#THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 300 WORDS LONG | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lostinforestbound · 1 hour

Text

It's here after many weeks, the 10k one-shot to celebrate 200 followers, but I suppose it's also to celebrate 300 followers as well! I meant for 300 to be a different celebration but that's okay! I'm sure I'll make something else for the next milestone!

Requested Tags: @dutifullylazybread @heytheresunflower @barbwillbrb

Rolan/GN!Tav

I Shouldn't Love You Like You Are Mine

Rolan has too much to do with so little time. Becoming the new Master of Ramazith's tower is proving more complicated than the wizard have ever thought. On top of it all, he has a deep infatuation with Tav, the hero who saved him and his family many times. He knows he has no chance with them, so he has settled on hopelessly pining and dreaming. One day, Tav rushes into the shop in a panic, and he could have never in his wildest fantasies expect what they request of him.

Word Count: 10k (Don't like Tumblr? Read on AO3 instead!)

Relevant Tags: Rolan's POV, Makeout Diversion, Smut, Lorroakan Bashing

Beta Reader: @el-tur-el (Thank you so much for your help T!!!)

NSFW under cut, Minors DNI

The air is stale, the scent of electricity still strong in the space that surrounds him, the taste of blood on his tongue from when his sharp teeth gashed the inside of his mouth. He's sore, bruised, burned, somewhat electrocuted by the way some of his muscles spasm still, but he's alive. Tav is long gone with their companions, and all that is left is him and a dead man.

When staring down at the body of his spine-broken master, Rolan is not sure of how he's supposed to feel. At first, he felt a genuine joy that he had not felt in many years. The adrenaline was still high at the time, and he proudly remarked that he would turn the tower inside out to find its secrets and share them with the world. He always has been ambitious, that is what got him this far, after all. Tav seems happy for him, and he ignores how it made his heart pound even more.

As he stands alone in the room, he questions whether he's supposed to feel something now that the joy has faded within the span of minutes. Some kind of liberation? Or perhaps his emotions are fighting each other in his psyche, making him feel everything and nothing all at once. The man who tortured him, who beat him like he was a misbehaving dog he didn't even want, who refused to teach him anything about wielding the weave, lays dead by his feet. He can't help but think that he looks pathetic now, face twisted in permanent fear even after death.

He spits on his face as a final 'fuck you'. He hopes he rots in the deepest pits of the hells that he was once dragged to.

Running his stiff hands down his face, he tries to think of what to do first. He has to get rid of this body, it can't stay here lying around. It will decay and stink more than Lorroakan already has. Grabbing a fistful of the dead man's hair, he drags his body towards the balcony. He could throw his body over the railing, it would be insult to injury, but no. He will do something much worse.

He digs into the stray backpack at the edge of the railing and takes out a disintegration scroll, one that he knew Lorroakan hid out here as a backup plan in case a fight doesn't go his way. Without thinking too much on it, he casts the spell on the body, and Lorroakan disappears into ash.

His former teacher was now erased, made into nothing, and no one will remember or miss him. A fate worse than death, in Rolan's opinion.

Almost numbly, he heads back inside the main room and tries to find cleaning supplies. There's so much blood on the floor, and it did not help he made a trail while dragging the body. He wishes Tav was still here so he could demand they clean their mess up, where he wouldn't notice his tail flicking back and forth in irritation. Would they bother listening to him? Maybe not, but at least they would be there, just a little longer. Just enough time for him to pine once more.

Lia is right, he's a very selfish creature.

A couple of mage hands bring a bucket of water and an unused mop over. He is taken aback, as he thought they would have disappeared in Lorroakan's absence. Although, these could have been Ramazith's, wherever that wizard is now. It doesn't matter, either way. They're his now.

He dunks the mop into the water and starts swiping across the floor, noticing how as he cleans, the white cloth of the strands turn red. There's so much godsdamned blood, it will take him forever to clear the mess. There's a lot of blood on him, too. Specks and splatters of blood paint his hands crimson, long dried onto his red skin. His mentor's blood. Lorroakan's blood.

He helped murder a man, today. He killed someone. His blood is on his hands as much as it may be on the Nightsong's. Or Tav's.

An unsuspected shudder runs through his body, and he feels sick. He chalks it up to his adrenaline rush going down too quickly, ignoring the feeling as he swipes the mop across the floor.

The hairs on his neck stand on end as he feels the crackle of the weave, warning him someone is coming through the portal. Part of him hopes it would be Tav; he wants to talk to them again. Maybe they can help him with the cleanup, laughing about how they left him here without realizing it. He would stumble over his words like a fool, trying to be impressive in his pathetic state.

It's not Tav that arrives though, he recognizes Lia's quick footsteps anywhere. She's always been the fastest between him and Cal; they both could never beat her in a race, but he swears he lets her win.

"Rolan!" She shouts, quickly coming up to him along with Cal, whose heavier footsteps are right behind hers. "Finally! You kept talking up this tower and now we get to see it-"

"Wait, is that blood?" Cal immediately interrupts, face falling.

He must look horrendous, Rolan realizes. He got so busy cleaning the floor that he didn't even bother washing up first. Based on when he looked at himself that morning, the bruises should still be very prominent. Shit.

Lia bristles when she cups his face, looking at his injuries. "What is this?"

The silence that falls between them is telling. He knows she figured it out a long time ago, but she wants to hear him say it. "I'm fine, Lia. He was a horrible mentor, but it's not my blood on the ground."

"Tav told us they helped you kick his ass." Cal comments, trying to lighten their moods, "Looks like you did just that if this blood isn't yours."

"You should've killed him earlier, idiot!" She spits.

"I know, I know." He mutters, trying to speak even as Lia turns his face around to see the damage. "It's good to see you two."

"We missed you, brother," Cal says, gently moving Lia away and hugging him. "Please don't do that again. It was hard, without you."

Rolan lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding, hugging Cal tightly. Lia joins in quickly after. When was the last time they held each other like this? He doesn't remember.

It feels nice.

While it doesn't last long, it is more than satisfactory for him. They help him with the clean up, Lia helping with the blood while Cal sweeps the floor with a broom. They take on more workload than Rolan wants, but he can't argue with them when they practically plead for him to rest. To be honest, he's unbelievably sore, and maybe sitting down for a bit wouldn't hurt.

It only takes his body a few minutes until it's antsy again, so he joins them quickly after.

And then he never stops moving.

He cleans, reorganizes, and keeps walking despite his beaten body screaming at him to stop. He can't stop, because if he does, he knows he will not want to get back up. He'll crash, and he can't afford that.

At the end of it all, he enters Lorroakan's room without thinking and is frozen in place. He's been in here before, but never for good reasons, only beatings. Is this not his room now that the original master is gone? But it reeks of his old mentors stench. He scrunches his nose as he looks at all the personalized decorations. They're hideous, all of the colors too bright to stare at, and most not matching with each other in terms of palette. There's not even a real theme and it makes him irate.

He remembers being beaten on this very floor for messing up a verbal component.

Enraged, he marches up to the bed and tears off the sheets, making a point to dig his claws into them so they would rip. The pillows are next, tossing them across the room and onto the floor. He'll need to replace every damn thing if he wants to use this bed. To use this room.

Unwanted memories start to flood into his mind as he tears the place apart, most of them being on the ground, where Lorroakan said he belonged. Beaten, burned, electrocuted, sometimes poisoned. A place where he was at his most pathetic. He often has nightmares about those late nights, but some of the worst ones were Tav walking in and seeing him like that, utterly broken on floor. They would never see him the same, and he doesn't know whether he prefers them to be disgusted by him or to feel pity.

He's close to a breakdown, having trouble getting air into his lungs before Cal and Lia comes in. "Rolan?"

With a slow sigh, he turns to look at them. "Why are you two up?"

Lia's eyes trail around the destroyed room, seeming to note the claw marks on the bed sheets discarded on the carpet. "Couldn't sleep." She says simply, giving a knowing look.

"Can we sleep with you?" Cal asks, rubbing the back of his neck, "Like when we were kids? Just for one night."

His jaw moves to start a pointless argument, but then snaps shut. They're both not children anymore, they can sleep by themselves. He can sleep by himself. However, he cannot deny that he craves the affection it would bring. He hasn't been this long without them, no matter how much he complained about them being clingy before.

"All right." He says quietly after taking a deep breath, "Not in here, though. Come."

He quietly leads them to the comparatively bland room Lorroakan gave him in Sorcerous Sundries. It isn't terrible, but he realizes that the bed is way too small for the three of them. Thankfully, he had a remedy. He adjusts an enlarge spell and makes the bed wider, and they all settle down on top of it easily.

Lia makes him stay in the middle while she settles on his right side, Cal climbing over carefully to lay on his left. Honestly, he misses having them so close.

"Rolan?" Cal speaks up as Lia pulls up the blanket.

"Hm?"

"Can you make a light show for a little bit?"

Rolan can't help but smile, slowly closing his eyes before opening them up again and raising his hands. "Any requests?"

"Make it look like flowers blooming." Lia says instantly, draping an arm around his middle.

He huffs before murmuring a few words, a burst of colors appearing in the air. Like asked, they take form of flowers blooming, petals falling near them gently. It's gorgeous.

It fades after a minute though, the exhaustion finally catching up to him as he falls asleep. If Cal and Lia were bothered by it not lasting, they don’t say a word.

For the first time in years, his night is not plagued by nightmares.

---

As soon as he wakes, Rolan does not stop moving.

He's the new master of Ramazith's tower, there is so much to do with so little time. The Absolute's army is on its way and he needs to gather everything he can to protect his siblings, and to protect Tav.

Tav doesn't need protecting, he knows that all too well, but he needs to do something. Anything at all. He needs to prepare the arcane cannon, but there is so much research to be done. On top of it all, he wants to be able to focus on his studies, but then run a shop at the same time.

He barely eats the toasted bread he haphazardly made for himself, too distracted by the logs Lorroakan left behind. There's so many customers he needs to take care of, including deliveries. Maybe he could repurpose the animated armor to make the deliveries, but that could be shaky as they're unstable. Well, Lorroakan's magic was always weakly done...he could rework the sigils. He'll have to rework everything in this place, actually.

Gods, everything is such a fucking mess. He knows he needs help, but respectfully, he wants everything a certain way and his siblings won't be able to give him what he wants. Tav would be able to understand-

He stops reading, surprising himself with his thought. Tav? Why would he think Tav would know how he likes things? It's ridiculous. But he can imagine it, them carrying books around with whatever means and placing them in alphabetical order, then by subject. They would tease him about being so stingy with what books go where on the bookshelf.

And they would laugh. Not quite at him, but laugh nonetheless. It's such a perfect sound in his ears, and the thought of it makes the tip of his tail flick about. Damn it all!

He's been thinking about them a lot, unfortunately. Ever since the Shadow Cursed Lands, where they succeeded in saving his siblings where he could not, an infatuation began to settle in his heart. He had half the mind to possibly confess, but immediately pushed it out of his mind. There was no possible way they would feel the same. He's too bitter, too arrogant, and he saw the way they looked at Gale, someone who is much more accomplished than he is. It is a fondness that he never received once in his life, and certainly not by them. He was jealous of it, but jealousy is an ugly little trait to have, so he gave up on dwelling.

The feelings never went away, no matter how much he wants them too.

He wants to say more to them, especially after they saved his sorry tail again during the fight up in the tower. They left before he could, he was too dazed staring at the mess the Nightsong made of his former master. He regrets being too out of it to say anything proper.

What would he have told them anyways? He doubts anything worthwhile. Probably a weak apology and an even weaker attempt to express his feelings. In the end, they would reject him, no doubt. He messed up too many times, back in the Shadow Cursed Lands, even if they accepted his apology for lashing out.

So he continues on and tries to forget, organizing the scrolls at the front counter of Sorcerous Sundries. His nose scrunches in irritation at the disorganization of it all. Was Lorroakan always like this? They aren't even categorized in the right sections, its horrendous. Diabolical. A sin on this shop.

Frustration straining his brow, he lays them flat on the counter to decipher where they should go, ignoring the ache that sits subtly in his bones. He hasn't had the chance to heal himself, so the bruises are still very prominent. It doesn't matter, he can take care of it later.

He knows deep in his heart that later will never come.

In the middle of his thought, one of the front doors burst open. Someone runs in and...well, he doesn't recognize them, but he does see the illusion aura that surrounds their figure. He's about to yell at them about their audacity, but their disguise instantly fades when they close.

It's Tav, in all of their wonderful glory.

"Tav?" He asks dumbly as they rush the to the counter.

They urgently hop over the counter and grab his wrist, and he actively has to suppress a wince by the force. "I need help. Hurry!"

Without a chance of responding, they drag him along towards one of the rooms along the side of the shop. They practically throw him in there.

The door slam briefly echoes in the room, and he barely has time to react before the back of his thighs meet the desk inside. He hisses, the bruises still fresh, “What in the hells are you doing?”

“I need a diversion. I was disguised but the Flaming Fist followed me.” They state, starting to open up the front of their tunic to make a mess. “Let me kiss you.”

He hates how the tip of his tail stands at attention, and thank the gods they don’t notice it. “What.”

“We’re kissing. Now. Just-“ They groan, loosening their shirt more to make themselves look like a mess. “-I need to make it look like I was busy. Rolan, please?”

He should say no. Everything is screaming at him to say no. But he is a weak man, and he’s dreamed that he could have them in his arms. Or be in their arms, it didn’t matter to him.

As soon as he gives a nod, they grab the front of his collar and pull him in, kiss searing. It takes everything in his being not to moan at the contact, especially when they loosen his hair properly to make it fall past his ears. They don’t touch them, much to his relief.

Pretending to put on the same act as them, he presses into them enthusiastically, letting their tongue in when it pries at his teeth. He fell out of control so quickly that he doesn’t know how to pick himself back up. He had half the mind to let them have their way with him. Blood rushes down south when their hand slides up his clothed stomach, sweat beading on the back of his neck as the muscles tense and quiver. Their touch was firm, demanding, and the voice in his head screams at him to not deny them for a moment. How long has he been waiting for something like this to happen?

Before he could panic about his dick twitching in interest at their ministrations, the door flies open. It startles Tav enough to where they bite his lip on accident, making him jolt.

A group of Flaming Fist freeze at the door, taking in the scene before them.

Rolan reacts quickly with his typical sneer, sitting up straighter and trying to ignore Tav being between his legs. “Do you mind?”

“Well, sir-“ One starts but the other, a commander most likely, cuts them off.

“There’s a suspected thief that we believe ran into here.”

“So you decided to almost break down one of my doors?” He questions, making a show of magic to fix his hair up. Tav moves away with their arms crossed in front of their chest, looking annoyed.

“We apologize, sir, but this thief is-“

"Excuse me?" Tav states, putting on an offended face. "How dare you! I am not a thief! I've been in this shop for a while now, unless you are accusing me of stealing from here?"

Rolan comes in before the Commander starts to retort. “My partner, no, my associate could not have been a ‘thief’ as they have been here with me for the past fifteen minutes. And this chase happened how long ago now?”

One of the other Flaming Fists glances up at the clock in the room. “…Five minutes.“

The man to their right smacks them upside the head.

“And what did they look like?” Rolan continues.

“A pale half-orc, short hair with a blue blouse, but-“

He raises a hand to silence them, as if they were misbehaving children. “Then I believe we are done here, as my associate is wearing nothing of the sort and does not look like what you described. Now, unless you are here to buy something or set a donation for the rebuilding fund of the shop, you will kindly leave the premises of Sorcerous Sundries this instant. I expect a formal apology by the end of this week.”

In all honesty, it's funny how lost these Flaming Fist look. They seem unsure of what to do. As Tav scoffs and looks away, it seems as though they're trying not to laugh. He has to fight the smile that's teasing the corners of his mouth, staring at all the blustering Fists as they figure out what to do. Reluctantly, frustrated and angry, they exit out of the office and leave the shop with their tail in between their legs.

He brushes himself off when the heat dies down, finally able to compose himself. “What the hells were you doing? Are you mad?!”

They finally let out the laugh they were holding, straightening themselves out. “I blew up a Fireworks shop. An Absolute Cultist was running it! Who knew? To answer your second question, maybe a little bit. It's been a tough day.”

"And you thought you could just run in here while I was working? Making the Flaming Fist dirty my floors after I just had Cal clean it?!"

"I'm sorry Rolan, I panicked. I wasn't thinking." They say, seeming genuinely apologetic.

He could barely focus, mind still catching up with the events. Is he truly this easy? All they had to do was demand a kiss and he would follow them, like a lovesick puppy? He's ashamed of himself, and he didn't even notice them speaking again.

"Rolan?"

"What?"

"How are you?" They ask sincerely.

He straightens himself up and gets back into his usual facade. "I am well enough. This shop and the tower is a horrid mess, so I've already been spending time reorganizing the texts. Lorroakan barely knew his alphabet. They were not even organized by subject!"

They laugh at that, and gods, the sound makes his heart pound, but afterwards they frown at him, eyes scanning to his face. "You're still bruised."

"I haven't had the time to take care of them. There is too much to do."

They dig into their pack and hold out what he recognizes as a superior healing potion. "Here. If you're going to work, at least heal up. Did I hurt you earlier?"

He slowly takes it, perplexed, "It is nothing I can't handle."

"I'm sorry." They murmur.

"I appreciate your apology, and I forgive you." He states, uncorking the bottle and drinking down the potion.

Instantly, the deep set ache and soreness of his form fades to something less painful. Its like a warm hug, and he feels energized.

They give him a soft set smile as he places the bottle down on the desk. "You look a lot better."

Gods, if he could, he would crush the fluttering feeling the compliment gave him. "Excuse you, I always look better. Now, besides that whole mess that you created, was there anything else you needed from me?”

"I want to make purchases...and barter?" They squeak out.

He sighs heavily, opening the door back up for them, "Of course you do. All right, what do you have for trade then?"

They head out to the counter with a skip to their step. "I promise it's worth it!"

---

Tav ended up having plenty of things to trade, including heavy set armor, rings, and magic items they don't need anymore. Thankfully not all fortune is lost, as they give some coin for high level spell scrolls. A Globe of Invulnerability...how interesting. He knows they are out and about adventuring, but what would they need that kind of spell for? How do they even have the gold to afford it??

They were out the door before he can ask them, clearly in a hurry to get somewhere. "Thank you Rolan!"

A little defeated, he continues on with the rest of his day. Organizing, organizing, and even more organizing. This place is such a shit show, it will take him ages before everything is how he wants it to be. Cal always teased him about having his socks color coded in his drawers.

He plops onto a fresh bed at the end of the day. This was Lorroakan's bed, but Cal and Lia helped him out with cleaning the room. New mattress, new sheets, new blankets, and even new pillows. They tore down the hideous tapestries and paintings he had, and he plans to change the wall into a new color. He still needs to personalize the room to how he likes, but now it was his. No trace of Lorroakan is found here. He idly wonders how Tav decorated their room, or if they have a home to go back to. They're still a mystery to him.

As he lays there, staring at the patterned ceiling, he finds it strange he has a room to himself. It's nice, and he's never had more privacy than now. Sometimes Lorroakan entered in his room at odd hours to start a lesson at his leisure. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now due to the man's random visits. Now here he is, laying his bed, with his nights uninterrupted for the most part.

He has privacy.

...He’s pent up, isn’t he?

Through all the beatings and stress, he never took time to himself and get off. He was worried about getting caught by his mentor. On top of it all, he was too exhausted and hurt to even do much for himself, some nights barely having energy to bathe. But now…

With a sigh, he summons a mage hand to grab a book for him. When was the last time he read a smut book? Half a year, maybe more? Even then, he wouldn’t indulge too much as he never had a lot of privacy. With this large bedroom, the walls being silenced, and the time he now has, he will indulge for a little bit. For one night.

As he reads, there’s not much to go off. This one is poorly written, but he can at least give himself an idea. His mind sketches out a neutral form, no identifying…parts, yet. He’s indecisive, but he’s sure he’ll come up with someone satisfactory for the night.

Usually, his fantasies contain anonymous people with no face, or they wear a mask. It’s less embarrassing than thinking of someone directly. Sometimes they take him from behind, pinning the back of his neck to a table while they rail into him. Others he has someone under him, thrusting into them and littering bites on their neck.

For now, he imagines a person of no specific gender yet, holding him close in a crushing grip and devouring his mouth. It leaves him no room to breathe as he’s pinned to the wall, their thigh between his legs pressing up against his growing erection. Heat gathers south embarrassingly quickly, the tent of his pants tightening. What is Tav like in bed?

As soon as that question pops into his head, the blank person he tried to fantasize about turns into Tav. It shocks him how vivid it is, and he immediately sits up, book falling flat on the mattress as he drops it. No no no, absolutely not. They’re a friend.

A friend who pulled him in by the collar to kissed him with reckless abandon. A friend that was ready to pin him down on his desk. A friend who stroked a finger along his jaw to help him relax into their mouth.

Hells.

His fingers trail down his stomach and into his trousers, taking himself in hand. What’s the harm of indulging in this? They kissed, after all. All of their wonderful features are fresh in his mind. As he teases the underside of his shaft, he imagined it was their hand instead of his own. Precum was already beading at the tip, and he uses it to slick up his cock. He still feels their hands on him, pressing and demanding. He wonders what they would’ve done if they had more time. Are they gentle or rough when they stroke? He’s not sure whether he prefers one or the other yet.

None of this would happen, they have many suitors at their disposal. But damn it all, he could dream that they chose him, in the end.

Gods.

He covers his mouth tightly with his free hand, almost painfully as he thrusts up into his other one. This room is covered in silencing sigils, it’s not like anyone would hear him from the outside, but even he doesn’t want to hear his shameful sounds.

He feverishly switches to a different fantasy, this one containing Tav once more, though this time he isn’t complaining.

They’re both deep in the woods, away from the Tiefling party. They saved them all from the goblins, they deserved some compensation, did they not? Tav is pressed against his back, one hand putting two fingers in his mouth, rolling the muscle of his tongue between them while the other jacks him off. He’s utterly helpless, Tav taking control of his pleasure for him in the best ways as he helplessly grips the bark of a tree. They would tell him how good he was, how much they wanted him, how lovely his moans were. That he was handsome, strong, and worthy.

That they loved him-

Strings of white decorate his stomach, his climax coming with a stuttered gasp. It came more quickly than he thought it would, and his body spasms with how intense it is. The cry that climbs up his throat stops short by his hand.

He massages himself through it, feeling dazed and utterly pathetic. How dare he think about Tav in this way, as if they were an object for his pleasure? They’re not his, and he’s not theirs, no matter how much he wants to be. What would they say if they saw him like this, desperate and lustful even after his orgasm?

Gods, he wants them so badly, and he knows he can never have them.

Catching his breath, he feels disgusting. Filthy. He shouldn't think of them at all, he hasn't earned that right to them. It's pitiful.

To remedy his sin, he gets out of his bed and heads to the washroom. It's grand in comparison to his lowly basin in the shop, and he's unsure where to start now that he has access to it. Firstly, he takes out a Create Water spell scroll and casts it, filling the entire tub with water. He then modifies the Produce Flame spell to heat up the water. That will do for now, he'll figure out how to make the process a lot quicker later.

He takes off his soiled nightwear, stepping into the water with a slight hiss. All right, maybe he made it a little too hot, but it's nothing he can't handle. Lorroakan has burned him worse. As soon as he gets to the hip line, he pours lavender oil into the steaming water and sinks in completely. He's heard of the scent being beneficial for sleep, mostly from Tav. He wonders if they are an herbalist- no, no, he isn't supposed to be thinking about them.

Emptying his mind is proving harder than he thought. No thanks to his previous transgression, Tav's face plagued him. Questions pop up without him wanting them to: how does Tav look when flustered? Are they experienced with intimacy? Do they like pain? Are they sweet? What is their perfect date? How do they show their love-

He dunks himself fully into the water before the thought could finish, and he feels the sting of the hot water against his face as he sits under the surface. Finally, his mind is silent, so he holds his breath as long as he could. It's oddly soothing, just being alone under the water. A perfect escape to everything around him. He may just have to do this more often.

Unfortunately, he has not done any training to hold his breath, so he has to come up for air within thirty seconds. Perhaps he should practice, but that's for another time.

Now that his hair was thoroughly wet, he begins washing and conditioning his hair, giving himself a scalp massage while he was at it. He didn't trust the mage hands to do it for him. They were floating in the corner, waiting for a command. Can mage hands pout? It feels as though that's exactly what they're doing. Why are they so eager to help anyways? He should dismiss them when he has the time.

After dunking under the water again to wash out all the products, he exits the bath carefully, using Prestidigitation to instantly dry himself. Ah, what would he do if he didn't have that spell on hand? It is incredibly convenient. Can Tav use magic for mundane tasks?

He pauses as he slides on a robe. Gods damn it, it's happening again! That didn't last too fucking long, now did it?

With a groan, he marches back into the bedroom and towards the balcony, pushing the doors open. The night hair hits him immediately, sending a brief chill through him before calming. With a heavy sigh, he goes to the railing and leans against it, watching the silent city of Baldur's Gate. The lanterns have long burned out, and the stars are blooming above him, but he can't relax. He's desperate for Tav, and it's pitiful.

Pressing his forehead on the cold stone, he realizes what a miserable, selfish, wretched creature he is. After all of those things, he's somehow still hopeful. Why else would they kiss him like that? Is he reading too much into this?

Though, perhaps, instead of dwelling on unwanted thoughts, he should just let them go. Lia always did say he thinks too much. Cal mentioned it could be quite damaging on one's psyche.

So he lets the thoughts flow. All of the domestic ones and all of the lustful ones, too. He flickers through memories of he and Tav's interactions, thinking of what could have been and where he went wrong. The shouting, the aggression, the drinking. Gods, the drinking. He hasn't touched wine in a while because of it.

Then he lets it all go.

He raises his head, taking a deep, long breath of the fresh night air. He's in Baldur's Gate. They all made it. The Absolute's army is about to knock on their door, but just for tonight, at least in this moment, he's calm. He's okay.

Maybe he'll be okay later, too.

After an hour, he makes it to his bed and lulls himself to sleep, pulling up the thickest parts of the blanket to hold. It manages to lull him to sleep. A success, in Rolan's tired mind.

There's so much to do with so little time.

---

A tenday has passed and Tav has not returned.

It's for the best that they don't come, as they continuously plague Rolan's mind. He can't stop thinking about them, no matter how much he distracts himself. Most of them are lustful and depraved, some of which make him feel utterly ashamed. He has no right to think of them in this way.

Though, it's the other thoughts that confuse him the most.

They're domestically blissful. He imagines waking up in bed with them, nuzzling into their hair as they convince him to stay a few more moments. He imagines dates, lacing his fingers through theirs while telling them how stunning they are. He imagines it's their body that he pulls close late at night, and not a spare pillow he squeezes to his chest.

He hates these thoughts more than most, as it makes him silently grieve what could've been if he weren't such an arrogant prick. What if he was nicer to them when they first met? Would they have approached him a third time at the party and invite him to their tent? Embarrassingly, he's been losing more sleep than usual over the what if's, and it's making him sloppy with his work. Papers were scattered, he keeps losing his books, and ink stains have been appearing on his robes more and more lately. Unacceptable.

Is he truly this pathetic, losing sleep over domestic thoughts with someone unreachable? Is he that lonely? Does he crave company that badly? It is a wizard's curse, surely.

He thought he got over this, but it seems he needs more than one night to 'let go' of them. Damn it all, why can't this be easier?

He shakes his head, regaining his focus of the task at hand. Rearranging the scrolls once more, he stands onto his feet again and brushes the dust off of his robe. He proudly places his hands on his hips. Finally, after so many days, he has the counter exactly how he wants it. Everything is organized, not a speck of dust in sight, all of it is beautifully-

One of the doors slam open again by a gust of wind, and rage fills him to the core. Why, oh why are the gods so against him? Now there's dirt of the floor, he just made Krank sweep it all out!

The anger disappears instantaneously when he sees Tav rush through the door, sweat beading on their brow and their face flushes from exertion. Extremely similar to how they appeared last time-

Oh no.

As they rush past the counter to the same room they both in before, he starts following them without thinking. What in the hells was he doing?! This can only lead to something terrible for him, even if Tav would be none the wiser. Why does he torture himself like this? He finally has everything he could ever want, yet he greedy for more. For the one thing he can never hope to have.

But they need him, and he could never deny them.

He quickly enters the room after them, shutting the door on his way in. Thankfully this room is more presentable this time around, but he doubts Tav will notice it. They have never been one to look at the finer details. At least from what he has seen, it's not as if he spent much time around them. That thought makes jealousy swell in his chest.

"I need help again." Tav states, rustling up their clothes.

"I can see that," He sasses, but Tav is already pushing off the mantle that sits on his shoulders before pulling him into a kiss, hand fisting the front of his robes.

What has he done to deserve this punishment? Are the Gods testing him by dangling his one desire in front of him? They should know he's too weak to resist their touch.

He gasps into their mouth when they pin him to the wall, free hand grasping the back of his thigh. They easily put their leg in between his, which puts him in a daze. Is this truly an act if they would go this far, or are they testing his boundaries? The worst part about this is he never wants them to stop. He wants them to keep going and reduce him to a pitiful, breathless mess.

They're already succeeding in that, it seems.

When he feels them try to pry his teeth open, he lets them, tangling his tongue with theirs. The noise is so lewd in his ear, a blush immediately rising to his face at the intimacy of it all. He thought about this situation constantly, both through the actual memory and then to his fantasies. Though, fantasy is nothing compared to their real hand tracing the skin of his exposed neck, mapping out the dips and curves of his adam's apple. Images flash through his mind of them choking him, not to hurt, but to claim. He honesty hopes they would do so, but alas, their hand trails up to cup his jaw instead.

This action only made him more flustered, and while he doesn't understand why, he accepts it all the same and leans into their hand. No one has ever touched his face like this in many, many years. Usually it was hit or slapped, no thanks to his teacher. Even when their touch is as gentle as a dove, he can't help but flinch when their thumb strokes along his cheekbone. They pull away from the kiss, catching their breath with a question on the tip of their tongue.

As if the world is playing a joke, those same Flaming Fists burst the door open. They look surprised once again.

"Again?!" He shouts at them, bristling and baring his teeth.

"Do you fucking mind?" Tav yells after, giving them a hard-earned glare.

The Flaming Fists do not bother arguing again, turning heel and leaving the shop without another word. They look foolish, doing their walk of shame. At least they were quick about it, Rolan did not feel like giving them another lecture.

"How do you do, Rolan?" They tease, a hand still fisting his sleeve.

It is a miracle how he keeps his composure. "Well enough, I suppose. Now, as I said earlier, again?"

"There's a perfectly good explanation."

"Then?"

"They were assholes so I stole their money."

"I'm inclined to agree. They are quite intrusive in their searches. Though, must have you lead them here again? I just had Krank clean the floors of the shop from bottom to top!" He complains, running a hand down his face as he stabilizes his footing, "Now I'll have to command him to do it all over again. At least the bottom part."

"I know, I'm sorry to do this to you again. I can make it up to you!" The say quickly before taking a pause. "Wait, you reanimated Krank?"

"Despite being Lorroakan's, he still had his uses." He drawls, suddenly feeling trapped in their space. "Clearly weaponry is not the armors calling, so I have him clean the floors in the morning and at night. There hasn't been any complaints."

"It's animated armor, Rolan. It can't complain."

"I meant complaints from the customers, you absolute dunce!" He snaps and immediately regrets it, but Tav bursts out in a fit of laughter at his insult.

Never has he understood what was so funny about them being insulted. Does he look like a fool doing so? Are they laughing at him? He should be angry over it but he most likely deserves it.

"Well, I feel terrible for dragging you in here twice," They giggle, wiping a stray tear from their eye. "So I want to make it up to you."

"And how do you suppose you'll do that?" He challenges.

"Well, we already got the first part of it started, if you're interested." They tease, voice low.

Oh gods.

"We could take it further. I can feel your little friend down there, and I'm more than happy to help." They murmur in his ear.

A cold sweat hits him in that instant. This is his worst nightmare. He wants it, gods does he want it so badly, but if he accepts it there will be no turning back for him.

They attempt to cup his cheek but he turns his face away, gently pushing them.

“Rolan?”

“I can’t do this.” He says, unable to look them in the eye, but he feels the way they tense.

Before they can start apologizing, he continues, “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the Shadow-Cursed Lands, I think. I adore many things about you. But you keep holding me like this, kissing me, and it's starting to make me believe that there will be more than this, one day. When The Absolute is gone, and Baldur's Gate is safe, you would do me the honor of considering me as a...companion."

"Oh, Rolan..."

"I refuse to be a side piece, someone who will be at your beckon call whenever you're bored. You’re tugging at my heart as if it’s your plaything, and while I know you have not done this on purpose, I can't handle it anymore."

He exhales sharply, tilting his face up when he feels tears sting his eyes. "Please, do not torture me like this and just go. Leave."

When he’s met with silence, he swallows and blinks away the wetness of his eyes. He knew that he never had a chance, and that their affections were never real. How could his savior ever look at him like he looked at them? But that diversion of theirs was so wonderful, and for at least a temporary moment, he felt wanted. Desired.

Loved.

He knew he couldn’t continue. It is selfish of him and he would’ve been setting himself up for heartbreak.

Tav leans in close, eyes tender as they tilt his chin back down. “Rolan…I’ve been a fool. I thought I was being obvious.”

He finally can look at them in the eye. “What?”

They can't help but chuckle, but it is a good natured one, “I’m in love with you too, idiot. Why do you think I would keep seeing you in this way?” They ask, tucking some hair behind his ear. “I'm so sorry, I should have been more forward with you. I never meant to hurt your heart like this, you mean too much to me."

He must be dreaming, he has to be, but he can feel the of their body pressing against him. They want him too, and it makes his heart want to burst out of his ribcage. He isn't aware of the blush that rises in his face at their confession, making his already red skin grow crimson.

They carefully cup his face again, pressing their forehead against his, being mindful of his horns. "I'm sorry Rolan, truly. Could you ever forgive me?"

His adam's apple bobs with his swallow, but his face remains a stern look. "...Your apology seems genuine, and I forgive you."

"Well good, I was worried that I just fucked up my chance." They huff with a smile, gently pinning him against the wall once more. "Now, would you like me to try this again and kiss you?”

“Please.” He whispers instantly, tail coiling around their leg.

It was unclear who pulled in first, but what mattered is their hands were all over each other as they kiss fiercely. He felt one of their hands move back and grip the base of his tail. A pathetic whimper escapes his mouth, pleasure shooting up his spine. Tav happily nips his bottom lip in response before pulling away. “I want to see your bedroom, Rolan. Now.”

"As you wish." He responds breathlessly.

Using Dimension Door, he teleports the both of them to the top of the stairs of Sorcerous Sundries, pulling them through the portal and into the tower. This is a totally inappropriate use of one of his higher level spells, but his mind is in a sexually charged place. He'll chastise himself for it later.

His grip on their hand is tight, sweat gathering there as he teleports them again to the bedroom. It isn't customized to his liking quite yet, but it at least has the colors he wants. Deeper blues mixed with other calming colors to help him sleep. He doubts Tav is admiring the features with the way they pull him onto the mattress.

When they both settle in the bed, Tav quickly gets undressed, unclipping the armor and ripping off their under clothes in one fell swoop. Whatever he though their body looked like in his dreams, the real thing is so much better. Any little scar or texture change, he either wants to trace with his fingers or with his tongue. As they lay back and spread their legs, he reaches for them.

They gently smack his hand away when he tries to touch their chest, smirking. “No. You will sit back all pretty and watch.”

His mouth goes dry, surprised at the sudden command, but would he truly be a student of the Weave if he did not know how to listen to directions? He does as told, sitting back on his feet.

"Do you have oil in here?" They question.

"Right side, top drawer."

They crawl over and grab it, settling back into position as they drizzle the product onto their fingers. They make a show of it, too, playing with the substance between their fingers before their hand trails down in between their legs, locking eyes with Rolan.

He swallows as he watches them open themselves up, all for him. It sends his mind reeling with lust, and he’s still not allowed to touch. Torture, is what it is. They have him exactly where they want him, and he is not complaining one bit. Not in his wildest imagination could he have though of this scenario. It's incredible. They're incredible.

As they go on languidly slow, he starts feeling hot all over. His clothes feel too suffocating around his body, his trousers unbelievably tight. It takes everything in him not to palm his growing erection, biting a lip to stifle a small moan that threatens to escape his throat.

“I want to watch you take all those layers off, Rolan. It’s not fair if I’m the only one naked.” They demand, hooking their fingers inside of themselves and groaning.

He responds by finally taking off that mantle that sets heavy on his shoulders. They watch him unblinking as he instantly gets his robes off, seeing the tent in his smalls that expresses his want. It looks painful. He throws the robes, shoes, and smalls off somewhere in the room, his cock now in the cold air, leaking.

They smirk at the sight, now curling three fingers in with a long winded moan. “Gods, I can’t wait to have you in me. I bet you feel so good, look at that…”

Have they always been this good with their words? They always have in his pathetic fantasies, but the real thing makes him twitch in need. He wants to touch them, feel their skin against his in a blaze of pleasure.

Alas, he has to wait.

Finally, they take their fingers out of themselves and sit back up. “I’m ready for you.”

“I want to touch you, Tav.” He admits, fingers twitching on the top of his thighs.

They crawl over to him and sit in his lap, breathing hard as they wrap their arms around his shoulders. “You may.”

He takes some small amount of comfort in that they’re as hot and bothered as he is, watching their flushed face before they crash their lips into his own.

He whines into their mouth, his cock trapped in between their stomachs. The friction is positively divine and he already thinks he may be close with the way their fingers trace the ridges on his back. They're mapping them out, pressing against the wing impressions on his shoulder blades and then trailing them down his spine. As soon as they reach the base of his tail, they tug on it once more.

A gasp shudders out of him when they grind against him. “Tav, if you keep doing that, I won’t last much longer.”

They hum in approval, sucking a hickey into the base of his throat. “What if I promise to make you come again?”

“Tav, please—”

“Okay okay.” They relent, moving back a little to give him some breathing room.

They stay in his lap as they pull him in for another kiss, and he joyfully obliges. Their tongues dance as he gropes their chest, mostly wanting to feel the unique textures of their skin. They’re perfect, to him. He wishes they were some sort of god, because at least then he would have an explanation for his need towards them. This unrelenting desire that he has pleaded for every night when he dreamt of them.

He has so many dreams, one that wake him in a sweat and painfully hard in his trousers. He made a theory that indulging would help the process of forgetting his desires, but it seems as though his hypothesis was wrong. Dead wrong. His dreams of them only became more vivid, some tricking him into thinking it was real. He mourned when he woke up those mornings, wondering why the Gods were torturing him with their image, their body, their face, their laugh.

Hells, he hopes he's not dreaming right now, they feel too real. He can feel them biting and tugging his lower lip, so he concludes that they were, in fact, here with him. Making him feel so much better than his wildest fantasies. Their nails bite into the back of his neck as they briefly deepen the kiss, before pulling themselves away, a string of saliva connecting them. For at least a moment, he catches his breath.

With a solid push to his chest, he falls back onto the bed with a soft thump. He pushes himself back up onto his elbows quickly, breathing harsh. At first, he’s worried he screwed something up. Did his nails hurt their skin? He should have blunt them this morning. But then they straddle his waist and take hold of his drooling hard-on, ready to sink onto him. “Hold still.”

As they lower themselves, stars burst behind his eyes as he takes them fully, their walls squeezing around him so deliciously. He bites back a moan that tries to work its way up his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut, he manages to hold himself together when they seat themselves onto him.

“Gods, you feel so fucking good Rolan.” They moan, clenching briefly around him until they finally relax. They do a test grind, and he knows he's hitting all the right places within them with the way their eyes flutter.

“So do you.” He says breathlessly, a light sheen of sweat already decorating his skin, pupils blown wide as his tail flicks about. The appendage instinctively reaches for something to hold onto. Anything at all. In the end, he settles with wrapping his tail around their waist, keeping himself grounded. They smile down at him when they feel it squeeze them.

He tries to reach for for their sides shakily, but they are more put together in this moment, and much faster. They take his hands, lacing their fingers through his, and pin them each besides his head. He’s only met with a grin before they start riding him with reckless abandon, gripping his hands unbelievably tight.

A groan that trails off into a whimper escapes his throat, hips subconsciously thrusting up into their tight heat. It felt positively divine feeling their walls clench around him, purposely teasing. They’re grinning, even when they toss their head back and moan. He squeezes their hands for dear life, already losing himself as their skin meets his. “Ah— Tav—“

“That’s it baby, I want to hear you.” They pant, leaning down and kissing him soundly. He lets their tongue pry his lips with ease, begging for a taste.

“I won’t last if— gods—“ he cries against their mouth, toes curling in the sheets.

“I don’t care, let me feel you. I want it.”

He curses when they clench around him again, clearly wanting to milk him dry, but he manages to stave his orgasm off. At least for a little bit. This felt so fucking good, he never wants it to end. But with the way they roll their hips, he’s not going to last. He wishes he could have last longer, giving them their pleasure the way they deserve after all of their hardship. They saved him, saved his siblings, saved the tieflings. Twice. Then they saved him for a third time. They did not have to, they could've walked away and let him lay with his poor choices. They didn't, and he's never seen them more angry than when they saw his bruised face.

His stomach suddenly tightens, giving him that impending warning he knows all too well in recent days. “C—Close, I’m close—“ he rasps.

“Me too. Fuck, you feel so good love.” They murmur thoughtlessly.

That nickname teeters him over the edge, and Rolan came with a cry in his throat. Tav was not far behind, fluttering around him as they came as well.

They breathe hard, resting on top of him and letting go of his hands. They instead use them to hold his heated face and kiss him gently. With his hands free, he wraps his arms around their back to pull them closer. He’s spent, exhausted, but he’s never felt more content as he kisses them.

Before they both could feel uncomfortable, he murmurs the words of prestidigitation and cleans them up as they rise off of his softening cock. They plop next to him on the bed, smiling tiredly.

“You were amazing.”

He laughs at that, wiping sweat off of his face. “I should be saying that to you.”

“Then we’re both amazing, hm?” They tease, scooting closer to his side. "Where did you learn how to fuck like that?"

"Must you be so vulgar?" He exasperates with a groan, making them laugh, "But if you must know, I have done extensive research on the subject."

"Ooooh research! What, did you study anatomy books?"

He groans, covering his face with his hands.

"Wait a minute, you have a smut collection?! This I have to see."

"Absolutely not!" He shouts, his face, neck, and ears now a deep crimson.

They burst out laughing, and as much as he wants to chastise them for it, he ends up laughing with them. He's never felt so light before now, as if he's finally feeling relief for all the trouble he's been through.

Gods, he's truly in love with them, isn't he?

"I can go for a round two, if you're up for it." They say after calming down their laughter.

He snickers at that, pecking heir forehead. "As much as that sounds wonderful, you've exhausted me for the day."

"Then how about some cuddling? Karlach always said I give great hugs."

He hums, pecking their cheek next as they wrap their arms around him. "I think I would like that, very much."

Letting out a deep rooted sigh, he feel all the tension in his body finally leave him. He should be disgusted by all the sweat gathered around them in the aftermath of their activities, but in this moment, he wouldn't have it any other way. There's time to complain about it later. Perhaps he can show them the bath he now uses. Would they be impressed by it? It certainly is better than whatever they have going on in the Elfsong Tavern. He wants to do everything to impress them, make himself worth their while even with the chaos that is their lives. But for now, he's calm.

For the first time, Rolan felt truly free.

"Does Krank know how to clean bed sheets?"

Snorting, he looks at them again. "I haven't made him try. He's decent at mopping and sweeping...somewhat. Why?"

"Just curious. It's cute how you just have a little servant now, cleaning the place."

"Krank is not a servant, he is an employee of my establishment."

"You don't pay him!"

"That is not the point! He works, does he not?"

They laugh, pressing their forehead against his. "Fine, fine, but why not make him clean your room, including the sheets?"

"He will mess them up! I know how to properly smooth it out and make this room look highly presentable."

"Oh, I'm sure you do...anyways, do you have a bath in here? I stink and feel sweaty." He barks out a laugh, reluctantly getting out of their arms and shuffling off the bed. "I do, it's in the next room over."

When he offers his hand to them, they happily take it as he leads them to the side room. The large bath presents itself, though it is empty right now. He should figure out a way for it to be ready automatically in any time of the day, but he'll work out the kinks later. He wants to show them that his fingers have talent in ways they wouldn't comprehend. All of it in the form of a heavenly scalp massage.

#forest-writes #rolan x tav #rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3 #rolanites #rolan brainrot

23 notes · View notes

sentientsky · 6 months

Text

"I forgive you." It came out like a blood clot—like an artery dripping gore—like an oil spill. Crowley felt his shoulders rise, fall, fall, fall. The air between them hummed, the tension of six thousand years turning every atom electrified and silently screaming. Breath shuddered out of him, human and terrible and hollowing. He had never been more grateful for the swallowing darkness of his glasses, for the way they hid the centuries of pre-emptive grief and wicked terror. The air was suffocating, the once familiar bookshop turned catacomb.

And then, hating himself for it but seeing no other way forward, he spoke the words aloud. "Don't bother". And then he was out in the middle of Soho and the breeze was harsh against his too-warm skin. Stepping out into the sun felt like rising to the surface of some great ocean—the gasping, desperate feeling in his lungs, the sudden crash of noise. A woman across the street called for her wife. A car horn. A dog barking. Laughter, cruel and far-off. He pulled breath into lungs that didn't need it, winced as he felt slivers of cold drive into the soft flesh of his throat.

So that was it; five and a half million years of want and need and burning, aching somedays, cyphered pleas for "our side". All gone in the space between shaking half-breaths and a kiss still seared against his lips.

Fuck it.

He'd ruined it the first time, had forced them both to look directly into the sun, to face the thing they'd been dancing around for the better part of six millennia. He could do better—would do better. At a music café some years ago, a human had been playing the piano—something soft and slow. A jazz number, if the demon remembered correctly. But the remarkable thing wasn’t the song itself, but that they were playing it with their eyes closed. Aziraphale had pointed this fact out to Crowley, excitement lilting in his voice (even then, the sound had thrilled him, sent a stab of warmth through his heart). It was only after the final note reverberated through the room that the artist opened their eyes, blinking in the sudden rush of stage lights. Aziraphale, ever the music connoisseur, approached the musician. The pianist had explained that, for them, reading music never came easy. Rather, they learned by touch, by the way the keys felt on their fingertips. In fact, the only way they could play a song was with their eyes closed. If they watched their hands as they played or thought too hard about their next move, they got confused and tripped over the notes. Muscle memory, they’d said. It was muscle memory—the galactic familiarity of finding the space between seconds and prying—that guided Crowley now. He hadn’t done it since Not-Armageddon, but it came easily to him just the same. Time, you see, operates kind of like sound, like music; it loops and sways and carries forward in waves. If you know where to look (as the demon did), you can disrupt the flow, send it back towards the shore.

And this was what Crowley did now. Drawing his hands through the ripples of minutes and seconds and hours and millennia, time stilled around him. It was natural. Easy, like breathing or sleeping. Or loving Aziraphale. Slowly, the world turned backwards; humans retreating from whence they came, cars driving in reverse, the wind blowing in the opposite direction. If Heaven had taken notice of their "half-a-miracle", Crowley expected them to be able to see this from every edge of the universe. He likely only had one shot at this.

The world aligned itself once more, and time returned to its regular, steady gait—a rubber band snapping back into place. Something hummed in Crowley’s chest. Something bright and burning and the shape of a neutron star. Hands shaking, he reached for the handle of the bookshop and pushed. The bell above the door rang, clear and and too-loud in the morning air. Aziraphale whirled around, a trembling half-smile on his face. Oh. Oh, somebody, this was going to be harder than he thought. It felt like all the oxygen, all the courage, had been punched clear out of him "Crowley!" A beat, a shuddering breath. "Angel". He pressed his still-trembling hands into his pockets and strode forward. "Oh, Crowley, dear, I've been looking for you. I have excellent news." His stomach did a little flip, something deep within him growing hollow and fearful. "We have to talk," he managed to choke out around the heart still lodged in his throat. "Yes, I quite think we do. I have something to tell you." Aziraphale strode forward, all grins and beauty like a flickering star, all plasma and heat. He could practically feel the agitated warmth roll off of his angel. Crowley shivered. "I just met with the Meta—” "No. Wait," the demon held up a hand, pausing the rushing torrent of Aziraphale’s words. "Just let me say my thing, please." "My dear boy, just—oh, what is that lovely human expression—"

"Hold that thought," Crowley muttered. His eyes burned behind his glasses. Aziraphale looked pleasantly taken aback.

"Yes, how did you know? I—" "No." The angel's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "No?" "No," he repeated, enunciating each letter with perfect clarity. He was going to do it right this time. He was going to keep him from leaving. He could be good. Right? "I’m gonna speak, and I want you to listen to me without interrupting, m'kay?" Words were building in the basin of his sternum now, pushing up on his airways. He was going to have to say it outright this time; no more waltzing around this frenzied galaxy of emotion. Willing his hands to steadiness, he pulled his glasses from his face, and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. Aziraphale's breath seemed to catch for a moment, meeting the ferocity of the demon's gaze head-on. A deer in headlights. And then, "Crowley, I really—" (Eons hurtled through his mind in a split second, the serrated knife's-edge of want like a being all its own. Aziraphale in the garden. Aziraphale in the tavern, on the cliffside, on the West End stage, in the Bentley, in the bookshop, in the very marrow of Crowley’s bones.) "I love you," he rasped, ichor writhing in his veins.

There, he'd said it., said it fully and completely, without so much as flinching. It was the same love he'd expressed for the past several thousand years in a million little, unspoken ways: an ox rib, a revolution, a church, a burning bookshop and the bottom of a glass and a lost best friend. A yellow Bentley, a lifetime of tethering his life to Aziraphale's, of trailing after him like a moth to flame—like a dog to its owner. "I love you," he pushed on. They were both looking directly into the sun again, Crowley urging them to stare straight into the heat of it all. The words were spilling out of him now, a heaving, thrashing current falling to the bookshop's hardwood floors. "I love you and you can't go to Heaven." Aziraphale froze, pupils blown wide and unblinking, for just a moment. Tension stretched out like a thread between them. And then he pulled in breath like a drowning man (who wasn't really a man at all), and tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes, and oh god, he'd made his angel cry. Fear and guilt and horror slammed into him at a million kilometers an hour and left him halfway between dizzy and nauseous. His fingers tensed at his side, desperate to do something, fix what he'd so obviously broken. Heaven would be on the front step any moment. It was too late, wasn't it? It was always too late. "Crowley—what?" Aziraphale breathed, mouth twisting into a brutal, terrible, heart-wrenching sob. Crowley ached, panic lancing through him like a knife. "I—I really, I can't. You could come with me." He stepped forward, moving to place his hands on the demon's shoulders. Crowley leaned into the touch, almost unconsciously. "Don't go," he croaked, tears beginning to prick his own eyes once again. This time he didn't reach for his glasses, didn't try to hide his fear. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. And then Aziraphale could hate him and his desperate, hungry, reverent love in the aftermath. "Don't go where I can't follow. Please".

His angels blue-grey eyes searched his own, and the weight of his gaze was impossibly heavy, pressing down on his chest like a river-smoothed rock. "Crowley, please. I don't understand. The Metatron said—" His palms found the sides of Crowley's throat, thumbs resting gently on the side of his jaw. Crowley sucked in a breath. "Angel," The scent of earl grey—of old books and soft tartan chairs. Aziraphale's hands were shaking. "I know what the Metatron said," he intoned, soft as rainfall. "You can't go. It's not—they won't change. You're better than that." "But you could be an angel. With me," he murmured, soft thumbs running across sharp cheekbones. "Be my second-in-command." "Don't want to be. Want t' be an us," he felt tears—traitorous, burning tears tip over the edge of his lashes and fall against his face. "Crowley, darling, please." A beat. "I love you." The bottom of the world dropped out from under him in that moment. Aziraphale loved him. He loved him and he'd said it aloud and now it was out there in the world and it was as though every nerve on his body was on fire. His angel pushed on, "Truly, I love you. I need you with me. Please, come with me. We can do good, I know it." He could never say no when his angel asked something of him. Especially not when his kind, gentle hands were holding him like something good, something precious. Especially not when Aziraphale had just admitted to needing him, had injected the word with so much warmth he thought his all-too-human heart might beat clear out of his chest. But there was a first (technically, second) time for everything. He drew in a heavy breath, and tilted his head, breaking his angel's hold on him. Aziraphale's hands—now empty, still shook. He made a soft whimpering sound, and Crowley ached to kiss his fingertips, banish the fear. But instead, he looked up towards the ceiling, to a God who was not there—who maybe had never been there at all. He felt the Heavenly Host drawing near, a sense of hollow emptiness, the scent of absence. This was the time of last-ditch efforts, of holding his heart out and hoping Aziraphale might take it as it was, bruised spots and all. "I can't. I won't. I need to be here, on Earth, with you." "Crowley, please. I don't think you understand what I'm offering you," he huffed. A residual shard of anger stabbed at him then, and he turned his gaze sharply back to the angel before him. "Oh, I understand perfectly well, angel. I'm fairly certain I understand better than you do." Aziraphale's mouth drew into a thin line, tears welling fresh in his eyes again. And still, Crowley ached. A beat. Something in the angel shifted, then, turned on its edge—the walls beginning to go up again, and it was just like it had been not fifteen minutes ago. He was watching the same moment play out over and over again; some cyclical, torrential nightmare. "I would like you to come with me, but," Aziraphale paused, voice breaking in the middle. "But I'm leaving, with or without you." And there it was, like it was predestined. Despite the love, despite the want, despite every shared bottle passed between them, every half-accidental touch and glance and whispered word—despite the way he would’ve let Aziraphale run a sword through his chest... It wasn't enough. It was never enough. They were re-enacting their old magic trick, right there in the bookshop, this time with Crowley staring down the barrel, letting Aziraphale pull the trigger. Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear. Aziraphale wasn't shooting past his ear. His bloody ribcage felt as though it might splinter apart. Wingbeats in the distance, a grief wide enough to drown the sea. Crowley reached down, pulled his sunglasses from their resting spot against his clavicle. And then the hunger in his eyes was once more hidden, and he was walking towards the door like a man headed to execution. "Crowley—" Aziraphale nearly keened, the wall crumbling for a split second. Without turning, Crowley said the only words he could think of. "I forgive you."

#did i steal some lines from one of my own fanfics??? yes. yes i did #because im tired and i don't want to come up with more metaphors for time warping rn. so hush <3 #good omens fanfiction #good omens angst #THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 300 WORDS LONG #FUCK I FUCKED UP IM DEHYDRATED AND IM SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING AN ESSAY WHAT THE FUCK #idek what this is i literally have not edited one tiny little bit of this. i just came up with everything as i went along so i apologize #ignore the fact that the dialogue/pacing/ideas diverge from canon shhhhhh im too tired to look at source material #ehhh dunno how i feel ab this but whatever here's something (???)#take a shot every time i say chest or heart or ache or tremble #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziraphale #aziracrow #go2 #ineffable lovers #ineffable wives #good omens season 2 #crowley angst #final fifteen #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #david tennant #michael sheen #ineffable divorce #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #gomens

68 notes · View notes

cellythefloshie · 1 year

Text

ＩＭＡＧＩＮＥ: Trying Not to Get Caught with Ross Colton *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ honey magnolia edition ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Celly's 300 Follower Appreciation Requested by @comphy-and-cozy

-who would have thought sleeping with Ross was exactly what you needed to be able to tolerate his presence

-and not only were you just tolerating it when you sat down at dinner together

-or had to sit a little too close during a family car ride

-you wanted to be spending your time together

-which was easy to do when you were stuck in the same house for the summer

-the tough part was trying not to make the change in your behaviours too obvious

-for years you hated each other

-finally getting along would beg too many questions

-and so you tread carefully as you moved into the living room where Ross was seating on the couch flipping through Netflix

-“what are you gonna watch?”

-“don’t know yet.”

-“that one looks good”

-and he scoffed, his bright eyes raising to meet yours

-they were soft and didn’t match the annoyance he was trying to have perceived

-“sit down then-”

-you lay out on the couch beside him with your feet closest to him as you reached for one of the throw blankets

-the two of you settled in, the movie playing out on the screen while you heard his mother working on dishes in the kitchen

-Ross was quick to complain before the movie could really start

-“your feet are practically in my lap, sit up”

-he complained, and you sat up with a pout

-but his touch kept you from straying too far

-your eyes left the screen and looked at him as he tugged at your arm

-he drew you in close a trouble-making smile on his face

-“what are you doing?” you whispered

-“com’ere” he encouraged and drew you closer so that your head was resting on his shoulder

-“your mom-”

-“if you hear her coming, just pretend you’re asleep”

-Ross slipped his hand beneath the blanket you had wrapped yourself in and tossed you a pillow to strategically cuddle over your frame

-it was the perfect cover for his hand as it slipped down the front of your sleep shorts and into your panties

-you took in a sharp inhale as your eyes went wide

-“Ross-”

-he hushed you

-“relax, unless you want my mom to know where my hand is…”

-you gave him a stern glance as you bit down on your lower lip in restraint

-you did your best not to move too much as his fingers stroked over the plain of your pelvis and dipped down

-but you did angle your hips just enough to help his hand with the awkward angle

-you couldn’t risk anyone seeing the subtle movement of his arm

-Ross did his best to provide any of his movements and to disgust just where his hand had ended up by assuring that he was for the most part concealed by the blanket as well

-it was with that security that his hand began to move against you with confidence

-he had quickly learned what you liked

-and he enjoyed just how quickly he could have your reeling for him

-the added challenge of going unnoticed by his mother in the next room would only make it more difficult for you

-you would have to force composure

-you couldn’t make a sound

-and you couldn’t make a mess of the couch either

-it was a cruel thing to do to you really

-but it wasn’t purely self-indulgent

-as soon as his fingers could feel you becoming wet from his touch he began to struggle

-he could already feel his cock growing hard

-it earned a low “fuck” from his own lips as she leaned in to mutter his words into your hair

-“i’m going to fuck you so good after they go to bed-”

-his final word was broken as he heard the shuffling of feet in the kitchen

-“you need anything before I head up for the night?”

-it was the voice of his mother

-sometimes she was too damn sweet for her own good

-because she walked straight into the living room and stood alongside the couch and down at you and Ross

-and you didn’t move an inch

-you weren’t even sure if you were breathing you had stilled so quickly

-petrified was the only way you could describe what you were feeling

-as Ross had delved his fingers deep inside you one final time before he stilled

-his fingers stayed there, deep in your cunt

-soaked in your arousal

-as you lay up against him pretending to have fallen asleep

-and she must had believed it

-because she didn’t seem to pry for more

-nor was she concerned

-you could only hear the smile in her voice as he spoke, “it’s so nice that the two of you are finally trying to get along”

-you felt Ross shrug and his head tilted carefully to one side as he gave off a nonchalant nod

-“i mean, i guess she’s alright”

-you did your best not to scowl

-and instead moved the only thing you could that his mother would not notice

-you flexed your cunt around his fingers

-and he made sure you know he felt it by hooking his fingers and dragging his fingertips over that spot that could so quickly make you unravel

-“you headed up to bed?”

-“yeah, dad too,” his mom told him and you could hear her leaning over the arm of the couch to place a kiss on the top of his head

-“grab the lights?” Ross requested simply

-and then she walked away, her footsteps fading in the distance as she turned off the lights and left the main floor in darkness

-the two of you sat silent and still in the room for a long time

-your eyes opening up just enough to watch the movie

-all the while his fingers were still teasing the walls of your cunt

-“you think they’re asleep yet?” you whispered after what felt like ages

-“no way to know for sure…”

-Ross glanced back towards the stairs

-there was no glow from the bathroom at the top of the stairs

-and the house was quiet save for the credits of the movie

-Ross reached for the remote with his free hand and turned off the tv to leave you both in complete darkness

-it brought a level of secrecy to the room

-one that gave you both the reassurance it shouldn’t

-with everyone else in bed, you shouldn’t get caught

-“you’re still soaked…”

-he told you carefully, his fingers returning to their slow pump once more

-it left you pushing the blanket aside and reaching for the drawstring of your shorts

-they were well soaked through and you were quick to dispose of them on the floor

-your panties were quick to follow

-you kicked them aside before Ross was easing you back to lay out on the couch

-he pushed open your legs with ease and relished in the sight of you

-he pumped his fingers inside you deliberately, assuring to hit just the right spot that left you throwing your head back into the couch cushion

-your lips parted in a silent moan

-and while the sight of your pleasure was obscured by the darkness it left him grinning wide

-leaning in, he came to hover over you

-watching as your features melted with pleasure at his hand

-Ross didn’t stop until he felt your arousal dripping down his hands and the walls of your cunt flexing around his fingers

-and while he didn’t get to fuck you

-it would have been too much of a risk

-he was satisfied

-Ross withdraw his fingers, licking them clean before he reached down for your panties and sleep shorts

-he helped ease them back onto your weak legs before tossing the blanket back on top of you

-you looked up at him confused

-you should be making your way up to bed, and instead, Ross was making himself comfortable

-you raised a brow at him slowly, your head cocking to the side

-he opened his arm to you and welcomed you in as you came to rest your head against his chest

-he held you in his arms, his cheek pressed into the crown of your head and he became lost in the scent that was uniquely you

-“if my dad catches us here in the morning…”

-“it was a really boring movie, and you were already alseep,” he claimed

-and his lips coming down to kiss your hair carefully

-together you fell asleep on the sofa

-and come morning the sunlight would creep through the curtains and you too would wake together before his mother and your father could catch you

-and it wouldn’t be the last time you and Ross would take the risk

-the two of you liked to put yourselves in compromising positions…

#ross colton #hockey rpf #hockey smut #hockey imagines #nhl rpf #nhl imagine #imagine #;;300 #;; { as you can see these two always test my self control }#;; { like i had to cut myself off }#;; { because I was going to end up writing so much more }#;; { and this was supposed to be something I wrote out in full instead of a blurb }#;; { i can only imagine how long that would have gotten }#;; { like every fic starts with a blub and then I flesh it out }#;; { so this could have easily ended up double or triple the word count }#;; { hell maybe even longer }#;; { anyway i hope you enjoy hun! }#;;honey magnolia blurb #;; { i might have to write this in full another day ngl }

39 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 19 days

Note

bonfire! spencer reid + only one bed trope pls 💕💕

Thanks for requesting!

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 535 words

You wouldn’t have pegged Spencer for a heavy sleeper.

You suppose it makes sense. With a brain like his and a schedule like your team’s, good rest when he can get it is probably essential. You’d all worked late into the night tonight, so late that Hotch had decided you should just sleep here and get on the jet home in the morning. Rooms at the hotel had been purchased for your team for the last two nights, but none of you had used the first one, so when you and Spencer had gotten here a few hours ago it had come as a surprise that you’d been double-booked. Or single-booked, maybe.

Two cards, one room. One singular bed, plus a pull-out couch that you’d both offered halfheartedly to take before collapsing into the plush mattress and 300 thread-count sheets. You’d both changed into your pajamas and fallen asleep almost instantly, at least two chaste feet of space between you on the bed. You’d woken hardly an hour later with an embarrassing pool of drool on your pillow and a long-fingered hand curled in the material of your shirt.

You can’t decide whether to be grateful for the fact that Spencer doesn’t so much as stir when he hooks an angle over yours, urging you closer to him almost entreatingly while your fatigued heart starts kicking in your chest. You stay facing away from him, looking into the pitch darkness. You can’t move any farther away without edging off the bed, but you try anyway, inching until one of your legs is dangling off the mattress, and when you slip the other from beneath Spencer’s ankle there’s a soft, plaintive sound from behind you. His fingers wind tighter into your shirt.

You freeze.

Spencer’s breaths are deep and even, and you marvel at it as he crosses his ankle over yours again, bare calf sliding against yours and interlocking your legs more securely. And frankly, you’re too tired to fight it.

You scoot backwards on the bed. It’s twice as easy as it had been going the other direction, probably because of the way the mattress dips in the middle or Spencer’s slight tug or maybe even some sort of magnetic pull like in those books Penelope’s always reading, you suppose anything is possible. Whatever the case, it seems to be a relief for you both. Spencer’s other hand wraps around your middle as soon as you’re close enough, gentle and contented, and he’s warm enough to make the freezing air blasting through the A/C feel comfortable.

His quiet sigh hits the back of your neck as you both settle, a few careful inches still between you. Even unconscious, you think politeness must be ingrained in Spencer, because his touch stays over the material of your shirt, courteous and unmoving. You let your fingers stroke over his once, and they twitch in his sleep.

You don’t remember closing your eyes, but heavy as they are it can’t take long. When the blue light of early morning cuts through the drawn curtains and Spencer’s limbs stiffen where they’re twined around you, his breath catching in surprise and embarrassment, you’ll pretend you’re a heavy sleeper, too.

444 notes · View notes

ceridescent · 10 months

Text

carribean summer heat — m., wanda

wanda maximoff x female!reader

summary: it's a lovely sight to see wanda maximoff sweating and blushing due to the tropical heat. sometimes it's tricky, because one moment she looks like a baby, and the next, well...you could ask the particular group of people who...but you suppose not. it's impossible they could have seen the hot flush on her cheeks as she handled you then and there, out in the open.

warning/s: top!wanda, bottom!f!reader, dom/sub dynamics, thigh riding, dirty talk, semi-public, mommy kink, use of strap-on, creampie, & teasing.

word count: 4, 300

author’s note: hiiiiii hiiii hiiii i'm so happy i finally have some content to post on my rotting account. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ (i did have multiple drafts but i forgot tumblr existed 'cause i had off notifs the whole time since may.) it was a giddy, high school girl crush feeling of me to write this filthy fic. (/▽＼*)｡o○♡ i hope everyone's having a wonderful Hot Girl summer!! or a Hot Slutty summer, whichever you prefer. o(>ω<;)o

18+ only. men and minors do NOT interact.

masterlist | navigation

the sun rays barely strike your tanning skin, serving only as an illumination toward the breathtaking view of the caribbean sea as you situate on the patio.

three ivory-colored recliner beach chairs are included in the rental villa, wherein you occupy one whilst the woman who flew a helicopter in saint-barthélemy island, makes piña coladas in the kitchen. a few hours ago you woke up earlier than her, and it was a relieving feeling, of hearing the rise and fall of her breath. a pink blush coated her entire face, unused to the tropical weather. hair stuck on the oval of her face, grinning at how baby-ish she looked. you didn’t bother rousing her though, as you were both selfish for being the sole witness of the rising sun behind the full glass window of the villa, and considerate to allow her more time to rest.

not long after though, she woke up moaning your name, rubbing a whole limb on the empty space you left behind.

“you left me,” wanda whined, her eyes glazed and her red lips pouty.

“they gave us fresh coconuts,” you purred, showing her the fruit. helping her sit up on the white mattress, you plant a chaste kiss on her cheekbone. this feels like a true vacation, you thought to yourself, appreciating the beach elements surrounding the entire villa, and the hard-to-miss view of the sea outside. although, the other thing that left you breathless was wanda’s bare breasts, the only clothing clinging onto her body was the thong she changed into right after she showered last night.

you rested the open edge of the coconut in between her lips, “here,” tipping it upward so she could drink the coconut juice. wanda’s eyes fluttered close, a long and pronounced moan gracing your ears. she covered your hands with her own to hold the fruit, gulping the liquid into her parched mouth. she sighed as she finished, looking at you with a twinkle in her eyes.

she suggested, “we can eat the insides for breakfast, honey,” bending low toward the bedside to fetch her matching bra. you blushed at the recollection of last night. “i’m sure they have some honey in the kitchen somewhere…” you added, watching the tips of her peaks disappear into view.

wanda teased, “you like what you see?”, lightly slapping your face in the process in a playful manner. you tried to forget how her plump breasts felt in your hands as you suckled her dry, returning into the present moment of the beautiful day.

“i would like to eat,” you diverted the topic back into the fruit in your hands, which wasn’t successful as wanda raised an amused brow, pursing her lips together to fight back a smile. you pointed to the coconut to counter her silent reproach, giving her a light blush. “get your head outta gutter, ma’am,” you said and retreated to the kitchen before she could come up with a witty remark, which you’d most likely shut her up with a kiss.

wanda hums the tune from maroon 5’s sunday morning as she exits the indoor, clutching a wooden tray filled with food and replenishments. a board of charcuterie sits in the middle of the two piña coladas. you gasp at the precise detailing, “i’m not done,” blinking your eyes in anticipation, revealing a coconut with a straw strapped to the side. wanda caresses your hair, gives you a kiss on the forehead as you look up at her adoringly. “help yourself, angel,” she said before pecking your cheek. you mewl and melt at her service, appreciating the beautiful woman even more.

the drinks are astounding, satisfying your thirst for something cool in this caribbean summer heat, as well as your insufferable stomach—literal paradise—blinding your attention away from the oval-rimmed eyeglasses, but most especially, her gorgeousness in a bikini. “is that-“

wanda maximoff grins like a cheshire cat, “yes, angel, it’s the one you picked for me!” sometimes wanda does it, she sends you a fitting room pic of her in bikinis—and if you were blessed enough—lingeries—needing a different perspective of what looks flattering on her.

this particular bikini that clings onto her glistening skin is a green tie-front bandeau matched with a thin-string bikini bottom that leaves little to no imagination; highlighting the fullness of her hips down her voluminous thigh. her exposed tight stomach that has a small bruise on the side of her belly button, the heavy cups of her chest. you love how wanda never fails to wear something as if she was born with it and that it never leaves her skin.

you don’t realize until later that your mouth hangs open watching wanda cozy herself onto the beach chair next to you, laying it all out for the sea to see.

“oh,” you choke on your own spit, sight glued onto her cleavage. and if temptation could get any worse, sweat trickles down on the valley of it, getting envious (and more) of how close it is to where you want to be. stammering “you look-l-look-so look so marvelous, w-wan,” you gulp down your insistent saliva and grab the cool piña colada, biting hard on the straw as you sip in the flavor to replace the volcano on your tongue, before saying another that would jeopardize this peaceful, sunny day. (although it isn’t bad if it heads toward that direction.)

“you’re sucking so hard on it, princess,” wanda chuckles, “is it that tasty?” facing you now, leaning her weight against her right arm. her cleavage sag toward gravity, you fear it might actually fall off. short-circuiting for a moment, registering her question, her intention, and her innuendo. trying to calculate and rethink your response as you now, gently, sip the straw, sensing the coolness of your throat and skin, staring at the vast sea.

you turn your gaze on her nose, so wanda would think that you are brave enough to have a staredown with her striking olive green eyes. then you take another hard sip, hollowing your cheeks in the process, at the same time moaning loudly, rolling your eyes back. “oh yes,” you sigh, “it tastes so good, wan! would you like some?”

she grins like a proud mother, “yeah,” reaching for the other glass but you swat her hand away. “nuh-uh,” you spurn, shaking your index finger whilst you stand up from the chair. you take three slow, deliberate steps sipping on the cocktail, not breaking eye contact with her. wanda watches every move in a relaxed position, however, her eyes carry primacy and eagerness—she’s like a hawk with it.

you bat your eyes at her as you lower yourself down, dipping one knee on the beach chair in the open space of her glistening legs, at the same time resting the piña colada on the wooden tray. wanda scoots facing you, realizing what is up your sleeve. a shiver runs down your spine when she holds your love handles, positioning you in place. you swear to not have done anything but sit, like a moan, when she plops you down against her lap, her grip on your knees reluctant as if she’s trying not to clench on you too hard.

wanda’s specs tumble out of place for a second ‘cause you clip the loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear, taking your time. she whines, “i’m getting so thirsty!” jerking your body up and down, making your legs quiver, the friction of your cores heating your bundle of nerves.

sticking an index finger against her complaining lips only to pinch her jawbone to force an opening, without saying a word, you connect your mouth with hers, slowly pushing out the piña colada into her “parched” throat.

wanda flutters her eyes close and hums at the sensation, gulping it down, caressing your back in the process. sluggish and soft, fingertips against your shoulder blades. upward your hair, combing through them. and finally, your neck, massaging your nape in circular motions.

when you pull away you return a soft smile, giddy and grateful, reaching for the glass to give her some more. wanda’s wandering hands begin to become playful, toying with your bikini strap, stretching the fabric just to let it strike your skin. you hiss, slapping her hands away, yet she reprimands you with a smack on the ass. you sigh in relief for not having anything in your mouth.

more perspiration covers her milk skin, moaning at the liquid tantalizing her throat, and you who cannot help but bounce against her, the heat crawling through your body caused by not only the tropical heat of the island.

“princess, wanda whines, pushing your hips hard to stop you from bouncing like a bitch in heat, “what is it?” acting as if she doesn’t know what you’re asking for. “do you want to ride my thigh?”

or maybe she does.

nodding eagerly, you slide your hands over wanda’s arms to intertwine fingers, descending to land on her thigh. “don’t let me go,”

wanda shakes her head, relaxed, rubbing her thumb over, “how am i going to play with your nipples then, honey?”

that particular sentence made you grind hard on her, your pussy throbbing in anticipation. it’s all up to you though, so you begin to feel her voluptuous thigh at home between your legs, at home to be used by your needy pussy. “let me play with them, yeah?”

you allow wanda to let go of your hands, although it doesn’t stay dangling and out of place. she puts them around her waist, “there. so you have something to hold on to,” gathering your hair around her grip. “get on it, little girl. give me a great view.”

you do as told.

somehow, you always need wanda’s approval and permission before doing something that includes her, because it’s different with her. you utterly have faith that she would keep you safe, because most exciting things are dangerous. you become your truest, unapologetic self with her, dependent and clueless. wanda adores it, serving you, treating you like a princess.

hoarsely, “there we go, nice and slow for now, huh?” wanda stares at your whole frame, your legs automatically spreading wider, draping over the chair. she bites her lip, dragging her fingers over your thighs, as you increase your pace. you squeal, pressing your clad pussy against her thigh, “that’s what i’m talking about, baby. make yourself feel good for me,” whilst wanda encourages you with hunger.

you whimper, watching her watch you. blood rushes into your cheeks, bowing down to relieve the tension of being under wanda’s gaze, still unused to the pierce of her green eyes. you only look back when she begins fiddling with your top straps, teasing you with her next move.

you believe you know what’s about to happen and yet she lets them go, cupping your tits with her hands, kneading them into her calloused palms. you topple over at the pleasure, and she holds you up with your breasts, almost crushing them. the action causes you to let out a high-pitched whimper, casually rubbing yourself to take off the insufferable itch in your clit.

“oh god,” you sob when wanda pries the cups open without taking the top off, only setting them aside, as if she’s washing off sand from a seashell with her slender hands. “oh, oh!” feverishly you buck your hips, and “wanda!” a scream follows as she steps on her heel, her thigh going on a slope.

“that’s my pretty girl,” wanda husks, “keep moaning for me,” encouraging you. a simultaneous long moan erupts from both of you as she pinches your peaks, rolling them in between her fingers. a hungry grunt vibrates through her before diving into your tit, sucking it full with her mouth. your hand goes straight through her blonde hair, gripping it through the scalp, and then her shoulder where you find better leverage.

“that’s it-“ wanda huffs, “g-good, good, my good girl,” lost in the pleasure of sucking your chest. “yeah baby come for me-“

wanda guides your hips, setting a quick, solid rhythm. she pulses her heel up and down, and then it hits you,

“come for me, pretty girl. come for mommy-“

screaming and thrashing on top of her.

you crash against her chest, quivering all over, moan after moan tumbling out of your mouth, your hips still moving but at their own accord, with wanda’s hands resting on your buttcheeks. wanda hums when you quiet down, the vibration reaching your nipples, grazing you with a scream, cum dripping out of you. “dirty,” you mewl, referring to your soaked and sticky bikini bottom

wanda groans, “all mine,” palming your pussy through it, shoving her lips onto yours. you happily obliged, probing your tongue in her mouth, which she gladly accepted. massaging them together, suckling, and then nipping her lower lip, brushing your noses together.

“mhm!” you squeal as you pull away, giving wanda a radiant smile. she pinches your cheeks and pecks your nose. “okay then!” she claps her hands together, an eager woman with a plan. she kisses the side of your neck just below your ear. she pulls you away from her, settling you down in between her legs.

she gets up, get cozy, princess, mommy’s just gonna take something inside, okay?”

“mommy,” you whine, “can i come with?”

“no no, princess. it’s a surprise for you, okay? i’ll be back before you know it!” and then she’s gone.

you probably should have added “please” then she would’ve surely brought you in with her. but you do entertain yourself with the little time alone: rearranging glasses back in place, disregarding your wet bottom because wanda would take it off as usual, and finish the cocktail. you also spooned a bit of the coconut’s inside.

a loud chatter pulls you away from your little bubble, a group of people jet skiing echoing through the space. multiple arms wave in your direction, a booming “HELLO” as you wave back, blush coating your cheeks. you push your legs tight together. realizing the openness of the patio, you make a double take behind the place wanda has disappeared off, knowing that there’s more to come out of after your stunt, and most especially that you have brought her dominant side out here.

you drink wanda’s piña colada to pacify your nerves.

wanda isn’t scary, per se, she just gets super duper mega hot and towering—sometimes to the point of la petite mort—but this time the possibility of somebody else kayaking their way into your location makes you palpitate.

kayaking, the deliberate effort of rowing through this calm ocean—the agonizing trail of the canoes—it is something worse than a damn jet ski. this is driving you crazy!

“i’m sorry for the long wait, my darling. mommy couldn’t find it for a while ‘cause she’s thinking about you…”

you take a huge gulp, refusing to look at what's behind you. a hand ghosts on top of the beach chair. “it’s okay, wanda, i like the view here…”

“i know, princess. but it’ll look nicer if you see what mommy packed for you!”

this is her cue to come forward, blocking the peaceful view of the sea, showing her thick strap. you roll your eyes back, trembling all over, making her chuckle at the expected reaction, taking your hand to stroke her cock.

“i love the sound of your whimpers, baby. shows how much effect i have on you,” wanda husks, her desire of giving it to you palpable, because she dirty talks her way into your pussy as she does so. you gasp, “it’s big,” gripping the tip, feeling the faux veins coating the shaft. “you can take it, princess. i know it.”

“i don’t think so…” you dissent, shaking your head, at the same time anticipating it. but surely you can’t take it in you, it’ll hurt so bad. wanda shakes her head and palms your drenched clothed pussy before setting it aside.

she puts a finger in without warning, making you arch your back, a cry “mommy!” leaving your shocked mouth.

“now you’re calling me mommy,” she gives you a disapproving look, but urges you on smiling at the motion of you sucking her middle finger in fully without resistance. “i knew you’d be so wet, so i didn’t bring any lube.”

wanda takes her finger out and puts it in her mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of your cum. “mmm, i might just have to eat you out instead. would you want that, my princess?”

you nod your head rather aggressively, your face contorted in desperation. anything not to take her monster dick. however, wanda must’ve noticed your not-so-subtle calculation because she changes her mind, shaking her head, trying to hide her cheshire smirk.

“no,” she hum, “i think my tongue can wait for this sweet pussy. ‘cause then what’s gonna keep my baby girl’s boobs occupied?”

a squeal leaves your mouth as wanda drags your legs to the edge until it’s draping off the chair. you stick your legs together in the wind, your cum glistening on your pussy. wanda traces the slick that coats your inner thigh, just to get a rise out of you. she bites her lip in anticipation as she lubes her cock with your pussy juice, rubbing the tip over your clit.

“fuck,” she moans, “listen to it,” slapping it the toy against your pussy. “mommy,” you could only respond, already over the whole teasing fit. “please!”

“please what, princess?”

“plea-pl-“

she chuckles. wanda groans as she lines her cock in your opening, “use your words, darling. makes it easier for us,” waiting for you to vocalize.

you fling your hand forward to intertwine them with hers. “please fuck me, mommy. pleaseplease fill meplease!”

wanda whimpers.

“that’s my good girl.”

she enters you slowly, encouraging you to take deep breaths as she spreads your hole, tearing you open to get used to the size. your brows knit together at the sharp pain, mewling at the sensation. wanda peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw, distracting you from the initial process, “hey, hey, baby. it’s okay, mommy’s here–mommy will take care of you.”

your “thank you” gets swallowed by her lips, capturing yours in a languid tango, firm and warm in the tropical heat. your eyes flutter close alike battling sleep as, fighting the urge to just stay open because if you stare long enough at wanda’s eyelashes, you would be able to count them, but you settle with feeling it caressing your cheekbone. she breathes you in with each inhale, her hands coming to your cheeks to get a hold of you even more. you let out a keen for the numerous times she bites your lip, sliding her tongue in when you moan at the first thrust.

you break the kiss, “mommy,” giving her a pleading look. “please.”

she presents you a peck and nods her head, “oh yes,” beginning a pace. “is that okay, princess? does it hurt?”

“little only now, mommy. i like it,” you reply, taking her tongue in yours again.

“yeah?” she pulls away from the kiss, “you like mommy grinding down on you?” pushing in her length harder, her pace controlled. you hear the beach chair thud against the movement. your tits bounce at the same time, whimpering, tugging her hand, “faster please-“

“no, no. mommy’s gonna take her time, my love. i need to feel every inch of you before we get back. fuck! i’ve never fucked you in a bikini! it’s been in my bucket list for months now and i could finally-!”

wanda finds her pace, a grunt leaving her, pumping deeper into you, “-do this!” a cry leaving your swelling lips as your back arches in the process, her cock stuffing you full. “thank you, feels so good,” you slur, eyes rolling back, seeing the blue of cloudy skies. you think you begin to drool.

wanda makes an incoherent statement, her lower lip bitten to hold back her moans. a bucket of sweat forms on her forehead, little bubbles that slide down through her forehead and blushing face. her hair tangles in knots like a wet mop, clinging against her back.

her hands slither through your body, tracing patterns on your stomach, playing with your belly button. “you’re welcome,” she sighs, “anything for my favorite lady,” whispering over your ear, her hot puffs making your spine quiver. she nibbles your earlobe.

and your neck, sinking her teeth into flesh, planting a bruise, gripping your waist tight to pull you forward to meet her pounding. “ah fuck, wanda!” you yelp, as she stretches your pussy hole open and full. bucking her hips with no abandon, chasing that high that belongs in between your legs, her primal urge to please you—to hear you scream her name in your favorite vacation spot—to make you come apart only for her to build you back up.

“oh baby, uh,” wanda keens, clipping her hair out of the way of seeing you fucked out, “play with your tits, y/n. come on, please! show me your pretty bits,”

a high-pitched moan sounds out of you from wanda’s desperation, mimicking her movement a sex ago, setting your cups to the side. your fingers shake as you pinch and roll your nipples, your moans getting higher and prolonged the more you tug at them. your whole body spasms, thrashing under wanda who makes it her life’s mission to make you come around her cock.

you hear her chuckle close to your ear, licking a column of your neck, peppering kisses down onto your chest, replacing your fingers with her lips and tongue.

“so hard, so ha-“

“harder!” you sob, jackhammering your hips to meet hers, every snap ending with the sound of your juices thwacking around wanda’s big dick.

“hey, hey, princess look,” wanda slaps your face lightly to catch your attention, at the brink of tapping out, your brain unable to cope up with the situation anymore. you push your hoods open—screaming at the shock—the sight of wanda’s bare breasts bouncing up and down, looking so supple and fresh.

“mommy,” you whine, “i wanna suck you,”

how you managed to let that out you don’t know.

wanda whimpers, “oh baby,” purring as she downs her pace, “here princess,” taking one tit and holding in front of your mouth, “suck mommy good yeah?”

you only nod your head, speaking less to more. your mouth envelops in the hard peaks of the older woman, flicking it with your tongue before you actually suck it. wanda lets out a shaky breath, “y-yeah princess. be a good girl for mommy-“ driving her cock in your wet cunt in one swift thrust, frantic to hear you once more.

“y/n!” wanda writhes, the only leverage she has over you is her hands clenching your sides, “fuck fuckfuck me- mommy’s so close princess-!” screaming along with you.

“mommy, mommy,” you slur, attempting to wrap your legs around her waist but it’s too imposible with the energy you have. although wanda takes notice, helping you, wrapping one leg around her, whilst the other takes your hand the way you intended to in the first place. “yes, princess. mommy’s clo–come with me, please? come with me m’kay?”

repetitive words tumble out of wanda’s lips with the way her mind untangles as well, lost in the pleasure of having you fucked brainless. her tit falls off your mouth when you fling your head back, nearing into your climax. one more thrust—

a familiar loud chatter enters your hearing, pointing toward your direction, wanda noticing the same thing as she pauses for a beat, and before shame could creep into your head, she jolts her hips recklessly, fucking you with a few visitors.

“fuck yeah? we got an audience, baby. better give them our best sho-“

wanda chokes out a sob the same time as you, convulsing and trembling together at the climax. multiple expletives grunts out of her filthy mouth, complementing your sputtering.

wanda screams the same time as you do, crashing together. multiple expletives come out of her filthy mouth, complementing your whiny sounds.

“m-mommy!” you whine, drool dripping out of your mouth, “please–“ wanda grinning down at you, the loud chatter that once was powerful now weak and non-existent. “yes princess?” she purrs, washing the orgasm out of you. “i think you made them shut up, baby,” she chuckles breathlessly, her face red and wet. “but…we’re not done yet.”

you whine, exhaustion already painted all over you. “nope,” wanda pops the p and fixes your disheveled hair. you look so fucked out, not even a workout excuse is going to hide that.

“i just…” wanda takes her time to come up with something, a sugarcoated truth, maybe? or a white lie?

“…i wanna put all my cum inside you,” she lets out quietly, batting her eyes at you.

you cry with your legs spread open and shaking, ropes of cum filling your pussy hole. wanda giggles and moves her cock in a sensual pace, making sure nothing goes to waste.

“i’m so full mommy!”

“so full of my cum! how does it feel being filled with cum, huh, princess?”

you can barely open your eyes at this point, but wanda insists, slapping your face lightly to catch your short attention span. “you like it?”

“yes, mommy. makes me wanna suck you,” you whimper as wanda moans. “i’ll fuck my cum in you some more and then i’ll get to fuck your face?”

“yes, you offer breathlessly, drifting off. she takes your chin so you could face her, “no, no,” giving you a demanding look, “yes what?”

she puts her thumb in your mouth and you automatically suck. “yes, mommy.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #marvel smut #wlw smut

2K notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...

AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?

Hear me out:

The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.

Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.

Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.

I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.

It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.

Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:

Grandpa's.

Fuckin'.

Cheesebarn.

Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.

Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.

But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"

All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.

Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.

All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.

Then C drops off the face of the earth.

She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.

Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"

And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."

lolwut

And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".

No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

527 notes · View notes

kultofkorii · 5 days

Text

− Tired

✎ your fav x reader

♦︎summary: your boyfriend is tired after a long day, and tries to convince you to come to bed

♦︎word count: 300+

♦︎warnings: none, short

Men who like to hug you from behind while you're busy. Their scent overwhelming you and simultaneously calming you. You can feel their chest against you back, rising and falling with each breath they take. Their warm arms wrapped around your waist, snugly, as if they were make to be placed there. Your face shifts to an expression of amusement, mind being taken off of your current task.

,,and just what do you think you're doing, Sir?,,

,,mmm... just seeing what you're up to, was getting lonely without you,, His husky voice sending vibrations through your upper back and chest. From the low pitch of his voice alone, you could tell he was about five minutes from collapsing in exhaustion.

,,you sound tired baby, why haven't you gone to bed yet?,, You questioned him, but continued with your task at hand. You felt him squeeze lightly at your waist, rubbing small circles where one of his hands rest on your stomach. You release a content hum, relaxing every more into his hold.

,,come t' bed with me, please?,, He rasps out, anyone who didn't know him well, wouldn't be able to notice the whine in his voice. You take pride in how much you know your man, quirks, ambitions and all, there was nothing he could do that would get past you.

Not even his light manipulation; he knew the affect his voice laced with sleep had on you. Knew you couldn't resist him, especially when he was in the mood for cuddles which was few and far between.

,,okay, just let me finish this and I'll be right with you-,, he cut you off, pulling you impossibly closer to his body, as if trying to fuse you into becoming one.

,,you can finish t'morrow, you always over work 'ya self,, His words began to slur together, his tiredness getting the better of him. You supposed it would be better to abide by his wishes, before he falls asleep where you both stand and traps you here; a common occurrence.

,,alright big guy, come on, you win,, Your hand intertwines with his as you pull him with you to your shared bedroom. Your eyes growing heavy as you make your way to that sweet mattress where you could bundle up with your love under warm comforters.

♦︎note: This is really me just testing out the waters before I really start writing. I haven't written in a long time, so I'd really love if you all would send me any requests you have! 😊

359 notes · View notes

storytowrite · 15 days

Text

|The FINE Art ~ Hwang Hyunjin|

Theme: Art Student! Hyunjin x Y/N

Warnings: mention of nudity, smut, 18+, unprotected sex, the age gap Y/N is 15 years older than Hyunjin.

Word Count: 5257

Summary: Life wasn’t easy for you. You lost your job, lost your husband who remarried and took everything away leaving you only with an old, sick cat. You desperately needed money. Thankfully, your friend is an art teacher and your body is quite tempting. Especially for the young, talented student.

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

“I’m sorry ma’am, but the cat needs surgery if you want it to live longer. We cannot wait long.” The vet said his verdict. Your old cat, Lemon, was ill, and you knew that. The thing was that you didn’t have enough money and you were in a really bad situation.

“How much is for the surgery?” You asked.

“It will cost about $3000 in total with all the care.” The vet answered your question and you sighed heavily. Why on Earth does it cost so much?! And more importantly - how will you gather all the money needed?

“All right… If that’ll help him, please do everything you can. I can’t lose him too.” You said tiredly.

“We’ll do everything we can to save this little boy.” The vet smiled at you honestly.

You nodded and left your cat at the vet’s clinic. It wasn’t a good timing for such expenses, but you had to do everything you could to just save your animal. You sighed heavily once again. The previous week was hard and now this. Your life was a mess. You lost the job, since your boss decided to hire “some younger girls” and you were simply too old in his eyes.

The divorce process was finally over. But unfortunately your ex-husband took everything he could, including your apartment. Because of this, you had to move in with your friend, at least until you get back on your feet again. Fortunately, Lina was happy to help you.

You returned home wasted and without your cat, which you left at the veterinary clinic. You wanted to cry. Earning $3,000 in a short time seemed unrealistic. Well, because how to do it?

"Oh Y/N are you back already?" Asked Lina peering at you from above another artwork she was working on. "Everything ok baby?"

"No, nothing is ok. Lemon needs surgery and I don't have that much money to pay for it. And I still can't find a job. Everything is falling apart for me." You sat down heavily on the couch. "And I also need to find an apartment and..."

"Woah, slow down honey. I don't mind your company. You and Lemon can stay with me as long as you need, after all, you know that.... And as for work, I think I have an idea." She smiled slightly at you. You knew that kind of smile from Lina's genre of brilliant ideas.

"Oh no, why do I feel like I'm going to regret this?" You asked, looking at your friend.

"Don't exaggerate, it's nothing like that.... Besides, we'll both benefit from it."

"Fine, what's the idea?" You asked, slightly curious.

"Great... you'll love it!" She clapped her hands.

After an hour of talking to your friend and her persuading you, you finally agreed to help her with her little project. Lina was a drawing teacher in the art department, and her students were just starting to learn how to sketch real people. They needed a model for this, since the topic was THE FEMALE BODY.

At first you had a lot of concerns. Lina wanted you to pose nude in front of a group of some of her top students. You had huge objections to this. You didn't feel like showing your body to strangers in their twenties. But you had no choice. The deal was simple, 10 sessions at $300 each, for a maximum of five hours per class. That is, two weeks of work. You were able to do it, right?

"I don't know Lina, I have to think about it..." You said, glancing at her.

"Just don't make me wait too long for your answer.... Besides, you have a beautiful body for our age, so what's the problem?" She asked lightly.

"What do you mean what's the problem? I'm supposed to show off to a group of 20-year-olds? After all, they are children!"

"Honey, these are young adults. Besides, they are just a few people. I'd rather pay you than some strangers. Think of Lemon. He needs this operation.... And if you prove yourself, who knows? Maybe I'll hire you permanently?" She persuaded you further.

" Oh, hell no... I'll find a job, eventually." You replied quickly. "But fine. I'll take part in it..." You agreed, sighing heavily. "Just so I don't regret it..."

"Believe me, you won't and you'll even like it!" She replied excitedly. "We'll start first thing tomorrow morning! Prepare yourself properly, you know, shave and.... "

"Okay, I'll prepare properly.... Anything else?" You asked in a tired voice, interrupting her sentence.

"Hm... take some clothes to change into.... And well, put on some nice underwear. Tomorrow we start with the upper body. The students will sketch your torso and breasts above all. Well, and tie your hair in a ponytail, it will be easier to see your collarbones.... But that's at ease, I'll tell you everything exactly tomorrow." She grinned. "Go rest, I still have to finish here."

You sighed heavily and went straight to the bathroom, following your friend's directions. You still weren't convinced about the idea, but the situation forced you to do so. You felt stress above all. You may have had a nice, fit body, but you certainly weren't used to showing it to strangers.

After a long and warm shower, you headed to your bedroom, where you fell asleep rather quickly. The next day would be a very long one...

The next day you got up early, got dressed and did light makeup. You left your hair loose, for now at least. Later you'll tie it up in a ponytail. Your friend had already been bustling around in the kitchen since morning.

"Good morning! Ready for today's challenges?" Asked a delighted Lina.

"Mhm, I won't be any more than I am." You muttered uneasily.

"Oh grumpy... Come on, or we'll be late." Lina didn't seem to mind your dissatisfaction.

"And breakfast?" You asked.

"We don't have time... you'll get something on the spot." Your friend waved her hand and pulled you with her to the exit. You left her apartment and headed for the car. The trip to the university didn't take long, but you were getting more and more stressed with each passing moment. No wonder, after all, you will be posing naked....

You entered the university and headed straight to the room where the classes would be held. Lina showed you everything inside and once again reminded you what to do and how to do it. Your task was quite simple. All you had to do was show some breasts and sit still on a stool for a good couple of hours.

The students began to fill the room, and you heard Lina greeting them cheerfully. You sighed quietly. It's going to be a long couple of hours.

"Dear students, I have a little surprise for you today." You heard your friend's words. "A good friend of mine has agreed to get herself acquainted with us. As I said, you will learn sketching on a living organism.... Y/N come join us and show yourself to our students."

You took a deeper breath and stepped out from behind the screen. You stressed all over. You stood in the middle, right next to your friend, trying not to catch eye contact with any of the students in the room.

You quickly swept your eyes around the room. There were eight students in the classroom, three girls and five boys. They looked rather uninterested. You glanced out of the corner of your eye at Lina, who continued her argument.

"Y/N will be our model today. Please be nice to her, she has never done this before. Today we'll take care of the upper body. Your task is to reproduce Y/N's torso and breasts. We sketch from the neck until we reach this point." Lina showed them exactly how much to sketch. "Y/N honey, take off your top and bra and sit on the stool. Do any of you have any questions?"

The students did not answer Lina's question. You, on the other hand, with slightly trembling hands, undressed from the waist up and sat on the stool. Your friend even gave you a pillow to make you more comfortable.

"Great, push your breasts out a little more and..." Lina began to correct your positioning. "Perfect! Okay darlings, you can begin."

The group of students got down to sketching. You swept your eyes around the room. Everyone was focused to make the best possible representation of your body. Lina walked among the students and glanced at their progress.

Time passed quickly. The students worked in silence. None of them had spoken a word since they entered the room. They were focused on the task at hand.

One of the men present in the room caught your attention. You had never seen such a handsome man before. He had noble features, his hair was slightly longer and black. He had an earring under his eyebrow, and a black leather jacket perfectly framed his body.

You swallowed your saliva. The man looked like a prince, and there was plenty of finesse and elegance in his movements. You honestly couldn't take your eyes off him. There was something about him that attracted you to him, something magnetic that you could not describe in words.

The man in question noticed your gaze. It was as if he sensed that you were looking at him. He raised his gaze slightly, looking deeply into your eyes, and gently raised his eyebrow. You felt a blush appear on your face and your throat suddenly became dry. A strange feeling welled up in your lower abdomen as he smiled slightly and winked at you.

"All right my dears. Let's take a break for a while." Lina suddenly announced, breaking the silence that had prevailed. "Let's let Y/N stretch her legs.... Come back here in 15 minutes and we'll continue."

The students put down their sketches and began to leave the room for the break, and Lina handed you a sweatshirt to cover yourself. She smiled warmly at you in the process.

"Well? Not so bad, huh?" She asked.

"It's fine... Although I was stressed." You replied and took a sip of water. "Your students aren't very talkative, are they?"

"As artists are."

"I thought there would be more students in the room." You said, sipping water again.

"Nah, I have a small group. But they are the best of the best.... You could say it's such a VIP class." Lina laughed. "You know, it's an extra class for the more ambitious ones."

"Oh, now I understand..." You nodded, and your thoughts fled to the mysterious boy with an earring under his eyebrow.

"Would you like to take a peek at the sketches? The students really sketched your body very well..." Lina took one sketchbook in her hand, belonging to the boy you were looking at. "Oh look, Hyunjin did it the best. That boy can perfectly render every detail.... He's my top-of-the-class student." She smiled proudly. So the boy's name was Hyunjin.

"Wow... This is amazing." You said, sincerely impressed by the way Hyunjin rendered all the details. He even sketched the delicate birthmark you had under your breast.

"Right?" Lina asked. "If you ask Hyunjin nicely, he might give you his sketch..." She winked. "He has a real talent, and by the way he looks like Aphrodite herself conceived him. He could be a model, but there's a rule at the university that students can't pose, which is a shame..." She sighed quietly. "I myself sometimes wish I could see..."

"Lina! This is your student..." reprimanded your friend.

"I know, that's why I leave some things only in dreams." She laughed quietly. "Hungry? I'll get you something to eat." As she said, so she did, quickly leaving the room.

You sighed softly and your stomach growled. Not eating breakfast before leaving was a mistake. You glanced at your watch. The break was slowly coming to an end and your friend had not yet returned with the promised food. In turn, students slowly began to return to the room.

"Hungry?" You suddenly heard a voice behind you. You turned to look at the owner. In front of you stood Hyunjin, who was a head taller than you. He smiled slightly and handed you a banana. "Eat... you've got another 2.5 hours of sitting ahead of you."

“T-Thank you…” You said, taking the banana from him and peeling it right away.

"You welcome... I wanted to say that you have really beautiful breasts." He said, looking you straight in the eye. "I can't wait for the next few days to see the rest."

"Oh thank you?" You replied slightly confused and blushed slightly.

"Nothing." Hyunjin winked at you.

"Okay, guys! We can get back to work!" Lina called as she entered the room. "Y/N, please sit down the same way you sat before. Perfect! Remember, there are 2.5 hours left until the end of time. At the end of the day, you should have at least five sketches."

Everyone went back to work. The banana Hyunjin gave you, calmed your stomach for a while. You sighed quietly, sitting half-naked on the stool. Honestly, you were counting down the minutes until the end.

Every now and then you found yourself staring at Hyunjin, who was working intently on the sketches of your body. You couldn't take your eyes off him. He was too handsome to resist. You didn't even feel that time had passed quickly.

Lina announced the end of class and let you get dressed. Students slowly began to file out of the room. You watched them leave, saying a quiet 'goodbye'. Your friend approached you after everyone else had left the room."You were great today." She grinned.

"I'm taking you to dinner, come on! And mentally prepare for tomorrow. We'll show them a little more... Can you handle it?"

"Yes, I think I can... Although I don't know if I want to show them everything." You started.

"Well, tomorrow's plan is legs... you can have a thong, we'll move on to the private parts at the end of the week, and next week we'll have poses... Well, I think you should be able to handle everything easily." Lina continued.

“Mhm, if you say so…” You muttered. The prospect of showing your private parts to students didn't make you feel optimistic, but when you thought about Hyunjin, it didn't sound so bad either...

—-------------------

The week flew by very quickly. The students tried to accurately portray all the details of your body on paper. On Friday, the last day of the first week, there was a class on sketching 'private body parts', as Lina called it. And that meant you had to show your vagina.

The thought of this did not fill you with any optimism at all. You didn't want to expose yourself so much in front of the students, but Lina forced it on you. To be fair, she did suggest that she would pay you more for the day, so with a slight hesitation you agreed.

You sat in the room wrapped only in a silk dressing gown and waited for the class to start. Your friend went to talk to the dean, leaving you alone. You sighed quietly and stuck your gaze into your phone, trying to calm your thoughts.

Hyunjin entered the room, but you were so busy with your social media that you didn't notice his presence. The boy walked over to his stand and unpacked all the necessary items before turning towards you.

"Hi pretty." He said in a velvety voice, snapping you out of your activity. "What are you going to show us today?" He asked and winked slightly.

"Ekhm... Private parts." You replied feeling a little intimidated, looking up at him.

"And you're convinced about that?" He asked. "You look confused and scared."

"Well, it's certainly quite a step out of my comfort zone.... But I can't back down now." You answered honestly.

"I understand... If it's any comfort to you, I'll try to replicate everything very accurately." He smiled.

"Thanks I guess..." She grunted. "I've seen your work before. You have great talent," he said.

"Thank you, beautiful." He smiled warmly at you. "But the credit goes to the model I sketch." He winked, and a blush appeared on your cheeks. "It suits you this colour, you know? I wish I could paint a picture of you. In a red see-through nightgown.... What do you think?"

"A painting?" You blinked, not expecting such a proposal. "I don't know..."

"I have to create a portfolio for the final exam.... I've already painted three paintings of my friends, but I still have one left. And you are beautiful. I'll pay." He replied, watching your reaction.

"I have to think about it..." You replied, but didn't finish the sentence because he walked in on you in mid-word.

"I understand." He replied and wrote something down on a piece of paper. " Here, this is my phone number, if you make a decision, just text me..." He handed you a small piece of paper with the number on it. "Just don't make me wait too long for an answer, lovely."

"R-right." You replied and hid his number in a safe place.

The rest of the students entered the room, along with your friend, who smiled broadly at you. She welcomed the students and gave them the guidelines for the assignment.

"Well Y/N. Sit with your hands behind your back and push your chest forward a little too. And spread your legs..." She said to you and helped you adjust your position. "My dears, you may begin. "

Sitting apart in front of a group of people has not been one of the most comfortable activities in your life. However, you didn't pay much attention to it yourself. Your thoughts were consumed with Hyunjin's proposal. Should you accept it? He said he would pay, and so far there was no indication that you would find a job....

You decided to give it a chance and agree to his proposal. After all, it's just another day's work as a "model." You survived a whole week in front of students, you'll survive being alone with Hyunjin too.

Before you knew it, the class was over and the students had left the room, and you were free to get dressed. Lina was still talking to individuals while you typed Hyunjin's number into your phone. You made up your mind and as soon as he left the room, you texted him.

[Y/N]

Ok. I agree.... When do you want to do it? ~ Y/N

[Hyunjin]

Wonderful news sweetheart! Let's meet tomorrow evening at my place. Remember, red nightgown 😘

He wrote back almost immediately. You swallowed your saliva. What are you actually doing?

—-------------------

The next day you went to the address Hyunjin sent you in a text message. You were stressed. You didn't know what it should look like or how long it would take. Your body trembled and your mind wandered into dangerous territory. You felt both apprehension and excitement about the whole situation.

You stood in front of the door of his apartment. You took a few deep breaths and knocked gently. You waited, listening for the sound of footsteps. After a while, the young man opened the door for you and let you in with a smile.

"I'm glad you agreed." He said, taking over your coat from you. "Make yourself comfortable... Would you like something to drink before we start? Coffee? Tea? Water? Maybe wine?"

"Water is enough... Although I won't actually despise wine either." You replied and timidly entered his living room.

The room was large, definitely bigger than your friend's entire apartment. Not surprising, after all, Hyunjin lived in one of the more expensive neighbourhoods in your city. The white leather furniture, laced with gold accessories, perfectly matched the aura that this man was producing. Everything seemed truly royal.

"Wow." You gasped in awe.

"Do you like it? My parents made sure I was comfortable in the city.... Would you like a tour of the apartment?" He asked, handing you a glass of red wine.

"I'd love to... If I can, of course." You accepted the drink from him and took a sip.

The boy showed you his entire apartment. He had three bedrooms, but he had transformed one into a studio, and the other was used as a dressing room.

"Okay, ready for us to start?" He asked as you walked through the apartment.

"I think so." You replied hesitantly.

"Great!" He smiled broadly. "Come on, I'll paint you in the studio... I'll get everything ready and you can go and change in the bathroom. Leave when you're ready. It'll take me a while to paint though... It'll take all weekend, actually. But like I said, I'll pay. $1000 is enough?"

"H-how much?" You were stunned when you heard the amount he gave.

“If it's not enough, just tell me…” He replied, watching you.

"Not enough? I didn't expect it to be so much..." You started. "It's too much…"

"Hmm... I don't think so." He shrugged. "We'll talk about it later... You can go change in the bathroom now and I'll set everything ready here." He said, unimpressed.

“Sure…” You replied and headed to the bathroom. $1000 to pose? You were shocked. How much money does this young man actually have?

After a few minutes you were ready. You looked at your reflection in the mirror. You were wearing a slightly see-through red nightgown that hugged your body perfectly and highlighted all your curves. You decided to leave your hair down, but you put a small decoration in it. You fixed your delicate makeup and went out to Hyunjin.

"Wow, you look amazing." He said as soon as he noticed you. "Like I said, this colour suits you very well."

"Thank you." You replied, slightly embarrassed.

"Okay, you can lie down." He pointed to a small sofa in the center of the room. "I would like you to lie down comfortably, and if you want to sleep, just close your eyes. The only thing that matters is that you stay in the position I put you in."

“Sure, I can do it…” You replied and followed his directions. You settled into a comfortable position on the sofa and Hyunjin stood over you. He leaned down gently and positioned your body. His touch was pleasant. You felt the nice warmth radiating from his body.

"Perfect." He said and smiled contentedly. "Okay, let's get started. If you want a break then say so."

Hyunjin began to paint. You lay there without moving, watching his every move. You began to wonder how it was that your life had brought you to the point where you were.

Hyunjin painted in concentration, and there was silence between the two of you. You didn't seem to mind. You felt your eyelids become heavy and you didn't even know when you fell asleep.

You woke up after some time and stretched slightly. It was already twilight outside. You looked around the room you were in. Hyunjin was nowhere to be found. You stood up and stretched your stagnant body again. You were curious to see how Hyunjin's progress was going, but before you could get closer to the painting, the door of the room opened.

"Oh, you're awake already." Hyunjin smiled slightly. "Hungry? Come, I've prepared dinner."

Only when the boy mentioned food did you feel that you were actually hungry. You followed him into the kitchen, where delicious smells were coming from.

"You are handsome, you paint and you cook. Is there anything you can't do?" You asked, sitting down at the table. Hyunjin glanced at you laughing.

"Thank you for the compliment, beautiful." He winked, at which you blushed. He served you dinner and you began to eat.

"Enough with the painting for today, it's late." Hyunjin said. "If you want, you can stay the night.... We'll start again first thing tomorrow morning anyway."

"I don't want to get..." You started.

"But that's not up for discussion." He interrupted you in mid-sentence. "It's late, I don't want you to go home when it's dark outside.... I'll prepare a bed for you."

"Hyunjin, but really..." You started again but his one look left you unsure what to say next. "Okay. I'll stay the night."

"Great." He smiled at you. "Come on, I'll give you something to sleep on..."

" You know, after all, I can sleep in what I'm wearing." You replied while watching him.

"Believe me, if you stay in this red nightgown, I won't hold back." He replied with full seriousness.

"Oh..." You made a sound. " All right..."

You followed him to his dressing room, which occupied the other room. Hyunjin walked over to a cabinet and pulled out an oversized hoodie and handed it to you. "It should fit." He smiled slightly.

"Thank you." You replied with a slight smile. "I'll take a shower."

Hyunjin nodded and you parted the rooms. You went to the bathroom to take a quick shower, and a pleasant feeling once again settled in your lower abdomen. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was in the bedroom preparing a place for you to sleep.

After some time, you came out of the bathroom in his hoodie. You could smell his perfume lingering on his clothes. You smiled slightly, to yourself. His scent was so soothing.

"Do you like the smell?" You suddenly heard his voice behind you, at which you jumped slightly.

"Y-yes." You stuttered, at which the boy smiled.

"I have to say, no matter what you're wearing, you're every bit as beautiful." He said, walking closer to you. "I like you Y/N."

"Thank you, I guess..." You took a gentle step back unsure of where this conversation was leading.

"When I say I like you, I really mean it." Hyunjin leaned slightly over you and brushed lightly against your waist. You swallowed your saliva as you looked straight into his eyes, your back resting against the wall. Hyunjin was leaning with his hand right next to your head and his body was leaning against yours. You bit your lip slightly and gently moved your legs, feeling yourself slowly getting wet. The situation you found yourself in was definitely not on your bingo card.

"Hyunjin, we don't..." You began, trying to keep up any semblance of a smile yet. However, his closeness and magnetic scent were too tempting to resist.

"Shhhsh." The boy moved his thumb over your swollen lips. "You don't even realise how sexy you look right now." He whispered in your ear while biting your earlobe, which was met with a quiet sigh that left your lips. You felt his gentle smile as he moved closer to your neck and gently moved his velvety lips across it. "You like it." He stated, observing your reaction to his touch. "I wonder if you'll like this too." He added and moved his hands a little lower, slipping them under the hoodie.

"Hyunjin, it's not..." You started, but feeling his long fingers glide across your skin, leaving goosebumps on it, you were unable to control your senses. Hyunjin's lips attacked your neck more boldly, and you tilted your head further back so he could have better access.

Hyunjin glided his lips along your neck looking for weak spots, and once he found them, he immediately started leaving red hickeys in those spots, which was met with your moans of approval.

You rested your hands on his torso, and the young man delicately lifted you up, grabbing your buttocks. You put your legs around his waist as his lips found their way right to yours.

"I want you." He whispered, brushing his lips lightly against yours. "And I know you want me too. Say it."

"Please." You said quietly.

"You're asking? For what?" He asked backing away slightly which was met with your disapproval.

"Kiss me, please." You moaned pleadingly. Hyunjin smiled at you and pressed his lips into yours. His kiss was firm and forceful, but that's what you liked best. You moaned blissfully into his mouth as he grabbed your buttocks tighter. Hyunjin took this as a sign of approval and carried you to his bedroom.

Hyunjin put you on the bed immediately, finding himself above you. His knee came between your legs pressing lightly on your spot. He leaned over a little more and cupped your hoodie with his hands.

"You are phenomenal." He said, watching you. His hands moved over every bare patch of your body, exploring every inch of it. Following his hands, Hyunjin placed you on the bed immediately finding himself over you. His knee came between your legs pressing lightly on your spot. He leaned over a little more and cupped your hoodie with his hands. His hands moved over every bare patch of your body, exploring every inch of it. His hands were followed by his lips, which also explored your body. He left wet footprints in his path, interspersed with huge hickeys.

You moaned blissfully when his lips found their way to your lower abdomen. You felt his smile against your skin. Hyunjin gently spread your legs and moved his hand over your core. Your reaction encouraged him to continue.

He bit lightly on the inside of your thighs, which was met with your slight jump. His strong hands, however, held your body as his mouth took up your pussy, embracing it completely.

You moaned loudly and slid your hand into his hair. You pulled his hair gently as his tongue penetrated your insides, melting with pleasure.

Hyunjin drove you to pleasure, and your body arched in an accompaniment of moans. The young man licked and returned his lips to your mouth, kissing you. You immediately responded to his kiss, hungry for his velvety lips.

Your hands moved over his body. You wanted to get rid of his clothes as quickly as possible. Hyunjin laughed quietly.

"So eager, huh? Patience darling, be good and you'll get what you deserve." He said amused and helped you undress himself. Once he was standing naked, you moved your hands over his penis, which was already ready for use. "I don't have condoms..." The boy began.

" Doesn't matter, I want to feel you, now, right now, please!" You moaned needily.

"I like the way you are asking." He snarled quietly and slid his full length into you.

"Oh yes!" You whined loudly and moved your hands down his back as he began to move.

His movements became faster and less precise. He went deep, perfectly attacking your g-spot. Your and his moans filled the entire room.

"Hyunjin! I…" You started digging your nails into his soft skin.

"Come on baby, cum for me." He groaned loudly. "Fuck!"

"I'm cumming!" You moaned loudly, clenching around him.

A few seconds later, you felt warmth spreading through your insides. Hyunjin collapsed on top of you after a moment, his head resting between your full breasts. You were both breathing heavily.

“You are my muse." He murmured after a while. "Be my muse forever?"

"With pure pleasure." You replied quietly, gently stroking his back, making him smile.

"You know what? You are the FINE art." He said. "My muse."

And After an eventful night, you both fell asleep cuddling together.

-> Masterlist

157 notes · View notes

momojedi · 1 month

Note

Could I have #88 and #97 with Captain Rex, pretty please...??

JUST MARRIED PAIRING: Captain Rex x GN! Reader

#88 | “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…” #97 | “I want you and I know you want me too.”

GENRE: Fluff WARNING: none A/N: Since I got prompted #88 by an anon who asked for no one in particular, I mixed up your request with theirs. Thanks for requesting!

MASTERLIST | MOMOJEDI'S 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

"Mhi solus tome,

Mhi solus dar’tome.

Mhi me’dinui an,

Mhi ba’juri verde."

Intense concentration furrows my brow as I massage my temples, striving to translate the unfamiliar words. "For fuck's sake," I mutter, frustration punctuating each syllable as I kick a nearby pebble with surprising strength, eliciting a muffled groan and the metallic clang of beskar as it ricochets off a distant helmet.

Two weeks may not seem long, especially when operating undercover among a terrorist faction whilst the galaxy is engulfed in war. It would probably be advisable to keep a cool head and avoid making a big deal out of insignificant subjects—such as unfamiliar phrases. However, when those words escape the lips of your longtime crush, delivered with an unexpected fervor while locking passionate eyes with you in a language foreign to your ears...

Well, needless to say, I've devoted more time to overthinking it than I care to admit.

When General Skywalker tasked us with shadowing Death Watch until the Jedi Council reached more intel, I hadn't given it much thought... admittedly, he hadn't specified that by "us" he didn't mean Ahsoka and me, as usual, but rather the captain of the 501st and myself—the very someone I've harboured feelings for since the day we met.

Nevertheless, I maintained my composure, played my part, and stayed under the radar, much like Rex, until Death Watch proposed an elaborate ceremony—a ceremony whose name I could barely pronounce, let alone understand its significance. Before any suspicion could arise, Rex quickly agreed in my place, and now here I am, entangled in some eerie ritual with a military captain whose gaze seemed entranced, so intense was his focus.

"If I had my datapad right now...," I hiss under my breath, casting blame on whoever decided I should leave my sole translation device behind. Likely Skywalker.

The crunch of gravel under heavy boots interrupts my daydreaming. I spin around sharply, only to find the very man haunting my mind approaching. "I figured I'd find you here," Rex hums as he settles beside me. "Yeah," I reply with a dry laugh, brushing the dust off my hands. "Sorry, I suppose I just needed... alone time. After everything yesterday, you know?" Rex's eyes widen almost comically, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "Oh... yeah."

The ensuing silence gnaws at my nerves, prompting me to pop the question after another agonising five minutes. "Hey, about that... what did those words mean, anyway?" "I'm not sure what you're referring to," Rex responds, avoiding my gaze. I gulp. He can't have forgotten, can he? "Come on, Rex... It seemed significant." After a moment's hesitation, Rex sighs, running a hand over his buzzcut before raising his head to face me, though still evading it. "I..." "Yes?" "Alright, fine. [Name], don't panic, but... we might have accidentally... gotten married."

...

"WHAT?"

"Shh!" Rex quiets me with a gentle hand over my mouth, his eyes darting cautiously around us before he releases me. I shake my head slowly, puzzled. "Sorry, but what?" "The, um, the words... they were Mandalorian wedding vows," he admits, his tone tinged with uncertainty. I can't help but laugh. Married? Us? "You're joking." "Unfortunately not," he replies, a slight smile tugging at his lips, before his expression shifts to sheepishness as he rubs the back of his neck. "Though I do believe you'd make an excellent partner." Suppressing a chuckle, I ignore the warmth creeping into my cheeks.

"Actually, I realized we needed a distraction when I overheard some members gossiping behind our backs. They were growing suspicious, so I thought perhaps they'd relax if we participated in some traditions." Rex sighs, examining a pebble he's picked up. I shoot him a hopeful sidelong glance before quickly looking away, feeling my heart quicken.

Force, this man is captivating.

Silence envelops us once more as we both drift deeper into our own thoughts. When I sense the gravel shifting under his weight, I raise an eyebrow. "It wouldn't bother me, you know?" A lump forms in my throat, causing a series of coughs to escape at his words. "Wh-what?" "Being with you." Suddenly, his warm yet weighty hand finds mine. Sweat prickles at my heated skin as I keep my gaze fixed ahead.

"R-rex, are you suggesting...?" "[Name]," he interrupts, turning to face me. Before I can evade his gaze, he gently lifts my chin, compelling me to meet his eyes. I run my tongue over my dry lips, which his gaze is now fixated on. "I want you. And I know you want me, too." His proximity sends shivers down my spine as goosebumps ripple over my arms and back. His newfound confidence is palpable. "I've noticed the way you look at me, how you stare. I know, [name]," he murmurs against my lips, "what do you think?"

I flush, gripping his wrist as I lock eyes with his warm gaze. "I think you're right." Rex chuckles deeply, resonating like a rumble in his chest. "Good." And before I realize it, his lips meet mine,

Time seems to slip away as I surrender completely to the kiss. Eventually, Rex pulls back, leaving me breathless, and flashes me a mischievous grin.

“So, about that wedding night…”

206 notes · View notes

faye-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

welp here we go again

INCORRECT QUOTES TIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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

Y/n: petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday Dream: Wednesay Y/n: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

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

Y/n: Dream, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power! Dream: Well of course I have. Dream: Have you ever tried going mad without power? Dream: It's boring.

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

Y/n: Today is a day of running through hurdles. Ranboo: Aren’t you supposed to jump OVER hurdles? Y/n: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

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

Y/n: Ranboo... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? Ranboo: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Y/n: Y/n: I wrote sanitize, Ranboo

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

Y/n: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail Sapnap: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

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

Y/n: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Sapnap: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

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

George: Welcome, fellow idiots Y/n: Hello, George George: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot Y/n: You underestimate me

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

George: *Gets down on one knee* Y/n: Oh my god, it’s finally happening. George: *Falls over* Y/n: The poison is kicking in.

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

Tommy: Change is inedible. Y/n: Don't you mean inevitable? Tommy, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

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

Tommy: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Y/n's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get them out...

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

Tubbo: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running? Y/n: Oh, I’m always running Y/n: The question is from what

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

Tubbo: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Y/n: It’s not a joke. Y/n: *sniffles* Y/n: I’m a legit snack.

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

Foolish: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao Y/n: What did you do op? Foolish: A MISTAKE

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

Y/n: Foolish... Foolish: Oh no, 'Foolish' in b-flat. Foolish: You're disappointed.

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

Technoblade: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Y/n: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Technoblade, desperately, as Y/n bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Y/n: Oh! B positive. Technoblade: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Y/n:

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

Technoblade, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. Y/n: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Technoblade, with the tone of someone who is used to Y/n: Outstanding. Technoblade: This is what I’m talking about people.

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

Technoblade: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Y/n: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Technoblade: Absolutely not.

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

i accidentally hit post on this too early so if you saw this b4 it was finished- no you didn't

ANYWAYS enjoy, because the last one got over 300 likes so

ic master list :)

#techno x reader #technoblade x reader #platonic technoblade x reader #ranboo x reader #platonic ranboo x reader #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit x reader #platonic tommy x reader #platonic!sapnap x reader #platonic tubbo x reader #platonic bench trio x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #dsmp incorrect quotes #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound x y/n #Faye writes #Faye's incorrect quotes

1K notes · View notes

2truehearts · 10 months

Text

✦ — BUT DARLING, YOU ARE THE ONLY EXCEPTION.

✦ CHARACTER/S︰ijekiel alpheus & lucas from wmmap (who made me a princess).

✦ SYNOPSIS︰love can bloom and burn in any heart at the first sunlit-brindled brief—whether it be bounded by duty, ice, or disbelief; as long as that epitome of affection is you, they suppose they can make an exception and make some space—or in which they fall in-love with you first glance and sight.

✦ CONTENT WARNING/S︰nothing other than one swear word (fuck), & the general fluff and infatuation (from the character/s) + everything is proofread with the wc 200 - 300 each.

✦ A/N︰making my debut as a manhwa writer on main is not the ideal move but idk where to post it okay (side eyes the 2367838 sideblogs under this one/silly (also the title is inspired by "the only exception" by paramore <3 it's bleeping awesome go and give it a listen!!))

IJEKIEL IS NOT ONE TO FALL IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, to have his world still for a few seconds while his heart overrides and blood races to the forefront of his cheeks—but dear heavens, were you the only exception to that rule bound by duty and a planned future in his chest. you surely weren’t the epitome of grace or as enchanting as the gods, but to him you were enough—more, than enough, truly.

he first met you in an arrangement of his father and your parents from your vague childhood—but oh, how he remembers every second of that first meeting. when the doors opened to you bowing in front of him with a barely-hidden smile of excitement curving the tips of your mouth to look at him with big, bright eyes of wonder staring directly at the copy of the sun—not once backing down to blink or burn away from awe and fluster. so ijekiel does that instead. his skin flares with the color of blooming carnations, sunlight-prickled hues wide from childish panic at the sudden increased beating of his heart. was something wrong with him? he felt light-headed and dizzy, stomach twisting, tossing and turning as if he was about to faint from merely seeing you presented before him like the finest muse of a pristine piece of art, incomparable to anything else other than itself. what should he do? should he compliment you? should he act indifferent and use a practiced smile? his mind is trying to adjust to the drastic changes of his swayed heart, but the boy just can’t seem to do just that when he’s faced with a fairytale protagonist right in front of him—and he blinks, catching something from the corner of his eye—and is brought back down to earth when he sees his father’s questioning gaze. then, bows with a smile, greeting you further in to sit down and perhaps enjoy a cup of tea with him? you said yes out of common courtesy, but that only made his smile grow wider.

LUCAS FIRMLY DOES NOT BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, like come on—who believes in love like that these days? naive little kids? newly adolescent noble ladies? men of high and poor status? it’s simply too . . . unlikely to actually happen in his eyes. the butterflies when you meet “the love of your life’s” eyes? could be the early signs of constipation. the flush in your cheeks when there’s too much prolonged eye contact with them and the dizziness of your heart and mind? could be an oncoming migraine, headache, or a sign you're being possessed by some evil spirit, y’know? anyways, enough joking aside—the point is, he finds the subject some far-fetched fairytale that is highly impossible even with the magic he has—that is, until, you waltz into his life. the things he feels when he's around you is something that could be described as a contradiction. the first gazing into your eyes turns the world upside and back again, the first brush against your fingertips suck all the air out of his chest, the first chuckle that he manages to rouse from deep within your giddy joy paints him a shade darker than his eyes from head to toe—holy fuck were there a lot of firsts that made him experience everything and anything all at once; with most he can't even explain properly without sounding so . . lovesick. god do you make him sick to the last bone with whatever sorcery you possess. in short; when in love, lucas is everything that correlates to being stupidly infatuated and is constantly reeling himself in by a hair’s breadth back to the surface when you smile, laugh, or simply exist next to him—like, can you imagine how utterly moronic it is to see how degenerate he’s become from before you?! . . . but, if it makes you happy, he’ll gladly be idiotic for the rest of his life (though, that depends if you're gonna annoy him or not).

✦ — @khasmies 2023.

456 notes · View notes

mitsvriii · 11 months

Text

Attraction, pt 2

Pairings: Tomioka Giyu x reader, Obanai Iguro x Mitsuri Kanroji

TW's: none

Word Count: 730+

A/N: all images are from the KnY manga, thank you for the support on part 1. Giyu and Muichiro treat each other like siblings.. Again, sorry if anything is inaccurate. Sorry if it's shorter than you expected, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

Tags: @vkqxc20, @minnipe, @imyourbrokenfridge, @sugaremedy

It wasn't long before you and Giyu had made it to the ramen shop, still hand-in-hand. Despite how off-putting he might seem, he was actually enjoyable to be around. You two had chatted about random things, like favorite colors, weather, different breathing styles. And he surprisingly answered all of them, even your stupid questions like, was he a dog or cat person, would he cry at weddings, and do you snuggle your pillow when you go to sleep.

He seemed to be enjoying your company, and he even smiled at you. To which you responded with smile yourself. You were glad he was so comfortable around you, he wasn't like that with anyone besides Muichiro.

"We're here", Giyu interrupted the silence. "What do you want? I can order for you."

You looked up at him, "Just chicken ramen."

Giyu nodded at your words, "Then I'll get some, too." He gave you a short smile before opening the door to the shop for you.

You sat down at a small table, waiting for Giyu to come back once he ordered. You let out a small yawn as you looked around, the shop wasn't that full. But you supposed it was because it was about to be three, everyone was finishing up work.

It was a little later when Giyu returned, sitting down beside you. "It should be ready in less than ten minutes."

Okay so ten minutes more with Giyu, that wouldn't be awkward at all. You two had talked about everything, well, you had talked about everything. Giyu was more of a listener than a talker, although that was mostly obvious. Maybe you should ask him if he wanted to ask you anything?

"Do you want to ask me anything Giyu? I've been the one bombarding you with questions after all", you turned your head to look at him, awaiting his answer.

"Oh um, not really", Giyu fiddled with his hands, "I don't have any right now."

You nodded and rested your chin on the palm of your hand. A minute had to have passed by, right? It's not like you didn't enjoy Giyu's company, you just didn't know what to talk about with him. The Water Hashira went on most missions alone for god's sake.

But at the same time it was calming to stay in silence. You yourself only chatted if it was with someone new. You remember going out to eat with Kyojuro once after a mission, and having to listen to him say "Omai!" at the top of his lungs every time he took a bite of food.

You and Giyu sat in silence for at least another minute or so, sneaking glances at one another. It wasn't long after that when a waiter had came with your ramen bowls and chopsticks, leaving with a bow.

Giyu looked at you, as if expecting you to start eating first. You glanced at him before taking your chopsticks in hand, picking up a bite. You blew on it, taking a bite. That seemed to be the sign Giyu was looking for, as he did the same. So he was waiting for you to eat first, what a gentleman.

You two ate together, cracking little jokes here and there. You were glad that Obanai had eyes on Mitsuri, because Giyu was much more enjoyable to be around, to be with.

You two had finished eating after a few minutes, you were now heading back to headquarters after you had paid the bill, well. Giyu had paid the bill for you, much to your protests. He insisted that it was his pleasure, so naturally you relented and let him pay it.

You didn't seem to notice the way Sanemi's mouth dropped when you and Giyu walked back to headquarters hand in hand. Or the way Gyomei gave a knowing smile, and Muichiro looked on, confused on who you were. Shinobu smiled in victory as Uzui groaned and handed her 300 yen, and Kyojuro seemed to beam at the sight of you two. Not that you both noticed anything. You honestly didn't even bother to notice that Mitsuri and Obanai were out again, your mind now focused on the raven haired man holding your hand.

The one thing Obanai had done right to you was not recuperating your feelings, because if he did you wouldn't be as happy as you were right now with Giyu.

#giyu x reader #giyu tomioka #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #giyu x you #giyuu x reader #giyuu x you #kimentsu no yaiba #kny giyuu #obanai iguro #mitsuri kanjori #obamitsu #obanai x mitsuri #iguro x mitsuri #obanai is lowkey a bitch

474 notes · View notes

imjustasimpxd · 6 months

Text

My Angel (Part Three)

➬ Reiner Braun x Fem reader

Part one | Part two | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

Summary : Reiner was always taught that the devils of Paradis were vicious creatures, but what is he supposed to do when he soon finds himself reluctantly falling for one? Or when he is forced to go back to Marley and leave her altogether?

Word count : Almost 4, 300 words

Warnings : nothing really, reader is upset and isolates herself, Jean comforting reader,

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

***Important Note***

Hello my dears, I’m sorry for going on hiatus HAHA, I was super busy with school and work, plus on top of that I had major personal issues that were just too overwhelming to deal with at the time; and I couldn’t even write at all until I got it solved. I was under a lot of stress and was feeling really down about a lot of things in my life so I stopped writing for a little while. But I’m doing better now and I started writing again! So here’s the long awaited chapter three :))) I’m legit just gonna be turning this into a series so stay tuned for more parts! I appreciate your support and patience! <333

“Y/n?” There was a gentle voice at your door, followed by a few quiet knocks against the wood. “Y/n, can I come in?”

Your head slowly lifted from the fetal position you had succumbed to, your vision still blurry with tears as they glanced across your bedroom to the entryway. Barely anything was visible in the dark expanse of your room, except the silhouette of a shadow under your door; a shadow you quickly recognized as Jean’s.

“Yeah, I guess.” You answered his request, quickly lifting your fingers to wipe away the tears littering your skin.

The door then opened slowly, allowing the light from the outside hallway to seep through; its piercing glow caused your eyes to squint after being in the dark for so long. Although, once you began to adjust to the brightness, you were able to make out Jean’s figure entering your room, along with a tray of food he was holding in his hands.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, a tender smile lining his lips as he walked over to your bedside; one of his hands then reached towards your nightstand to turn on the lamp. “There, that’s better. Did you turn nocturnal or something?” He teased, hoping to cheer you up in some small way.

Although, as his eyes glanced toward you, seeing no alleviation in your downcast expression, he realized it was going to take much more than a simple joke to bring you out of this fog you were enclosed in.

“I uh, I noticed you didn’t come down for dinner again.” Jean sighed and spoke with a gentle tone, awkwardly trying to change the subject. “So here, I brought you something.” He quickly stretched his arms outward to show you the tray of food he was holding, hoping it would improve your mood; even by the smallest amount.

You grinned faintly at his gesture. “Thanks, you can set it on my desk. I’ll eat it later.”

Jean’s eyebrows lowered at your words; that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for.

You said the same exact thing when he visited last night, and as he walked over to your desk to set your meal down like you asked, he realized it was foolish of him to believe you.

Already sitting there was the plate he previously brought you yesterday; the same one you promised you wouldn’t allow to go cold.

The food was uneaten, its texture now dry and spoiled after sitting out all night; even the fork he settled beside your plate was in the same exact spot he positioned it in before he left.

A disappointed sigh escaped Jean’s lips as he set the new meal down on your desk, knowing it would go to waste as well.

It’s a pity, had you not wasted it, Sasha would’ve been more than happy to eat at least half of your serving for you; just like she always did.

She used to demand to sit next to you for every meal, because you were the only one who was kind enough to let her steal your food. It started off as just a few bites of course, nothing too covetous, but, as time went by, she started unintentionally stealing almost half your plate.

She’d always apologize thoroughly for it though; she even began buying you a couple sweets from the local shop afterward to make up for it.

Sooner or later, it became a normal routine for you both. She’d eat her portion, as well as half of yours, then later she’d get you something in return. It was a fair trade, and it brought the two of you closer in the process.

Every meal since then was quite entertaining; not to mention loud. It always started with your thunderous laughter after Sasha, once again, scarfed down her food too fast that she ended up coughing. Following that was Connie’s usual “slow down, the food isn’t going anywhere,” comment that would always spark a brainless argument between the two.

Once their fight got more heated than just trivial little jabs, Jean would always step in and order them to cut it out. And every single time, almost like clockwork, Connie would call Jean his permanent nickname of “horse-face” that immediately had the whole table erupting in laughter; especially Eren.

Every meal it was something, and every single time you were doubling over in a convulsing laughter that you couldn’t breathe from. Between Sasha’s coughing, the silly arguments, and the non-stop jokes: the dinner table was always eventful, and your smile was always present.

But now, things had changed.

Ever since the catastrophe that occurred two weeks ago, you stopped attending dinner; and for once, the table was relatively silent.

With only one plate to tackle, Sasha didn’t eat as frantically as she used to. Because of that, Connie’s comments about her speed weren’t made anymore, and Jean didn’t have to play patrol officer and break up any more fights. There weren’t as many jokes for Eren to laugh at, or a noise problem that Mikasa could complain about.

For the first time, the dinner table was quiet, uncomfortably quiet.

Your seat remained vacant for the past two weeks, as did Reiner and Bertholdt’s; but no one needed to ask why, the reason for that was already blatantly clear.

It pained them all to sit at that table without you, to witness the way you isolated yourself, but they knew better than to confront you about it.

There was no point in discussing it, lest they wanted to rehash their grievances for the hundredth time.

So, Jean resorted to bringing your meals directly to you instead; that way you could still get the food you needed without having to interact with anyone before you were ready.

That in itself became a routine of its own: Jean would come to check on you in the early mornings when you’d skipped breakfast, bringing you something light to start your day with; and then at night he repeated the process.

And every single time he came to check up on you, your face wore the same grief-stricken expression as the day before.

Of course, he didn’t exactly expect you to be bursting with joy after what had happened; it was completely normal for you to be upset about it.

Reiner and Bertholdt were their friends after all; their comrades who they fought alongside for years. It was a stab to the heart to be betrayed by them, but, what’s worse is things didn’t stop there either. After the betrayal was the battle, the same battle that wiped out more than half of the military corps, including their trusted commander.

As if the betrayal itself wasn’t already agonizingly painful, the death toll that followed was more than enough reason to feel as dejected as you were right now. It was the bloodiest mission you’d ever encountered before, and the aftermath was beyond heartbreaking, especially since the enemy still managed to escape in the end.

Jean understood why you were isolating yourself; others did too for a little while. And though he wanted to, the reason he never pushed you about rejoining the land of the living was because he knew you were hurting; and the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse for you.

But as his eyes narrowed in on that plate of wasted food you promised him you’d eat, he realized he might’ve been too lenient on you.

You never ate a whole lot of what he would bring you, but you were still getting something, and that was enough for Jean.

Although now that you’d stopped eating altogether, that was officially his last straw.

“What’s the point in telling me you’ll eat later if you never do?” Jean suddenly spoke up, causing you to flinch slightly at the sudden noise.

His voice sounded stiff; almost as if he was frustrated at you. Your head tilted upward to examine the expression across his face, and sure enough, you realized your assumption was correct. His jaw was clenched together tightly, and his eyes stared you down with an irritated glare.

“Well?!” He asked once again, his tone increasing with annoyance as he awaited your response.

“I’m just not hungry right now.” You answered dismissively, as if he was foolish to even be asking such a thing. “I’ll eat when I wake up.” Your words were followed by a subtle roll of your eyes. Your hands then gripped the blanket lying next to you, petulantly yanking it over your shoulders as you plopped down onto your pillow. “Now, goodnight.”

You knew full well that you were acting a bit childish, especially when Jean was only trying to look out for you. But you were too fed up at this point to apologize for your stubbornness.

Every single time you saw anyone it was always the same “look who decided to join us” comment, or worse: a dozen or so questions that you didn’t feel like answering.

Most of them were the usual “how are you feeling?” or “do you want to talk about it?” However, there were always those irritating ones they just had to ask: the ones about Reiner.

As if you even had the mental strength to think about him in the first place, they were still expecting a full report on what you thought about his actions, or what you’d do now that he’s gone.

Their curiosity always seemed to far outweigh their regard for your feelings on the matter; that’s why you resorted to isolation. It quickly became too overwhelming to deal with the bombardment of questions they were ready to unload on you; so, you stayed away, refusing to give them the chance to do so in the first place.

But now Jean was doing the same thing: invading your barracks and asking those bothersome questions you didn’t feel like answering.

Maybe you were just emotional right now, and perhaps being a little too sensitive. Nevertheless, you just wanted him to leave; you just wanted to be left alone.

“Fine then.” You heard Jean scoff. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you just closed your eyes, nuzzling your face into the blanket as you waited to hear the usual defeated sigh slip past his lips; along with the closing of your bedroom door that would follow soon after.

Just a few more seconds and he’d storm out; surrounding your ears with a jarring echo after he tumultuously slammed that wooden door behind him.

Any second now…

Just one more minute, and then you’d hear it; you were sure of it!

However, the seconds kept creeping by, and there was still no sound to indicate the opening of that door. Rather, an unexpected sound emerged from the silence instead.

You immediately turned around to see what the commotion was about, as well as to find out why he was even still here in the first place.

You didn’t exactly know what you expected to see when you glanced over your shoulder, but watching Jean pull the chair out from under your desk and take a seat was definitely not what you imagined.

“What are you doing??” You groaned in annoyance.

He obviously wasn’t getting the hint that you wanted him to leave, or perhaps he was and just refused to meet your demands.

“Oh? Did you need something?” He asked, as if this was normal, as if you were the one disrupting his peace.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“I never said that.” He leaned back in your chair, extending his legs across the floor; almost like he planned on staying a while.

You stared him down with a glare, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, his gaze was fixated out the window, admiring the moon’s captivating glow from the comfort of your dimly lit bedroom.

“Fine, stay then, I don’t care.” You snapped, laying back down with a dramatic huff; continuing your sulking.

Why was he being so difficult? You just weren’t in the mood to be around anyone? Couldn’t he understand that?

Granted, you hadn’t been in the mood to be social for the past two weeks now, but regardless, why couldn’t he just leave you be? That’s all you wanted.

“It’s not going to change anything you know?

“Huh??” You immediately turned back around, quite displeased at him.

If Jean was going to insist on staying, he could at least have the decency to remain silent so that you could sleep. Evidently, he didn’t agree with that notion.

“It’s not going to change anything.” He repeated.

“No, I heard what you said,” you groaned impatiently, not knowing how much more you could take of this. “But what are you talking about?!”

Jean’s voice was quiet but stern, his eyes soon looked over at you with a sympathetic gaze. “Isolating yourself, starving yourself, everything you’ve been doing for the past two weeks.” He paused momentarily, letting out a gentle sigh before speaking once more. “None of it’s going to bring him back, you know?”

Your eyes widened at Jean’s words, your breathing coming to a halt in your lungs. You immediately looked away from him, avoiding his gaze as you stared at the ceiling; trying to hold back those tears you could feel collecting in your eyes.

Jean was right.

None of your sulking or lack of eating would ever be enough to bring Reiner back; No amount of isolation could change the fact that he was gone.

Reiner had chosen to betray and abandon those who trusted him, those who loved him, and that was all there was to it.

He was clearly never coming back, and even if he did, things would never be the same between the two of you again; or anyone else for that matter.

There was nothing left to do except move on and accept the reality of your situation.

But even so, you still couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Despite the things he’d done, you still loved Reiner, and your heart still longed to be with him.

“I know.” You finally spoke up, “but I wish it would.” A gentle sigh jerked past your lips as you quickly turned back around to face the wall again, clearly not wanting to talk about the subject any longer.

Jean eyes lowered at your response, frustrated that you were shutting down once again; just like you’ve been doing for the past two weeks now.

He quickly slumped against the back of your chair with an enervated sigh, feeling like giving up on his efforts to pull you out of this darkness.

Jean had been trying his best to be gentle with you, to make sure you didn’t feel like he was pressuring you. He’d been patient with your stubbornness, he’d been calm and caring, but you didn’t seem to recognize any of that; all you were concerned about was the agony you allowed to cripple you from the inside, and it hurt to be a witness to it.

It hurt to see the way you were torturing yourself, pretending as if you deserved to be put through this pain. It was almost as if you were acting like this was your fault, like you had done something to deserve this.

But that wasn’t true; and Jean could see now that you’d forgotten that.

None of this was your fault, Reiner was the only one to blame here.

It was cruel of him to put you through this; to make you believe you weren’t good enough to make him stay, that you weren’t special enough to be loved by someone.

What kind of monster does that to a person; a person he loves especially?!

Jean couldn’t understand it, it angered him.

Did you truly believe you deserved to be abandoned? Left unloved?

Was Reiner the one who taught you to think that way? Jean’s blood was beginning to boil at just the thought of that.

It was all so frustrating, so heartbreaking. You weren’t the same person anymore, and Reiner was the cause of it.

Ever since his betrayal, Reiner had taken away a piece of you, the same one that used to laugh so loudly at the dinner table, the same one that contained your beautiful smile.

Your true self was withering away because of the crimes carried out by a man who promised to love you; but Jean refused to let it go without putting up a fight.

He wouldn’t stand by and watch the best part of you fall to pieces just because of some idiot who didn’t realize what he had before he threw it away.

You had to be saved from this, reminded that you didn’t need Reiner to be fulfilled, that you were already enough as you were.

You needed to remember all the good things in life that didn’t include Reiner, all the people that still cared deeply for you; people you seemed to forget about within the span of the past two weeks.

If you were ever going to be able to move on, ever going to heal from this: you needed to let Reiner go.

Jean sighed quietly as he stood up from the chair, attempting to try a different approach in hopes to get through to you.

He had tried everything he could think of without breaking any boundaries, but it got him nowhere. This was now officially his last resort, his final chance to rescue you from this darkness before it consumed you fully; leaving no trace left of the person you used to be.

If this didn’t work, then Jean could at least say he tried everything he possibly could; but hopefully, it doesn’t come to that.

Jean inhaled nervously to prepare himself before he slowly made his way over to your bed; placing a tender hand on your shoulder. “Y/n?” Jean spoke in a quiet voice, trying his best not to make you feel overwhelmed or anxious. “Can you please look at me?”

You didn’t move at first, you didn’t want to.

You were fully aware he was just trying to help, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to open up again without breaking down; and that was the last thing you needed right now.

“Y/n please.” Jean’s voice was desperate and pleading, his hand gently rubbing along your shoulder to, hopefully, coax you into giving in.

You let out a gentle sigh, tempted to just unload everything at once now that the offer was standing. It was hurting to keep everything inside like this; bottling it up and hiding it away as if it didn’t matter, as if you didn’t feel like screaming until your throat became dry and sore.

It was becoming too much to bear; the burden was too heavy to carry on your own anymore, and Jean had obviously noticed.

As usual, he could see right through you; penetrating through every wall you built to conceal your true feelings.

Maybe it was easier to stop fighting him, maybe, you really should just give in.

“I just want to know you’re okay.”

Jean’s voice was kind and sympathetic; the gentle caressing of his hand against your shoulder matching that tender tone he was currently using.

He sounded so desperate, so genuinely worried about you; something you couldn’t just ignore no matter how scared you were to open up again.

“Please…”

He pleaded, and by the tone of his voice you could tell this would be the last time; that this was your last chance to accept his offer of confiding in him before he would give up.

Despite your reservations to it, you knew you couldn’t refuse this time, lest you wanted to sign the contract to submit to your grief eternally.

If you were ever going to recover, ever going to restore that old version of yourself that you missed so much, then you’d have to grab ahold of this opportunity before it slipped away forever.

A gentle sigh rumbled in your throat before your body slowly turned to face Jean, watching the way he retracted his hand from your shoulder as you moved.

“I’m not okay.” You shook your head, eyes welling up with tears already. “And I don’t know how to be okay again.” You spoke with a shaken tone, feeling your lip quiver gently as you stared at him.

Barely ten seconds into speaking and you were already struggling to keep it together; feeling your heart clench in your chest at the recollection of all those bottled up thoughts now resurfacing.

Jean’s expression lowered at the sight of you, as if it was hurting him to watch this.

His body gently kneeled in front of your bed, aligning his eyes with yours as he reached to stroke your shoulder once more. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do this alone, no one expects you to.” He said reassuringly, staring at you with a sympathetic and tender gaze.

“I just-“ A sudden sob appeared at the back of your throat, choking the words you were trying to let escape. “I just don’t understand it. Why did he leave me?” You sniffled gently in between sentences. “Why didn’t he care about me?” A quiet sob slipped past your mouth, much to your dislike.

It was pathetic, embarrassing even; the way you were falling apart over this, not even lasting a good minute before turning into a crying mess.

Your eyes diverted away from Jean, cowering behind the blanket you were now burying your face into; hoping to muffle the sound of your sobs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, I just…” Your words came to a halt in your mouth as your emotions quickly took over; preventing you from getting a proper word out. “I’m sorry…” You repeated, clenching your eyes shut in humiliation.

You expected to hear a sigh of annoyance right about now, or perhaps even the shutting of the door. However, your body jolted in surprise when you felt the sudden warmth of a person hugging you gently instead.

Your head quickly lifted from the blanket and your eyes widened to see Jean’s face so close to yours; almost making you blush awkwardly at the proximity.

A comforting smile painted across Jean’s lips when he saw you look up at him. “Sorry if this is weird.” he chuckled nervously and quickly let go of the hug; backing away in case you felt uncomfortable. “You just looked like you needed that.”

Your expression softened as you looked at him, feeling a sense of gratitude filling your heart at the way he was attempting to comfort you; even if it was a little awkward at first. “No, it’s okay.” You quickly shook your head in response, granting him a gentle smile in return; one Jean hadn’t seen in two weeks.

Your body quickly sat up and leaned forward, reaching off the bed to where Jean was kneeling and wrapping your arms around him to continue the hug. “You’re right, I do need this.” You spoke in a soothing tone, letting him know you were okay with what he did a few seconds ago; and that it hadn’t pushed you away.

Jean let out a gentle sigh of relief at your actions, a little flabbergasted at how well you were responding to him. Here he was prepared to face your stubborn and dismissive attitude for the millionth time and yet he was faced with a completely unprecedented outcome.

There were no more spiteful comments or hurtful glares coming his way, just a gentle gaze and a pleasant embrace he never anticipated receiving after the state you were in merely seconds ago.

For the first time in two weeks, it seemed the Y/n he once knew, the Y/n he always secretly harbored feelings for, was finally showing herself again; even if just by the smallest amount.

Jean grinned gently to himself, and his arms quickly wrapped around your back to return the unexpected hug. “We’ve all been worried sick about you, ya know?” Jean spoke softly as he tightened his grip around you, allowing his hand to gently caress your back in the process.

“I know,” You uttered quietly, your voice sounding less unhinged and imbalanced as it was before. “And I’m sorry.”

You sniffled gently, your eyes clenching shut and your arms tightening around Jean’s neck as you leaned against him; wanting to stay in his comforting embrace.

Jean chuckled as he felt the way you clung to him; realizing just how desperate your need for reassurance was. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.” He said as he leaned the side of his head against yours, continuing the subtle tracing of his fingers along your back. “Just please don’t do that again, okay?”

You nodded quickly, feeling the sting of tears pricking against your eyes once more. “I won’t, I promise, I’m really sorry.” You apologized again in an uneasy tone, feeling shameful of the way you’d been acting for the past two weeks.

This whole time Jean had been here trying to help you, but you’d just been too consumed in your own misery that you failed to notice the damage you were causing; the pain you were putting him, as well as everyone else, through by isolating yourself like this.

You’d been rude, selfish even; too hyper fixated on your own agony that you’d become blind to the impairment you were projecting onto everyone else.

You’d hoped it wasn’t too late to turn things around and make amends with the people you’d been neglecting for the past two weeks; and a part of you started to grow fearful that you’d missed your chance by now.

However, by the way Jean held you close and leaned his head tenderly against yours, it was obvious that wasn’t the case.

Part one | Part two | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

(I’M LEGIT TURNING THIS INTO A ACTUAL SERIES NOW, OOPSIES) More parts to come soon! :)))

Taglist: @thebadbatch @nervouslad @ah-finally @usagikookiejams @setangel @unwindwithme @milkysuck @realglittereater @cyberdollface @glactict3a @elachapelle1357 @bucky-lents @diavoloslove @be-lla-vie @maaralo @buckysgirl01 @venomfantasies @desiiisstuff @novahaitani @jadasz @viiiik

This fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

Keep in mind that commenting to tell me what you liked, what you don’t, how I can improve, and any suggestions you have helps me A LOT more than simply liking my posts. If you’ve had the time to read my story, how much longer does it take to leave me some feedback on it? 😊

#reiner braun #reiner attack on titan #reiner aot #reiner x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x y/n #reiner braun fluff #reiner braun angst #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x you #jean aot #aot jean #aot x reader #aot x female reader

190 notes · View notes