marriage was nothing I ever strived for even if the possibility of being married never strayed. I put myself, my career, the work, before those things. It was something that might or could, but nothing I truly needed. Now, when I look in the mirror, I know, you were the only one I would have ever considered that kind of commitment with. Now, that chapter of my life is forever closed without ever being written. You were my partner Mulder, in work, in love, in life.

 “Did you find what you were searching for?” Scully said, and Mulder practically jumped right out of his skin. He spun in the chair and stood to face her. His fears turned to joy. She was beautiful, radiant, standing there in her robe, casually drying her crimson locks with a towel. And those legs, those little legs, and how they felt wrapped around him… Scully in love.. with him . His heart swelled, lighting him from head to toe, spreading warmth in its wake. A kaleidoscope of emotions ran over every part of him like a raging river, healing the cracks, filling and overflowing the voids.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice low as he barely got the sound out. He had found exactly what he was searching for. He cupped her face as she searched his eyes. He watched the desire that raged in him ignite inside her. Losing that last thread of restraint, he tilted her head up towards him and his lips crashed on top of hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth, his jaw rocking in time with hers, their kisses desperate, almost frantic.

Despite the insatiable hunger he felt, he pulled back to judge her reaction. Her eyes were soft in their gaze, but then her lids lowered and her eyes transformed to blue steel. Before he was able to speak, her fingers were in his hair, pulling him back down, kissing him hard, deep, unleashing unrestrained need and a passion that sent the crown of his cock swelling and brushing the seam of his boxers. 

Mulder groaned and gently pushed her away before it went any further. “Is it safe to..”

“The doctor has me on no restrictions,” she answered back hastily. “I just don’t want to move too fast for you. I want you to be ready.”

Mulder laced his hands through her amber locks, knocking her towel to the floor, kissing her again as his pent up feelings burst inside his chest, exploring her mouth, entwining their tongues, caressing her face.

He felt her fingers at his waistband, undoing his button and fly..

“Scully,” he whispered against her mouth and her hand cupped his bare erection. Skin on skin. Pleasure surged in his nerve endings and throbbed in his veins. “There’s not a part of me that didn’t miss this.”

Fuck . Scully closed her grip around his cock and stroked the sleek hot steel up and down. Mulder breathed hard and Scully moaned.

“Let’s go to bed,” she said in a heady rush of impatience. 

They kissed their way down the hall, Mulder almost tripping as he had to slouch as they walked to keep them from separating, Pulling off his shirt, hopping on one leg as he stripped off his pants. 

The way Scully’s eyes widened when he took off his boxers and freed his cock made him feel ten feet tall. She gave out a warning when he removed her robe that “her body had changed,” and he replied as honestly as he could. “Scully, I’m harder than a male porn star on his first day of work. Yes, it’s because it’s you, but it’s also because you’re more beautiful than the last time I laid eyes on you.”

Scully’s cheeks blushed and her pupils dilated. He matched her smile, both of them recognizing how much was at stake, and how much they both needed this. She turned away from him and he helped her remove her robe. He combed the soft strands of her hair to expose her exquisite neck, trailing soft kisses up the sensitive skin, leaving a wake of raised flesh.  

His hands traveled down her body, reacquainting with her new curves: her breasts, her waist, her ass. Soft noises released from the back of Scully’s throat as his fingers brushed over the inside of her thighs. Lust surged through him at the sound, and his length nuzzled the small of her back. Scully gripped the footboard of the bed. 

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Mulder, please, I want you inside me.”

Her insistence only made him grow harder, but he knew it wasn’t a sprint. “H-how.. What would be most comfortable for you?”

“I think on the bed, on my knees. I can hold onto the footboard, the headboard is a little too high, and if I lean forward… What?”

“Nothing,” Mulder said, but he couldn’t prevent the upturn of his lips. “It’s.. well, you’ve given this some thought.”

Scully lifted a brow. “During that second trimester, you have no idea.”

He helped her onto the bed and followed close behind, holding his hands at her waist. Scully spread her legs and his tip grazed her. Scully looked back at him. “Easy, Mulder.” 

On her knees, and hunched forward, her ass in full glorious view, Mulder gripped his length, lined them up, and hesitantly pushed in. 

“Oh God, Mulder,” he heard Scully moan. 

Sharp pleasure bolted through him. “I know. You’re incredible.”

Easing back, slowly he pushed in again, a couple more inches before easing back again. 

“More, Mulder,” Scully gasped, reaching back, her fingers finding his hair, tugging and twisting. “Faster.”  

He was so worried about hurting her, but his excitement built and her tight, wet warmth around him only hastened it. He groaned and flexed his hips as another wave of pleasure hit him. She felt so good. The sight of them joining almost too much. This was Scully. They were finally together. 

Soon they found a languid pace, her hips doing most of the work, him aiding her movement, pulling it out and letting her push back on him to the depth she craved.  Until her knuckles whitened against the footboard. “God, Mulder. I really missed you.” Her walls pulsed and squeezed him tight and he groaned. 

With a few light thrusts her body heated and swelled snug around his cock. It made them slide easier, faster. Scully’s jaw went slack as her eyes closed, tightening as she pushed back against him. Her breath was ragged and he could see her concentrating on her movements. It was intense and exquisite and the feelings produced inside him made Mulder moan louder.

He closed his eyes and tightened his fingers on her hips, losing himself in the feeling. Again and again, more and more. He missed everything about this. Her legs tensed and he felt her sucking him further inside. He remembered that feeling. She was close. A few determined thrusts and she cried out, her muscles pulsing hard and rhythmically around him. Mulder’s forehead leaned into her shoulder and he reached for the footboard, covering her hand with his as he shouted, pouring his soul, his love, into her. 

“Scully, Scully.” He kept coming, for what seemed like an eternity. It left him spent and shaky. He had to catch himself for a moment, relishing in the feel, and calming his heart.  “Everything okay?” As he asked her he could hear the deep octaves in his own voice.

“Mulder,” she breathed out and her blue eyes sparkled at him. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sated look on her face as she made her way to the bathroom. When she returned, he helped her back onto the bed. 

They stared into each other’s eyes as they laid on their sides face to face. Scully softly caressed his cheek and he mellowed into the feeling of her fingertips across his stubble. He pressed his face into her touch, drowning in it. Mulder leaned over, his lips a breath away from hers, and he stopped to feel their familiar pull. An attraction like no other. Scully raised her face to his, brushing his lips lightly, coaxing him. He kissed her even softer in return, teasing her like she did him until her mouth opened and he could taste her. Scully moaned quietly at the contact. Not knowing exactly what to do with his hand, he used it to prop up his head, the other he ran gently into her hair, stroking it softly.  

Without words she tucked her head under his chin, her nose nuzzling his Adam's apple. Scully curled into his torso while he rubbed her back, pulling her carefully towards him until the bump of her belly rested against his tight rippled abs. From through the window he could see the last vestiges of light, painting the sky in orange and reds. White contrails highlighting the color in soft wisps. 

He was the only one she would ever consider marrying. 

Elation washed over his body. I would marry you, Scully. And raise that baby as mine, no matter how it started its life. 

As if he had said it aloud she stirred and opened her eyes. He kissed her forehead once more and returned her drowsy smile. Tugging the comforter over her, they snuggled into their cocoon. Scully’s eyes closed and she mumbled right before her breathing evened out, “Don’t go, Mulder.”

I don’t plan on it, Scully. Not ever.

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[cargopantsman]

Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here

Trigger warnings: All of them, because I am lazy. Also none of this is sensical.

Utter, hyper-caffeinated brain noise.

The problem with the concept of a "sense of self" is it already tries to concretize an amorphous abstract. It makes us want to point at some thing and say "Well... that's me." Whether it is a set of ideals that we try to live by, a set of activities that brings us a sense of joy or fulfillment, or, gods forbid, and entirely different and other person that "completes us."

I've always had an affinity for trickster figures and shapeshifters. The wearers of masks, the truthful liars, the artisans of duality, yada, yada. Since I was a child my first instinct has always been to blend in. If into the background, great, but if need be, if I needed to blend into the social fabric around me, I could do that too. To throw this into the high school backdrop; I wasn't a social butterfly, I was shy as could be, but I got along with the jocks, the goths, the nerds, the art freaks, the band kids, the preps, the whatever. Where ever I was I could fake that I belonged there. I was comfortable drifting in between worlds. (Looking back, I could have caused a lot more chaos with the information I was privy to at the time...[Oh, there's a constant point. I'm good at keeping secrets, keeping confidence. I'll lie my ass off to keep a secret.]) Does any of that really help drive a sense of self though? When your natural instinct is to mirror, to blend, to fade? When your point of pride is walking into a room unnoticed and, even better, leaving a party unseen? Does being a ghost count as an identity?

"Expression of Will" comes to mind... what does that mean? Ok, so some abstract thing is inside of you and you manifest it objectly outwardly. I was an artist. I made images in my head and "kind of" manifest them on paper. Some times people see that paper...  I was a writer... images in my head "became" words and some people saw that. I combined them into comics. Some people Saw that. Is that a lasting affect? Maybe the fights I've been into?! That time in 2nd grade someone was picking on a friend and I laid them out... the time in 8th grade someone was picking on me and clocked them down. Or in high school when someone decided to start some rumors and I held them up by their throat in the air until they turned blue? That was an inward thing that manifested outwardly. Nevermind good or bad, but was any of that... me?

Hmm. The beast. The primal... come back to that later.

"Expression of Will," "Expression of Will," "Expression of Will" ... What the fuck even is "Will"? Is this why philosophers get their heads so far up their ass? Is it a desire? The will to live.... living requires eating and the amount of times I forget to even do that... Maybe been looking at the phrase all wrong...

Will to Live (noun) It isn't a thing.

Will (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Why does that sound better?

Desire to Live (noun)

Desire (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Okay, that feels better even, but still... Sense of self, will, desire, expressions thereof. Are these just the aimless desires and wills? The fleeting flights of frivolous fancies festering forlornly in frontal cortices?

The self with the will can direct the desires towards living. "Get in the fucking robot Shinji!" "I don't wanna"

The (ghost) with the (strength) can direct the (impulses) towards (being). Getting too close to a concept of a soul on that one huh?

Forget self. It's a useless moniker right now. There is no self. It's just this mind alone for the first time in its entire life. (Not alone alone, there are friends, but they've learned more about me in the past two weeks than the past 6 years so...) "What did they learn?" asked the projection of self that defines itself by interactions with other.

I thought we were forgetting self.... not an option really. Sentience is a bitch like that. But they've learned I'll put up with a lot of bullshit under the guise of strength and integrity when I should've callously called this whole thing ages ago. That I can shut myself down completely in the interest of bodily-self preservation. (Not Self-self preservation, fuck the English language). What did I sacrifice? What did I shut down?

Everything.

That is less than helpful.

The Beast. Vince. Your Shadow.

My Shadow...

What do you desire?

Blood in the cut, tears in their eyes, power over someone that wants that power over them...

Do you want that? I don't want it, I just need it. No... I want it.

Is that all you are? A sadist? An animal?

Maybe... probably not though. A caretaker, and a sparring partner. A trickster and a shapeshifter. A crafter whose tools are destruction.

Next problem, grandeur. Mythologizing everything. But how to see a thing if you don't blow it up/magnify it?

You lack a sense of self because no one ever tested your sense of self. No one actually fought you for who you are. To find out who you are. The ex didn't. An old friend did until she got scared by what she found there.

You don't want to be yourself because it's not nice is it? You were raised to be nice.

College. I controlled the group. Never hit anyone after high school aside from set matches in classes or sparring for funsies. They all saw my eyes and stopped if they were getting out of hand.

The Dom-Friend.

Don't use the d-word on me.

Destroyer? Yeah, that one's fine. That one fits. He says as he carelessly tosses lit matches around his entire life. Can we bring up the phoenix or is that too grandiose? Why shouldn't it be grandiose? We spend every day of our lives going through the same kind of tedious bullshit all the time why not make our inner lives a bit bigger, a bit richer?

A bit darker.

Why do you want them to bleed? Hurt and comfort. That's a big theme, a trope if you will. Why not have both at the same? Why not let her think that I'm about to kill her but let her rest in the trust that I won't? Why not let me think that I'm about to break her while believing she is the most precious thing in the world?

Caretaker. A caretaker kills all the time. Tearing out weeds, uprooting the prized plant to move it to a better place for its growth.

Growth.

The self isn't going to be found just in ones self... not in another either. No, the self has to be found in everything. The things one wants to run to and run from. The soul (oops) is formed by what it crashes into right? The mind recoils from traumas races towards panaceas, why not, if one can, flip the polarity on the two. Bring the darkness screaming into the light so you can see it, bring the light quivering into the darkness so it can loose its terrifying brillance. Balance in all things right?

You're not a very positive person, they say. No... I'm not. It lashes out in bad ways sometimes, sure. Control, control, you must learn control. But being negative isn't bad. Not if you can grow from it. No plant can survive the sun for 24 hours. Trees sleep in the winter. We sleep, we heal, we grow.

Self-Destruction!! That's a fun one... seven fucking months downing a bottle of whisky a night. Whooo boy. Do Not Recommend.

Got a nice stay in the underworld though and trudged up a lot of shit. Now I'm sitting here with my ears ringing because I finally hit the personal limit on Monsters and my brain is overclocked enough I can finally see shit at 4 angles at the same time. I am a god damned quantum supercomputer of emotions right now.

Faith and faithlessness are the same thing. Have faith, trust the future, don't expect anything, don't plan your now for your future. Sounds sadly like live in the moment type bullshit, but life is weird and people are complex. Shifting drifting clueless animals that want to be safe but don't want to get stuck in anothers arms even when there is one whose arms are so safe.

The damage runs deep... and two people with damage running that deep. Hmm. How much healing can falling do? The other just puts a bandage over a puncture wound and both try to ignore it, but then the blood gets pumping, the heart pounds and poisons surge to the surface. It's neither one's fault really. Life is a trial of knives and we don't always have time or concern to tend the wounds properly. There's always something else that needs to be taken care of first.

Divorce is a helluva drug. It is maddening, the freedom to finally to be yourself is line having the lineart stripped off, there is a terrifying infinity in front of you and the only thing to do for awhile is melt. Let the slings and arrows just pierce and sink in. Anyone else tries to push the sludge of you into a shape might get hurt when they find the arrows. I want to go absolutely feral in a way. In a way the whole COVID mess is keeping me under lock and key so I'm just prowling around the empty house like I always have been, but now there's some sense... of purpose.

I'm raging against any depression, the executive dysfunction is going to have a talking to. The sense of self is going to be found in stripping this house down to bare walls and making a blank canvas. Bring everything down, ruin it all, start again.

My self is emptiness, it always has been. I can be anything, but I should be wary of ever wanting to be something. (My career options are AWESOME). But this is a different emptiness than before. Before I pulled the trigger and splattered the brains of the marriage across the floor I was just a void, and inky black pit of nothingness. Somehow, having the Shadow rise up and finally start getting along with the rest of me, the emptiness isn't.... void. It's just nascent possibility and that shouldn't scare me.

It does, of course, terrify me. First time in 40 years being legitimately alone is terrifying, should have done this kinda thing when I was 20, but... I was an idiot back then (60 year old me laughs from the future). But I think I can get a grip on the concept that "I" don't exist, but I'm real... ever changing ever dynamic, not who I was while I was married, but a mix of the me before, a angry beast now, and something yet unseen in the future.

#personal bs #vince rising #dan falling #don't try this at home kids