#And he's all what the eff why are you here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smolvenger · 8 months

Text

Could I Have The McOrgasm, Please? (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: You love Loki, but he loves another. You must join Loki on his trip to get Sylvie back by going to the McDonald's she's working at. No matter how much it hurts you on the inside...

Warnings: SMUT AT THE END! NSFW! (Oral, fem receiving, inappropriate uses of Loki's shadow powers, dirty talk, p in v sex). Angst and unrequited (or is it?) love with eventual fluff. Being Anti-Slyki and Anti-Sylvie so if you like the character or pairing you have been warned. This is my indulgent coping method for not getting with a fictional character. Also, as this is published, I don't know what the eff is going to happen in season 2. I just want this out so I can escape to delulu land when canon disappoints me.

Word Count: >8K (phew)

Comments, reblogs, dms, and asks about my work are always appreciated!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract (smut starts at the line "I want to have you, btw bestie) @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

“Yes, she will be there,” Loki confirmed, looking at the restaurant.

You put your hands in your pockets. You were with Loki, Mobius, and a gentleman in a TVA jumpsuit at the McDonalds where Sylvie apparently worked. Just a hop, skip, and jump away. How much you took for granted-just traveling anywhere in space and time. Only, for this place and time was the one place you didn’t want to be. You wished you were anywhere else. A natural disaster, the poorest section of a medieval village, a gladiator tournament, a tuberculosis outbreak in London in the 1870’s-not this.

You didn’t want to watch as the man you loved went to pursue someone else. It was a peaceful place- just a McDonald's in the middle of a regular strip. The sun was gentle. Big clouds drifted in the sky. The birds were singing. You wanted to scream.

You didn’t just like Loki as a friend. You loved Loki- him and only him. Loved him for a long time. Through the misadventures of life in the TVA, you helped him for long hours scouring over files. You ate lunch together. When the little capsules of pies arrived in the cafeteria for the lunch hour’s dessert options, you would pull out one for him and hand it with a smile. And when he cried over seeing what events were supposed to happen, you ran to embrace him.

Then one day he ran into the mysterious Loki variant- as it turned out her name was Sylvie. Just two days later he went missing with her. Then they reappeared. And then they vanished again. Then he reappeared and people were running in a panic.

She left him. Kissed him, killed Kang, and then left him in the dust. But it didn’t occur to Loki that this was a betrayal he should be angry about. You remembered that day. He kept talking about her- until there was one phrase that hit you in the stomach.

“Please Y/N- I love her. Help me…help me find her and fix this!”

You would have preferred to be stabbed.

When he did say he loved her, you simply said “Oh, okay. I will.”

You returned back to your room later that day. Forgetting the chaos and Mobius’s mysterious loss of memory. You sank onto the floor and cried. Cried so hard you couldn’t breathe. Cried so hard and curled up into a ball. Cried so hard you hardly slept for want of crying more.

Even after what she did, he was still talking of her. No. All he could talk of was Sylvie this and Slyvie that. Even with you. Why were you even doing this?

“Uh…I don’t think I should be here…I think I should go back…” you murmured, taking a step back.

“You’re scared…of her? Y/N! You shouldn’t be! She’s incredible, you’ll love her! And you must- you’re the one who remembers what happened!” he insisted.

“What happened?” Mobius asked. The man in the jumpsuit only blinked.

“Y/N…please-I’m nervous…I need the support…” Loki begged at you. His mouth curled into a little frown and his eyes so big they shone like big stars. You held in a breath. Those eyes. Damn, those eyes- like that of a kitten. You wanted to hug him and cuddle him- but you couldn’t.

“Okay…” you voiced.

It was odd-not only being rejected, but being rejected for himself! How the hell would you explain that to a therapist?! The more you thought about it, the more it made you sick. The Spidermans in New York apparently weren’t kissing each other, you heard. You shoved your arms to cross them and continued on. Perhaps if you walked quickly, you could get it over with. Holding your breath, you folded your arms and walked quickly in. Thinking of it like a vaccine- just a little pinch of pain for a brief bit, and then it would be over with.

You stopped inside that bright, yellow building with its bright lights. There was a woman at the counter.

“Is that…” you asked.

Loki’s pale face turned a shade paler. “Yes.”

There you saw her. Not a glance- seeing her. Truly saw her up close. There were only glimpses when she ran around in the TVA. Here, her blonde hair was cut short beneath her cap and her eyes squinted in tired boredom. She smoothed her uniform.

You noticed Loki see her. Frozen in his tracks, his mouth open.

“What are you waiting for?” you pressed.

They kept looking at each other. With a shrug, she moved her eyes forward where a customer showed up to order a McFlurry. Loki blinked and turned to you.

“Does she recognize me?” he asked.

“Go ahead and find out. .” you replied.

“I…I feel like I can’t take another step…” Loki said, his chest falling in shallow breaths.

Mobius waltzed up in front of you guys along with the variant man.

“Well- I myself am starving hungry! Y/N-I bet you are too! Let’s order!” he churruped.

You followed them as Loki stayed a the door. Frozen in place. Mobius gestured to the counter.

“Ladies first!” he chimed.

You stared at her as she finished the last order before you. Drinking in that now your invisible rival had a face. That “Sylvie” wasn’t a wisp of air, a pedestal you could never reach. But flesh and blood. That this was the woman Loki preferred. This was the woman who was Loki. Pale skin and short blonde hair. It seemed damp under her cap. Slender with a long, straight nose and pink lips. Sharp eyes like that of a falcon. Slight grace and ease with how she moved. And you knew from the hundreds of times how Loki boasted of how stupid Sylvie won some stupid fight with a stupid enemy in a stupidly easy manner.

So many words were in there. You knew what she did. How miserable she really made him. After everything he did for her. And no matter if she felt the same or not, her actions did not account for it. What she did to him. The pure misery and despair on your beloved Loki’s face when she left him. The suffering she put him through even if he wasn’t aware of it.

And envy. Yes, you were sick with envy. You hated yourself. You hated yourself because you weren’t her. And yet you hated her too. Only hate was swirling in her stomach. Your mouth stopped, for want of the thousands of things you could have said. The thousands of things you fantasized about saying, or doing. You took in a shaky breath, maybe to start one of them. To finally let it out. To scream at her. Yell in her face. They were there- words forming at you like grey clouds forming a thunderstorm.

She beat you to it.

“Hello, welcome to McDonalds,” she said with a practiced smile.

She did not recognize you. She only gave you a nod and replied dutifully, like she repeated it 1,000 times every day.

“What would you like?” she asked, continuing on like she was an actor saying her lines.

To rip out all of your hair and scalp you until you’re screaming and bloody. You thought bitterly. But you did not say that.

“Could I have the-uh, Quarter pounder and small fries and a fountain drink, please?” you requested.

She nodded with a small smile and tapped into the cash register.

“My pleasure, coming up…” she said.

When you paid, she handed you the receipt. Then all you had to do was wait until the giant screen announced your order was ready. You felt dizzy as Mobius and the new guy ordered their food.

Simple as that. Your motivation failed you. She didn’t know you. If you said or did anything, she would flee and get her manager. You would be known as “that” customer who made food service worker’s lives miserable. A story to be gasped or laughed about. And never showing you sympathetically. Or knowing the stories Loki would boast about her-whip out her own daggers and slice you into ribbons.

You took a step back. Unable to peel her eyes off of her. Imagine her as he would describe- not in a uniform but in tight leather showing a perfect and beautiful slim body. A fighter who could defeat anyone in combat without blinking an eye and who could bring down the whole TVA.

Could you do that? No- you weren’t some fierce, flawless, warrior goddess. No- you were afraid. Vulnerable. That was your curse-she was extraordinary. You were just ordinary.

You began to mentally list your personal insecurities. How could you even compare to her? No wonder Loki worshipped the ground she walked on after she used him as a punching bag. The screen announced your food and another worker handed you a tray with the burger, fries, and cup. That was a clear sign from the universe itself- might as well drown yourself in comfort food.

You noticed Loki finally moved from his place. You couldn’t even watch- not even to get your drink. You grabbed your tray of food and fled to a far corner near the bathrooms. Where you couldn’t hear them, couldn’t see them. You wanted to huddle and hide and make yourself invisible.

Then you heard footsteps- rapidly walking around. You looked up to see who it was. It wasn’t Mobius. It wasn’t even the variant in the tracksuit- You could recognize that peachy ass in those brown office khakis anywhere.

He turned his black curls everywhere as he turned his head to search. Loki went up to you, and then his shoulders relaxed. He even bent a little to meet eyes where you were sitting.

“Y/N, all the way here?” he asked.

You were such a sucker for that face, especially how soft, how sweet he could look. How could you say no to his presence now?

“Uh…yeah,” was all you could say.

As he took a step forward to where you sat, he leaned down, his hands still in his jacket pockets.

“Where were you- I got worried. Maybe someone had attacked you, or took you,” he fretted.

“I’m fine,” you lied as you took a bite of the burger. “Just wanted to sit here-more private.”

He then pulled up to the chair and sat across from you.

“How’s the wedding planning?” you wanted to ask bitterly. You did not. You looked down at your food, then up at him. He sat so casually, so easily. He folded one leg over another and set an arm down. You pulled out your bag of fries. It was so piping hot it hurt a little- but that was how you liked it.

“I’m nervous too, Y/N. I have to tell you…I cried this morning…I know I have to face her. I’ve taken over cities, I’ve battled monsters, but this…this is different…” Loki confessed.

You chewed on a fry instead of replying. Tasting the crispy hot potato flavor. He let out a deep exhale, putting a hand lightly over his mouth.

“What’s wrong with me, Y/N?” he asked.

You wiped the salt onto your pants. The words flowed out of you easily. Too easily.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Loki! You’re the nicest, sweetest, bravest, sexiest being in the whole-”

“What was that last one?” he asked, tilting his head, his blue eyes squinting.

You immediately froze, the fry you were about to eat hung in mid-air. You felt hot with embarrassment.

“You’re the nicest, smartest being in the whole universe!” you said.

Before he could say anything else, you began digging further into those hot fries. “Mmph, These are so good. And just right-right when they’re out of the fryer.” You chatted on, desperate to change the subject after your little Freudian slip.

“Can I…try one?” he asked.

He held out his hand and you pressed a few fries into it. He chewed on them and then smiled as he tasted them.

“Not bad! Midgard food isn’t as pitiful as I thought!” he replied.

Mobius returned with his tray along with his companion. They ate and Mobius commented on how the Sweet and Sour sauce was his favorite. Loki looked at him, his smile dropping. Then he turned to you, his voice low. Mobius kept on chatting about everything to the variant.

“He still doesn’t remember…It seems all who care about me just…either die or leave or hurt me…” he mourned.

“I don’t…and think of Thor. Yes, you two fight. But he loves you. And remember your own mother! They care about you. They always will…and so will I…” you assured him.

Your hand moved up to touch his, then froze and retreated. Then he turned to you.

“Y/N?”

“Mhhm?” you asked, a mouth full of food.

“...You have salt on your chin…” he commented.

He reached out his hand to cup it. Your breath stopped at his touch- so gentle, so soft. His large thumb grazed over your chin slowly. Your mouth opened a little, feeling his light brush as his thumb swiped the bits of salt away. How small it seemed under his large hands. But he wasn’t hurting you in the slightest- it felt like a caress. A light kiss. Once his thumb went back to his hand, his eyes went to yours. Seeing his blueness, his large, dark pupils. As if something unspoken was exchanged between you. You saw him swallow hard.

Taking in a deep breath after that, you retreated, putting your hands on your lap and looking down. The heaviness of sudden arousal from his touch had shocked your system. You reached for your drink to cool off but realized it was empty. You had eaten all of your meal. There wasn’t food you could use to hide now. You forced yourself to take deep breaths- in, two three four, out two three four.

“There that’s…that’s better,” Loki said.

“Thank you- it won’t be easy, but….one day, you won’t be sad about what happened. You won’t feel nervous or scared…you’ll get over it Loki, bit by bit,” you encouraged softly.

He leaned forward in his chair, his hands folding on the table.

“Ah, tell me, my dear Y/N- Have you ever had your heart broken?”

The burger in your throat dried up. You took your napkin and bunched it into a ball in your hand.

“Yes,” you answered plainly. Fighting back the urge to laugh.

“I never did! Never! None of that drama! I’ve never been more relieved!” Mobius sang out as he chewed on a nugget. His companion only kept tearing at his burger.

“Is it terrible?” Loki asked. His brows knotted in curiosity.

“Very. Still is,” you replied.

“How did you cope with it? You little mortals-going about your own lives and your own heartbreaks?” he asked generally.

You shoved aside the tray and folded your arms. Then you began to speak.

“Realizing that love shouldn’t be a prison.”

“A prison?” Loki repeated. He leaned forward. Staring right at you. Truly listening to you. You continued, though you felt your body tense up. Knowing what you said was honest- too honest.

“I was…not with him in any way. He wasn’t my boyfriend or lover or hookup or whatever. This guy- I thought… he should be with whoever makes him happy….”

Even with someone who betrayed him, manipulated his feelings, and left him crying.

“Love means letting go. It’s the right thing to do- it’s still hard though,” you finished.

Loki registered nothing beneath the surface of that. He merely shrugged and raised his eyebrows. He looked at you, giving you a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re alright and happy now, Y/N. I remembered the time you were about to fall off the TVA balcony right over those statues last month…”

“And you caught me-you saved my life!”

“To think…me…a hero for once…” he commented.

“That’s a Loki for you! A pure miracle for your kind!” Mobius commented.

He took a long sip of his Sprite.

“Wow! Now this is a drink!” he exclaimed, inside the cup for the bubbly carbonation.

“Well, Mobius, this isn’t fiction. No one is all good or all bad. And Loki, no one entirely bad does that…everyone’s a mix of good and bad,” you added on.

“What’s your bad parts, Y/N? Any weaknesses” Loki asked curiously.

“I…get jealous…” you confessed.

The god’s jaw lowered to the ground. His voice dared to raise a little bit from his surprise.

“Jealous!? But…you’re…you’re so kind! I’m the jealous one!” he said.

You continued on. The words poured out of you more quickly than you could register or control them.

“It doesn’t mean I never feel jealous. Or am tempted to do things like take her face and smash it over the McDonad’s register.”

“What?!?!”

You stopped. A hand flew over your mouth to cover it. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, what the fuck was I thinking?!?! you cursed silently. Another slip. And this time, he heard it clearly. No hiding around it.

“Whose face are you talking about?” Loki asked further.

“I…Forget that…I didn’t say anything! Good luck with your meet-cute and reunion and all that. Have fun- bye!” you dismissed quickly.

You grabbed your tray.

“Y/N…wait…” he said.

“Where is she going?” Mobius asked, tilting his head. He then remembered he had more sweet and sour sauce with his McNuggets and began dipping into them with a childish glee.

He reached out and grabbed your arm. You pulled against him and he held you back.

“What’s going on!?” the god asked.

“Don’t touch me- save it for her!” you hissed out. Yanking away from him- not even looking at his face.

You looked right at the door and walked hurriedly. Momentum, panic, pulling you out of there. You kept your eyes on the exit as you dumped your trash into the bin. You walked to the outside of the McDonalds. It was sunny with the sun’s orange glow and a little chilly. You got the tempad from your pocket to return. But then you heard Loki jog behind you. You kept walking down the pavement. Glad that there weren’t moving cars right now. If not, you wished a moving one would hit him and send him flying. But it didn’t.

“Y/N, stop!” he insisted.

You stopped walking. But you turned around. You didn’t look at him- only at the rows of cars and empty parking spots in the strip. But you heard him behind you.

“I’ve stopped. Now what?” you asked. At least you could hide behind sass and snark. It made the pain better.

“Whose face were you talking about?” he asked.

“I’ve got to go, Loki,” you urged.

“Y/N, wait!” he cried.

You felt him grab you. He turned you around, his arms gripping you into place. His eyes were intense and his jaw lowered. He still looked so handsome- like a dream. His intensity, the feel of his bare hands on you making it more intense, making him more attractive. You were forced to face him. Your eyes were brimming with more tears. He almost shook you as he held you- so strong. His skin, his scent. Like he wouldn’t let go of that for the world. If only you could experience that for yourself.

“Y/N….are you…jealous of Sylvie?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m sorry I said something about hurting her. I know it was wrong to-but yes. I’m jealous of her. Have been for a while. Isn’t it obvious?” you asked.

“Why?!”

You burst into tears. Your jaw tightened.

“I need to go, Loki…just let go, please,” you begged.

As you moved he held his grip on you.

“No! You’re not going anywhere until you tell me why!” he demanded.

You thought confessions like this should be done in moonlit gardens or sexy hotel suites or something. Not the parking lot of a fucking Mcdonald's. But here you were.

“Why? Because I love you, Loki. More than as my friend-much more.”

“You…love me?” he asked. His eyes were wide. His jaw dropped and then it closed back, his pink lips barely parted.

Your words sputtered out. His grip relaxed on your arms. You had no choice but to look him in the eye and talk.

“ I’ve always loved you…I’ve loved you every afternoon, on weekdays, on coffee breaks. I’ve admired and taken note of every one of your feats. I stayed by when you were sitting at the TVA crying when she opened the multiverse and left you. But…the thing with love…is that it means letting go…”

How handsome he looked. His jacket-how warm would it feel? Would it smell like him? And the shirt that hugged his body. You glanced down and felt twinges of lust mixed with your sadness. With a man as delectable as he, you couldn’t help it. How broad yet lean and strong he was. How his bare skin would feel against your bare skin. How many times have you fantasized nightly about having him in your bed? But there was only one being in these universes and timelines who would know. And it wasn’t you.

“What…Y/N…really…all this time…” Loki murmured.

. You felt anger in your throat and venom in your voice.

“If you think the best relationship you need is with a woman who is literally you with a vagina who you knew for three days and then left you in the dust for her own gain, then take it! Because…beacuase…”

You began to step away. Ready for him to be angry at your words about her. His eyebrows lowered and there was no anger- only his parted lips of shock. You began Crying again. You thought you saw him tear up too.

“Because that’s what you want, what you choose…and I have to let you go…”

You turned on your heels and promptly left. Wiping your tears on your sleeve. Using the tempad, you returned to your home. You ran inside, fell on your bed, and sobbed.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Monday began, you were ready to work. You got in your nicer dress and cardigan for the day. The TVA office could get chilly. Right when you walked in, there was Loki. In his own work wear. You froze. What on earth were you going to say? What could you say?

“I was worried about you. How are you, Y/N? Feeling better?” he asked, putting his hands back in his pockets.

“You know…yes….yes I am…” you nodded.

He gave you a kind smile. You waited for him to bring up what happened, what you said. He did not.

“How did…McDonalds go?” you asked.

“For your information, it went alright,” he informed you.

You felt a giant lump in your throat. You pulled your cardigan further over you-looking down on the floor as you spoke.

“The reunion- did she-”

“She just wanted to focus on her job,” Loki answered before you could finish your statement. He went up closer to you. “I hope your day at work goes well, my dear…if any supervisor gives you trouble, they’ll answer to me…wait- there’s a hair on your shirt,” he said.

He gently brushed it away on your shoulder.

“There you go- you look…you look nice today. The colors suit you,” he said.

“Oh, thank you.”

It was a normal, boring day. And the next day was a normal boring day- that was comforting.

When you went into the cafeteria, you decided to buy lunch. After all, it was going to be the best meal they offered at the TVA- grilled ham and cheese with tomato soup-nice and warm. You counted your coins from your pocket to make up the total. It was cheap-but still eating at it every day could take a toll if you weren’t careful.

As you walked up with your change, the cafeteria lady shook her head in her hair net.

“Oh no- it’s on the house!” she said.

She gave you a smile as she brought a tray ready. Your own surprised face gleaming from the glass over the food.

“Really?!” you gasped incredulously.

“Yes-your lunches are free from now on!” announced the cafeteria lady.

“Oh…thank you!” you cried.

Smiling, she handed you a grilled ham and cheese and poured tomato soup into a bowl before handing it to you. They tasted especially warm and decadent.

Loki appeared here and there. But he would ask after you. Talk to you. He never mentioned the warrior goddess version of himself to you. Not anymore, at least. But he didn’t bring up what he said.

As you got to your office desk on the fifth day, he was standing there- waiting for you. Your coworkers were watching with one eye from where they sat and worked. Some even stood up to see.

“Hello, Y/N!” he greeted.

He walked forward and you gasped aloud when he turned. In his white hands was a glass vase full of fresh, beautiful flowers- your favorite kind. Bright and beautiful with a fragrance that sweetened the area that used to be full of the smell of crisp paper and old coffee.

“I…I thought you might like this,” he offered, handing you the vase.

“I…I, uh…uh-thank you,” you said.

Why was he suddenly being nice? It then hit you- he still valued your friendship. Even if he didn’t feel the same, he didn’t want to let you go yet. Probably making peace. But you were in public, this wasn’t the time or place to discuss matters of the heart openly. But…that was better than a full friendship breakup. Of never seeing that mischievous, handsome god ever again.

You smelled the flowers and set them on your desk. He leaned against it, something glinting in his eyes. Something that made you feel fluttery and distracted you from the start of the day.

“How’s the…Kang mission going?” you asked.

“Oh, it’s alright. If not well. A few bumps here and there- but things will probably be fine. You have nothing to fear…but what about you? How is work?” he asked.

“It’s been downright slow the past few days. Then today it’s picked up, but…nothing I can’t handle.” you reported.

He leaned a little closer, the old trickster light beaming in his eyes.

“Anyone being difficult? He asked.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“Some were in the past, but…but no.”

“Then…I hope you have a good day, Y/N. I will talk to you later. Don’t let them work you too hard, darling,” he said.

He gave you a wink that sent butterflies into your stomach and then walked away.

How nice he was. Taking it so well. You always knew there was a little good in him. Even if all that was for someone who didn’t deserve him…

After work, you splurged on cheesecake and a bottle of wine. You were going to need it.

After you got back home, you brought in your goods. You listened to sad music and cried to flush more of it out of your system. Grieving Sylvie and Loki being a couple. Imagining them kissing and doing more than kissing by now a hundred times. You took a hot shower to cleanse every picture of it from yourself. You changed into your pajama shirt and shorts. You sat on your chair in your room, ready to eat a generous helping of cheesecake and a generous glass of wine.

You were going to go somewhere far from the TVA. You had to. Get a new job somewhere. Meet as many men as possible. Try other forms of dating. Or not just dating– just meet anyone. Forget him. Forget Loki. Forget his dark curls and blue eyes and sinful waist in those tight shirts and mischievous smile. Move on from him, move on from being rejected. Even if he was nice to you and wanted to still be friends. You were going to forget it all. Sacred timeline be damned. Your happiness and peace of mind was shattered.

Then it hit you…it was odd that out of nowhere you had free lunches at work. Why was that?

An answer hit you.

Could it…could it be…it was… No. It was bribery. Yes! All bribery because he needed help with some villain who lived in a mansion with purple robes and a flair for the dramatics. All being beside his perfect, flawless girlfriend. Having their love rubbed in your face. You wanted to spit.

Right as you were about to take your first bite of cheesecake, There was a loud knock.

“Y/N…please let me in…I have to talk with you,” a voice you knew too well asked from the door.

You gripped the seat of your chair.

“Loki?! Is that you?” you asked from where you sat.

“Who else, darling?”

“Just use your magic and break into my place!” you replied.

“I’d rather enter with your permission…” he said.

Not caring that you were in your sleepwear, you opened the door. Still in his jacket and TVA office wear, he stepped inside. Your hands curled into fists. He was beautiful as ever-jacket and cheekbones and all. You could have screamed at him. You could have punched him. You could have slammed the door in his face.

But…you didn’t. You couldn’t. You crossed your arms and took a step back, but you looked at him.

“Loki…what are you doing here? What else can I say to you? Thanks for your gifts. I know you need help with Kang but…I can’t…I can’t do it…and you have someone waiting for you. Go to her. Go to who you love.”

“But….I am with who I love…” he replied.

A stone dropped into your stomach. Your whole body tightened. Your breath stopped and your throat ran dry.

He stepped inside. Then he cupped your face with both hands.

“Y/N…I’ve been so blind…” he confessed.

Before another word was said, he kissed you on the lips. Deeply, sweetly. You smelled him- smelled popcorn and musk. Yet he tasted of cream on your lips, of froth. Like a dessert after dinner and twice as sweet. He held you so that your lips could stay together. Then he released, still holding your face.

“Loki…what is this? What’s going on? Is this another…another of your tricks, then…” you asked, your voice only half of its strength.

He kept you close. Looking right at you. His voice was so dulcet, so earnest.

“It’s not. Y/N…I never realized how much you cared for me. How much you really did…and to think…I thought I was alone. But I wasn’t. No one saw me…but you…and to think…all this time I was chasing after someone. A shadow. A dream. An illusion better than any I could conjure. An idea of her. Not realizing…that love, that sweetness I have wanted my whole life…was right in front of me…” he said softly.

“You finally came to your senses!” you cried.

Both of you let out a small laugh at that.

“But…she’s with you to fight Kang- and you’re back together?” you asked.

“She doesn’t remember me. And she… wanted nothing to do with me. It struck me what she did…how she treated me. And then I thought of how you treated me…I kept thinking of you, thinking of you. I missed you. I looked for you. I…I didn’t want to cross paths with her…I realized…there was someone always there for me…yes-you…Oh, Y/N, I’ve been a fool,” he breathed.

He held you and kissed you again and you almost gasped into it. Feeling him. You grabbed onto his jacket. Held him close-felt how close he was. His eyelashes. His tall cheekbones graze against your face. It made you shiver. He let go of the kiss, pressing his forehead onto yours.. Both of you closed your eyes and could hear his breathing fluttering.

“Y/N, my dear…can you forgive me?” he asked.

“I can. Can you forgive me?” you asked.

“I already have.”

He let go. He still kept his eyes on you as he reached his hand to the door and pushed it close. The momentum made it shut. His long finger made a swipe-out of it came a bit of green seidr. And you heard a click! The door locked in place.

“I wanted someone who loved me…who would take care of me…and it was you the whole time….it was you, Y/N…I…I don’t…” he muttered.

He paused. Then he put his hands on his hips and looked down. He licked his lips and his eyes scattered, a blush on his cheeks.

“I don’t…even know what to say now…how to put it…uh, Y/N…I…I, uh-”

“I love you too, Loki…and…I’m glad you’re okay now,” you breathed.

You were on him to kiss him again. He pulled you close. He moved a little tongue in. Your breath hitched from feeling him there. His hands on your back-keeping you pressed against him. Never wanting to let go.

“Y/N…don’t let this end here. Let me stay…let me stay for tonight…” he whispered.

“You can stay,” you said with a nod.

You felt his fingers dig into your skin. To leave his fingerprints on you.

He then moved on to kiss your neck. It tickled you a little. But he found a sensitive spot- a spot rarely kissed. He pressed his lips to it as he held you close. Then he used a bit of teeth. It elicited a groan from you. You felt him tense up as it escaped your lips. He sucked the area.

“Here…now you’ll never doubt that you are mine…and I am yours…”

He made another bite, another mark. Arousal squirmed inside you, releasing out to your panties with his touch, his lips on your skin. He kissed you again and you melted into it. The friction between you was building up. He squared his hips to meet your own and you stifled a gasp. His hands wander down your body-exploring each curve and shape, hidden only by the thin cotton of your sleepwear. Feeling you like a discovery of forgotten land. Finding each nook and curve of your shape inside your clothes. But you did not move an inch away-but kept him there. You ran a hand up to feel his back-always so warm. Masculine even.

“Loki…darling…” you moaned out as he kissed each bit of the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder. His hands wrapped to be around your back.

He kissed you again. You reached your hand to rake through his dark curls- they had been washed and were so fresh and clean and soft-softer than the petals of the flowers on your desk.

You could feel something getting hard from his office pants. It brushed against the crotch of your own clothes and made you quench beneath.

“Y/N…my pet…I want…I want to have you…to have you now…will you let me?” he asked.

“Yes…yes, I do…I want you…” you agreed.

“Then… let's make up for lost time…” he growled.

He kept kissing you as he put his hands around your waist, grabbing you and taking you right to your bedroom. His hands moving back up to cup your face, to keep kissing you so close. He released and looked down at your clothes. He then touched your collar, seeing where it dipped, and showed a bit of your chest. He smiled as his hands went down, feeling the material.

“If I knew this had any chance of happening, I would’ve worn something else…” you confessed.

“Does that really matter when the best part will always be beneath it?” he asked.

With a flash of seidr from his fingers, the pajamas vanished and you were naked before him. You gasped at the cold. You fought the urge to cover yourself. It wasn’t that this was your first- but to show your body before Loki was a different matter. You have never wanted someone so bad, and you never felt more…vulnerable. Your arms flinched to cover your breasts then he caught you.

“Ah-ah, Don’t hide your beauty from me, not anymore…” he said with a playful tone.

He moved your arms aside to see you. He cupped one breast in his large, beautiful hand- thumb grazing the nipple, making you shiver.

“Yes…that is the best part…” he said.

He kissed you again, his hand wandering down- feeling your bare back. Even grazing your bottom, then going up to your hips, your curves. He was feeling you- treasuring each inch of you. He kissed you again as you connected your hips to his. Electricity shooting through you. You let out a shuddering groan. He gave you another smile- it was so lustful, so devilisih, so him.

“There’s something else I can do, my Y/N…would you like to try it?” he boasted quietly.

“Yes…show me what it is…”

“I can hold you back…tie you without any silk, any rope, any chains, any restraint…” he whispered.

“How?” you pressed.

There was a light flashing in his eyes-so light, so different. From the dim lights of your room out came shadows like his- with his horned helmets on them. The shadows lurched over and you almost gasped. Then they went down to the floor.

“They can touch you- do you want to know what they feel like?” he asked.

“Yes…”

The shadows reached out their arms, traveling up. They felt like mist when they grazed your skin. But then one pulled up your first arm high- and it was strong. You couldn’t break out of it, no matter how you tugged. Then the other lifted your other arm up high. The light was still in Loki’s eyes, the shadows lifted you up before him. A prize free for his taking. He grinned as they wandered on how your position made your breasts dangle before him.

“Now…where were we…ah, yes…” he said.

The shadows were strong but gentle as they moved you over. You were floating-then they laid you on the bed. Your arms were lifted to remain high over your head as your back went over the duvet. Your arms were held over your head, laying over the pillow.

“I…I like this power…”

He smirked, his hands still in his pockets.

“As do I…and I am bout to like them even more…”

More shadows appeared- they flicked across your legs.

“What pleasure is hidden between here- they can help show me, perhaps…”

They curled to your ankles and then gently opened your legs before him.-showing your dripping pussy before the god. He played cool. Only his quick breaths and the bulge in his pants hinted at his craving, his desire. Your breasts out and your legs opened- nothing hidden. Now the shadows had you out and open-something for him to devour, something out to be fucked.

He walked forward. He brought out a long finger. He touched your folds gently, sliding them down. You let out a gasp.

“L-Loki…” you breathed out. It was so sinful, so filthy you couldn’t help but love it.

“Why…this is quite the picture. If I could only paint it…but I only want this masterpiece for myself, and no one else.” he rasped.

He walked over to the bed. Then he crawled so he was between your legs. The shadows keeping your legs open. His hand grazed over your inner thigh.

“Here…you’ve been a good little angel Taking care of me. Shhhh-shhh- you don’t need to object, to think of my pleasure for now. You’ve worked so hard…now relax…let your god take care of you this time, darling.”

You were gasping and whimpering. He began to taste you- his tongue inside. He groaned as his tongue went further into your folds. His cold breath against your private wetness made public for him. Your arms flinched but the shadows held you tight. He flicked his tongue and you let out a small groan.

“L-L-Loki…yes…I-oh, oh god-yes…” you sputtered out.

His shadows lifted your hips so he could taste further. His tongue delved. It found your clit and you shuddered from it. He gave a few licks. He went up closer to where your clitoris was swollen and waiting for him. Then he stopped.

“Now this…this tastes better than any of those Midgardian meal down there…This one is sweeter, with much more juices…and this one I can devour at no cost at all…”

You were whimpering-letting him lick your clit. Letting his tongue go through- each bit of you. Explore you. Your own cries filled you up. But the shadows kept you wide open.

“L-Loki…that…that feels so-so good…”

With a small gasp, you felt pleasure spiral in you. He licked a bit further-and soon it broke on you. Like the wings of a bird when it catches the wind and lifts up. The pleasure burst and you let out a gasp from your petit mort.

Your heart was racing, and your blood coursing through you. Loki was smiling- his lips wet with your juices. And still fully clothed.

“I hope they don’t replace me-I’ve yet to get my hands on you again, my pet.”

He crawled on top of you. He kissed you so his tongue got into yours-another hole for him to claim. You could taste your own earthy scent and thick juices. Still restrained, he held you, grinding lightly onto you. Your hips lifted a little to meet his- no shadows needed. But you felt their cool touch curling around you. Touching all over you- he wanted to touch you, feel you, know you, devour you in every way.

“Please…I want more…I want you…I want you inside of me, Loki…” you begged.

He smirked, a curl coming loose on his face.

“Oh…my tongue was only to prepare you, my dear…I hope you are ready…”

“Yes…yes-please..I want you to fuck me, fuck me until I forget everything else…forget Kang, the TVA, timelines, all of it! I don’t care if it’s by your shadow’s cock or yours- I need you! All of you!”

“You need only ask, my dove,” he purred.

The green seidr flashed with a tilt of his head, then down it went. It melted his clothes off. He became naked. You underestimated how fit his body was. You forgot your words at this sight of his nakedness. How strong, muscled, and broad he was despite his leanness. His masculine hairs across his chest-his large, strong biceps. Abdominals and a very happy trail leading to his erect largeness. The shadows curled their grip around you. They pulled your legs to open wider.

“I hope you’re ready for the love of a god,” he murmured.

He embraced you, kissing you as he began to sink in. Bit by slow bit. He got himself in, groaning. You let out a cry when all of him was inside. He was so big, you had to adjust. Your arms flinched again but they remained held back. His arms reached around you-keeping you close. He then held you- his own hands digging into your hips and thrusting into you.

“Oh-oh, god!” you whimpered

“That’s- that’s what I like to- to hear-shall you try it again? Yes- yes-urgh- so-so tight, my love-yes-” he growled.

He began to slowly thrust into you. He groaned into it- slow, but steady. Intruding your insides. He rolled with you, a gentle rolling of his body. Kissing you deeply. Then he kept at it. Your voice escaped you. His cock disappeared and reemerged. But he looked at your face, in your eyes as he fucked you into your bed.

With a flick of his head, the shadows moved your legs so that your knees bent and you were angled deeper.

“Fuck! Oh-oh dear-Loki I-I-I can’t-shit-can’t believe this-this is-fuck- happening--happening right now-it’s-it’s-its-fuck!- too good to be true-” you breathed.

“Oh, it’s-it’s true darling…”

He thrust carefully, slowly. Then he picked up. His voice was like that of a hiss, right into your ear.

“And you’re-” Thrust. “-Mine.” Thrust.

He kept kissing you as he thrust, thrust, thrust. His shadows testing you, splaying you a little more open. Hearing each other's groans. Moaning your name, repeating it like a prayer of his own. A prayer only a god could give. His own grunts were deep and guttural. He found the right pace. Painting with each thrust, thrust, thrust.

“Yes…yes, you’re-you’re mine and-yes-I will…I will be yours-we are at each other’s mercy…now…yes-”

His pace increased. His shadows holding you back bed hitting itself against the wall. Then the shadows moved so your legs flew right up by him. It was so wild, so fast. Then his long finger curled to your entrance. Finding the clit. Rubbing so hard- so much. Slam, slam, slam, slam. You gasped- it was the right, perfect place. You were going up, up in your pleasure. His finger tested your clit faster, harder with his thrusts. You felt his voice, his groans rising in pitch. And that bubbling, spinning feeling was going inside you, your toes clenching as your legs were up in the air.

“Oh…oh gods…Loki…I’m going to cum again-I-I am…”

He held you close- this time his own flesh-his thrusts wilder, desperate. He was breathless, with every gasp, every taking in of pleasure, he urged you. His voice husky and to the point of breaking.

“Yes-yes-go-there-I…I can’t—cum, darling, cum with me-your heat, your wetness-it’s going to-going to overwhelm me-I…I can’t I-yes-yes-cry out-cry out my name, darling…I-I-I-”

His thrusts were so wild, pounding you right into the bed. Nailing you there, completely taking you over. That sweet spot- thrust, thrust, thrust, thrust, thrust-when it hit like lightning that you let out what started as his name, and then you hit it, it became a shout.

“L-Ah!”

It reverberated throughout your home. Whoever was next door or nearby would definitely hear it. With a strangled cry of his own, he arrived as well.

His shadows retreated. He still wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling into you. His arms wrapping around you. He felt so warm- you could smell his sweat, feel how he had to catch his breath. Your heart was still reeling after that bout of pleasure. He hugged you close.

“Holy shit…” you breathed out.

He let out a small smile and you both laughed.

“To think I could’ve been enjoying…that all this time, my dear…” he said, he kissed you on the forehead. “And now…I hope you don’t mind that again….”

“Can it be every day?” you asked.

“Of course!” he laughed.

He sighed as you settled into each other.

“What are we going to tell Mobius…the TVA?” you wondered.

“We’ll think of something…” he said.

You sat up, wrapping the blanket around you. With a bit of magic, he conjured a large shirt over you-soft and comfortable.

“I was going to get some wine and Cheesecake- would you like any?” you asked.

“Both Sounds lovely to me…but Y/N…I am genuinely sorry, I really am.” he said, his eyes wide and sweet.

“And I genuinely forgive you…emotions make people do things-”

He grinned.

“Such as this,”

He pulled you to his lap. You hugged and kissed his cheek. Yes, you would figure out life as a couple in the TVA together. Life with some new villain back and on the rise. But for now…you had to just enjoy each other. This new, blossoming, new love. Yes- how good that word felt rumbling in your mind. It echoed as he joined you to get plates and glasses.

You both smiled as you had your first sips and ate your first bites. He thanked you with a kiss- tasting sweeter than any food, dessert or dinner- could ever taste to you.

477 notes · View notes

chaewonshoney · 13 days

Text

—SWEET (S)TALKER –s.jy

₊˚⊹ pairing: idol!bf!jake x gn!reader ⭒ warnings: swearing, mentions of stalking, petnames. word count: 604. LIB! ｡⋆˚ genre: fluff, drabble, est. relationship. songs to listen while reading: Bam Yang Gang by BIBI ⤷ ˖ ֗𖦹 a/n: none!

After the whole day at college, you are currently walking to your apartment. the streets are quiet and the rain seems to have stopped, as the last drops slowly drip from the trees, the roads are slippery, faded moonlight illuminated the path up ahead. The stars seemed to have been dimmed by the grey clouds ahead and all was silent... save for the sound the grasshoppers chirring and soft footsteps on the wet sidewalks. Your heart was far from caring if someone was following you from behind. Feeling the melancholy creeping your chest, you took a long breath. Jake a.k.a the love of your life has certainly been very busy with his schedule to see you or spend some time with you. But he didn't forget to send you the good mornings and good night to his prettiest girl so far, yet you were... Well you felt greedy at this point, but you had the right anyway.

Listening to the argument between your two selves, you suddenly felt a vague presence of something, more like someone behind you... Being afraid enough to look behind, you focus on the shadow of that "someone" on the sidewalk, his reflection seemed more like oddly familiar and comforting now. Shutting your eyes close, you take some deep breaths to turn to face the presence...

Shit? Why is this guy running towards you? Without having any time to think properly, you start running towards the front direction too, are you scared? Kind of. But are you having fun? Yes.

After running in the literal street like two cat and mouse, you stop to catch on your breath, the stalker— well, shit, you can't name him anything else right? Your grip tightens on your knees as you exhale some more, and the guy is already close to approaching you—

"JAKE YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER!!!" You yell at the guy, well, your boyfriend who wasn't really supposed to be the stalker, no? "Whoa whoa whoa, princess! Calm down? It's just me? Remember? The pretty boyfriend of yours?" He holds his arms up in surrender as you smack his shoulder softly enough but he was dramatic anyway, "Shut the fuck up, will ya?" You roll your eyes at the sight of him dramatically putting his hand on his chest as if he was hurt, "Shit, Princess! That hurts~ Do you know where that hurts?" Giving you the puppy eyes, he reaches for your tiny hands to his chest, "Literally here. Straight in the heart," But to his misfortune, he only gets the stink eyes back from his way-too-soft girlfriend, "Don't even try that," "try what, love?" You roll your eyes to hide the shy, bright shade of scarlet rising on your cheeks, "Try sweet talking with me, definitely not when you were some sort of stalking me as well. And to let you know, I am thinking of banning the L-word for you," "Oh my, holy shit, Y/N, don't even think of it! I don't want to know how it feels to be a monastic. And I wasn't stalking you, my love, it's not my fault if my gee eff is a half-blind Dora the Explorer, right?" He brings you closer to him while yapping— well, saying all these to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he talks, "I am NAWT half-blind Dora the Explorer, Sim Jaeyun!!!" "Not the government name, Princess. How "the love of my life" sounds?" "I am not falling for your sweet talking today." He wiggles his eyebrows with the knowing playful expression, "Wanna bet?"

Oh, this wasn't supposed to be it.

#jake enhypen #jake x y/n #jake sim #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #jake x reader #enhypen soft hours #enhypen #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #jake fluff

105 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 1 year

Text

Eight-Thirty PM

CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!Reader (from It Had To Be You series)

Summary: Steve returns after a long business trip.

Warnings for smut. Yeah, it's not rocket science. They bang in the office. Yes, of course, on the desk. Yeah, up against the window, too. And a chair. And the floor. Look, it's just smut (with very light bondage, consensually unprotected sex, hint of marking kink, dirty talk, and the ever-expected fact that I'm going to hell). WC 3k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY. There's plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this work is not for you!

“Why are you still here?”

Your head shoots up from your tablet. You didn’t think he’d come back to the office. Steve’s plane landed only an hour ago, and after a grueling two weeks of flying around the world to five different countries, you thought you’d see him tomorrow after he’s slept off the jet lag.

Overnight bag in hand, your co-CEO and boyfriend is still wearing an overcoat and work suit from meetings on the other side of the Atlantic just twelve hours ago.

You’ve been in this office just as long, finishing up the odds and ends from new contracts.

Giving a quick shrug, you answer, “You know damn well I don’t leave until the day is done.”

He sighs dramatically in your doorway, giving a pointed glare to the clear night that has fallen outside. If he’s brought his bag all the way up though, Steve planned to work, too, the hypocrite.

“What’s left?” He drops his bag in the corner, the door automatically swinging shut, and walks to your side, planting one hand by your elbow and one on the back of your chair to peer at your screen.

For the last fifteen minutes, you’ve been scrolling mindlessly through news articles, dreading going to your empty apartment for one more night. You’d hoped Steve would call when he landed, ask you out to dinner, or immediately back to his place, so you waited and zoned out.

“Ah yes, pressing stuff,” he grumbles at your social media feed. “How dare I interrupt this?”

You drop your hands to your lap and spin toward him.

“How else am I supposed to keep you supplied with soothing yet hilarious animal memes?”

Steve hasn’t changed his lean over you, so his face is just there, within reach, but you hold firm.

He lifts the hand from the desk to stroke your cheek, voice like warm honey tea. “Of course. That makes sense.”

Like a magnetic dance of alignment, he shifts and so do you, forcing you to rise from your chair. Words don’t come to mind while Steve crowds your space, hands deftly finding your hips and petting—pushing, rather—you back towards your office window.

“Is this new? I like it.”

The blouse you bought in Japan, the perfectly tailored pencil skirt is from Italy, and your ability to resist his presence was on loan. Time just expired.

His long fingers bunch the thick fabric of your bottoms higher and higher until your thinly veiled ass presses against the window for the whole world to see. Not that anyway cares; not that anyone can look in when you have an unobstructed view out to the water. You couldn’t care less when Steve is back.

He’s back, back here, back by your side, back against your body, a thin, reinforced pane of glass separating you both from a thirty-story, sheer drop. If you could shift your feet six inches farther, you’d be flying like a superhero above New York City.

That’s ridiculous. There aren’t people who can fly. Superheros don’t exist…but if they did…

Steve Rogers would be a prime specimen. He and his broad, stabilizing hands—the ones anchoring your hips to that precariously invisible wall, the ones suspending you between ecstasy and terror—would definitely classify as hero-level marvelous.

Your skin buzzes, alive and anticipating. Your mind drowns in the wave of rich, comforted by the scent flooding the air around you.

That damn soap.

Those broad hands move up your sides, gripping so firm and hot your blouse wrinkles in their wake until his fingers finally reach the column of your neck. He replaces the grounding effect of pinning you with a deliberate thrust of his hips. His breath rolls between his fingers at your throat. The sensation brings you back from truly floating.

“Precious…”

Your leaden eyelids struggle to open. You hadn’t realized they were even closed. When he fills every sense, what’s lack of sight? He’s just so wonderful to feel, and he’s almost too glorious to behold: dark, blown pupils; tongue striping across his bottom lip; pristinely coifed hair slightly out of place in his rush to corner you.

You missed him. You missed this because this is Steve in your space, and he doesn’t invade. No. Steve enlightens the world around you. He lifts your work-weary soul up another thirty stories high and makes you believe that thing he’s always saying to you.

You’re amazing.

You sure as shit feel amazing when the first prickles of his beard scuttle across your jaw, the distance between you so minuscule now that you’re left with a void of all else but him and his oh-so-smooth, plush lips grazing yours.

With a shaky, deep breath and a sensual rasp to his voice, Steve starts, “So about the Cloutman contract…”

You almost laugh, but you almost slap him, too.

He just won’t quit. It really is so marvelously irritating.

“Shut up,” you huff into his mouth before taking hold of his lapels and making him.

You offer your best reciprocation of hot hands all over him, sliding beneath his coat and blazer to wrap his heaving chest and cling while he shrugs the layers off. Your tongues dance and slow. Your mouths suck and nibble. Your lips touch and tease.

You could not go on like this all night. You need each other after this long apart.

“Got any condoms in your office,” you ask during one break for air.

Steve freezes.

You didn’t actually anticipate the answer would be ‘no.’ Somehow, though he’s never dated much, though he’s rarely even touched you in the office these last two months of dating, you expected him to have…some sort of manly stash everywhere.

“Not in your bag?” you try.

Steve looks horrified, huffing, “You weren’t on the trip with me.” Why would he need condoms without you? his look continues silently.

You bite your lip and try not to laugh.

Door to door, the office to his place is over half an hour, the office to your place takes forty-five minutes on the best day, and to a drug store and back here would cost both twenty minutes and your dignity. You would never send a driver on that kind of errand, so you keep mulling over your options

Steve’s so disappointed, in mourning for his last moments before even more travel, running his fingers along the silky fabric of your blouse, the supple leather of your skirt, and the soft cotton of your panties.

“Maybe we should sit,” you suggest, thinking he’ll walk you over to one of the three chairs in the room, but Steve plunks his ass down right on his coat pooled atop the carpet.

He pulls you into his lap, hands still roaming your clothing. He seems resigned to staring at the sliver of your décolleté beyond your collar, and it’s natural to tease him by starting to unbutton it. Two weeks is too long to go without seeing that slack-jawed look of envy for the fabrics that are allowed to kiss your skin all day. He’s as ravenous as an addict before they fall right back off the wagon.

“Okay,” you say finally.

Steve absently repeats you, but you’re solid in your decision.

Last week was your period, there are no fluctuations in your cycle to concern you, and you even thought that was a lucky break while your new-ish boyfriend was away. Then the word’s meaning seems to dawn on Steve.

“Okay-okay?” He swallows thickly.

Your top is undone, so you start on his, pulling the Windsor knot loose from his neck and moving slowly.

“Oh-kay,” you repeat, button by button.

Steve inhales sharply through his nose. “Like okay we don’t have one?” His face exposes his thoughts tentatively, a spark of something akin to hope here, a flicker of darker desire there. “You want me to…” he puffs out his chest “…and then I’ll just—“

“—come inside me.”

“—pull out,” he finishes. “What?!” It’s the world’s smallest exclamation. All the air rushes out of him. His blue eyes shadow as if dusk hit the harbor in a sudden eclipse.

You push the crisp white shirt over his broad shoulders.

“Precious,” Steve breathes, “are you sure?” Once the sleeves are off his arms, he pets down his beard. “You…”

“Uh-huh.” You nod, sliding off the navy tie.

“You’re sure,” he says again, unconvinced, short-circuiting. “I never…”

You understand his hesitation, you really do, but Steve doesn’t have to become a broken record questioning your choices. It’s a reasonable call in your monogamous relationship, and if he fucking ruins this for you after waiting half a month for his return, you’re gonna…you’re gonna…get ideas.

Ideas like this one.

You take Steve’s hands in yours and start wrapping the tie around his wrists.

He says nothing. He doesn’t even look down. He just stares at your face as you concentrate on tying a couple of knots on the makeshift binding and glance back up at him. He keeps his hands together, suspended between your bodies, unwilling to move yet.

So you keep working.

You undo his belt and unzip his pants, watching his lips fall open and the thoughts racing behind his eyes slow down. It’s a hard reset—one making Steve harder and harder beneath your touch.

“Hey, Captain,” you husk, leaning into his paralyzed hands only to have him recoil in alarm, “whatcha thinking?”

His long fingers grip gently at your face, face close to yours. Steve licks across his lips excruciatingly slow. “Say it again.”

“Fuck me.”

He growls, sweeping his arms over your head and pinning you to his chest. With ease, Steve rolls onto his knees and rises, carrying you until your ass hits the chilly wood of your desk. He drags his body between your wide legs.

“Say it again.”

He bends forward, forcing you to lay back with his bound hands cradling your head, heat surging down your body when his warm skin sits flush down your torso.

With his lips latched just below your ear, you whisper in his, “I want you to come inside me.”

You feel his teeth graze your throat as Steve grunts involuntarily, ripping his hands out from under you and shoving down his pants and boxer briefs. He orders you to remove your panties, demands you unhook the front clasp of your bra, and presses his erection to your core. He praises your exposed beauty while shushing your incoherent whimpers. His arms push past your shoulders and settle beneath the small of your back, angling you perfectly for his cock to slide back and forth through your folds, his hips nudging that too-long neglected bundle of nerves.

No more long, solo business trips, you think before your mind blurs in the low lamp light, you won’t survive another absence.

He spreads your arousal between you for an agonizing eternity, swipe after swipe, making you cry out every time the head of him notches in just the right spot. He could be in you right now. He could be fucking your brains out. At least that would give you reason to be this stupidly cock-crazed already.

“Didn’t use to need it like this,” Steve mutters into the valley of your breasts. “Went so long without. Can’t now.” He nips at the swell of you. “Not a day—not a night without…wanting this.”

He’s slow to push the head in, having foregone stretching you on his fingers, but he lavishes your nipples with attention enough to have you mewling for more.

“…wanting you…”

You gasp as his edging progression throbs across your whole body. His thick length and dextrous tongue coax every thrill back to the side of pleasure that curls your toes and shakes your thighs around him. He thrusts shallowly before pressing deeper, bullying a nipple with strong suction as he struggles to control himself.

“Missed you. Missed you so much.”

It makes you soar to hear him so broken, unable to separate his need for your company from his need to bury himself in you, unable to rein in his raw, animalistic desire to fill you in any way.

Steve fights this nature.

He fights to be respectful. He fights to be appreciative. He fights to ensure you always feel seen as more than just a woman, but right at this moment, it is the greatest accomplishment of your career to override the genius mind of Steve Rogers and make him crumble in worship of your pussy.

When he’s fully seated within your walls, you shiver straight into his embrace.

“I love you,” you breathe, pulling your arms out from beneath his to card through his hair.

Steve whines at the intimacy, muttering how good you feel into your neck before finding you for a kiss.

“I love you, too.”

Your spit-slicked nipples graze his rough chest hair with every bounce of Steve’s frantic and increasingly wild thrusts. His excitement fuels yours, his moans turning to groans while your core heats up like a kettle on the cusp of whistling.

“Are you sure?” he asks, but he sounds so wrecked, so incapable of any rational thought that isn’t pure praise of you.

His huge hands cling to your shoulder blades. The bite of short fingernails barely registers on your sweating skin. All you can do is scream in warning.

Your body clamps down, fluttering a strong and desperate rhythm of its own against him.

“Oh fuck, precious,” Steve pants, hustling to move his arms back around to your front, pressing into your tight stomach, imagining the glide of his cock beneath his palms as he holds you still.

He’s lost and lust-drunk, focused on pumping you full of his cum and relishing the new sensation. His eyes shut, lashes kissing his cheeks, and his head lolls back in one last choked shout.

It’s so much wetter combined with you, so much nastier and possessive.

He kneads gently at your belly, still pushed in as deep as he can be, and lets out a breathy chuckle in utter, debauched bliss.

A second later, Steve easily twists out of the looped tie, tossing it in a heap beside you on the desk and petting every inch of you he can reach as he comes down.

His descending calm only sends you reeling.

You watch the corruption of man in 4K high definition as Steve succumbs to this new, greedy delight. You see the very moment it dawns on him that he’s a righteously common man—replete with vice he’s unlikely to recover from. His downfall keeps you floating on shockwaves like you’re in a mosh pit, his every expression pushing you back into the fog of orgasm.

You did this. You did this to him as much as he did this to you.

Eyes glazed and dark, Steve’s fingertips finally trace the joint of your hip.

The tickle makes you buck against him, knocking him back a little, and slowly, Steve does pull out entirely. He never lets go of you though.

His thumb finds your clit and starts up another leisurely pace. He sits his bare ass on your office chair and looks directly at your exposed sex, staring as the stimulation makes you clench.

You hear the powerful man between your legs roll forward for a better view.

You feel him leaking out of you and know he’s holding that gaze for a moment longer before yanking out a few tissues from the box in your drawer and wiping up what he can. He’s gentle, but he doesn’t have to be so slow to clean you.

You expect that to be it.

He’s brought you back down—albeit teasingly,—returned from his trip to some feral, nomad land, and that’s likely the end of your romp at work with straight-laced, kind Steve Rogers.

But his hot hand finds your calf, lifting your leg to drape over his shoulder. He doesn’t even wait until the other leg is moved into place before his lips lock around that sensitive nub still aching from attention.

He goes to town, particularly ravenous for more noise, pausing for long periods to caress and nuzzle the plush skin of your thighs. He whispers how he likes the smell of you two together, how it’s stronger, maybe because he’s been away, how you smell potent and ready for him, and he didn’t hurt you, did he? He just wanted you so bad. Needed you.

You lean into his new-found obsession, steadily rising high again, body and soul.

Did he like marking you? you ask. Will he keep thinking about it?

Will he want to keep you full and watch it overflow from you?

Is he ready to fuck you again already?

Your words don’t even shame the golden boy begging to suffocate between your legs; they only encourage him. He has you gushing again in minutes. It takes longer for the sparking electricity of your high to dissipate than it did to build the charge.

He simply watches with a smile on his face and his lips sliding across the tender back of your knee.

Eventually, you sit up, gasping for air, blouse and bra still trapped on your elbows, skirt still hiked up to your waist. No more words pass between you. You hold each other in an adoring gaze, giggling when he has to help you put your feet back on the ground.

You fluff your destroyed hair and step onto wobbly legs. Steve races to help, but you only move to straddle him in the chair, your hand finding his still-slick cock that’s well on its way to hard. His eyes meet yours and never falter, his hands steady beside your arms in case you need his strength but untouching while you jerk and toy with him. He unabashedly shows you the full mess of him you’ve made, like you let him see of you.

You look over to the clock near the door.

8:30.

The night is still young, and you missed your boyfriend. He’s full of surprises and you want to explore at least one more before breaking to head home.

@bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @rach2602 @patzammit @royalwritersoftheuniverses @supraveng @1950schick @yiiiikesmish

A/N: Hey gang, so I'm in a phase of this emotional cluster-fuck that I honestly cannot tell if my work reads well? Normally, I have a decent radar for the quality I'm looking for/proud of, but lately, absolutely nothing makes par. I'm kinda relying on you guys to tell me if and when we get to a point that it's bad and maybe I need to take a real break. I PROMISED SINFUL SUNDAY THOUGH, so I do hope it was at least passable as entertainment! 💚💜

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

388 notes · View notes

jaylver · 1 year

Text

jay as your bee eff <3

PAIRINGS: boyfie!jongseong x gn!reader

GENRE: established relationship, romance, fluff

WARNINGS: none, except this might be a little messy

WC: 575

A/N: in celebration of jay being back, here's something hehe, it's also really random and sudden but being a jay girl, i needed to write these down and delulu a little (come join me) share some of your thoughts with me through asks if you wants! (it's the best option bc i can't reply to comments help)

– most likely met through someone. friends or family, maybe even family friends. very invisible strings coded ngl.

– IMO he's very gold rush coded too! everybody wants him and that made you second guess, so that's why you never really chased after him

– but knowing jay, he's the type to never back down, he wants you, he is gonna get you. period.

– he's a passionate lover, he's the one to fall harder and deeper

– he would do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to get you

– sacrificing his own to make time for you, bringing you out, listening to you, planning dates together

– cinema dates, dinner dates, he'll always find a way to spend time with you

– he would ALWAYS remember the smallest details about you

– "oh i remembered you said you like xx" and he turns up with that next

– you liked the cake he bought? it's going to be in his hands the next time you meet

– very lowkey about being rich, it's basically like the 'crazy rich asians' scene where she founds out he's rich 😭

– is the type to shower you with gifts even though you already said it's no need, but it's his way to showing you love by gift giving

– mutual pining, lots of mutual pining before being official

– he probably confessed to you in a really romantic poetic way let's be fr

– he's very affectionate, he loves with his HEART

– lowkey pda, doesn't like kissing in public but he does like skinships, he does like small kisses on cheeks, forehead pecks!

– holding hands, hands around your waist/shoulder, reassuring squeezes

– your family LOVES HIM!!! he might seem shy at first but he KNOWS how to charm your relatives

– your mum loves him, he's always over and helping her out, being the gentleman as ever!!

– family dinners with relatives, he would check up on you from time to time, squeezing your thigh in reassurance, telling you jokes and making you laugh

– from a 3rd pov y'all just seem like you're in your own world #cute

– REALLY GOOD AT COMMUNICATION!

– as someone who gets really quiet when mad, i feel like he'll definitely know, giving you space to calm down and then approaching you, making you feel better

– good with words, he knows what to say to make you feel better/less anxious

– for my swifties out there, he's very "all of the girls you loved before" coded to me ☹️☹️

– he gets possessive sometimes, but nothing serious, also can be a jealous boy at times

– he needs words of affirmation! he can get a little worried/insecure sometimes, so it's important to give assurance!

– he's talkative, you'll give all ears and listen to his rants

– being talkative, it also means he CAN NEVER stop talking about you <3

– to his friends, family, he'll just be saying "oh y/n loves this" whenever he sees something that reminds him of you, he's a big sweetheart wbk

– secretly loves it when you come and bug him when he works

– enjoys cuddling in bed, running his hand over your back and playing with your hair.

– loves when you play with his hair, his hands, just the most simple things ever and he loves them all

– when the lights are off and you two are still awake, best believe you'll be talking until late into the night.

– at the end of the day, he'll give you the most healthy and stable relationship ever <3 he's the absolute best !!!

– super husband material, get ready for your family/friends to start asking "when are you guys getting married?"

– soon!!

569 notes · View notes

vinxhwrites · 5 months

Text

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

#ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod one shot #ghostsoap

68 notes · View notes

atlasofearth · 21 days

Text

ttpd anthology opinions except i have no thoughts that aren’t the marauders

the black dog: i expected it to give sirius vibes but this is way too much??? this is the most sirius song ive ever heard???

imgonnagetyouback: DORLENE’S SONG OH MY GOD. ITS THEIR SONG?????

the albatross: marlene’s anthem…. this is her song…. what the eff word….. i’m obsessed this might be my third fav song on the album

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus: regulus … this song is so him oh my god i can’t do this

how did it end? : “you were blind to unforeseen circumstances” this song is soo canon compliant jegulus… i was writing a loml inspired one short but now i need to write one inspired by this 😶😶

so high school: the guitar 😻 this song is sooo sirius feeling like he could put his walls down around his friends (especially remus!!!!!!) im going insane!!! sirius feels so high school around remus guys

i hate it here : this song is so me… this song is mine guys what the fuck (also very regulus but.. it’s more me idc) i, too, hate it here and escape to secret gardens that i read about in books as a child in my mind and everyone wants the key but there’s only mine…

thank you aimee: IS THIS NOT LILY AND PETUNIAS RELATIONSHIP???? OH MY GOD????

i look in peoples windows: i love the instrumental omfg. i’m getting MAJOR death by a thousand cuts vibes?? she’s a genius?? this song is SO marylily. lily hoping she could find mary even after she left because she didn’t wanna fight “is it right to not know me” oh my god.

the prophecy: this is my number one song. i have many things to say. 1- so harry??? obviously. it’s literally his song. 2- remus WISHING he wasn’t a werewolf, this is his song. 3- lily yearning for peace for her son, wishing he wasn’t destined to live a terrible life. i feel so much guys. 4- also this song is so me. i relate so much, like so so much….

cassandra: oh this is sirius’ song.. he thought he was free after finally escaping grimmauld place, and thensuddenly james died and he’s in azkaban. omg wait but also regulus discovering the horcrux and dying before he had the chance to even find out there were others. “i was onto something, they all said nothing”

peter: IS THIS SONG NOT MARLENE/JAMES BEGGING FOR THEIR LIVES AFTER FINDING OUT PETER WAS THE TRAITOR RIGHT BEFORE THEY DIED???? she’s never beating the mskingbean allegations oh my god

the bolter: i don’t know why this song gives me INTENSE narcissa vibes. this is her song imo idk

robin: this is the black family anthem. this is their song, collectively

FINAL SONG, the manuscript: no marauders thoughts bc i related to this song too much and started crying! 😂

overall; i love these songs so much. i like this collection of songs more than the original ttpd (which says something bc that was AMAZING) top song is a definitely the prophecy

#marauders #james potter #regulus black #barty crouch jr #sirius black #evan rosier #marauders era #dorcas meadowes #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ttpd #anthology #ttpd anthology

29 notes · View notes

genshinarchives · 1 year

Text

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐀'𝐒 𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐 : 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : The world has moved forward, yet your mind is still stuck in the past, as if time had stopped for you many years ago. Kaveh tries to figure out what's wrong with you and is determined to make everything right for you.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Cyno x Kaveh’s sister!Reader; hints of Al-Haitham x reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : Romance, humour, reincarnation

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Suicide briefly mentioned

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : Sorry for the wait! College is giving me a good spanking

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏

"(Y/n), please! Just talk to me! We can work it out together!"

The scholars in the foyer stopped to stare at Kaveh desperately chasing you as you strode inside the Akademiya with unusual ferocity. The moment their gazes landed on you, whispers floated around you like an incessant melody - it felt as if their voices were forming a tight ring around your head, making you rub your ears vigorously as if that would quell their hushed words.

"How could the Akademiya let a student like her stay here?"

"How could the Akademiya let such a monster stay alive?"

"She should just leave quietly."

"Die here quietly."

Your eyes widened. Their voices overlapped with the voices in your memories, and this caused your blood to run cold. You stopped in your tracks abruptly, palms pressed against your ears as you tried to drown out their hurtful words; while you were able to muffle their voices, the last words Azar spoke to you before you died all those years ago rang in the place of silence in your mind. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision, but you refused to let them fall - to admit defeat to the scholars' provocation.

Even in your new life, you can't find the peace that you desired back then.

"If she wasn't such an accomplished student, the Amurta Darshan would have already expelled her for her behaviour-"

"(Y/n)!"

You were startled when a pair of warm hands suddenly cupped over yours. They gently pressed against your hands - it was obvious that the person was trying to help you cover your ears.

"Are you okay?"

It was Kaveh. He sounded worried, yet there's an underlying frustration in his tone. He's struggling to understand your sudden change in behaviour; as your older brother, he felt as if he failed to live up to the promise he had made to his mother before she left for Fontaine after remarrying. Upon seeing the tears gathering in your eyes, Kaveh's gaze softened before he tilted your face up, his hands moving towards your cheeks to carefully wipe away your tears that had unknowingly escaped.

"Do your ears hurt?" he asked, "Should we go to Bimarstan to get them checked?"

"Take me to Azar," was your immediate answer. Surprise flickered in his red hues.

"Azar?" he echoed, knitting his eyebrows together, "Why do you want to see the former Grand Sage?"

You faltered at his question, jaw going slightly slack. "Former Grand Sage? Then who-"

"As expected." Heavy footfall echoed from behind as a pair of boots thudded across the Akademiya's polished marble floor. "The moment I heard the word 'trouble', I knew that it had to involve the two of you."

Kaveh's expression immediately turned sour when a certain Acting Grand Sage appeared beside you, and he quickly moved his hands to your shoulders to pull you behind him, like he was trying to shield you from the man who just made himself known. Al-Haitham folded his arms over his chest as he regarded the siblings with an impassive gaze.

"Though I didn't expect the argument to be about you wishing to withdraw from the Akademiya. I thought it'd be something petty as usual," he dully remarked, eyes trailing over to you. You stiffened when you made eye contact with him. "You've always wanted to study here and proved that by becoming a distinguished student of the Amurta Darshan. I won't push for an answer, but why do you suddenly want to throw everything away after the efforts and sacrifices made to get to where you are?"

"This has nothing to do with you, Al-Haitham," Kaveh swiftly interjected, annoyed by his unwarranted intrusion. The look he was giving his roommate clearly indicated that he doesn't want you to know more than you should about how you're able to stay in the Akadmeiya despite his financial situation; if Al-Haitham saw the look he was given, then he most likely ignored it as he kept talking.

"Nothing to do with me? I think I'm very relevant in this little dispute of yours," Al-Haitham said, a corner of his lips quirking in amusement, "After all, your sister would require my approval to leave the Akademiya... and I still need you to pay your part of the rent."

You stared at Al-Haitham as your mind slowly processed his words. As far as you remember, Kaveh is a successful architect whose magnum opus is the Palace of Alcazarzaray; so why is he sharing a house with the Acting Grand Sage—

—Acting Grand Sage?

Al-Haitham observed your expression. It appeared as if you were just hit with a sudden realisation, and he patiently waited for you speak with his arms folded over his chest.

"... Acting Grand Sage," you began in the calmest voice you could muster at this moment, "if I submitted a request to leave, would you approve of it?"

"No." He didn't hesitate at all in answering you, which made your eyes widen.

"Why?" you asked, pushing past Kaveh to take a step towards him. You're struggling to understand his thought process; you're aware that in this life, the Akademiya views you as a villainess despite your academic achievements. Surely, as the Acting Grand Sage, he'd want to be rid of a scholar as problematic as you? "I'm giving you an opportunity to get rid of me-"

"And that's what I'm suspicious about," he cut in, "You know that it would be a huge loss for the Akademiya if we were to lose a talented doctor like yourself. Isn't that why you continued to act arrogant and conceited towards your peers?"

You opened your mouth to make a rebuttal but ended up not saying anything. You couldn't deny the truth in his words; although the memories of your past life have been awakened, it didn't change the fact that you had caused a lot of trouble for the others prior to it - especially Kaveh, who had tried and was still trying his best to make you happy. You turned your head slightly to glance at your older brother, who didn't look too pleased by what Al-Haitham had uttered to you.

"That's enough. Back off!" Kaveh angrily exclaimed before he grabbed your wrist to tug you back to his side, "Let's get you home, (y/n)." Without waiting for your response, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the Akademiya whilst dragging you behind him. You allowed him to lead you away, your mind too precoccupied with settling the struggle between the memories of your past and present lives.

"Al-Haitham is the Acting Grand Sage... Azar and the other sages have been exiled to Avidya Forest..." you mumbled to yourself, drawing Kaveh's attention. Pulling you aside to one of the gazebos by the spiralling path leading down to Treasures Street, he then let your wrist go, turning around to gently hold your shoulders instead.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, the worry evident in his gaze and tone. Kaveh noticed that you're not paying attention to him or your surroundings; there was a faraway look in your eyes, and this only increased the concern he felt for you. You've been acting strangely since your outburst in Lambad's Tavern, and he's frustrated at himself for not being able to figure out the reason behind it. "(Y/n), please tell me what's wrong. I'm here to help you, you know that."

"Is it true that Azar and the other sages have been exiled to Avidya Forest?" you asked as you pressed a palm against your forehead.

Kaveh knitted his eyebrows together. "I don't know the whole story, but that's what I've heard. Apparently they committed treason against Kusanali, the Dendro Archon."

Kusanali... Your friend's name caused your head to pound painfully; it's like you're struggling to remember something. There's someone else besides Kusanali. Who...?

Kaveh stared at you worriedly when you responded with silence. The hint of pain in your expression didn't go unnoticed by him, and he let out a shaky sigh, his arms slowly pulling you into his warm embrace.

"I'm sorry," he began quietly, "I should have known that studying medicine would be mentally taxing for you. I trusted that you'd be able to handle the pressure... I should have tried to talk you out of becoming a doctor." That was the conclusion he reached; it was the only thing he could think of, out of all the things that could possibly be the reason behind your abrupt decision to withdraw from the Akademiya. "But you'll be graduating in a month. You'll be out of the Akademiya soon. So please endure it for a little longer, okay?"

Kaveh felt a twinge of guilt. He's very familiar with the pressure one would feel as a student of the Akademiya, and he truly didn't want you to suffer. However, you were so close to achieving your dream of becoming the greatest doctor in Sumeru, all because you wanted to help those who are suffering, all because you shared the same ideals as your late father - so he had to give you that one final push to help you reach the finish line that's your dream.

You didn't respond to Kaveh's attempt at comforting you. You simply stood there, allowing him to hug you as your emotions were at conflict with each other. Your feelings as the God of Medicine and Kaveh's younger sister clashed; one part of you wanted to push Kaveh away and tell him to stay out of your life, but the other part of you wanted to cling to your empathetic and reliable older brother and have him soothe your frazzled mind.

"Big brother," you softly called, making him pull back a bit with a slight tilt of his head. As you slowly raised your arms from your sides, you leaned into his warmth, surprising him. You then embraced him tightly, finally letting yourself bask in the warmth of another person.

Kaveh stared at you with wide eyes, having not expected you to react this way. However, he reciprocated your gesture without a second thought, knowing that comfort was what you needed the most - and as your older brother, he'll do anything to ensure your happiness and safety, to ensure that you won't suffer the same misfortunes as him.

"Everything will be okay," he said, a soft smile crawling over his lips.

How long has it been since he last held you like this?

Ever since Cyno saved you from the desert, you haven't been the same. There were times when you'd be overwhelmed with a sadness he couldn't understand that you were unable to do anything but shed endless streams of tears. You became a painfully frank person, yet you never stopped helping the people around you.

Kaveh didn't know what terrible incident had happened back in the sands of Sumeru, and it hurt him to see you slowly distance yourself from him and your emotions.

"Was Azar charged for any other crimes?" you suddenly asked, drawing him out of his thoughts. He shook his head.

"Nothing that I could think of," he replied with a small frown, "What's with the sudden interest in Azar anyway? I didn't take you as someone who'd be interested in Vahumana's studies."

At his answer, you pulled yourself away from Kaveh immediately, eyes wide in disbelief. "So he was only punished for committing treason against the Dendro Archon? Nobody... Nobody knew what he and the General Mahamatra did to the God of Medicine?"

Kaveh blinked as he automatically thought of Cyno when you mentioned the General Mahamatra. However, he quickly dismissed the thought, realising that you must be talking about one of the previous General Mahamatra who lived during the God of Medicine's time.

"I... think so," he answered unsurely, cupping his chin, "But what could Azar have done to the God of Medicine? I don't recall hearing anything happening between them, nor have I heard anyone mentioning a General Mahamatra conspiring against a god with him..."

You stared at Kaveh, your hands shaking slightly. This can't be. Azar couldn't have...

"How..." You paused, dreading to voice your next question. "How did the God of Medicine die?"

Meeting your gaze, Kaveh said, "I read in one of Al-Haitham's books that her mental state deteriorated after King Deshret's death, and that her condition worsened after the Dendro Archon disappeared during the Cataclysm five hundred years ago. She later committed suicide, and had asked Azar beforehand to get rid of her body by burning it as her death would cau- (Y/n)?!" Kaveh cut himself off when he saw you sinking to the ground as your knees buckled. Shock was etched on your face, as if you've just received some horrifying news. Crouching down to your level, he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes trained upon your countenance. "What's wrong?"

You couldn't believe it. Azar had gone this far in his betrayal and even passed your death off as mere suicide.

Even the General Mahamatra...

"Zulfiqar... didn't even try to save me..." you mumbled. Your past self received no justice, unlike the Dendro Archon. How is that fair?

Kaveh was left perplexed by your muted utterances. "Zulfiqar...? Who is that?"

"He's one of my predecessors."

Kaveh turned his head when he heard a familiar voice and saw Cyno approaching the gazebo the two of you were in. The General Mahamatra stopped right in front of you as his crimson hues seemed to pierce into your very soul.

"He was the General Mahamatra up until the God of Medicine's death," Cyno continued, his eyes never leaving your form.

You gazed at Cyno, your pupils dilating. "You're... the General Mahamatra..."

"I wish we could love each other and laugh together."

There's suddenly an incessant ringing in your ears. You immediately covered them in a futile attempt to block it out.

"I wish I could protect all the kindhearted people, including you, ya hayati."

Beads of cold sweat dotted your forehead. The image of another man overlapped with Cyno's figure - and for some reason, it made your heart clench painfully.

"Please... don't forgive me."

The man's golden eyes were filled with pain and remorse as he looked at you, his long silver hair reminding you of the moon that had graced you with its benevolent light on the night of your death.

"Y-you..." you whispered, the sharp throb of your heart making you gasp loudly. Overwhelmed by the memories of your previous life, your consciousness soon slipped away.

Eyes widening, Kaveh caught you in his arms as you fainted. He carefully cradled your head against his chest, arms wrapped around you protectively. "(Y/n)! Oh Archons- Please-" Kaveh tried his best to remain calm. Panic, fear, frustration - they raged like a tempest inside him. He had lost so many things in life, and you're the one thing he can't bear to lose or give up on, no matter what.

"She seems to be unwell. Shall I carry her to Bimarstan?" Cyno offered, watching Kaveh struggle to stand up with you in his arms.

"N-no," Kaveh replied with a grunt, "She's my younger sister, so I'll carry her myself." When he's finally on his feet, he began walking in the direction of Bimarstan as his thin arms slightly shook with the physical strain. During the entirety of his way there, his worried gaze never left your face.

What's happening to you?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @crunchy-princeles / @ghostlysyntaxed / @riylvx / @bloopthebat / @chuusposts / @eirlysian / @airentia / @littlepotatowizard / @misfortuneyoi / @arkhammaid / @blackcatpandora / @phoenixiaxia / @hwayuni / @thelonelyarchon / @asoulsreverie / @www-kiana-mp3 / @raegreenie4 / @yaesflorist / @changgchangg25 / @slimearchon / @zomzomb1e / @faeragremlinhole / @deepdinosaurwizard / @lysslilyc / @rebeccawinters / @tiddieshakeshownu / @kxslana / @mshope16 / @lovelypadisarah / @sakeeeee / @sarah22447 / @nyantodamax145 / @charisa-chan / @katojikutaakino /

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno #kaveh #alhaitham #cyno x reader #alhaitham x reader #fem reader #under the matra's umbrella #✍️ : alice writes

255 notes · View notes

respectthepetty · 5 months

Text

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 3

Because I have asks in my inbox about the color coding in Pit Babe even though I don't want to watch it, I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are. I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, I'm going to take off the captions.

Jeffery was outside listening (still sus) and these two finally have blue on their bodies but are also still sus. I'm not even going to learn their names because they will betray all of us.

I don't need captions for this. As a chismosa, I know when people are having the "you's a bitch and so is your man" argument.

Where is the red, Jeffery? I stopped for the tattoo, but Jeffery is swerving Alan's advances left and right. I know they will be an item from the trailer, but even though the whole purpose of this adventure is for me to read the visuals, like . . . read the visuals, Alan, and stop touching him.

I hate this club! Its lighting makes me trust no one! I trust Way. I do. I DO! (I don't trust him)

Is the interior of Babe's car blue?!

That one green-ish car among red and blue cars is upsetting me on a personal level, so I renaming it light blue. Also, Babe, why do you play with toy cars when upset?

What in the American Horror Story: Cult is happening here?

Wait, this is X-Men?! Did he kill their parents so he could get a tiny army of kids with special abilities?! HOMIE, NO! This is why Babe plays with cars. YOU STOLE HIS CHILDHOOD! You know what I always say? "KILL YOUR SHITTY FATHER KIDNAPPER!"

There was another guy talking to Alan, but I don't know him, and he was safe in blue. I know this is Pete and he will be with Way (the trailer and opening credits told me). He has no color, but I appreciate the visual.

I hate this show. Is that blue on that red driver? Is that black? Are you actually good, Kim (I hope that's your name)? *trust the visuals* You're good, Kim. *five minutes later* Why are you talking to Big Red?!

The product placement is not slutty and that is unacceptable, but Way always being buddy buddy with these two is even more unacceptable. Way, put some blue on you body, RIGHT NOW!

Do you see that teeny tiny slip of red? I don't trust you, Charles!

Babe even plays a blue car in his video game when he is upset!

I didn't fully understand that video Way showed Babe, but I do see the blue shirt underneath, Charles, yet this is behavior is SUS AS FUCK! Why do none of these guy get the hint when people don't want to be touched?!

Standing in front of a red car, Charles? . . . THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE, BARBARA!

Charles had been the light to Babe's dark the first two episodes, and suddenly he leaves bed and becomes dark while Babe is blue. I really hate Charles off of nothing but vibes and colors, and I would put a tracker on his ass yesterday.

Thank, God! Barbara got smart and followed his ass just to see him hug Jeffery who magically isn't opposed to touch now. YOU FAKE BLUE BOY!

Enemy #1. You are in my burn book. I told my mom about you, so that means the hate is permanent.

Did I misjudge them? No! Eff all these fakers.

Barbara is losing his shit over a man!

Yet still has him up in house next week. PENDEJO! He was standing next to a red car, Barbara. Do not fall for this liar's bullshit.

I really hope Babe pulls a Carrie and burns this whole place down because at this current moment, I only trust Alan and Pete (because he is pretty). Eff the Red Team versus the Blue Team plot. I'm Team Trust No One.

Order of how much I don't trust these hoes:

Charlie

Charles, but this time by his government name

Those two vloggers or whatever they do

Jeffrey

Way (my man, what happened?!)

#I hate Charles #pit babe #pit babe the series #the colors mean things #and they will guide me the whole way through #color coded boys in love #except one is faking it #and his name is CHARLES!

57 notes · View notes

murfpersonalblog · 2 months

Text

IWTV Trailer (me losing my freaking marbles - YOLO) Pt1

I'm just going frame by frame thru AMC'S BEAUTIFUL new IWTV trailer. But I had to split this into 2 parts cuz Tumblr won't let me post 30+ pics.

We've already seen Lestat's Theatre portrait on fire (burn, bish!) but the TRANSITION they made here is DISGUSTING--they know what they're doing!

Lou goes from thinking about setting the Theatre on fire (nervously/uncomfortably rubbing his chin, my poor baby), to another scene of him chainsmoking and staring sadly off into the void. I'm assuming it's the 1970s interview, cuz we see Afro!Lou in the same shirt when he effs up BB!Daniel a few minutes later.

AND they said Louis's "stronger, and harder, too," during ANOTHER closeup of Louis chainsmoking. Pyromaniac du Lac LIVES.

Then we get that INTERESTING exchange with Loumand about Oldmaniel:

Armand does NOT like this interview, no ma'am! What are you tryna hide?! 🧐

The fandom legit already MADE THIS JOKE too! XD

The parallels with Loumand enjoying watching movies together (NO CLAUDIA 👀)--and Loustat enjoying opera & movies together.

Loumand as a happy old married couple--I mean it, Rolin: what TF happened between the 1970s interview, the year 2000, and 2022, to make Louis' mental state get SO DANG BAD!?

Armand seems to be implying that 1970s SanFran wasn't where he failed Louis, but 1940s Paris when he burns the Theatre--but I'm seriously wondering if something else went down, cuz LOOK AT MY BABY. BLOOD TEARS. I cannot.

This hollow, fake smile Claudia gives when Loumand walks into the room; wearing makeup & an adult hairstyle tryna look grown--I wonder if this is the same night she joins the Theatre?

Lou & Claudia--he just gives her The Eyebrows, not saying anything (but Armand looks WAY too smug ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)); and we know Armand AND Claudia can EASILY read his mind way better than he can read either of theirs.

Louis calls her "a spark in the dark," right before they cut to the bombs falling all over WWII Europe with flames everywhere--including all over her face--foreshadowing her ashes to ashes, dust to dust. ("Rigged to burn," Louis said in S01E03.)

Did they get hit by bombs, or fall into mine fields?! Jfc. (OR maybe they were sleeping underground, in the earth, and woke up in a battlefield--GOD.) And this must be the same scene where Lou eats the heart--we see Claud throwing limbs around--are they scavenging bombed up corpses?

And the flame in the photographs Louis takes, which she's been tearing down--figuratively in the other teaser, and literally here.

Claudia finna GO OFF! (I HAD to make this one a gif, to see her wrath in MOTION 🤌)

EAT that racist French White, Claudia, PLEASE. Colonizer Capital--Paris SUCKS!

LOUIS DE POINTE DU LAC, ladies and gentlemen. U_U

You're one of a kind, sweetie--that's why the whole Theatre was tripping, cuz Lestat's "coven" in NOLA didn't look ANYTHING like how all other vampire covens worked. Lestat & Louis & Claudia were a FAMILY. They lived like humans--or as close to human as possible. Plus they were painfully weak, with none of the Dark Gifts. They weren't living like monsters--at least not on the surface....

In the other teaser I thought this dirty heifer who attacked Louis was a revenant, but if she's in the Theatre then this must be Alessandra or Eleni (which means a Rhoshamandes name drop!? 👀💀)? Please random dude please be Benedict. 🙏 I need more TVC cameos!

I'm wondering if this was part of a performance when Madeleine & Claudia were part of the Theatre, not during the Trial? OR this is AMC's recreation of the film version with the naked lady--"so we can eat people."

Armand finna GO OFF! But WHERE TF are his FANGS!? That's my ONE major gripe with this show--I'm so sick of seeing these stupid acrylics everywhere but no FANGS.

Then the trailer immediately tells me to STFU, LOL. XD

Lelio Rising. Lelio Falling. (Ooooo--the Tower Scene should be SPICY)

Then they use the "script" line to transition to The Trial, when Armand forced Lestat to be scripted! 😭 DIABOLICAL! And I LOVE this frame--it's giving me Oppenheimer when he was walking through the stands as everyone applauded him for dropping the bomb & he was PTSDing. (I had to make a separate post just for this brainworm.)

So Dan's finished the interview and this is his editor. (OR, even spicier, this dude's from the Talamasca, and Daniel's broken the NDA & fled the penthouse?) But chile, ain't nobody scared of LDPDL. 🙄 Daniel should be well aware by now that Louis snapped in the 1970s, sure, but he's not the REAL threat in that house, Mr. Mediocre Star to a 500 Year Old Vampire. Unless they're talking about LESTAT? 👀💀 WHERE TFC IS HE IN 2022?!

What in CHRIST'S NAME is coming out of his effing NECK? 😱 It was SQUEALING, like a KOCHON.

Louis slinging blood at the Sea of Galilee Armand stole for him, LOLOLOL.

Louis effing Daniel up--"you were disrespectful!" I wonder if BB!Dan crying was when Armand was busy stalking him when he was drunk AF & dying of alcohol poisoning.

I LOVE THIS. Louis is the center of it all--"It's you and me. Me, and you." 😭💔 Said over and over--Louis and Lestat, Claudia, Armand, and Daniel (and even Santiago U_U).

#interview with the vampire #louis de pointe du lac #pyromaniac du lac #louis de pointe du black #justice for claudia #loustat #loumand #must see tv #SCREAMING #screaming crying throwing up #the hype is real

27 notes · View notes

hwaightme · 1 year

Text

Your fan, San (part 2)

(part 1) (your fan ml)

💬 pairing: san x interpreter!reader 💬 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining, drama 💬 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if san was stanning you 💬 wordcount: 4.5k 💬 warnings/tags: language, conflict, two shy dorks, homie sabotage?, misunderstandings, love above all, touring, busy life, reader is a pro linguist, we stan simpteez, unedited oop- 💬 taglist: @acciocriativity, @doom-fics, @layzfeelit @jcngh0-hq @black--awsum @honey-lemon-goose @i-luvsang @jackinmyarea , @izuijin @justhere4kpop 💬 a/n: Hello there <3 here is PART 2 of YOUR FAN SAN!! Hopeless romantic? Check. Chaotic? Check... and the FINALE is coming soon??? ;~; P.S. that uni life do be getting wild so apologies if I'll be haphazardly uploading or if trains of thought are derailed~

'The Beauty of Falling in Love - a collection of short stories, poems and musings'

That was the title of the book you had to translate. And if you were not a (fully) sappy and sentimental mess before, you sure as hell were now. Because each little chapter, be it an anonymous recollection of favourite moments with a loved one, or a vignette dedicated to someone special, was some of the most heartwarming work you have ever read.

Each piece sounded so personal, so real, that you found yourself spending more time than usual on this commission. You had made an agreement with the client that they would be sending chapters out one by one, and prior to receiving one, you would send back a completed translation.

It was an easy enough arrangement, and was not too taxing when it came to your personal time. You could ruin your sleep schedule to your heart's content by watching dramas that you had missed whilst on tour, could make late night trips to the convenience store because you did not want to be caught in the businessperson rush, could catch up with people who you had inadvertently ghosted because of work and inability to find words when you wanted to.

Outside of your preferred mode of relaxation, you kept in touch with some of the members of ATEEZ, thanks to a group chat that San had created and 'simply had to add you' - at least that was how he had advertised it. The group chat consisted of him, you, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang, who to you seemed like a random pick, since you did not interact with neither Yunho nor Yeosang as much.

But over a very short period of time this had changed for the better, and you had grown very comfortable, attached even, to the chaotic quartet. If anything this it was a top up vaccine for being able to keep up with the ATEEZ chaos - otherwise you would be familiarising yourself with it again for tour, as if it was the first day of work.

Little did you know, you were talking with the Operation ring leaders + Yeosang who was in it for the gossip, and to control the fire... in the way he wished. It was more or less a regular conversation, aside from San occasionally panicking and running up to one of the guys for advice.

"Yeo why did you write 'AMOGUS'?"

"Don't question me. This is art- ah see, Y/N sent the prayer hands emoji, she agrees." Yeosang responded, pointing at his phone screen.

"I feel like you guys are six parallel universes ahead of me and I don't like it."

"Make that ten, you boomer."

"This is an ancient meme you are quoting Yeo~" Wooyoung joined in, trying to poke fun at his friend.

"Say that again, the king of social boomers? Are you salty that I did not put hyung after AMOGUS because it's old?"

"What even is this chat-" Mingi, who was observing from his position lying across three dining chairs, threw the question out into the air.

"It is us trying to force San to dm Y/N by pushing them together like two dolls." Wooyoung, slightly irritated, explained.

"Man, you really are done." Mingi responded, chuckling

"I don't know, am I? San is breaking up with me so I am going through all stages of grief."

"Double u tee eff?" San raised an eyebrow and stared at Wooyoung, phone loose in his hands.

"How far along is she?"

"She isn't pregnant dude."

"Ugh you know what I mean."

"Like... a third of the way?"

"Damn you guys are slow as shit. We planned for this to take how long? You even have the confession already written up for the last chapter, this is kind of ridiculous. You know what, hold up."

Wooyoung tackled San, and thanks to the surprise nature of the attack, got the perfect opportunity to grab his friend's phone. After securing 'the bag', Wooyoung strode off to the other side of the room, clicking away, while San attempted to stand up, shouting.

Yunho seemed to have caught onto what the other was about to do, as he launched himself at the shorter man sat on the sofa and splayed himself right over like a blanket.

"No hard feelings bro this is necessary."

As San way trying to battle his way out, but was further restrained by Yeosang who had finally stopped taking photos, Wooyoung giggled deviously and locked the phone again, sauntering back with a devilish grin and handing it to San.

"It is done. You can thank me later."

"What did you do?"

"Something that you should have done like... a year ago."

"DID YOU TEXT HER?"

"Yeah. And don't worry, nothing Woo-style, you grilled me enough times for me to remember her preferences. Plus, I know how to text like you."

"And when did that come in handy?"

"Uh... I have to go water my fish BYEEE~" Wooyoung quickly departed from the living room sprinting back to the dorm, while San remained in shock, swiping at the screen to reveal the message that his friend had sent on his behalf.

Damn. It really was just like him.

The text came to you as a surprise. Though you have had some conversations over private message before, most of them had been in some way work related. Not San messaging you out of the blue to ask how you were and that you should catch up.

With the group chat all but abandoned, you happily launched into texting San. There was never any pressure for a phone call, which you greatly appreciated, and there was no specific guidelines that either of you enforced - without a care you double, triple, quadruple texted, abruptly disappeared only to reappear with a link or a photo... main things was that together, you kept your conversation alive and thriving.

You would have never, not in a million years, imagined yourself getting this close to San, or anyone with a celebrity status for that matter. Simply because you felt like they would need and deserve more than you could offer socially. You were all about human connection and uniting minds, but when it came to your own personal preferences, you would much rather write out your thoughts in astonishing detail and hit send, than say the same things out loud and to somebody in person.

And yet, contrary to your assumptions and what you could only say had been prejudice on your part, San was supportive of you and of your choices, saying he could 'imagine your voice well enough anyways'. He steered clear of pushing you to communicate in a style that was not yours; though you did enjoy hearing his voice, and would be lying if you said he was not a charmer, you could not bring yourself to reciprocate that approach. It was too overwhelming to do during the time that you had allocated for yourself as your regenerative state. And San made your heart melt by showing that he got that, without you having to tear yourself apart and explain.

To him it had been fairly easy to figure out that you were a text over call kind of person, and was something that he had advertised to the Operation Love Language squad. Given your notes app being packed, post it notes sometimes threatening to pour out of your bag, and him spotting you willingly sitting far away from any groups so you could watch something, earphones in, all pointed to that conclusion. And San found that he liked it more than he would have guessed.

Each text was like a memory, and an expression not only of something that they wanted to blurt out, but more often than not of a considered, weighed out opinion, even if it was onomatopoeia or a string of emojis. He would have never been able to get to know you like he did over text, and get so close to you that you were now happily discussing with him your own worries, and passions, and dreams, not just responding to his stream of musings and questions.

It was through one of these extensive texting sessions that you had revealed to San your endeavors as a freelance translator, and gushed about the commission you were working on.

This made San's thumbs freeze midway through typing. Carried away and impatient, he had tried to strike on all fronts, and now that he was in continuous communication with you, he regretted it. Deeply. Except he did not yet know just how risky the decision to parade as someone he was not could be.

After the first time you had mentioned your side work, he had begun to get progressively more quiet. Bit by bit. Until his responses to you turned almost into a conversation with a wall. You were unable to figure out just what had gotten into San, what had changed?

You turned to the work you were meant to translate as a distraction, expecting that the client would have shared the new chapter with you already... but no such thing.

Instead, there was an order cancellation, and a short apology.

What did you do wrong?

What happened?

Was there something that had not been quite right?

You looked over your already completed translations - you were searching for anything to suggest a reason for cancellation. The words appeared blurry, fading into one big mush. It was all terrible... wasn't it?

Who were you kidding you were probably rusty after not working with fiction for so long, and for not focusing hard enough. You had stopped paying attention to the craft. Who even were you? And interpreter, a translator, or a fraud?

You looked at the cancellation email again, knowing full well that it was pointless to try and reach the customer - they might have blocked you for all you knew. This hurt. This really hurt.

You saw that San had responded to your messages, again in a weirdly cheery tone, asking you how you are and what you have been up to? San would understand... right? San would listen to you...?

So you did something that you yourself did not expect, and pressed on the call button. He picked up on the first ring.

He sounded nervous, and almost tearful as you bared all and talked him through what had just happened. You needed him. He was the only one who had understood your language.

When you told him that you were probably over reacting and just humiliating yourself by being 'so deep in sad mode' over a whole lot of nothing, he instantly was there to catch you and call you out. He emphasised the importance of your work, of the beautiful job you had done so far... but then halted, unsure of how to proceed.

This left you confused. He then picked his words in a strangely careful manner, and almost beginning to side with the customer, saying how maybe it was for the better, and that now at least you could relax and find another project...

"San. This is really unlike you. What is up with that personality switch?"

"What do you mean Y/N? It's nothing-"

"I have an ear for speech, San, if there is anyone who could be a bullshit filter, it is me."

Silence.

More silence.

You were about to call out to him again, when you hear a muffled, barely there whisper:

"I'm sorry..."

You were sent reeling. What did he mean? Why was he sorry?

"I... it was me. Y/N. I am sorry. I really did not mean it to turn out that way I-"

"Okay first of all, why?"

"I..."

"Second of all, whilst I am grateful for your support and stuff, it does make me uncomfortable."

"I'm-"

"Thirdly, actually you know what focus on point number one."

When you did not hear an answer, you tried again: "Hello? I am waiting."

"I like you."

"...What?" you were left in shock.

You had suppressed your feelings for San in the deepest caverns of your soul out of the terror that it was bound to be unrequited, but here you were. Listening to that same man who had supported you from the beginning of your career to now (and exposing yet another ridiculous attempt at that), who had read your quirks and style and knew you better than most. Listening to him confess.

"I... how do I say this... it has been a while. A long while. I have been trying to approach you but... I was either too shy for it, or the attempts were just ridiculous. So we- so I came up with this idea, to try and tell you... this book right. The Beauty of Falling in Love. It is... it spoke to me. And I had planned to give it to you piece by piece until I could then reveal myself to you... but then we started talking outside of that and then I panicked and- yeah, I am... I am just so sorry, this is confusing as hell."

"Wait... wait wait... this is... so were you paying me to get me to like you? Was that what you were doing?"

"GOSH! NO! NO, DON'T MISUNDERSTAND!"

"Look. As much as I do like bringing joy to people through my work, this crosses a line. And it's not the fact that you ordered something from me - hell, support the artist right? It's the fact that you decided to be somebody else. You decided to conceal yourself to talk to me. Like you did not trust me. Even though you want me to like you.

I'll be returning the money to you shortly. M-kay? And... talk on stage, I guess."

Before San could respond, you ended the call sharply. No more phone calls. They were cursed, apparently.

With these thoughts, and a heavy heart, you departed for Japan.

---

"Maybe... just maybe if you had seen it through and not abandoned ship... your ship could have sailed?"

"Yunho just because it's your idea does not mean is good!" San retorted, having recounted the story to the members, gone into full crisis mode.

"Hello!? You agreed? I am just generating ideas here."

"I think we all blew this out of proportion and did not consider risks... at all." Mingi interjected, massaging his temples.

"You guys, I have an idea-" Wooyoung began, but was quickly cut off by San, who was already half way out of the door.

"You know what? I am done with the ideas. I will just do what I think is right."

---

You were conflicted. In a way, you had gotten what you wanted. A confession from your crush that you had been quietly keeping in the shadows. But at the same time, your anxiety spiked. Were you that unapproachable that San had to have twisted everything to get to you? Was your work more entertaining than you could ever be?

With these thoughts, and a heavy heart, you departed for Japan.

If your presence was not explicitly required at the venue, you would not go. Once an event ended, you would leave. If anything, you were acting just like any employee would.

You were trying to bury the conflicting feelings that you were experiencing. To an extent, you felt disrespected. Like you had been mistreated via the means of 'i am using your translation services so you should love me'. And it was one unpleasant thought.

So, you stuck to what you knew and were more or less confident in. Words that were not yours. ideas that were not yours. Feelings that were not yours.

In a matter of an hour after the first small event, however, you could not sulk in your room how you wanted, thanks to a random slip of paper being shoved under your door. You ran across the room and slammed it open in an attempt to catch the culprit, but there was no one in sight.

You gingerly picked up the papers, and read. It was unmistakable. It was the next chapter of the book, with an interesting translation on another sheet of paper, and an additional note.

"I am sorry, and I can only hope that you will read this and let me fight. <3 San"

As much as you were ready to forgive him then and there, you decided that you wanted to see just how far he was going to go.

The next morning - another letter had arrived. The next chapter, a translation, and another note.

During filming for a morning show, San had shot you numerous glances in an attempt to see whether you were even reading what he had been Amazon Priming to your room, but with a cheeky smile dancing on your lips, you let your fun continue.

Another package.

And another.

And another. Until, finally, the last chapter had arrived. At least that was what you thought right up until the evening of the same day. You had assumed that it was going to now be your turn to act, or at least to start talking again, but a loud knock jolted you out of your thoughts.

And another.

And another knock on the door. This man was an unstoppable force.

"I... I translated the last one. Well, tried to."

"But there were only eleven stories-"

"Nope, twelve. Here."

You saw a two pieces of paper appear from under the door, just like before. Except instead of the Korean page being a scan from the book, it was evidently a document that either San... or somebody else, had typed up, and then managed to print.

To be respectful, you attempted to read the Japanese, but soon enough gave up since the kanji somehow managed to look cursive, and instead took the Korean text in your hands.

You took a seat with your back against the door and knees almost flush against your chest, and began to read, your heart rate picking up pace as soon as you saw "Dear Y/N,".

It began as a little story. A re-telling of how both of you had met, and how you had come to own a little space in his heart, eventually leading to him simply giving it to you.

"Did you know that you look so beautiful in those moments when you don't think anyone is watching? The more I think about it, the more I feel like it has been what had drawn me in. How you typed and typed on your phone. If time allowed, I liked to try guessing whether you were going to switch the keyboard at some point or not. How you were and are in your element. And of course, how you are, simply, you."

He recalled the moments that you two had shared. The levels of pride and admiration he felt when he saw you being approached and congratulated by the fans, and when he could take a moment to just enjoy what you did.

San moved to explaining 'the plan' to you, and though you were ready to scold him then and there (especially since there was the door between you that made confrontation easier), you could not help but admit that the general notion (aside from making affection and crushing on someone a monetary exchange - better not put feels on Etsy) was heartwarming.

As it turned out, both of you were shy dorks who could not act on feelings. Admittedly, one of you was a LOUD shy dork and the other a 'language is life but still can't read between the lines' shy dork, but at least you made it here.

San was a nervous wreck, barely stopping himself from either pacing up and down the corridor or going into a meltdown and lying face down on the carpet. He already looked suspicious enough as is, just standing by a random hotel number like a vampire who had been refused entry.

Or perhaps more accurately, like a cat who had been shut out of the house and was now desperately trying to claw its way back in.

But that stress was quickly washed away when your form suddenly appeared before him, peeking out, drowning in an oversized hoodie. The papers were still clenched in your hand as you motioned for San to come in.

You waited until he was right in the middle of the room before closing the door. Part of you was afraid that he was going to nope out at any moment. You needed the reassurance. The confidence that was normally there when you were working. But every fiber of your being was screaming in protest, wanting simply to hide.

You observed him. He looked like he was barely breathing.

"I... really I am... so sorry... again... I know that it was so fooli-"

"私でもあなたのことが好きだ..." (I like you too)

"eXCUSEME?!"

"All this translating and you still can't process?" you joked, but began to pull on the drawstrings of your hoodie in an attempt to make your face disappear.

"ohHH NoONOOO I just want to hear you say it in every language that you know!!!" San exclaimed and in a matter of seconds was inches away, peeking at what was not yet concealed by the fluffy cotton.

As he leaned closer and closer, flustering you (and himself) in the process and took both of your hands in his, in the last leap of bravery you whispered:

"Well that, you'll have to earn, San. And I don't take traditional currency."

"You will never let that go."

"Never ever, Choi San, it's a core memory now."

"Well hey at least it means you are not letting go of me~"

"Oh the way you twist words..."

"Like you twist me around your finger, not to give you an ego trip or anything..."

"It's 'wrap'. The correct word is 'wrap' around a finger."

"Okay you know what how about I translate it to body language?" he puckered his lips, making you giggle.

"As long as I don't need to correct grammatical errors."

"Now now I'd say I'm fluent."

The habit of sliding notes under your door or passing them to you did not stop - it only got stronger and became an 'any location', Mission Impossible note transfer agreement.

It had become something of a game, muddling languages together and writing near-nonsense just to sit there almost crying, trying not to laugh.

Soon enough, the game spread to Wooyoung, who would on occasion intercept the messages and add in his own flair, and soon enough to a curious Yunho and Mingi, who then turned it into impromptu paper plane throwing tournaments.

Really, the only reason why Hongjoong did not intercept was because you managed to at least keep the messages under strict PG rating and had good aim - with a saving swoop you had managed to return one such airmail right into San's lap during a fan sign, leading ATINY to give you an additional "aimbot" title.

It did not matter what the schedule was, you left each other encouraging notes (and without the other knowing, stored them away in your luggage).

"Good luck being the first one to get hair and makeup done..."

"Good luck with the translation deal on the book <3" (after an entire evening of a pouting and pleading San, you had reached out to the editors of the romance book you had translated for him, and now were in very promising negotiations)

You raced ahead, in time with each other, creating your own language.

The extended time ATEEZ had spent in Japan was coming to an end, and in the blink of an eye, it was the final concert. The "closing remarks", the epilogue.

You were prepared to interpret in full, as always. One member down. Another... finally, it was only San left. The other members were looking at him expectantly, while some sent glances in your approximate direction.

You took Hongjoong's tranquility and him nudging San in the shoulder as a sign that no, you will not have to pretend he said something different and double speak it - whatever he was about to do was, apparently, captain certified.

At that moment, San pulled out a note from a pocket that you had no idea even existed. The action seemed to have the same effect on ATINY as they "oooohed" - Yunho fake whispered into the microphone that San was now a part-time magician, so these things were the norm.

You had your microphone at the ready. With bated breath, you waited for San to begin. And that, he did.

In Japanese.

Grammatically correct, coherent and well-delivered Japanese.

Even though some of the phrases were obviously not his style and word selection, leading you to imagine him poring over this text like he was writing the declaration of independence with the boys, it was him. It was his feeling. It was his message.

Your arm fell to your side with a thud, and you were grateful that your microphone had been turned off for the time being. You caught yourself gaping, and had to forcibly compose yourself to reveal only a soft smile, as you took the scene in.

San was not exactly trying to hide that he was paying special attention to a specific part of the arena, with his body turned almost completely in your direction and only a few glances off to the sides and at the note.

"...and I hope that we will always be together, as one, and share this world. sometimes there may be struggle, there may be darkness, but WE," he makes a grand gesture with his hand, as if highlighting the area in front of him, but really it was just to, again, symbolise that certain someone at the forefront of his mind, "will last, and be the light."

The crowd roared, and you could allow yourself to internally combust as you watched ATEEZ wave, bow and bid their farewells.

Some things did not need a translation to be understood, and some things were not up for interpretation.

Like how San sprinted to you as soon as he was out of public sight. How he swept you off your feet both literally and metaphorically.

How Jongho muttered 'get a room', but still smiled at both of you when he passed by.

How, upon your return to South Korea, he had practically made it his mission to dote on you, and any moment he got, show that you were together.

Matching plushies? Check.

Basically exposing you both on Late Night Dive (though there was not really anything to expose because the entire ordeal was almost a live streamed ATEEZ drama)? Check.

Happily chatting away with ATINY about love and about finding it, sending loving stares your way? Check.

This was the love language you shared. No hiding, no scheming. Two native speakers, who found each other in translation.

291 notes · View notes

bookishfeylin · 1 year

Note

I posted in someone else’s ask box about how I think maybe in the original SJM did plan Feysand mates, but have Feylin endgame.

In the first book, she sets up a theme for the series. Love, specifically human love, can be equal to or greater than immortal love.

We have a Tamlin telling Feyre that his mother overlooked the abused he endured under his father and siblings because she was blinded by the bond. We have Amarantha telling Tamlin that human love is fickle. We have Feyre realizing that Nesta does love her as she loves her sister, she’s just doesn’t express it often or well and they make up. We have Papa Archeron being an example of that fickle love when Feyre returns and he immediately wants to marry her off. The answer to the riddle was love. Feyre went back for love. Feyre’s “human heart.”

And then at the end we have Rhysand realizing him and Feyre are mates. Ok. Cool.

Is it possible with that theme she set up that she had a full circle ending planned? Feyre with her human heart, sees the monstrosity Rhysand is and chooses Tamlin? The high lord she stays with? An eff you to Amarantha?

I just don’t see why she would set that whole theme up if it wasn’t going to have an impact in later books. And I feel that because she doesn’t uphold this theme in her later books, that’s why the series falls apart. Because it was a theme that would have played a part in Nesta and Elain’s romances as well (since we know Nesta was originally supposed to be with Lucien, and per SJM standard, Elain would’ve also ended up with a fae), we can look directly to Nesta’s book to see just how damaging the deviation was.

I believe @goforth-ladymidnight originally proposed something similar to this and the idea has never let me go (go follow her she's so wholesome). Yes, this analysis is everything because it would make perfect since with theme established in book 1. I wrote that ACOMAF is a bad sequel for this very reason right here--because it ignores that the main tension of book one, and something that appeared to be set up as a major theme, was the conflict between fae love and human love and which was more genuine. Amarantha argued that humans cannot love like faeries can--that their love can never reach the depth of love and loyalty that fae feel for each other. But it's also noted through the example of Tamlin's parents that the deepest expression of faerie love in Prythian's society--a mating bond--doesn't mean the pair are actually a good match, and it allows a couple to overlook the heinous actions the other commits, so Amarantha's reasoning about faerie love being superior was inherently flawed from the get-go. Feyre being mated to Rhysand but choosing Tamlin would prove Amarantha wrong in every possible way for reasons you've already so eloquently explained. It would finally make the sequels thematically congruent with ACOTAR 1, and would honestly be an incredibly satifying refutiation of the dark-haired-bad-boy trope.

I just don’t see why she would set that whole theme up if it wasn’t going to have an impact in later books.

Because ACOTAR originally had a different set of sequels all written in 2009, which were scrapped when Sarah chose to write ACOMAF and ACOWAR in 2014. We'll never know what the original plot was, but thematically this makes sense for ACOTAR's sequels, and I can't help but wonder if this was the route Sarah originally took with them.

#ask #anon #acotar #feylin #feyre x tamlin #tamlin x feyre #feyre archeron #tamlin

101 notes · View notes

ineffable-hyperfixation · 4 months

Text

So we're all pretty much of the agreement that the Metatron purposefully split up Aziraphale and Crowley yeah?

Ok but like....why now?

"Oh he's ready to start the next Armageddon and wants them separated!" yeah ok maybe but here's my new thought

I think it's Gabriel's (unintentional) fault

"Out of his mouth go burning flames" even without his memories Gabriel knew that Aziraphale would be a safe angel to run to to hide/help him, and the Met can't have that

He has no real way to punish them anymore (post I didn't wanna hijack lol) and he doesn't need renegade angels:

A) thinking it's ok to do what they want (which honestly none of the others know Aziraphale's story nor did they see him not burn, except for Gabriel, Sandalphon, Uriel and possibly Michael. But it's still a risk) nor

B) thinking they have a convenient hiding spot/help

He needs Aziraphale in heaven. He needs to show them, see? He's not safe! He's the new Supreme Archangel, he won't help you.

(And depending on how you interpret the final 15, maybe he needed Crowley upset enough to not be of any help either, and to not stage a rescue. Maybe he was hoping offering to let Crowley come along would force Aziraphale to royally eff up.....but I'm also guessing he doesn't know how 6000 yr old relationships work 😉)

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #gomens #aziracrow #aziraphale and crowley #good omens meta #ih originals

35 notes · View notes

abybweisse · 6 months

Text

Ch206, Grieving

@aretemisapollo commented on the cover and title art post for ch206, asking if "Grieving" refers to the loss of Snake's life or to Snake learning the truth about the circus troupe he calls family.

It could refer to either, both, or those two plus other losses.

There are multiple potential losses here, as well as several stages to grieving. This site gives some good basic information about types of loss, types of grief, stages of grief, and suggestions if you need help dealing with grief.

Forgive me, if I've missed a potential example here. However, anyone reading this should feel free to tell me about those missing potentials.

Snake learning the truth about the other circus members' deaths and asking Finny whether it's true that he killed Jumbo (if it's even true they are all dead): This is the loss of loved ones who have died. Questioning is part of the denial phase. He's actually previously been in the anger stage of grieving over this loss, back when he figures that "Smile" and "Black" caused them to go missing, so he goes to Phantomhive Manor to kill "Smile", our earl. But our earl lies to him, saying he doesn't know where his missing circus family is and that he's still looking for them. This lie has inhibited Snake from grieving that loss.

Snake trying to process the truth that his circus family would kidnap and harm children and asking Doll to confirm: He's clearly still in denial here, too, even as Doll lunges forward to attack a child. This is interesting, because it suggests he's been stuck in this phase for a while now, since our earl told him several months ago that the other first string circus members had been kidnapping children. That's why our earl is supposedly still looking for them, even though Snake probably notices there haven't been any active searches. All those months, he's probably been in inhibited or delayed grief over this harsh truth. After our earl lies about the troupe's whereabouts, he offers Snake a job (and a new family), so Snake has been kept too busy -- working and getting to know these new people -- to really process what his new master says about his loved ones' crimes.

Since he's dealing with more than one loss, Snake has cumulative grief.

Doll and the other kids, seeing that Snake's neck has been cut so deeply: This is anticipatory grief. Snake isn't dead (yet), but his death is likely. Doll is clearly shocked, which is often included in the denial stage, though some sources list it separately, as the very first stage. We have to assume the others are in initial shock, as well. Very quickly, this could turn to a bargaining phase, where Doll or the others beg or even pray for help to save his life. It could also turn into anger; not only could the others hate Doll more than they probably do already, but Doll could also hate herself for what she's done.

Snake, Finny, and the top students might all be grieving the possible failure to save not just themselves but also the other students/orphans. This is somewhat anticipatory. It's also collective. This might fall under the depression stage, since they are fearful and sad. Just remember that the stages don't always have to be in order, and sometimes people leave a stage but return to it later. These top students have been worried about this before Finny and Snake even arrived at the orphanage.

Doll's continued grief over the loss of her circus family has her stuck in anger, and we could say hers is complicated and/or traumatic grief, since it's been so prolonged... partly by the cinematic records Undertaker used for her episodes. This forces her to remain angry and seek revenge.

What other examples of grief are there in this situation? Perhaps Susan worried (anticipatory grief, anger phase) that she won't be able to collect more paychecks? Eff her. She's horrid. Same goes for the head matron.

Anyway, that's all I can think of right now.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #ch206 #grief #stages of grief #types of grief #discussion #observation #nov 17 2023 #long post #long reads

34 notes · View notes

inevitably-ineffable-husbands · 10 months

Note

Hey Steph,

Ive been thinking about this and I need your opinion. (Reaaally enjoyed the liveblog btw <3) I was thinking what to tell Aziraphale at the end why he shouldn't go to heaven and basically: a) as the main Archangel, he'd totally put himself in harms way (they don't have a great track record of dealing with them...). If a second runaway is seen as an institutional failure, what would they do to avoid a third? Totally erase his existence out of the book of life if he effs up, right? To cover their tracks. And he's right there, surrounded by them. b) It's not like he has any real power. See Gabriel; the minute he vetoed deatroying earth, they wanted to demote him and erase his memory. Without hesitation. So he's just a puppet king, so to say. And c) I don't /trust/ Metatron. Are you really trying to tell me they just randomly decided they like Aziraphale? After the way they talked to him in s1? I don't think so. I think Metatron's just trying to split them up, because together they actually hqve a chance if stopping the 2nd coming. So now they're separated, there's an emotional wedge between them and Aziraphale is right under their thumb. In short, and I'm gonna quote what I said when I watched it, "Nooooo! Aziraphale, nononononono. nonono.... no.."

(Also I feel do bad for Crowley. It looks like he's gonna have to save him again and their relationship already seems kind of emotionally one-sided? Like, Crowley listens to him, supports his passions. But their both trash communicators, I guess. Even when they talk, they don't talk...)

Hey Nonny!!

AHHH I'm so happy you enjoyed my liveblogging!! I hope I wasn't TOO annoying, but I had no livestream to scream at about it so my blog it was, LOL.

OOOF okay I'm kind of still trying to process the end myself, and as someone who REALLY sees herself in Aziraphale, I can totally understand why he did what he did. I was going to expand upon it more in the "season meta" I'm currently writing, but answering this question will also cover a large section I'm writing about the ending, so I'll just answer your questions here and link back to this post, hahaha.

Let's touch upon each of your points, and then I'll give you my general all-around thoughts:

A. I was thinking what to tell Aziraphale at the end why he shouldn't go to heaven and basically: a) as the main Archangel, he'd totally put himself in harm's way (they don't have a great track record of dealing with them...). If a second runaway is seen as an institutional failure, what would they do to avoid a third? Totally erase his existence out of the book of life if he effs up, right? To cover their tracks. And he's right there, surrounded by them.

I had this thought too, Nonny, and that's why I think Azzie is being REALLY naïve in this scene, but ultimately... I think it's all about saving Crowley. I will go more into this in my meta, but the gist of my suspicions hangs on that I believe Aziraphale feels he's responsible for Crowley's Fall, and Aziraphale thinks that if HE'S the one in Gabriel's position, he has the power to do whatever's necessary to bring that joy back to Crowley's life.

We have to remember: Aziraphale DOESN'T KNOW what Crowley knows, but we as an audience do, and because we DO know, it's that choice that makes us scream at the TV in frustration because good-hearted Aziraphale, who wants only what is best for his crush best friend, DOESN'T KNOW that this system is why Gabriel got ousted. Azzie doesn't KNOW about Armageddon 2.0. WE know because Crowley knows, and Crowley never got the chance to tell him (and judging by the dialogue in S2, Azzie ALSO doesn't know about the cruelty that was displayed in their exterminations in S1E6). He doesn't KNOW that Heaven despises him as opposed to "puts up with him". Aziraphale IS a good person and he genuinely believes that him being in charge WILL change things. He doesn't know.

HE DOESN'T KNOW.

I REALLY have a sneaking suspicion that Crowley will actually be the bargaining chip for Heaven to persuade Aziraphale to go along with whatever they want, once Aziraphale realizes he has no power. He showed his hand to the Metatron and the other Angels when he perked up about Crowley coming with him. Crowley might be outwardly and publicly protective of Azzie, but Azzie is INWARDLY and privately protective of Crowley, and tends to try to fix a situation on his own which usually goes pear-shaped for him in the end. So, I don't think it will be Aziraphale removed from the Book of Life to get what they want... It will be the threat of Crowley being exterminated for good.

So yeah, we as an audience know that Aziraphale's walking right into a death slash no-win trap, and despite what happened in E6, I think in S3, we will see Crowley come to rescue him. Big Chekov's gun moment when Aziraphale said in this SAME episode "He does so love coming to rescue me". We're going to get rewarded for a lot of Chekov's guns that are in play this season, methinks.

b) It's not like he has any real power. See Gabriel; the minute he vetoed destroying earth, they wanted to demote him and erase his memory. Without hesitation. So he's just a puppet king, so to say.

Exactly, Nonny. As I mentioned, Aziraphale showed his hand to the Metatron. They WILL use Crowley as leverage, and I think Aziraphale will FINALLY see Heaven for what it truly is: just another side of the same coin that Hell is on. Aziraphale is NOT a stupid person, he just truly does see the good in people (Crowley himself said he's too pure-hearted) but unfortunately that good heart tends to get Azzie into heaps of trouble. Like I said above, Azzie doesn't KNOW what Heaven is capable of, truly, because he hasn't seen it. I think once he sees it, and has his whole view about it shattered, when he realizes that, actually, he CAN'T do whatever he wants to make things better, he will be swayed, finally, to go back to Crowley and tell Heaven to fuck off... and only then will he realize he can't leave because of the stranglehold and leverage Heaven will have on him. The other angels weren't candidates in Metatron's eyes because they can't be manipulated. Azzie CAN because he has something more valuable to him than himself: Crowley's wellbeing. And I think it's here where we will get our trope of Azzie thinking "well, I fucked it up with Us, he's not going to come and save me this time".

BUT HAHAHAH Nope, Crowley will hear about this and come in like the vengeful angel he is. Because let's be real, I think even though he's had his heart shattered, he will always go back to Aziraphale to save him; Aziraphale has pretty much become Crowley's life's purpose.

This, then, actually plays into my theory that Crowley IS a very powerful fallen Angel. Archangels actually rank pretty low on the hierarchy (they're actually BELOW Aziraphale's Principality status, so that's an interesting little detail to file away for later). Since this season was primarily from Azzie's POV, I think next season will be Crowley's, and we'll finally get the answer as to who he really is and why he Fell. Because of his former ranking, I think he will be the catalyst that gets Aziraphale OUT of the situation he's going to be in. I really REALLY am confident that the nuggets of clues they're putting into the show about Crowley's true self will pay off in a big way.

And c) I don't /trust/ Metatron. Are you really trying to tell me they just randomly decided they like Aziraphale? After the way they talked to him in s1? I don't think so. I think Metatron's just trying to split them up, because together they actually have a chance if stopping the 2nd coming. So now they're separated, there's an emotional wedge between them and Aziraphale is right under their thumb.

ABSOLUTELY I don't trust the Metatron either, and as I said above, he is manipulating Aziraphale. He knew 100% Crowley would not join Aziraphale in Heaven. He KNOWS that Aziraphale feels lost being "retired" from Heaven, feels like he's not able to do the Good that he wants to do. Metatron's using Aziraphale's desire to Do Good and Make Things Better for Everyone against him, and it's so deliciously cruel and I can't wait for the payoff.

AND. Okay, a VERY PROMINENT PLOT POINT in the season was just how powerful a TINY, SMALL miracle performed by them BOTH COMBINING THEIR POWER is. It SET OFF ALARMS IN HEAVEN, it was so powerful. Crowley unfortunately, in a "blink and you miss it" line, let it be known nonchalantly that they just were able to hide Gabriel so easily from everyone. Heaven now knows that the two of them together would thwart Armageddon 2.0 if they got involved (which they would to protect Humanity). Now, they know to split them up and puppet "the soft one", the one who they still have a grip on, and they have a better chance of initiating their plan with, as I said, the leverage they have against him.

Because imagine what Crowley and Aziraphale could do together if they let their FULL powers combine. Heaven suspects, and they can't let that happen. I think we will get a payoff to THAT Chekov's gun as well. Or, I hope so anyway. I feel it will be a climax plot point and will possibly also be used to shield themselves from Heaven and Hell for good.

For SURE Nonny, and that's the point Nina and Maggie were trying to make to Crowley. They have been at a standstill since Armageddon in their relationship, and it's because both are terrible at ACTUAL COMMUNICATION with each other. We SEE how much they care about each other. The foundations are there. Both are in a sort of limbo because they really don't know "what's next". Remember: Crowley slept through about half of the 4 years (from the Lockdown minisode) so really they've not seen much of each other since Armageddon.

That said, I think their relationship only seems emotionally one-sided, because Crowley is REALLY BAD at hiding his REALLY BIG FEELINGS™ to the point that it's noticeable to LITERALLY everyone else EXCEPT the one person that matters. I think I saw a post describe it best: Aziraphale fell FIRST, but Crowley fell HARDER, which is so true. This doesn't mean that Aziraphale loves Crowley less, it's just that Aziraphale has a lot of trauma and hangups that he won't be able to get over until he's finally free of Heaven's claws; he needs to get over the hump that has him believing that he is undeserving of Crowley's affections because they are angel-and-demon. Crowley, on the other hand, has Big Feelings that evolved into endless surface-level pining.

Crowley's love language is acts of service, so it's WAY more prominent in the series and easier to spot. I think Aziraphale's love language is quality time, but in S2 we see it develop more into physical touch as well, which must be driving Crowley INSANE with lust for him. Seriously, on rewatch, I could NOT get over HOW MUCH Azzie actually touches or reaches for Crowley. Even during the Kiss, he can't help but rub his hands along Crowley's shoulders and back. Aziraphale, unfortunately, is one of those people (like me *cough*) that tend to realize Big Things™ Too Late™, and then think it's now Fucked Up Forever, so back into the bottle those Big Feelings™ go. I GENUINELY believe that Aziraphale didn't realize Crowley loved him until That Moment™, that everything Crowley did was because of a crush, not because they were best friends who would die for each other. Trust me, it's REALLY confusing for people like Aziraphale to process a mutual love, to the point that it's scary and better off bottled up for fear of losing that person.

The time wasn't right For Them at that moment. Not enough was said and both have been stuck in a limbo since Armageddon. Both have some character building to do. And when A Moment happens again (and I believe in my heart that it will), it WILL be the right time, because they've finally found each other and are both on the same page.

-----------

In conclusion, I feel S3 will be about Them Saving Each Other from Themselves. It will be about them finally talking TO each other. It will be about the big emotional payoff for all the angst we went through in Season 2. It will be big and emotional and I am ALL here for it.

Aziraphale and Crowley will get their happily ever after. But we HAD to have THIS angst and setback for it to work.

Thank you so much for this ask!! It's really helped me gather my thoughts about sections of S2 :) I have a LOT to say and this is just a small snippet of it! <3

#steph replies #good omens #good omens s2 #aziraphale and crowley's relationship arc #go spoilers #spoilers #who is crowley #who is aziraphale #my meta #go meta #s2e6 meta #love languages #the ineffable plan or the great plan #long post #my thoughts

58 notes · View notes