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#But Peach is always the one to shift his perspective
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"Pedro Pascal is making me want to write edgy Mario fic"
Now i am very, very curious of what you would write because you usually write such fluffy Mario fics 👀
Oh you mean from this? 🤭
I do love writing sweet fluffy stuff more than anything else, but I can't deny there has always been at least a little bit of an animal inside that wants to explore some darker concepts 😳
I actually have a couple of ideas that go in a darker direction, but none of them have been fully fleshed out exactly. Sometimes I'll get started writing on something only for my muse to abandon it in favor of something else. So I'll just write down as much of the idea as it comes to me in the hopes that my darting, buzzing fly of a brain will come back to it sometime. It's worked before with stories like with Love Story, What They Don't See (which I have more plans for 👀) or Fresh Air particularly. But what I have published is not even half of the ideas I want to write 😭 So sometime maybe I'll end up having the inspiration (and nerve) to fully commit to a darker storyline, maybe even one with a bad ending.
For the Pedro Pascal (😩💘) thing in particular, a post-apocalyptic Mushroom Kingdom setting would be so fun to explore. I automatically think of the Mushroomy Kingdom stage from Super Smash Bros Brawl where everything was bleak and uninhabitable. Assuming it's a sort of "bad ending" premise where Bowser successfully takes over the Mushroom Kingdom in a disastrous war and Princess Peach was forced into hiding, that kind of leads me to try to fill in the hole of who Mario is in this story and why he doesn't know of her already since he apparently has notoriety himself, albeit at a possibly more illicit angle. Maybe he's a stranger to the Mushroom Kingdom (whether he's from our Earth or not) and the MK was sort of a mysterious/mythical state to the rest of the world before it was taken over by Bowser. How he wound up there might have to do with being stuck or trapped or even an attempt at retiring from the life he had before. (smuggling? bounty hunting? etc)
Maybe Peach is trying to get to the legendary Rainbow Road because it would allow her to access her magic power that has been severed due to Bowser's destruction? So she needs a reliable transport there since she can't navigate the dangerous overworld on her own. If she were able to access her power again, she would easily be able to oust Bowser and return the Mushroom Kingdom to its former lush, peaceful state. And Mario, perhaps a hardened and initially cold person due to rough experiences/loss, is called upon to assist this vulnerable character (just like Mando or Joel 🥺)
I'm so weak for an initial "refusal of the call" trope where the calloused character ends up changing his mind *of his own accord* (even if he pretends its a nuisance) just by virtue of experiencing the warmth and life of the innocent character. It accesses something soft inside him that he maybe believed was dead, or that he was never allowed/able to have before in the first place. In this case, Mario would see Peach's gentle kindness toward her suffering citizens and even towards himself, and it would open up a new world of possibilities in his heart 🤧💖
Along the way, they get assistance from old friends with Toad and Yoshi, and maybe even a bittersweet reunion with Luigi who has holed himself up for survival in an abandoned mansion. And as they get closer and closer to being able to travel down Rainbow Road, it becomes clear that a grand battle with Bowser is inevitable 🔥 And Mario, with newly accessed warmth and love in his heart, doesn't hesitate to march into battle for a Princess who believes in him 🌟
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peachesofteal · 1 month
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Hi! Very personal peach stuff beneath the cut, don't like don't read. (tw for mental health and medication)
If you haven't figured it out by now, I am bipolar. I've talked about it here and there in very broad, non specified terms but haven't really done a post where I say it point blank because I just never felt the need, however, I do feel like we've built a pretty supportive, lovely community here and I wanted to explain where I am mentally and why updates might be lagging (as I've gotten a few messages asking about SM and DD). I also think it's important to you know, talk about it a little bit. When I was younger, I would have really liked to talk to someone who had their head on straight and lived a happy, fulfilled life on medication. I would've liked to talk someone who made it through. Maybe me talking about it will make someone feel less alone, or less scared (because once upon a time, I was fully fucking terrified). Or maybe it won't do anything, who knows.
Also, let me be clear: I am not ashamed of who I am or how my brain works, I just feel this has always been too personal to share on here. I'm starting to shift my perspective on the sharing bit, a little. Obviously.
Anyway, the winter to spring transition can be really rough if your brain is spicy like mine. I know most people love the days getting longer, the sun shining on their face, the sky turning brilliantly blue everyday, winter turns to spring and you might get a little bit of spring fever, a little bit excited, inspired, etc... and I feel that way too, except it makes it way too easy to roll upward into mania. It's like one stumble or fall- and the next thing you know you're falling down the rabbit hole. Mania is not some fun little day trip where you get bangs and stay awake until the sun comes up, it is not the romantic mood swing that some people think it is, it is dangerous and could potentially derail my life.
I am feeling particularly... "disrupted" this spring, and have been working really hard to keep the boat from rocking, so to speak. I am overall a very healthy, well managed person (on medication- that saved my life) but the boat is rocking a little bit, and things may need to be leveled out, or adjusted. It takes time and patience, and I am very grateful to have quality care (my psych is the best) that knows me very well and hears me out.
The good thing is I'm still writing little by little and hope to have updates for ongoing works up soon, and in the mean time, if you need someone to talk to, if you feel like you can relate to this, I'm here. I appreciate your patience and understanding in regard to the delay in updates!
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the-iceni-bitch · 1 year
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He Gives Me Everything and Tenderly…
Pairing: detective!bottom Bucky Barnes x younger!top male reader (Sarge and Officer Beefcake, NLLYL AU)
Words: ~5k
Summary; Bucky is just fine on his own. He really is. He’s used to it. Even after meeting you and thinking about you a whole bunch, he’s still fine. And he does not appreciate his friends’ meddling.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (mentions of male masturbation, salad tossing, protected anal sex, spit as lube and lube as lube, kinda public sex), meet cute, reverse age gap, tall/beefy male reader, bottom!Bucky Barnes, Bucky is grumpy, hints of angst, love at first sight? lots of friendly teasing, m/m relationship, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!
A/N: Welp, this was something I wrote entirely in one sitting and I can’t say I’m mad about it at all. This is my first ever male reader fic and I am both incredibly nervous and very excited to share it with all of you! Big ass thanks to the absolutely amazing @howdoyousleep3 for hyping me up and providing some much appreciated perspectives (remember lube, people!)
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
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Bucky was exhausted. A long ass shift at the end of a long ass week and he was done, looking forward to going home and drinking a cold beer on his couch while he didn’t talk to anyone for a whole 48 hours. God, he hated people.
Except Darcy, and the cute little peach. Even though he wanted to get the fuck out of there he still stopped by the dispatch desk to chat with his girls and let them cheer him up a little.
“Hey Sarge!” He shook his head when Darcy called him that, her stubborn insistence to call him by his military rank after however many years just one of the many things that endeared her to him. “You look like shit, you finally getting out of here? Maybe gonna see someone special tomorrow?”
“The only people he’ll be seeing are Sam Adams and Johnnie Walker, maybe James Bond… hey!” The peach gave him an adorable scowl when he threw a paper clip at her, rubbing her cheek where it had hit her and sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention back to her screen. “Don’t act like I’m not right, I’m there every time you drunk dial Nat while you’re binge watching old movies and lamenting your lack of a love life.”
“Tell your girlfriend to quit putting me on speaker or I’m gonna call her ex to chat from now on.” Bucky grinned when she rolled her eyes at him, bringing his attention back to Darcy and sighing when she was giving him a sympathetic pout. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine. I like being alone.”
“You’re lying, but fine.” Darcy shrugged at him, grinning when there was a sudden commotion at the doors and a mess of recruits came charging through into the hallway after Sam. “Hi Sammy, boys! Ooh, hey there beefcake, you run laps around all those slugs on the course again?”
“Maybe.”
Bucky choked when you were standing next to him, trying not to ogle you swathed in those gray sweats and feeling like the world’s dirtiest old man all of a sudden. “They’re getting better, starting to catch up. You shouldn’t call them slugs, Darce.”
“Please, like Wilson hasn’t called them worse, you’re too nice.” Peachy girl grinned when she turned in her chair again and saw Bucky looking like his jaw was about to hit the floor. “Have you met Detective Barnes, beefy?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure.” Bucky took in your name with an almost hysterical laugh when you reached out and shook his hand, not entirely sure what had come over him as he felt his neck getting unbearably hot and struggled to come up with something to say. “Well, I’ve gotta hit the showers, always lovely talking to you ladies.”
“Bye!” Both of them were grinning wickedly at Bucky once you were gone, chuckling when he just spluttered nonsense and looked at the floor. “What the fuck was that, Bucky?”
“Shut up.” He was flabbergasted, he’d never felt such an unbelievable attraction to someone right off the bat, except, once. But he never thought about that. “It wasn’t anything.”
“Oh, nothing at all?” Darcy was still grinning when Bucky growled at her, shaking her head and leaning back in her chair while the peach kept laughing. “So you weren’t staring at his ass when he walked away?”
“Of course not.” It had only been a little bit, you were so fucking tall your ass was impossible to miss, and so high and tight and… no, nope. “What the hell kind of nickname is beefcake, anyway?”
“You saw him.” Peach was practically cackling at this point, the redness on Bucky’s face so entertaining she was considering taking a photo to send to Nat. “The man is grade A USDA prime meat, what would you like us to call him?”
“You’re a couple of pervs.” Bucky just scoffed and ignored them when they told him it takes one to know one, flipping them off over his shoulder and almost forgetting his bag when he stormed out of the precinct to start his much needed alone time. “Inappropriate, gonna talk to HR about you two!”
If it had just been the one interaction, Bucky probably could’ve handled it. Yeah, he had jerked himself off thinking about your broad shoulders and tiny waist and that masterpiece of an ass, but only once, okay three times. But it was just over the weekend, he’d forget about you eventually.
Except for the fact that suddenly he was seeing you everywhere. Every damn time he was in the precinct, there you were, smiling that slightly crooked smile and laughing and making every person light up when you walked through the room. And in the fucking sweats every time, it was like torture. Torture that was made worse by the fact that Darcy and peach were always grinning at him like they knew something he didn’t, and they had apparently told Sam whatever they supposedly knew, so now that man was basically parading you in front of Bucky’s desk every chance he got and making him talk to you and get to see how fucking charming you were. He hated it.
“I do, I love cats!” Sam was chatting with you right in front of Bucky’s desk again and he was plotting how he could get away with murdering the man. “Have a little ginger idiot at home who has maybe two braincells, but he’s my baby.”
“Wow, that’s adorable.” Bucky almost growled at Sam when he grinned at him. “Bucky has a kitty of his own, don’t you, Buck?”
“Yes.” Sometimes he even hated his friends, this was ridiculous.
“I love that, knew you were a cat person.” Bucky almost groaned when you placed your hand on the desk so close to his, looking up at you through his lashes and trying so hard not to melt into his chair when he saw you smiling at him. “What’s her name?”
“Alpine.” You smelled so unbelievably good, Bucky had an incredible urge to lean up and bury his face in your neck, but managed to just turn the photo of his cat around to show you instead. “She’s three.”
“She’s gorgeous.” You winked and Bucky almost swooned, there was something wrong with him. “Shit, I’ve gotta get out of here, got a birthday party to get to. It’s always real nice talking to you, Detective.”
“You too.” Bucky swallowed thickly and shook his head when you walked away, his scowl coming back immediately when he saw Sam looking like he just ate a damn canary as he smirked at him. “Shut up.”
“Didn’t say anything.” Sam chuckled when Bucky just hunched over his paperwork and tried to ignore him. “Buuuuut… hoo boy, you like him.”
“I do not.” Murder was the only answer to these affronts. “He’s too young.”
“Bullshit, is peach too young for Nat?” Sam snorted when Bucky just grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the man’s stubbornness. “You like like him, you need to get over that massive hang up, Barnes, it’s holding you back!”
“Man, fuck you!” Bucky jumped when he realized that Sam wasn’t there anymore, so he was just yelling at the bullpen, every member of the team giving him looks of varying amusement before they bent back to their work. “Sorry.”
It was a legitimate hang up, especially when it came to you. Because you reminded Bucky of him.
Specifically of when he was young, when Bucky first realized he was in love and overlooked all of his flaws and just wanted to be wrapped up in him all the time in spite of the fact the man would only look at Bucky like his old friend who he could tell about every single disgusting conquest he made. And that meant you were dangerous. Bucky refused to do that to himself again, it had taken him too long to get over that malicious bastard, and nothing had hurt him more than the realization that he had wasted so much time loving someone who barely gave a fuck about him. He didn’t care how sincere and charming you seemed, he wasn’t going to fall for that same shit all over again.
But it didn’t stop any of his friends from dragging you in front of him at every opportunity, and even though he was polite and listened to you and answered all your questions, it didn’t stop him from snarling at them as soon as you were gone. He didn’t care what they thought he needed, he was fine.
He wasn’t lonely. He didn’t wake up grinding his hips into his mattress after dreaming of sharing his bed with you. He didn’t wonder what you would look like with soft morning light falling across your face while both of your cats jumped on you and Bucky made you breakfast. They all needed to worry about their own lives and quit fucking with his.
Which is why he should have been suspicious as hell when Nat and her little peach and Darcy insisted on taking him out for drinks on a Friday night. All of them together. At a dive bar that was typically just cops. Like they didn’t usually go uptown and dress up.
“Well, look at that, is that Sam?” Darcy bounced on her toes and waved when she spotted Sam with all of his recruits, her and peach squealing while Bucky shot Nat an exhausted look. “Gosh, I completely forgot they’re celebrating the academy graduation, what are the chances?”
“Shocking.” Bucky couldn’t stop growling when Nat just shrugged at him. “I can’t believe they dragged you into their scheming, Romanoff.”
“They’re young and excited, it’s cute.” Nat wrapped her arm around Bucky’s shoulders and started pulling him towards the group. “Besides, you deserve someone nice, and to spend the night with someone besides Alpine.”
“Alpine doesn’t take up that much room on the bed, and I like to spread out.” Bucky just resigned himself to having a miserable night, even when you gave him an easy smile once you laid eyes on him and waved eagerly. “And he might not be nice.”
“Buck, you won’t know unless you give him a chance.” Nat sighed as she rested her chin on her best friend’s shoulder, pinching his cheek and trying to get him to at least give her a grudging smile. “And you know how good my asshole radar is, I’m getting no pings from the beefcake.”
“Yeah, alright.” Bucky steeled himself when you started walking his way, feeling a little tight in his chest and watery in his eyes as he did his best to give you a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi Detective.” Your smile got even wider when Nat introduced herself, shaking her hand warmly then turning back to Bucky and crossing your arms over your massive chest. “Can I get you a beer?”
“I don’t…” Bucky caught himself when Nat looked at him expectantly and blew out a deep breath. “Yeah, a beer would be great.”
“Fantastic, for you too?” You winked at Nat when she nodded before hurrying off to get their drinks with an undeniable bounce in your step that Bucky found he enjoyed very much.
“Listen, Buck.” Nat gave you a very thorough look while you waited at the bar, wrapping her arms around her girl when she came to sit on her lap and Darcy sat across from them. “Even if it doesn’t last, you’re a special kind of idiot if you don’t at least have sex with that man.”
“Jesus Christ.” Bucky felt himself blush up to his ears when all of the women just nodded enthusiastically and started detailing what the two of you should do to each other. “You three are worse than frat boys, oh my god.”
“C’mon, sarge…” Darcy snapped her mouth shut when you came back with Bucky’s and Nat’s drinks, giving Bucky a meaningful look and making a little circle with her thumb and forefinger then pushing her opposite finger through it while your back was turned until Bucky felt like he was in fucking high school. “Hi beefcake!”
“Hi Darce!” You were sitting so close to Bucky he could smell you again, he had to start chugging his beer so he didn’t reach out to bury his fingers in your hair. “I’ve always wanted to ask, why does she call you ‘sarge’?”
“Oh, it was my rank when I was discharged.” Bucky couldn’t handle the way you were looking at him, like he was the most interesting thing in the room, he wanted to fall into your eyes and get lost. “From the army. Darcy’s sister served with me, so she knew me then and the nickname stuck.”
“I didn’t know you served, my dad was in the marines.” You could see Bucky starting to tense up and bless you, you backed off, keeping that easy smile on your face while you nudged his foot with yours. “It’s okay, that’s not something we have to talk about right now, tell me about Alpine, how’s the little lady doing?”
“She’s- she’s good.” Something about the way you instantly pivoted the conversation and didn’t make Bucky feel like an ass for almost clamming up had him relaxing pretty much instantly, grinning back at you and rolling his eyes a little playfully when he thought about his little furry troublemaker. “She’s a brat, but good. Almost gave me a heart attack last week when she somehow managed to climb up to the ceiling beams in my apartment.”
“Oh shit! Really?” You chuckled warmly when Bucky just nodded and took another sip of his beer, plucking at the edge of the label on your bottle and leaning forward a little so you could hear him better. “She get down on her own or did you have to get a ladder?”
“Well, after six hours of pleading and begging, I did finally manage to entice her with some tuna.” Bucky kept watching your face closely, the earnestness he was so wary of constant and never wavering while you listened to everything he said intently. “She’s too smart for her own good, I swear.”
“Fuck, I can’t decide if my situation is better or worse.” You laughed when Bucky scoffed, pushing at his shoulder and shaking your head when he looked at you with mock offense. “No, I love my boy, but he’s a dumbass of epic proportions. The most worrisome thing he’s ever done is get his whole head stuck in a mason jar. Theodore is an idiot.”
“Theodore?” Bucky was vaguely aware of movement next to him after he emptied his beer and set down the bottle, but he couldn’t stop watching your lips move. “That’s adorable.”
“Aw, yeah, my niece named him.” Your smile got even wider somehow and it was making Bucky melt, another bottle of beer appearing seemingly out of nowhere on the table and immediately finding its way to his lips. “It’s her favorite chipmunk.”
Cats. Talking about your fucking cats was apparently the kick in the ass Bucky needed to let almost all his concerns about having anything with you go, letting himself relax and be easy while you told him all these sweet, endearing little things about yourself. How much you loved your niece and how much of a star she was at figure skating. How good you were at baking and you didn’t care what he said, you were baking him a loaf of sourdough to prove it. How you played three different instruments and spoke two languages. You were too goddamn interesting.
And you managed to get him to talk about himself too. How close he was with his sister and mother and how much he loved seeing them as often as possible. How he secretly enjoyed knitting and always made sweaters for the family at Hanukkah but would kill you if you told anyone about his hobby. How he collected old records and could spend whole days just listening to music and drinking good whiskey.
Bucky was more than a little thrilled that you seemed to be hanging on his every word and scooting closer to him until you were right next to him and your shoulders were practically touching.
He had lost track of how many beers he’d consumed by the time people started dancing, but he knew it wasn’t too many as he was just very pleasantly buzzed and staring at your plump, kissable, pillowy lips and wondering what it would be like to suck on them.
“Hey, James.” Bucky had just told you his first name and for some reason the fact that was what you were choosing to call him was making him dizzy. “You wanna dance with me?”
“Oh, um…” Bucky chewed on his lip while he thought it over, he had two left feet when he was sober, and he also wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself if you put your hands on him. “I don’t know…”
“Hey, no pressure.” You winked like you did every time you said something disarming and Bucky decided that he loved that about you. “Just wanted to ask, but if all you want is to talk, that’s a-okay.”
Bucky was struggling with himself. You barely seemed disappointed, it had maybe flashed across your face for a second, but he believed you when you said it was okay. You even leaned back against your chair to give him space, zero hints of malice in your expression and just that perfect, easygoing look that made Bucky feel like you were fine taking no for an answer and you would never hold it against anybody.
And for some reason, that finally sealed it for Bucky that you weren’t him.
“I wanna dance.” Bucky winced when he almost knocked over his bottle when he set it down, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet so he could drag you towards the makeshift dance floor. “Let’s go.”
Your laugh made Bucky beam at you over his shoulder, humming along to the music and turning to face you once you were in the middle of it. His breath caught when you were right there, letting you frame his waist with your hands and pull him even closer while you started rolling your hips to the music. Bucky very quickly decided that he liked having your hands on him, shaking his head and gripping your wrists to keep you in place when you tried to lean back before he slid his palms up your arms and over your chest.
Somehow, even though he knew you were big, your massive size hadn’t fully registered in Bucky’s brain until he was in such close proximity to you. It’s not like Bucky was small by any means, he hit the weights, he never skipped arm day, he’d even been called beefy himself a few times. But you… goddamn. You were like nothing Bucky had ever seen before. He was starting to get woozy from it.
Then you ducked even closer and pressed your cheek against Bucky’s temple and he couldn’t help it, he gasped. He could feel your lips moving against his skin but he couldn’t hear anything you were saying, a low buzzing filling his ears while his fingers dug into your firm chest and he rolled his hips against yours. This was dangerous, he was not going to have sex with you without even a proper date, he wasn’t that easy.
He kept repeating it in his head over and over. When you slipped your arms around his waist and squeezed as you kept guiding his movements. When he buried his face in your neck and groaned when he finally got to breathe in your scent fully. When you nipped at the shell of his ear and made some kind of noise that sent a vibration through Bucky’s whole body. And especially when you grabbed his ass and gave such a dirty grind of your hips that made him feel how fucking hard and massive you really were.
It didn’t matter how much he repeated it though, it only took three songs before Bucky found himself with his back against a stall door in the bathroom with his pants around just one of his ankles and his toes barely brushing the floor while he practically sat on your face.
One of his knees was flung over your shoulder while you licked at his hole, his whole body shivering when you hummed against his skin and dug your fingers into his thighs and he didn’t even care that he was getting eaten out in a public bathroom and enjoying it quite loudly.
“God, I knew you’d be fucking sweet.” You growled but barely pulled back, gripping the thigh that was on your shoulder and pushing it up until it was pressed to Bucky’s side so you could see his face. “You taste so goddamn good, James, once I get you in bed I’m gonna make a full meal out of this ass, shit.”
“Oh… Jesus Christ.” Bucky could barely breathe when your mouth was on his hole again, he could feel your jaw working while you moved your lips and tongue like you were making out with him, all while you kept your intense eye contact and let his cock rest on your face like you didn’t even care. “Oh my fucking god.”
Bucky could feel your chuckle when a whine escaped from his throat without his permission, his eyes rolling when your tongue fluttered all around his twitching skin before you were dragging it over his hole again and sucking until Bucky almost squealed. But then your tongue punched into him and the squeal was ripped out of his chest, his breath heaving almost painfully while you fucked him with the thick muscle until his dick started leaking and twitching against your forehead. It was insane that you were so good at this, you were so young, but your mouth worked like you were a fucking pornstar and it had Bucky feeling some kind of way.
“You’re gonna let me fuck you, James.” It didn’t sound like a question, you were telling him, your face serious while you licked your way up his taint until you could nip at his balls while you slid a finger inside him. “I need it, need to feel you come on my cock, god, you’d better fucking hold it until I’m inside you or I’m gonna spank you, I swear to fucking god.”
“Yeah… yeah, oh my god, please.” Bucky felt like he was losing his mind when you sucked on his balls and pushed a second finger inside him, his legs shaking and his eyes rolling back in his head while he grabbed your hair and held on for dear life. “Oh shit… fuck me, I can hold it, I’ll be good, just fuck me.”
You leaned your cheek against his hip and kept grinning at him while you reached your free hand into your wallet to grab a packet of lube, chuckling when Bucky huffed at you when you ripped it open with your teeth and squirted it all over the fingers you were plunging into his ass.
“You brought lube with you?” Bucky was trying to remain huffy but it was difficult when you were scissoring his hole open so slowly and shit, it felt amazing. “What exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?”
“God, I dunno, James.” You looked meaningfully at the fingers that were currently knuckle deep inside him, wiggling them a little when you looked back up at him with a cocked eyebrow and snorting when he whined. “Would you prefer I didn’t have lube right now? Because I can stop…”
“No, don’t do that.” So much for not trying to seem desperate, Bucky was panting he needed you so bad. “I’m just… talking, I’ll shut up. I can be good.”
“Yeah? You’re gonna be a good boy for me James?” What were you doing to him? Bucky couldn’t help but whimper when you spat on your fingers to slick them up even more and added a third, nodding and rolling his hips into your hand when you just barely teased his sweet spot as you kissed the inside of his thigh. “Yeah you will, my good boy, opening right up for me.”
“Mmhm, yours, oh holy shit.” The addition of your fourth finger turned Bucky’s whole body into jelly, your hold on his thigh the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the floor when you licked a wide, flat stripe up the underside of his cock. “Holy fucking shit, pleasepleaseplease…”
“Shhh, don’t you worry, James, I’ve got you.” You groaned when he let go of your hair to shove his fist in his mouth when he gave you a tortured cry, slowly pulling your fingers out of him and setting his feet on the floor so you could stand. “Turn around for me, sweet thing.”
“Yes… yes sir.” Bucky let his eyes flutter closed when you kissed his temple and turned him around, pressing his cheek against the cool metal and arching his back when you placed one hand on his hip and used the other to pull out a condom. “I need it.”
“I know, handsome.” Your voice was muffled while you used your teeth to rip the wrapper open, nuzzling into the tendrils of hair that were resting against the back of Bucky’s neck so you could kiss him there while you rolled the condom over your length and emptied another packet of lube all over your dick. “You gonna call me sir while I fuck this sweet little ass?”
“Ye-yes… oh fuck!” Bucky practically screamed when your tip just barely slipped inside him, arching his back and whining when you wrapped your arm across his throat and growled in his ear. “Fuck… ‘s big, so big, fuck me.”
“You can take it, big guy, keep being good for me.” You grinned against Bucky’s cheek when he rose on his toes as you kept going, smacking his ass and chuckling when it made him clench as you increased the pressure on his neck. “You feel fucking incredible, Jesus. Been thinking about getting you like this since the first time I saw you, you know that? Did you think about me too, James?”
“N-no.” Bucky already felt extremely vulnerable while he was split open on only half of your cock, he didn’t need to admit to you that he had been dreaming about wrapping his legs around your tiny little waist while you fucked him slow and deep. “I didn’t.”
“Pretty sure you’re a liar.” You grinned and yanked his head back at the same time you gave a final snap of your pelvis and Bucky sobbed, his body shaking violently while you rested your hips against the plush curve of his ass and dragged your tongue along his jaw while you let him adjust. “That’s okay though, big guy, you can think about this. Now, I’m gonna apologize, because this is gonna be a lot faster than I would like, but we are in public.”
Bucky didn’t have any response except a yelp when you started driving your cock into him almost viciously, his breath punched out of his lungs each time your hips bounced off his ass while you sucked on his ear. He felt like he was about to explode, your cock driving into his swollen prostate each time you bottomed out until his balls started pulling tight to his body and his cock twitched. You must have felt the change since you dropped the hand that wasn’t attached to the thick arm that was currently choking him to grab his cock and start stroking him in time with your thrusts.
“Fuckfuckfuck…” Bucky felt like such a whore but he didn’t care, turning his head as much as possible so he could rub his nose against your cheek while he whined. “I’m so close, don’t stop.”
“I’ll give you whatever you want, James.” You groaned when his hole clenched around you, squeezing his cock and his throat at the same time and kissing the corner of his lips tenderly while you gazed into his eyes. “Gonna take care of you. Can’t wait to be able to take my time, enjoy you, god, could spend a whole fucking night in this ass, you’re so goddamn warm and tight. But I need you to come for me right now, James, make a mess on my hand, lemme make you feel good, c’mon.”
The thought of you in his bed and fucking him raw and open had Bucky tumbling over the edge of his climax with a shout, his desperate noises muffled by your lips when you smashed them to his as he quaked in your arms and shot his cum all over your fingers. He sobbed when you didn’t stop stroking him even once he was milked dry, his eyes rolling back when you throbbed inside him and almost lamenting the fact that you were filling the condom instead of pumping your cum deep in his guts and determined to get to the point when he would finally get to feel all of you. As soon as you were done you were bringing your cum soaked fingers to your mouth, keeping eye contact with Bucky as you sucked his cum off them slowly and groaning at his taste then pressing your lips to his again so you could share with him.
“Jesus fuck.” Bucky couldn’t think of anything else to say, smiling almost sheepishly at you after you had pulled out of him and tossed the condom, letting you turn him around and nuzzle at his cheek before you were bending to help him step back into his jeans.
“My sentiments exactly.” You gave him another one of those winks and he wasn’t even mad when he blushed violently. “You gonna be as big of an ass about me taking you on a real date?”
“I wasn’t an ass.” Bucky huffed when you stood back up and wrapped your arms around him, nipping at your bottom lip and grinning when you growled playfully at him. “I was wary.”
“Sure.” You kissed him slow and deep and smiled against his lips when he melted into you before pulling back so he could breathe. “Pretty sure the girls and Sergeant Wilson would agree with my assessment, but we can use your word.”
“Oh shit, they’re still out there.” Bucky screwed his eyes shut and moaned at the thought of the commentary he was going to have to endure, shaking his head when you chuckled and opened the stall door to start pulling him back to the bar. “Can’t we just climb out the window or something?”
“Yeah, I don’t think either of us could fit through that window, James.” You nodded at the tiny one by one glass square and kissed his temple when he sighed defeatedly, holding his hand and letting him follow you when you opened the door. “Besides, if you think I’m not going to enjoy showing you affection in public, I’ve got some bad news.”
Bucky’s retort was cut off by an absurd amount of hollering when you opened the door, his face getting unbearably red and the desire to either tell all of your friends to shut the fuck up or just book it out of the bar overwhelming. But then your arm was around his shoulders and your lips were pressed against his temple, and maybe he could put up with his friends being smug rowdy assholes for the rest of the night if you kept smiling at him like that.
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mcmookiemeal · 1 year
Note
Can I request a Donkey Kong x Socially anxious human(just reader who came with Mario and Luigi……your choice) Female! Reader? When I say “socially anxious”, I mean as in doesn’t talk alot and often gets nervous around others yet is still pretty stand-offish and seems intimidating despite the small size(but is actually not……just anxiety) but also has difficulty opening up. I also thought it would be a love at first sight thing(like Mario and Peach in the movie) as well as DK being all protective and maybe he gets jealous at one point…..
It can be a whole imagine, headcanon, multi-part story……..imma leave that up to you.😉
Donkey Kong x Socially anxious reader
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I’m gonna make you Mario and Luigis younger sister I hope thats okay!!
You and Dk had kind of a rocky start when you first met.
He was just so…out there.
And you were not.
So there were definitely a lot of walls to break before you guys even developed a friendship.
You met at the arena when mario was going to fight in order to win an alliance with the Kong army.
You were sitting up on the balcony with Cranky Kong and peach.
Dk hadn’t even noticed you at first.
He was too busy trying to gain his dad’s attention while showing off his muscle.
Then his eyes shifted in your direction.
And when he saw you he was just struck by your beauty.
“Hey…Hey whats your name?”
You looked around to see who he could be talking to before it hit you like a ton of bricks that he was talking to you.
“I’m (Y/n.)” You responded quietly.
He smiled at you and winked before turning his attention back to his brother.
He was here to fight after all.
After that event it kind of felt like Dk followed you everywhere.
And you didn’t mind, you were just wondering why he had chosen you.
“I’m sorry but is there a reason you’re following me?” You questioned while standing on the porch of the hut
“You’re just really pretty.” He said without hesitation
Did he even know what he was saying?!
Had he by any chance mistaken you for someone else? Never has anyone outside of your family called you pretty before.
In fact, most people considered you intimidating.
You just chose not to respond to his complement because you honestly didn’t know what to say, but that didn’t seem to stop him from keeping his mouth closed.
You didn’t even talk to him much, he did all the talking and you sat back to listen to him.
I mean everyone needed a friend who could listen to them right?
During the events of helping Peach take down Bowser, Dk stayed right by your side.
Seriously he never left once, he was always there.
It was almost like he was a lost puppy.
Mario picked up on what this “smash monkey” was trying to do and he really wasn’t a fan of it.
And the fact you seemed perfectly fine with it bothered him even more.
So whenever Mario would try to separate the two of you and keep you close to him, Dk just wouldn’t have it.
He would snatch you back from your brother and keep you next to him, where you belonged.
You really didn’t like it when they fought over you, but you understood Dk was probably just happy to have a human friend so you didn’t mind.
It was a completely different story from his perspective.
He just had a really really big crush on you.
He just didn’t understand how could a girl as beautiful as you be related to someone as annoying as Mario.
Even though you didn’t talk much, he still loved being around you.
But sometimes it did worry him a bit.
Did you secretly hate him? Were you in love with someone else? All these thoughts ran through his head so finally he decided to ask you about it.
So when you and Dk got swallowed by the giant eel after the big battle at rainbow road, he figured this would be the time to ask.
“Do you hate me?” He asked, breaking the silence.
You looked up at him and raised a brow.
“No.” You responded before looking back down at your feet.
Then why do you never talk to me? Did I do something to upset you?”
You sighed and shook your head.
“No you didn’t…It’s an issue on my part.”
His face contorted from one of worry to one of confusion, He didn’t understand what you mean’t.
“I’m just not good with other people. It’s not that I don’t like you, i’m just nervous around everyone.”
He didn’t understand how you felt, but he didn’t need to understand to help you.
He grabbed your hands in his very large ones and squeezed them reassuringly.
“You never have to be nervous around me.”
You blushed as he stared at you with those big eyes you just couldn’t bring yourself to turn away from.
You know…since we might die in here, I’ve got something I wanna tell you.”
You look at him with a curious expression, wondering what he’s going to say.
“I really like you.” He confesses.
“Huh-?”
You really were not expecting that.
You didn’t know what to expect from him but it definitely was not a love confession.
“I just think you’re really pretty and nice and cool and I just really like you.” He continued
Your blush only grew darker and darker as he continued with his confession to you.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I get it.”
You sat in your own thoughts for a second, contemplating on what you should say next.
You liked him too but you have never been a romantic person so you really didn’t know what to say right now.
He anxiously looked at you, obviously waiting on your response
You couldn’t keep him waiting forever so it was now or never.
“I like you too but I- I’m kind of scared of getting in a relationship.”
“Scared?”
“Yes I’m scared. It’s a lot of commitment, trust, and it just sounds so scary to be in love with someone.”
He wasn’t sure on how to comfort you, this was obviously a personal issue that he stumbled into by accident.
“Whatever you decide I hope you know I’ll always protect you.”
You look up at him with glossy eyes and nod, wiping away any tears that had stained your cheeks.
“Thank you, but how about we continue this conversation when we get out of here.” You said remembering that you were in an eels stomach.
After escaping the eels stomach on a barrel from Dk’s kart, you two made your way to go crash Bowsers wedding.
Fighting your way through the koopas like badass couples do(you’re not a couple yet but you act like one)
You and Dk came in as the fight was still at its peak, so you helped out by fighting some koopa troopers who just so happened to be in the way.
The fight at the Mushroom kingdom looked like it was about over, You and Mario found Luigi and had your moment as you were reunited, the same went for Dk and his dad.
Everything was fine until Bowser released that giant bullet onto Peaches castle.
Mario stepped in and led it away into one of the pipes which seemed like a smart plan at first, but it ended sucking all of you in with it.
You all landed in Brooklyn and Dk made sure to keep you in the backlines.
The two of you had been through so much together, he didn’t wanna risk loosing you now.
But when Dk has his little brawl with Bowser it wasn’t looking too good for him.
Bowser had him up in a chokehold and was getting ready to punch the life out of him.
You needed to help but you didn’t have anything on you so you grabbed a brick from one of the buildings that had been destroyed and threw it at bowsers head.
He dropped Dk and slowly turned his head towards you.
He huffed and angrily ran in your direction but before he could get to you Dk pushed him out of the way.
“(Y/n) go get the star!” Dk yelled and nodded over to the star.
You understood and ran as fast as you could over towards the star but sadly Dk wasn’t able to hold Bowser off forever and Bowser came after you once again.
He caught up to you and grabbed you by the collar, throwing you back with intense strength.
Dk caught you in his strong arms and didn’t let you go.
He wouldn’t let you go. He couldn’t let that crazy turtle freak hurt you again.
“You’re okay I got you.” He comforted as he stroked your hair with his finger.
You clung onto his big fuzzy arm, shaking violently as a few tears escaped your eyes from the fear you just felt.
The rest of the fight you and Dk sat back to let Mario handle it since you had done all you could do by that point.
The conclusion to the battle was sweet, Bowser was defeated and everyone was happy.
You decided that you didn’t want to stay in Brooklyn anymore, Instead you wanted to go back to the Jungle Kingdom with Dk.
Your brothers chose to stay in the Mushroom Kingdom meaning they were always close, which you were happy about.
Dk and you got together(obviously) and ended up having a pretty successful relationship.
Sure it took a lot of effort to get to where you are now, but you’re so happy you put forth that effort.
Dk is pretty happy you got together because he was really wondering if that crush would ever go away.
A/n: Hope you enjoy!!❤️❤️
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jungkook97 · 1 year
Text
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fling;; jjk
pairing: canon idol!jungkook x reporter!reader
word count: 4.6k
rating: ma
genre/warnings: romance, angst
summary: you were interviewing bangtan and couldn't help but felt a level of closeness to the youngest member. soon after, jungkook ended up taking a liking to you, proposing that you two should meet up throughout the week while he was in town for a little fun.
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notes: this has been a fantasy of mine. it's angst as usual, but it's more so of lost connections that the boys may have upon going on these promo cycles overseas.
this also exists within the decision to leave jungkook fictional universe from the perspective of the reader.
© jungkook97 2023. do not repost or modify. please ask for permission to translate.
You were nervous. Very nervous. 
Your hands were shaking a bit, clammy as you wiped the sweat off on your dress as you checked your Apple Watch for the fifteenth time. It wouldn’t really change anything but more so of a tick that you had whenever you were nervous.
It was the first time you were assigned to interview with an A-list celebrity, or rather, an A-list group. You followed their careers from nearly the beginning, slowly becoming a major fan (minus the unhinged nature of being a stan, of course). It was as if you were living your dreams out in reality, something that you never thought in a hundred years or even this lifetime that you could do.
And so, you held your breath as the time ticked closer and closer to their arrival. The staff had arrived to go over some topics that you couldn’t talk about, the usual: dating, anything super personal, and anything that would be anti-capitalistic (although you had a feeling that some of the members wouldn’t have minded having such conversations). You knew the drill at that point as you zoned off, thinking about how you would be interviewing the biggest band in the world, talking to them and them actually responding back to you in real time. 
It was hard to grasp for you. Like everyone else, you always saw BTS as a group that meets a lot of people every single day, not really being able to distinguish faces or fully pay attention like operating on autopilot. The idea that they would be perceiving you drove you insane as your heart thumped ever so loudly in your eardrums, wondering who you saved in a past life to deserve interviewing a group you admired for so long.
Eventually, the time came to usher them in, and you held your breath in anticipation, continuing to self-soothe yourself by rubbing your hands on your thighs as they walked in one by one, looking exactly the same. You had seen them in concert in the press boxes, maybe a few times up close as a fan, but having them bow to you in greeting…it was a lot.
“H-hi,” you mustered all the courage to start the greeting, meeting eyes with every single member slowly, taking it all in. They responded, leaving your heart leaping for joy and also with an uncomfortable, but not uneasy feeling in your throat. You felt like it caught a mass while you were waiting for them, but you knew it was just simply nerves. “S-sorry if I’m too nervous around y’all–”
All of them started chuckling, with Namjoon putting his hands up in attempt to comfort you (it did a bit). 
“It is totally okay,” Namjoon spoke in his usual deep voice, perhaps an octave lower than you anticipated. “We get this pretty often, actually.”
You flushed in embarrassment, shifting in your seat trying to feel a bit more comfortable. You could feel the heat of all seven of them having their undivided attention to you, and the studio lights being as hot too. You weren’t sure if you were sweating everywhere else, if you smelled, if you shaved enough to get rid of any peach fuzz, or if you put enough makeup to look just as gorgeous as they were.
It didn’t matter anymore. You were in the moment. Too late to go back now.
You took a quick deep breath, exhaling slowly as you heard your cameraperson stating that they were ready to roll. 
“Let’s begin.”
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It was easier than expected. Your nerves got the best of you at first as you stuttered the first few questions out before taking a five minute break. It was embarrassing, but the boys understood, trying to coax you and comfort you by stating that they get it often. 
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to be another young fan acting like a high school girl around their crush!” you laughed, wiping your tears away from the welling of tears as you were overstimulated (you had disclosed to them awkwardly about your neurodivergence, something that Yoongi immediately nodded and expressed his understanding much to your surprise). 
“You’d be surprised,” Namjoon reassured, smiling. “There was a male reporter earlier that kept freaking out about Jin-hyung.” 
“Really?” you chuckled as the members nodded in agreement, talking to their oldest in Korean, probably teasing him. You weren’t fluent in Korean, but you could tell from Jin’s red ears that they were making fun of the situation. 
“Yeah, it was funny,” Hoseok said, his light and bouncy voice filling up the room. He had become as fluent as Namjoon was over the past year after having spent a year in the U.S. after his enlistment. “Like, I think he got a…crush?”
“Ey, no~” Seokjin protested, you understand for him to disagree. He spoke some more, in which the interpreter from the earpiece all of you had translated, “He was a fan of all of us.”
“No, I’m pretty sure it was just you,” Hoseok pressed via interpreter. “I can tell he was one of us,” he pointed to him and Jimin (the both of them had come out to the public two weeks ago together as a part of the LGBTQ+ community). 
“A crush, huh? Worldwide Handsome getting everyone!” you laughed as the interpreter did as well, translating for the rest of the team. Everyone agreed, giggling as well. 
“Can we continue?” Namjoon piped in, his index finger imitating an old film camera rolling. You nodded, gesturing to the cameraman to continue.
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You and BTS talked about a lot of things at length, questions that you never thought you would ever say to them. Surprisingly, a lot of the more “controversial” opinions got past the company, perhaps from all the work the boys had done to be as transparent to the fans as possible. Most of what you speculated the boys had felt during their hiatus were validated, and some were debunked to your surprise. You were shocked to learn that most of them had a lot of control over their solo activities, if not complete control despite what the conversation was at the time on Twitter. 
Eventually, the boys turned the mic back to you, asking something that caught you off guard.
“We heard you’re a huge fan of Jungkook’s,” Jimin beamed in mischief, nudging the youngest to pay attention. Jungkook had barely spoken at that point, but you had felt his eyes on you the entire time, getting you a bit flustered sometimes. 
Jimin wasn’t wrong. You were the biggest fan of Jungkook’s, mostly ever since his sudden glow-up with his tattoo sleeve. You had a soft spot for the kid (you were a few years older than him), and seeing him grow into this confident and sexy late-20 something was satisfying for you to see. 
“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, your hands covering your mouth in shock. “How did you guys know?”
“Ah…” Jimin trailed off, looking towards his other members. “I think Namjoon-hyung found your Twitter fan account yesterday?”
Fuck.
“What?!” you exclaimed, standing up. The members cracked up as Namjoon began to protest, putting his hands up. “You stalked me?!” you asked teasingly.
“No! It’s just…” Namjoon started stuttering as well, caught in the act. “I heard from our translator that you were a big fan and so, I did some digging…”
“Well, you did a lot of digging!” you argued back, laughing and flushing madly. You didn’t want to look at Jungkook at this point, although you felt he was embarrassed based on how much he was shifting in his seat from the corner of your eye. 
You felt like you wanted to die. Die in a sense, you now knew that Namjoon saw your unhinged tweets about the group’s maknae. You wondered how far he scrolled down, if he saw your tweets crying about Jungkook’s sparkly ensemble at the last concert stop a few days ago that amassed to tens of thousands of tweets. You wondered how he even found it, considering that you didn’t even follow your fan account on your public one. Maybe you forgot to unlink it on your YouTube account, or maybe you had accidentally shared the numbers on your Instagram. It didn’t matter: Namjoon found it. 
It grew awkwardly quiet, and you could still feel the gaze from the youngest. You were too scared to even look at him. What if he thought you were insane or unhinged? Did Namjoon even show the tweets to him? You were mortified at the thought of him staring in disbelief. 
What was even worse is that he knew before you guys officially met, meaning he had been staring at you the entire time in silence, probably mortified that an obsessed, crazed fan of his was conducting the interview. In fact, it made sense as to why he was so quiet: he probably was judging you for being batshit nuts on your stan account about him. 
“Ah, I shouldn’t have said that,” Jimin sighed loudly, his words being translated. “Now it’s all awkward…” 
“N-no, it’s okay,” you lied, shuffling your interview cards. “I had a feeling you guys have your burner Twitter accounts just watching us,” you squinted your eyes at Namjoon. His cheeks turned red as you did the same, your heart fluttering. 
“It’s just Namjoon,” Hoseok emphasized, even though you knew that to be a lie. “He has too much time in his hands.” 
“Ey, shut up,” Namjoon said in Korean, chuckling. “Well…don’t you want to say something to Jungkook, maybe?”
You blinked.
“Say what?”
He shrugged, smiling. 
“I don’t know, I thought you guys would be the type to want to say something to someone you really admire. I’m sure Jungkook would like to hear from his biggest fan,” he teased. 
You blushed madly, laughing nervously. 
“I didn’t prepare or anything,” you began making excuses, your eyes slowly moving toward Jungkook’s direction to gauge his reaction. It took a few seconds, probably from the interpreter for him to understand what was going on before he sat up straight immediately, clearing his throat. 
“Yeah!” Jungkook exclaimed a bit too loudly, clearing his throat again. “I wanna…hear.” 
The rest of the members echoed the same sentiments. 
“Ah fuck,” you muttered. Not BTS putting you on the spot to confess your feelings. It wasn’t something you really wanted to do in front of the entire group and the crew, but the crew kept pressuring you to do it. After all, it would make great TikTok content. It was then you turned away from the group, just dying from embarrassment. 
“Come on, it would be so cute,” your PD encouraged you. 
“But it’s so embarrassing,” you whined as you flushed wildly, your back toward the group. “I have so much to say.”
“I’m sure Jungkook wants to hear all of it. He seems to really like you!”
Your heart skipped a beat from hearing that. That was true, the group and you kept having great laughs and teases throughout the entire interview. 
“Fine, fine.”
You took a deep breath, nodding towards Nicole, their interpreter. You could see Jungkook leaning in closer as you began. 
“You’ve always been my favorite,” you began. “And uh, I always admired that you always did what you wanted no matter how many people said you shouldn’t. You’re strong and rebellious, something that I admire because I wish I had half of that strength…”
You closed your eyes at this point, your eyes swirling in its eye sockets. You couldn’t believe you were saying this to Jungkook who was right in front of you. For a moment, you forgot that you were interviewing him, that it was a professional setting. You felt like you needed to say all of this, knowing full well how much Jungkook had felt insecure about his image change and how he was being perceived. He was pretty explicit about that in the recent lives you were able to catch, and you wanted to comfort him. 
“And I know that a lot of people have a lot to say about you, and as an older fan, I just want to say…not all of us are like that. I’m not, at least. I want you to be happy, to be loved, to be able to not be restricted by society’s standards. I want you to know that I will always love you no matter what, that you will always be my favorite person. I hope one day, you will find someone or something that will make you feel like home, Jungkook. I want…” 
You swallowed. 
“I want you to be comforted. And unconditionally loved.” 
You sighed deeply, shaking your head as you opened your eyes, looking right at Jungkook. You felt a bit confident after all of that as Nicole continued translating for him. He was listening intently, crossing his arms trying to digest all that you said. 
“Ah…” he vocalized a few times, nodding his head. His eyes grew glassy as he closed his eyes a bit. 
There was silence, this time more comfortable than before. You held your breath in anticipation, wondering how he reacted to that. Was it too much? Were you being a little too extra? 
Fuck, that was too much was it. 
“I’m sorry if that’s a lot,” you blubbered out, putting your hands up in defense. “I…kind of lost myself there.”
A moment of silence for the translations. 
Jungkook laughed. 
“Ah, it’s okay,” he said in Korean. “Uh…”
He smacked his lips together, his eyes looking at the floor sheepishly. He then looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness and joy. 
“Thank you,” his voice echoed in your skull as he thanked you in English. 
You looked away abruptly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. It was a lot, and you felt like you could die at any moment. 
“Uh, let’s take a break, yeah?” Namjoon piped in. You agreed, taking your lavalier mic off and running straight to the bathroom. 
Or rather, let’s end this so I can die in a corner, probably. 
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It wasn’t long until the interview was over, much to your dismay. While it felt like you were floating on clouds, it felt too short, too professional for your liking. 
Ever since your confession though, you felt a pair of eyes intently following your every movement, or so you thought anyways. You never once coded Jungkook’s stare to be intense, but he was quite attentive after your little spiel, nodding and laughing at your jokes (even though it was off by a few seconds for translations). You wished that you were native in your own tongue, but as the interview went on, you surprisingly knew more than you thought, laughing at the supposed inside jokes they had. You guys went briefly over the infamous dumpling incident, which, at this point, had its own lore. 
The boys felt approachable for once, although you knew for quite some time that they would be. You were similar in age with them after all, the same age as Namjoon give or take a few months. It felt like you were talking as friends rather than an actual interview that you were being paid to do. 
Nonetheless, the interview was a success, and you were packing your things up to go home. 
That was, until Namjoon approached you. 
“Hey,” he began, startling you. Your eyes widened at him coming up, being his normal self. 
“Hey,” you managed to say back, trying not to freak out. Is he about to do what I think he’s about to do? “What’s up?”
“Uh…” Namjoon put his hands in his pockets, smiling sheepishly. “I was wondering if you wanna get dinner with Jungkook and I. He told me he really liked your energy today, and was wondering if we could talk more over some food.”
Holy shit. Is this real?
“Uh….” was all your stupid self could say, gawking at him as if he said something completely unintelligible. “Um…”
Say yes, you asshole.  
“It’s fine if you have to like, uh, edit and shit,” he continued, his eyes averting away from you, his voice trailing off. 
Fuck, dude. Say something back. Say YES. 
“Um…” 
Then, you saw Jungkook at a distance, overwatching the whole conversation. His lips were pursed into a pout, his neck extending toward the direction of you two, perhaps trying to hear what was going on. There was no way you could be making this up. Jungkook seemed… interested in wanting to spend more time with you. 
Romantic? Unsure. But definitely interested. 
This wasn’t the first time a celebrity has asked you to dinner (in fact, you were a looker yourself, whether you liked it or not), but with BTS? They were more definitely out of your league. However, you felt like you had been friendly at this point, so why not? 
“Yeah, why not?”
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Dinner was a blast. In fact, it was the most fun you ever had. 
While you and Namjoon exchanged even more funnier quips, teases and passionate arguments about life, you and Jungkook sat next to each other, just feeling rather comfortable. It wasn’t to say that you two were feeling each other up, but Jungkook, an avid fan of Namjoon’s, was taking your side the entire time, initiating contact here and there to definitely show more than just platonic interest. You were taken aback at first, recoiling your hand when he “accidentally” brushed his hands against yours, but after a while, you leaned into him, showing your desire to get closer too.
Jungkook wasn’t as shy as you thought he was, and by the time dinner was over, he was playing footsies with you, his shoulder leaning against your own but disguised as him getting a bit too drunk for everyone’s liking (well, Namjoon’s anyways). Namjoon showed signs of feeling like the major third wheel, but he was, after all, the wingman in all of this, awkwardly smiling his infamous smile when he felt out of place. 
“Ah, you guys look really comfortable, huh?” Namjoon pointed the obvious out in his native tongue as you laughed. Jungkook leaned into you as you cupped his face with the biggest grin ever seen. 
“He’s adorable,” you replied back. “Cuter off-camera, if you ask me.”
“Gag,” Namjoon teased. “You guys need a room?”
You were staring into Jungkook’s doe eyes at this point, the chocolate pools of wonder. He was deeply in love, or at least, enamored by your presence. It turned out he was feeling you as well throughout the interview, and something in the air felt right to him. Not per se, bells ringing in his ear (he was past the romanticism), but he wanted more. So much more than what you two could do in front of Namjoon. 
“Can we use yours, hyung?” 
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It didn’t take long before you two fucked after Namjoon and the two of you parted ways. In fact, both of you leaped onto each other madly the moment the door closed behind you. Of course, it was met with the typical NDA the morning after, something that you were quite used to at this point. It was a given that your night with him would be done in secrecy and with a contract to never speak of it, but to be honest, you weren’t planning to do that anyways. Jungkook was yours, even if it was for a split second.
“You’re incredibly beautiful, you know,” Jungkook breathlessly said after some time had passed, your bodies entangled with each other under the pillowy white sheets. “I never felt like I could just connect with someone I just barely knew.”
You grinned back, kissing his lips and the rest of his face. 
“Call it karmic,” you replied back. 
Jungkook, not knowing what the word was, leaned back in confusion. 
“Kar…mic?”
“Uh…” you struggled to find the Korean word equivalent, trying to run through your shoddy vocabulary. “Um…it’s like…fate…?” 
You weren’t sure what the word was, although it seemed to be received well with Jungkook. His pupils grew dilated as his mouth relaxed into a comfortable smile. He closed his eyes, leaning against you. 
“Ah…fate, right?”
You blushed wildly. 
“Yeah…fate.”
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For the next week, you two met up every night in between your guys’ respective craziest schedules. Thankfully, it was easy because you were able to attend their next show (at the request from the artist, of course). While the others were in the press box though, you were in the family and friends’ box in which Jungkook may or may not have secretly passed by to steal a kiss or a hug. The two of you had agreed that this would be a short thing, nothing too serious. After all, the language barrier was a bit rough, and you two were working professionals. 
However, you couldn’t help but to feel more of a connection besides a little fling because well, both of you were totally into each other. He eventually gave his personal cell (or at least, the U.S. one he used in the States) to text, something that Jungkook admitted he didn’t do often. Adoringly, he had his read receipts on, and it looked like he always checked to see what you wrote, even if it took a good hour or two to respond. 
“I’m getting better at it, okay? Heh,” he would write, sending butterflies in your stomach. He was making an effort, although you can never be sure if he was like this with other people. Not that it mattered, you knew what it was, and you weren’t going to be caught up in it. 
As the days went on, you and Jungkook started sharing intimate details about each other, something that you only had when it was a real relationship. This confused you, but maybe it was because you used to be the only one who did it as a part of the neurodivergence part of your personality. You found out more about his flings, how much he craved for more than just fucking around.
“I don’t know,” he said one night as you brushed your fingers through his hair, his face buried deep into your chest. “I feel like…you know, I want something more with all of these people. Like…I’m wasting my time whenever I do these things, but…I can’t help it. How can I find someone when I’m Jungkook of BTS?”
It was a lot to take in, but you took it on like a champ. There were thoughts that you wondered what Jungkook would think about, and it felt unreal that he could say all of these things to you in the comfort of his hotel room, away from all the lights and the glitz and the glamour. In this moment, in this scene in your guys’ story together, he was yours. 
“Do you want more?” you asked quietly. You weren’t sure as to what you were saying, but it felt right to ask. 
He shifted his head and moved it up to see yours, closing the gap between you two. 
“Always. I always want to be loved unconditionally.” 
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It was getting complicated, fast. 
You weren’t sure how to end it. In fact, time was ending it for you. It was Jungkook’s last day in the States, and it seemed like Jungkook suggested you go on tour with him for the next stop, Central America. While you weren’t entirely opposed to it, you knew where this was going. Last time, a celebrity had suggested that you to do a documentary film on them, and while you were flattered, it was just another way to keep you around at their convenience. 
It wasn’t to say that Jungkook was being selfish. Rather, it was the circumstances that made him think this way. With how restrictive the industry was, and how incredibly famous Jungkook was as well, it was hard for him to see people besides those closest to him, which at this point, had began to warn you during your time in the family and friends’ box at the shows about Jungkook’s quick attachment to people. 
“I know he always says he doesn’t get attached, but he really does,” an ex-fling told you in confidence in between VCRs. “He told me he was going to keep it professional, but the guy lies.” 
You were dreading it. Although you felt great that you slept with your favorite, it wasn’t your intention to get anything more out of it because well, what is there left? You signed an NDA, the company regularly asked if you two used a condom…it was getting invasive, weird, and it was starting to turn you off.
And so, the last night came through and you two met up again. This time, you knew it was the last time, and to Jungkook, maybe the start of something new. 
As you began to pack up your things, Jungkook laid on the bed sprawled out underneath the sheets. 
“So…Mexico…” he began. You sighed, knowing it was coming. 
“No, Jungkook,” you replied, turning toward him. “As much as I liked this, I can’t travel with you.” 
“I’m not asking for you to travel with me,” he rebutted, sitting up and grabbing his shirt to put it back on in one hand. “I’m just saying, come with me to the next show! It would be great coverage for the magazine.”
“Jungkook-ah, that’s not how it works,” you doubled down, zipping up your weekend bag before putting your jacket on. “I have to get approval from my editor. Plus, people are starting to talk, and frankly, I started getting texts from your fans about us.”
There it was, what you had been hiding. Honestly, you were used to it from the last celebrity you hooked up with, but this time, his fans, or his stalkers to be exact, knew everything about you, threatening to ruin your life if you didn’t stop fucking him. It was getting emotionally taxing, but you wanted to hide that from him. After all, you were confident that wasn’t his first time hearing this. 
“They’re not my fans and you know this,” he argued, now getting up and putting on his Adidas track pants. “The real ones will know it’s a little fling.”
“Do they though? Do you though?” 
There it was, the hard truth. 
Silence enveloped between you two, and Jungkook stood there in the dark with his hands in his pockets. He was staring at you, his eyes clearly pleading for you to not leave. 
“Don’t leave,” Jungkook’s words came after. “I know this seems a lot, but I really like you. We can make it work.”
Make it work…as if that could ever be a thing. 
You walked toward Jungkook with your weekender bag slung over your shoulders. Slipping your shoes on as well, you came closer to him, his breath hitched as you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. 
“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you began. “We can’t keep doing this. This is our last night together.”
He exhaled sharply, his eyes closing slowly. 
“I know.”
It didn’t take long before you two blocked each other on everything, pretending that you two didn’t exist to each other. It took a few more weeks before the fans stopped bothering you, probably focusing on the next fling Jungkook had. 
And so there it was, you had a fling with one of the biggest stars in the world. 
If only you knew what would happen next.
END. 
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pastanest · 1 year
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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡
Daryl Dixon x she/her!reader
spoilers: set in season 6
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Unsaid
It’s so strange, staring out of a proper window, into a real neighbourhood. Gives a new perspective to how your group has been living since the start. Even at the farm, it was rare that most of you felt comfortable to enter the Greene house, and at the prison the windows werent exactly homely. That word seemed alien to you now. Alexandria is like a dream, a fantasy, one that you’re so afraid you’re going to wake up from. But at the same time, you cant help hoping that this could be a real home, a safe place. Turning around, you lean on the kitchen counter, your eyes glancing over your makeshift family, until they reach the lonely angel sitting on the living room windowsill.
Daryl Dixon. A man you’ve spent years getting to know, while he has gained the courage to do the same for you. The two of you could talk for hours on end, there was never a moment of discomfort between you. But there was always something that you both skipped over; the time was never right, or there was never enough time. It wasnt safe enough to admit the darkest secret you shared with him, it wasnt safe enough to realise it, to acknowledge it even existed. So, it stayed quiet.
But that isnt to say that you and Daryl resisted the magnetic connection that pulled you to each other. Somehow, he senses that you’re approaching him, and searches the room until his eyes land on you, walking towards him.
“Uh, Daryl? I was wondering if you could...keep watch, while Im in the shower.” You ask him shyly.
Daryl takes in everything about you, the way your fingers are fiddling with the hem of your dirty shirt, the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes are avoiding his.
You and him have always had a thing, an understanding and a softness towards each other that never developed into anything else, it just exists on its own; dormant, waiting. The world was too chaotic and dangerous for the two of you to ever have a moment to explore it, so it remained an uncharted, lingering presence.
Daryl always understands what you‘re saying, and the parts that you didnt want to say - he hears loud and clear just by looking at you. So he knows that you are coming to him because you‘re still scared, and he wants to help.
“Yeah, no prob’m.” He answers, standing up from his place at the windowsill and following you to the bathroom upstairs.
You dont speak to him anymore, you simply offer a grateful smile before entering the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Daryl idles there, hearing the water turn on and then you sighing with relief as you step under it.
Somehow, you get so lost in the clean bliss of showering that you forget Daryl is standing right outside, and you start humming. Before you know it, you’re singing away to yourself, and Daryl cant help smiling from the other side of the door, keeping his head down as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed, so that if anybody walks by they wont see the smile on his face.
A couple of times, people in the house do walk by, and although they’re all people in the house and therefore in the group, Daryl still stands up straighter and makes it clear he’s guarding the door so that nobody tries to go in there. He’s always been protective of you like that.
When Daryl hears the shower turn off, he kicks himself off the wall lightly and shifts his weight from foot to foot awkwardly, not knowing how to stand and wait for you, not knowing which standing position would appear the most relaxed to you. His hands feel empty without his crossbow, he’d find it much easier to stand “naturally” if he had that with him.
The door opens and a cloud of steam guides you out of the misty bathroom, you have a peach coloured towel wrapped around your body and you’re using a white one to scrub at your wet hair. You jump at the sight of Daryl, and then laugh to yourself, blushing again.
“I forgot that I’d made you stand here, oh gosh.” You cover your face with your hands as you realise he must’ve heard you singing.
Daryl shakes his head “Didn’ make me, I wan’ed to.”
You meet Daryl’s eyes then, confusion written on your features, and his eyes widen.
“Shit, not like that! Didn’ wanna be here just ‘cause you were showerin’, I jus’ mean’-“
You smile up at him, making no effort to cease his ramble, but your smile stops him anyway. “I trust you Daryl, dont worry.”
Heading to one of the bedrooms to get dressed, you stop suddenly and turn to him. “Do you wanna shower next?”
“Naw.”
“Daryl.”
“What?”
“Shower.”
“Naw.”
“What if I keep watch for you just like you did for me?” You smile at him again, and Daryl’s heart melts.
It is utterly adorable that you think he’s scared to shower because of being vulnerable to attack, and that you are offering to protect him in the same way he did for you. By no means does he want to shower, it brings about vulnerability of an entirely different sort. But, you standing outside the bathroom means that you’ll be waiting for him after his shower, and he’ll get more of a chance to talk to you, which gives him something to look forward to. That, and he couldnt deny that your presence at the door would reassure him, he knows you can be fierce when you want to be, and nothing would get past you, it’d sooner kill you than get to him. Wow, really Daryl? Thinking about her dying while you’re in the shower? That’s reassuring.
Daryl nods at you after a few seconds of silence. “Alright, but you go get dressed first. You’ll catch a cold standin’ there in damp towels.”
You squeal excitedly and run off to the bedroom you were previously heading towards, shutting the door behind you. Daryl shakes his head and laughs, unable to believe that you just got even cuter. Seconds later, you arrive at his side, clad in pyjamas far too big for you, the pants are so long they act as socks as well, and the sleeves are so long that you‘re balling them in your firsts to act as hands.
“I am ready to kick ass if anything tries to get your ass!” You throw some dramatic, pyjama-shirt-fisted punches, and Daryl does his usual scoff laugh.
“Never felt safer.” He teases as he messes up your hair, and you scrunch your face up in the most adorable frustration. For a precious moment, Daryl lets himself admire you while you’ve got your face scrunched up and therefore your eyes closed, but then he’s closing the door behind him as he enters the bathroom.
While he’s stripping free of his clothes, Daryl imagines you on the other side of the door, kicking out the long pant legs of your pyjamas, swinging around the long sleeves. Little things like that entertained you somehow, the presence of that childlike wonder and amusement that this world manages to kill even in children themselves, but it had never succeeded in taking that from you. By no means are you unaware of the way the world is now, and that’s what amazes Daryl so much: even after witnessing the horrors of the world around you, you still manage to keep yours - and everyone around you’s - spirits up.
When he steps in the shower, Daryl doesnt see the smile on your face, the sound of the water changing because it has someone standing under it telling you that Daryl is actually showering. You know there‘s something else that keeps him from showering, from walking around shirtless like the other guys do during hot weather. You didnt ask him, and you never will. If he wants to tell you at any point, then he can do that in his own time and in his own way. It means a lot to you that despite you not knowing what it is, you offering to protect him in this way and him accepting it shows that he trusts you, too.
As the shower stops, you hear wet footsteps out of it, and then Daryl curses under his breath.
“Everything alright in there?” You ask him, knocking on the door quietly.
“I aint got no damn clothes.” Daryl mutters.
Your eyes widen. “Okay, right, wait here, I’ll be approximately one minute!”
Sprinting back into the bedroom you got dressed in, you start searching through the piles of clothes given to you from the people of Alexandria. In record time, you manage to find some boxers, a pair of grey sweats and a baggy black vest that look like they’ll fit Daryl, while also not risking making him overheat. You skid your way back, panting when you get back to the bathroom door because you’d been so frantic.
“Got you some stuff! If you dont like it, I can go find you something else.” You tell him through the door, and Daryl opens it slightly.
Another cloud of mist greets you, and then Daryl’s clean face, wet hair, and just the tiniest glimpse of his naked chest. You pass him the clothes, and he nods at you before closing the door again, leaving you swooning against the wall. That was a lot, wow.
A minute or so later Daryl steps out wearing the clothes you’d given him. Daryl Dixon in grey sweats? You had unintentionally plotted your own demise. His hair is wet and messy, definitely knotted from how roughly he’s tried to dry it with a towel.
You smile at him, eyeing him up and down. “Lookin’ good, Dixon!”
The way you‘re looking at him makes Daryl feel a little insecure until you say that, and he realises you‘re in fact checking him out.
“Stop.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “Make me!”
Daryl rolls his eyes at that.
You take a step closer to him and reach up to part his hair. “This just wont do, though. C’mon, I can fix it!”
And then you’re grabbing his hand and leading him to an empty bedroom. Not the one with clothes in, because other people could go in there looking for said clothes. You make sure to go into an empty one, and bring Daryl over to a bed. Pushing his shoulders gently, you sit him down on the edge of it, and then you dart out of the room. When you return, there’s a hairbrush in your hands, and Daryl scoffs.
“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”
You beam at him. “Not even a little bit! Your hair is lovely, it deserves to be properly taken care of.”
The compliment sounds sincere, and Daryl struggles to meet your eyes after that. You climb onto the bed and kneel behind him, parting the rest of his hair before you start to brush it. He expects it to hurt at least a little, but you’re so gentle with him that he wonders how you’re even getting the knots out.
“Y’know, I’ve always liked seeing you in a vest.” You bring up casually.
“Why?” Daryl asks.
“You genuinely have the best arms I have ever seen on a man, and every time you cover them up it hurts my feelings.” You tell him, and Daryl scoffs, causing you to chuckle. “You wish I was joking!”
He shakes his head. “Keep my arms out for the sake of yer feelin’s, got it.”
You smile from behind him. “Thank you for your consideration!”
The rest of the time brushing Daryl’s hair is spent in comfortable silence. For a little while, Daryl even closes his eyes, just enjoying the feeling of you taking care of him, even through such a simple action. You dont point out that you notice, not wanting to embarrass him or disturb the peace he was feeling. You even re-brush sections that are already brushed through so that his peace lasts a little longer. Eventually though, you’ve spent a suspiciously long time brushing Daryl’s hair, and you sit back on the bed.
“There! All done!” You cheer, before running your fingers through his hair and sighing. “Wow, not to toot my own horn but I did a damn good job.”
Something about you saying the word ‘toot’ amuses Daryl. He runs his own hand through his hair. “Yeah, ya did, thanks.”
“No prob’m!” You somewhat impersonate his accent from his response earlier, and Daryl turns around to playfully raise an eyebrow at you.
“You makin’ fun o’ me?”
You gasp dramatically. “Never! Your accent is incredibly sexy!” And then you’re smiling at him again, and Daryl’s avoiding your eyes.
“Ya drive me crazy girl, y’know that?” He shakes his head.
Your smile widens into an all-out beaming grin. “I know, it’s my absolute favourite pastime!”
“Anytime I try to drive ya crazy back, ya always one-up me.” Daryl says, sounding only mildly annoyed.
“It’s a gift!” You almost sing.
Daryl sighs, looking down at the bed, and you place your hand over his, being unable to cover it because his hands are so much bigger than yours.
“Hey, what’s on your mind?” You ask him, the teasing tone vanished from your voice and replaced by a caring one, a soft one, that is mostly reserved for Daryl.
“You, like ya always are.” He tells you, boldly meeting your eyes, his gaze flickering from them to your lips, and when you smile at him again, he cant hold back.
Daryl leans in, placing the lightest kiss you’ve ever felt on your lips before he pulls away to read your reaction. The corners of your smile crease into your rosy cheeks in the most beautiful way, and you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him yourself. Daryl fully turns himself around, kneeling up with you so that he can wrap his arms around you. The kiss is more passionate than the two of you had anticipated; the connection between you having been ignored and put aside for so long that now you’re finally acting on it, it’s all either of you can think about. You start leaning back, and without breaking the kiss Daryl helps lie you down comfortably beneath him, using his forearms to hold himself above you. Your hands explore him, tugging gently at his hair as you wrap your legs around his waist and bring him closer to you, then running over his tensed biceps and making yourself sigh ever so quietly just at being able to touch him like this. Daryl growls against your lips, unable to put into words his emotional response to you appreciating his body in the way you are, in a way nobody ever has. His lips leave yours to place kisses on both of your rosy cheeks, then he creates a trail down your neck.
“Daryl.” You breathe blissfully, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he could’ve lost himself to that alone.
“Mm?” Daryl hums.
“I’d love to, but we shouldnt, not yet.”
He lifts his head to meet your eyes, and he nods. “I know.”
You hold his face in your hands. “We’ve got the rest of forever, there’s no rush.”
Daryl’s eyes stare into yours, searching for the answer to his question before he’s even asked it. “Ya wanna spend yer forever with me?”
You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Of course I do! I adore you, Daryl Dixon.”
His heart skips a beat. I love you, that’s the cliché, that’s the weighty, scary norm of a relationship milestone. But adore? You adore him?
Daryl rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Expressing his feelings through words is still a new concept to him, he cant quite muster up the courage to repeat your words to him, but he knows that whatever’s left unsaid, you’ll hear loud and clear.
“I’ll make it worth yer while.”
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The Oracle|| Concept Oneshot 2||
This is in 3rd perspective and heavily rushed. Be warned angst is coming and slight comfort, but mostly hurt.
Pillars of ice reach the dark sky. Making the land brittle and dead. However, this sight wasn't anything new. The girl saw this scene a hundred times but it was her first seeing it in person. The atmosphere was cold and heavy, as dread filled her body. She continues on the slow walk down the dead soil.
“Stay calm, this is a dream.” She says under her breath. Trying to calm her raging nerves.
“For now, at least.”
A feminine voice softly spoke. Quickly the frightened woman turned around to see a girl. Who wore a small smile.
“It’s you.”
“Indeed, we haven't been able to meet one on one since that day. Tell me, how is this world treating you so far?”
The air became thicker and colder as the small girl slowly closed the distance between the two. The woman couldn't open her mouth.
“You must have suffered so much. It's a shame that I couldn't get to you first. Being exposed to such awful hardships.”
Something within the woman didn't let her move. The world shifts from a blinding misty blue, before reverting to normal. She clutches her head in hopes to stop the nauseating pain. Ice formed around her feet, making sure she won't be able to run. The girl's smile turns malicious as she reaches toward the woman's scared face.
“That's why I need you, to purge this cursed land. Bringing peace and happiness to all of the people. No more worries, no more pain, only pure bliss.”
The Lady Bone Demon brought her lips close to the terrified woman’s ear. She softly whispers her next words.
“So stop trying to change the future, it's not your destiny to do so. Come back to me and join the others. Can't you hear them?”
Whispers fill the quiet void, chanting the same thing.
‘Join us.’
The ice slowly consumes her body, reaching her stomach.
“Let's make the perfect world, where everyone is happy. You know deep down this is your destiny, to be dead.”
The Lady Bone Demon grabs Y/n’s hair, forcing her head up. Staring right into her eyes, shifting between the familiar pale blue that shines brightly and a dull e/c.
“Oh, my~ looks like you just made the future worse for your friends.” She smirks, turning to her side. The scene changed, now standing on top of the mech.
“Do you want to see how you will die?” The Lady Bone Demon whispers softly as other spirits repeat her words.
‘Do you want to see how you will die?’
‘Again…’
Misty blue figures slowly appear, trying to play out a scene.
“Then again, you can always see it from that damn monkey’s point of view.”
Tears were falling off her face, shaking her head trying to not see the upcoming scene. As if on cue, a golden light blinds everyone. The cold air becomes warm.
Y/n opens her eyes to see the same old white ceiling. It took her a minute to register where she was at. Sitting up on her extremely warm bed.
“What just happened?” She says softly, finally noticing the peach-colored monkey sitting up against the wall.
“Want the good or bad news first?” His eyes were staring at the floor in front of him.
“After that nightmare, might as well ask for the bad news first.” She sighs, before heading towards Wukong. Hand reaching out for him to take. He just hands her the bracelet instead.
“Well, it seems like LBD was trying to forcefully take your soul when you fell asleep. However, I just managed to get here in time. I took off your bracelet hoping that the blessing you somehow received could save you and it did. So next time, take off the bracelet when going to bed.”
He didn't look her in the eyes. Fearing what the celestial being saw. Yeah, he was scared that he nearly lost her but when taking the bracelet off, he saw his grim future. A future where you're not in…
Maybe messing with destiny wasn't such a good idea.
This resulted in someone having to pay the price for defying its rules and looks like they found someone.
A soft whine came from his side. He noticed that Y/n’s dog was rubbing her face against his pants. As if the dog senses his uneasiness. Wukong pet the animal trying to calm down.
Y/n stares at the Wukong, his behavior makes her nervous. She had never seen him so defeated. Putting the bracelet back on her right wrist. Y/n decided it was best to sit beside him. Leaning against his shoulder.
“You don't have to tell me what got you afraid.” Y/n said, resting her head. “In a bit we can head out and eat something for breakfast.”
Wukong let out a chuckle, his tail wrapping around Y/n’s waist.
“That sounds lovely, let's call it a date and we can head to Pigsy’s, my treat.”
The dog's tail wags getting excited from the happy atmosphere.
“Also how the hell did you know I was in trouble? Last time I checked, you were heading home.” Y/n asks, with a smirk.
“Okay, so I may come around at certain times at night to check up on you.”
“So you were low-key stalking me?”
“I take my new job of watching over you very seriously. Actually, I'm quite offended by your word choice!” He turns his head away from her. Y/n laughs.
“If you wanted to sleep over, I wouldn't have minded. Anyways, I guess, your guarding did pay off well. Thank you for saving me.”
Wukong's expression slightly falls from her words.
He won't be able to save her next time.
_____________________________
This was a short one, but I'm just coming up with ideas that come to me. Hopefully, the next oneshot will have a little bit more characters and more plot revealed. Soon the story will be more polished and you guys can finally read the whole thing!
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themswritinwords · 8 months
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The Hundred Fifty Seven Deaths of the Immortal Ethan Ellis: Cast profiles: Ethan Ellis
The man himself (Ethan) - he/him; 24 years old biologically, 310 years old chronologically; Quietly Depressed Optimist in Desperate Need of a Hug and a Nap
Depressed, traumatized, self-sacrificial, dysfunctional, exhausted--what's not to relate to love?
Just woke up during his own autopsy. That's definitely not going to unearth any poorly-buried Issues!
What do you mean endless gallows humor and self deprecation aren't healthy coping mechanisms?
*slaps bruised and blood-stained noggin* This bad boy can fit so much mental illness and metaphor in him.
The result of a necromancer-wannabe's attempts at immortality; ex-human-guinea-pig with all of the attendant moral, philosophical, and psychological conundrums that come with death being a temporary condition.
One of three "successful" experiments. The other two adjusted pretty well, all things considered. Ethan did not.
Alas, they didn't have therapy in colonial America. You know what they did have, though? An abundance of dangerous life paths and causes worth dying for. That's not gonna reinforce any dangerous thought patterns or unhealthy mental states, I'm sure!
Longest streak between deaths has been just shy of 4 years. All but one of them has been his own dang fault. He is fully aware of this, but in a deeper sense, he is entirely unaware of this.
Always cared more about others than himself. This got infinitely worse when he realized he could die without consequences (supposedly).
Animals hate him! and no that is not just the start of a clickbait article. Every animal he's met since getting immortal'd has tried to put him back in the ground. He used to be a cat person, though.
Chronically friendless and self-isolated. People don't handle the dead guy coming back to life very well, and he's gotten more than one witness in life-ruining trouble by reviving in front of them. He finds it easier to just stay away from people on all but a surface level. (Again, I can't imagine that's going to cause problems down the line....)
Travels like an overripe peach, which is to say he is the King of Motion Sickness
Repeated resurrection has turned the man into a caloric dumpster. Over the course of a day and a half he consumes ~30 chicken nuggets, four burgers, a large fry, a medium bag of chips, a popsicle, and half a cup of ice and he's still desperately hungry.
Flip flops between annoying little brother energy and annoyed big brother energy depending on who he's arguing with at the time.
Wants: Everyone and Everything to leave him tf alone (also a shower)
Needs: One good reason to live and way fewer reasons to get himself killed
Immediate goals: Keep his only friends from getting dragged down with him and all his issues
Long term goals: None, and that's rather the point (not that this is a recurring theme in my characters or anything....)
Character arc can best be described as: that quote that's like "Dying is easy, living is hard;" the shift from hope, caring, and love as passive traits to hope, caring, and love as active choices worth making
Favorite things about writing him
The Catharsis. There's a reason so many of my OCs end up with mental illnesses and unhealthy patterns of thought. Ethan is just the most explicit of these self-inserts.
The snarcasm and humor were both challenging and so fun. I'm not a witty person by nature, so it took a bit of perspective shift to get right. I think I got better a dialogue overall by writing him.
He's a very internal and thought-ful person, and it was an interesting balance to write. He always thinks more than he says and feels more than he thinks.
Not to toot my own horn, but his third act breakdown and "Oh Sh*t" moment were a delight to write and some of my strongest writing moments.
His voice is very informal and sarcastic, and it was fun to write genuine horror in a goofball, this-might-as-well-happen sort of way.
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broadswordandpistol · 5 months
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“Hey Alvin! Hope patrolling and entertaining Silva hasn’t run you ragged.” Ludger called out to the mercenary as he passed by his brother’s stall. “Nii-san’s out giving wishes to Lady Norn, so maybe you wouldn’t mind sitting down for a peach pie? It won’t take long– Julius’ Tomato Specials has a… special upgrade.” Somehow, Julius installed a time dilation device in the kitchen. What’d take 50 minutes from Ludger’s perspective only burned 1 minute outside the stall.  
How did he get that? Where did it come from? After Julius explained where his teleportation powers came from, Ludger saved his questions. All that mattered is customers got their orders with short waits, which was a good cause. Unlike the electric wires.
Anyway, in about 2 minutes flat, Ludger presented Alvin an entire peach pie, fresh from the oven. “Be careful, it’s still hot,” His inner Julius nagged involuntarily.  “Um… While you eat, there’s a lot I need to say to you. The first one, I’m sorry about what happened in the dungeon. I’m– Blind destruction’s what Kresniks are born for.” And unlike his peers, he leaned into their primal nature for Julius’ sake. Leaving no trace of his foes behind, regardless of ties… He’d reflect at another time. 
“But the more important thing is I have quite a few thank yous I owe you,” Ludger hadn’t meant to create a pile, but when live hands you Void Entities, priorities shift. “You put yourself in harm’s way against monsters like the Undead Princess. You didn’t look at me differently after… everything. You entertained Nii-san’s antics, which I know isn’t an easy thing to endure. For everything you’ve done? You deserve all my thanks and then some.”  
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“When you return to your world, I hope yours ends in a way everyone can be happy with. I’m cheering for you,”
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"Hey, you keep up the sappy stuff, you might get the piecrust soggy," Alvin teased gently. He offered Ludger a piece.
"I know things are different for you and your world, and I'm sorry that things couldn't work out where everyone got a happy ending. Life isn't fair, and I know that." It wasn't so much that he was upset about the other Alvin ending on this Ludger's lance -- he'd always figured he'd die a messy death. Uncomfortable, but understandable. Elize, on the other hand ...
How this Ludger lived with that, he wasn't going to ask.
"You're welcome. I'd imagine putting up with his antics every day could be a strain sometimes even for you, even though the two of you mean the world to each other." Literally.
"I'm hoping my world doesn't end for a long, long time, but we'll see how things go. Fingers crossed, and thanks for the well-wishes. Wish there was something I could do for yours."
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jeanbie · 3 years
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LESSONS IN LOVE ★ masterlist.
pairing: jean x reader x eren
warnings: porn-couple au, modern snk au, rough sex, masturbating, choking, riding, impreg, creampie, squirting, daddy kinks, loving sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, porn, humiliation, orgasm delay/denial, multiple orgasms, degrading, cockslut, cum eating, bisexual eren, intentional cringe dialogue (it’s a porno after all) | wc: 4.7k | ♬
note: this is a replication of my story koopid on my other account gwoongi. i hope you enjoy this alternate perspective
⏤ The sight of his shit-eating grin leaves Eren with a prickle of hot frustration that hurts when the video rolls to an end, with no flashy end credits or promotion. Just a black screen with his own idiot reflection staring back at him.
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Eren liked porn. Like virtually every guy in his fraternity, Eren watched porn almost daily. There was something addictive, like a drug, about visiting PornHub; porn was like an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while, and watching porn was like relieving an itch that he couldn’t quite reach.
“The fact that all you do when you get home is watch porn is just sad,” his friend Sasha had said, with her cheek pushed up against the worn bicep of Eren's one of many frat brothers, Marco. Eren had just scowled and said nothing, not feeling the need to defend his unrequited friendship with porn because, “everybody watches porn”. 
To him, it was kind of like gaming; everybody played games, some more than others. And Eren enjoyed exploring every category, watching searches with pretty thumbnails of peach genitals or cum-stuffed faces, holes leaking with it.
It was a Friday evening, the end of Eren's long haul of work from a week of University. With an untouched linguistics assignment flashing to be given attention in his emails, Eren closed the tab and sighed loudly with a frown, rubbing the side of his face with his hand. 
Boredom was the bane of his life, and he could feel it slowly creeping up on him, wrapping like a snake to prey around his body and very slowly squeezing the life out of him. After a few moments of exhausting hesitation, Eren groaned and reluctantly reached for his laptop.
“When you’re bored, try and reach out to a friend,” was something his Mother had always said. Granted, she didn’t quite mean ‘friend’ as a synonym for PornHub dot com, but at the end of the day, she never specified what a friend was or who the friend could be. 
And, look, Google filled in the blanks for him as he typed in ‘p’, and like a loyal good best friend, Pornhub logged him in automatically, his premium membership like a badge of honour.
Eren glanced at the time- ten forty three in the evening, and the exhaustion from classes and his late afternoon shift at the Italian restaurant down the street still hung over him, despite the glorious view of cum-filled cunts and leaking dicks. Because, when dabbling with porn, Eren wasn’t picky. 
Life could throw a thousand warm wet vaginas in Eren's face, or a thousand veiny cocks, and he’d still find himself with his hands stuffed down the front of his pants, begging for some kind of release. 
Sasha's old words echoed in his head- it was sad. What he was doing, and how often he did it, was actually the saddest thing in the world.
Unlike normal, Eren hovered his cursor over the categories, undecided on where to go to. He’d viewed every category to death, spending hours jerking to images of girls on all fours, dressed like cats, gags stuffed in their mouths; boys with big dicks up their asses, tears down their faces. You name it, and Eren has probably seen it, bought the t-shirt, left a rating. 
As he scrolls, Eren's cursor lands on a category he admits is rather alien: Verified Couples.
Not that Eren is at all against love- in actual fact, he thinks that is what he yearns for most of all. Somebody he can take care of, and look after, and wake up in the morning next to and stroke hair from their face, all whilst simultaneously being able to shove their faces into the mattress and fuck them, and be fucked. He’s just never explored the Verified Couples section, because honestly, he thinks he might get a little jealous of either either party in the video. 
What if the girl is the hottest woman he’s ever seen before, and she’s being dominated by a guy Eren knows from three seconds isn’t good for her? And what if the sexiest man alive is wasting his time with a selfish girl who only cares about herself?
Regardless, Eren decides that today, this Friday of April, he is going to explore this category like Lara Croft in a new tomb.
He clicks, unbothered, and scrolls for a few seconds. Nothing is catching his eye; none of these thumbnails show him anything he’s never seen before, and they’re all painfully mediocre, some just plain weird with titles like “Abusing my husband with feet!”, which is certainly not going to make him feel good tonight. 
After a minute or two of bored searching, Eren almost realises why he never dapples into this section of porn when he pauses, mildly interested in a thumbnail and a title reading, “Rough sex with my girlfriend.”
The sight of the thumbnail takes his breath away; a man, with unbelievably toned thighs and a gorgeous curved ass holds his girlfriend like she is the last thing alive on the planet, his arms wrapped around her body, the skin bunching up like old Greek statues you’d find in galleries. She is made of marble and the guy is the sculptor, breathing life into her skin as he, from the thumbnail, holds her side with his left and her small tit with his right. 
The thumbnail moves as he hovers the cursor over it, and for a short few seconds, Eren watches the boy’s hand move from her tit to her throat, and the muscles in his hand suggest he is holding tightly, his hips meeting hers in a sweet kiss as she matches his thrusts.
Eren can already feel the discomfort tenting in his joggers and he clicks the video without a minute of hesitation.
It begins like most pornos, the sight of the boyfriend’s enlarged cock at the bottom of the frame, the delightful view of a V-line and honey abs filling the screen for a moment as the boyfriend fiddles with the camera of amazing quality. In the background, Eren sees the girlfriend, her body dressed in pointless coral lingerie, the sight of perked nipples soaking through and faded bites on her collarbones. 
Before enlarging the video, Eren checks the uploader: qpids. The bio reading, Fucking Y/N until she cries for me to cum inside her, signed by Jean. 
Now he’s familiar with names, and it feels as though he’s watching in through the window, hiding behind curtains as Jean fucks the living shit out of his unbelievably cute girlfriend Y/N.
“Mmm, you look so pretty, baby girl.”
Eren notes how sweet the unknown Jean sounds, almost as if his voice had been dunked in honey, and his words were the glump of thick substance dripping down. He sucks in a breath when Jean comes into view, naked for the world to see, a smile on his face Eren believes was made for him. He’s boyish enough for Eren to enjoy, and he leans back, allowing the couple to do what they intend to do.
“So fucking pretty,” Jean comments between his teeth, his fingers looping around your underwear. “Who bought you this?”
“You did,” you reply, shimmying to aid Jean as he slowly pulls your panties down the length of your thighs, smooth and newly shaved. Eren can see a shine. Marble. “Do you like it?”
“Mm, that’s right. I love it, baby,” Jean says, lifting you with ease up and out of the panties, already relatively soaked from whatever foreplay he did beforehand to get you hot and flustered. “Are you gonna let me fuck you tonight, for everybody to see?”
A gasp leaves your lips. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he murmurs in reply.
“Yes, daddy.”
“Mm, good girl. You’re so good,” Jean praises, kissing beneath your chin and encircling your arms around you. You grab onto his biceps for balance as he smooches the skin, with one swift movement setting you down on your back onto the plush pastels of the bedsheets, a whitewashed blue with pretty tiled patterns on the pillows. You lie there, staring at Jean as he shadows over you, a hand on either side of your body. 
The muscles in his back flinch as he moves downwards in a curve, kissing a messy line from your chin to your sternum, leaving behind a visibly wet trail Eren follows with his eyes. “You’re so good for daddy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, only for you, daddy,” you squeak out, like a little kitten, a strangled and high-pitched moan leaving your lips as Jean licks a line between your breasts, one hand palming a tit in circles, his thumb rubbing your nipple beneath the lace of the bralette. “Only for you.”
“I know,” Jean acknowledges, rising up when he realises he’s prolonging things. “Keep being good for me, okay, baby?”
You mewl with a nod as he continues, getting off from his words, a vocal God, “you gonna let daddy have your sweet little pussy, hm? Let me fill you up with my cock, fill your pussy with daddy’s cum?”
“Please,” you breathe out, arching your back up as Jean removes the bra with one hand, taunting his experience to the audience and helping you slip out of it, your perked breasts sloping upwards like tiny mountains, a delicious treat for daddy. He contains a groan.
Tonight, he wants to be mean. Tonight, Jean wants to have you all, every inch of you, he wants to shove his cock so far inside of you that it hurts. For the first time on his channel, Jean wants to be rough. He wants to put on a show, show everybody who you belong to. 
“Please. I want it- I want you to fuck me.”
Jean palmed your breasts for a while longer, deciding what he was going to do with you. After a very short briefing in his head, Jean hummed to himself as if thoughtfully pleased and moved between your legs, satisfied and proud when you spread them open for him. He let out a hiss between his teeth, looking at the wetness pooling between your legs.
“My, my,” Jean comments. “All this for me?”
“All for you,” you confirm. He is so close, his touch burning, and you rise off the mattress impatiently, whining loudly. “Please, daddy. I need you.”
Jean makes a noise with his mouth, as if disappointed. He isn’t, but he knows how to push your buttons. He knows what to do and when to do it to get a reaction. 
“I don’t think you deserve my cock just yet. daddy needs to hear what you want him to do to your precious little pussy. Hm? Tell me, tell me what you want me to do, baby.”
Eren thumbs his head, rubbing pre-cum like it was a new lotion. His cock was throbbing, pulsing as if breathing on its own.
“Please,” you begin, your voice enough for Eren to wrap his fingers around his cock in anticipation, “I need your cock inside of me. I want you to fuck me, until I can’t walk. Please, please, you own me. You own my pussy. Ugh- I need to feel you inside of me.”
Jean almost has the nerve to look unsatisfied, but he reckons, and only because he knows the ratings depend on it, that he’s prolonged it enough. He knows what everyone’s here for. Even though he does, nobody else cares about what you have to say. 
He pretends to think about it, humming once more before smiling, dragging you down the mattress by your thighs so your wet cunt is closer to his dick. You writhe with anticipation as Jean massages his cock for a few moments, sucking in a breath and then positioning the tip near your entrance. 
He’s going in raw today.
Underneath him, you moan as it teasingly prods at your entrance, throbbing for his length. From where he kneels between your opened legs, Jean stares at your hair dancing around your head like a halo, the blush burning on your cheeks. 
With his mouth open with admiration, his heart widening out of pure love, Jean remembers what he’s doing and without warning, shoves his cock inside, without giving you the chance to grow accustomed to his hardened length.
He’s big- Eren, behind the screen, can see that.
Beneath his body, and heavily breathing torso, you cry out with pleasure, a large and loud moan ripping out into the silence of your bedroom. It sounds like Heaven to everybody’s ears, Jean responding with a grunt of pride, knowing only he can make you feel this good. He pulls out and thrusts back in roughly, without caring for how it hurts. 
From the angle of the camera, Eren gets a good view of Jean's dick pushing in and out of your hole, that tiny hole Eren thought nothing could ever get inside. He watches with wonder, his expression like a child in a sweets shop, as Jean pulls you closer to him, pushing deeper inside.
“Feel good?” Jean asks through laboured breaths.
“Yes!” you squeeze out, tightening around him. “Oh, yes!”
“Mm, you like daddy’s cock?”
“I love your cock,” you rush out. “I love daddy’s cock so much.”
“Hmm,” Jean replies happily, the praise making his chest inflate with adoration and confidence. “I love how you take my cock, baby. Your pussy is so pretty with my cock inside.”
You fall silently shortly after that, save the erotic groans and moans and the distinct clapping of skin, like an applause for all your hard work. Eren pumps his own dick desperately, his eyes flitting from your face to your tits, the right cupped by Jean's large hand and the other bouncing gorgeously in the light, to the way Jean's ass clenches as he finds a new spot to abuse inside of you, a new spot to send you yelling out with pleasure; Eren shakily breathes out a moan as he stares at your gaping cunt, wet and glistening like a 90’s edit from Tumblr, Jean's dick moving in and out with wet sounds.
Jean changes the pace, quickening his thrusts as if it doesn’t even matter. He gets drunk off the reaction, grinning with a soft chuckle as you cling to his skin like letting go will kill you, each thrust met with a yelp that increases in pitch and volume. 
Eren knows how this looks and sounds, but he doesn’t care anyway. His laptop is on its side as Eren frantically pulls his joggers down to pool around his ankles, his red and angry cock snuggling into his hand as he watches the pair of you, entangled together, lovers, in a sort of love Eren can’t even wet dream of having. 
He looks at the screen through a blurry gaze and sees you writhing with pleasure, tears slowly pulling down your flamed cheeks.
“Oh, right there!” you mewl, your hands clenching around the skin on Jean's thighs. “Oh my God, Jean, right there.”
He visibly falters, as if the screen glitched, and the hand wrapped around your tit moves up to your throat. The thumbnail- Eren groans out loud at the thought, remembering how it went. Jean wraps his hand around your throat, his thumb where it needs to be, his eyes glued to your face observing your reaction. He wants to test how far you can go. He wants to make you cry, and hurt. He wants you to feel humiliated, embarrassed by how you beg for him to keep going deeper, faster, rougher. 
Jean feels like a church-boy discovering sex for the first time, testing the waters on how many sins he can break before his Priest father comes into the room.
“Who said you could call me that?” Jean sneers, his hand tightening slightly. You moan around the struggle, your eyes lidded and heavy with the euphoric weight of sex. “Hm?” Jean's hips stutter faster, rougher, sharply hitting a spot that sends you in a squealing mess.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” you gasp. “‘m sorry. I won’t do it again. I’ll be good.”
“You’ve disappointed me,” Jean admits. Then, quite suddenly, he stops moving, the absence of his pace sending you writhing with anxiousness. The threatening orgasm begs to spill over, like a nearly full glass that needs a few more drops before overflowing from the top. “You gonna make it up to me, little one?”
You nod against the sheets. “Yes, daddy. I promise I’ll be good.”
“Okay, baby girl,” he agrees, He sits back on his heels and Eren watches with agonising anticipation as Jean sits between his own legs, his feet behind him, pulling you from the mattress onto his lap where your own legs wrap around his tiny waist. “Fuck yourself on daddy’s cock.”
Like a good girl, you don’t need to be told twice. Eren finds out from the way you look at your boyfriend between barely open eyes that you’re a total cockslut; you wrap your arms around Jean loosely as you sit back down on his cock, like it’s your throne and you own it. 
It takes a moment for you to readjust to his size, sucking in a breath and rising up and down on it, doing all the work as Jean watches with his tongue between his teeth, his arms up with palms flat on your back.
“Hmm, show everybody how good my cock makes you feel,” he instructs, moving his mouth to your nipple and giving it a light suck. It’s as if he’s taking a toothless bite out of a whip of ice cream, getting a taste before going in for the whole thing. He looks up at you between his thick eyelashes, “go on. Show them who’s making you feel good.”
 With one hand, Jean kindly wipes away the tears from your face. “Don’t even think about cumming. You haven’t earned it.”
Eren can feel his body deepening with a hot flush as he watches- perhaps not entirely with want but with need, a need to be loved and fucked and held the way you are. He never realised how much he needed qpids in his life until he stumbled across it, and his heart panics with an unfamiliar lust when you rock your head back and look shyly at the camera.
Eren can see now that your face is hot, sweaty slightly and tear-stained, your lips swollen from whatever foreplay Jean failed to include in the video. He doesn’t care- he’s torn between looking at your eyes and your tits, bouncing around Jean's lips, or your ass, moving with each deep sit you take on Jean’s dick, his length buried in your warm cunt. 
He wants to see more; he wants to see your pussy stuffed with dick, he wants to see the cum pour out of you slowly like cake mixture. 
With his hand moving quickly up and down his own length, Eren can feel the nerves twisting inside of him, like the rise in volume slowly creeping, his orgasm nearing. You lift yourself up and down on Jean’s dick like you were made for it, like you were the only person worthy of sitting on it.
“Dirty little slut, being selfish with my cock,” Jean words around your nipple. “Huh? Look at you, taking in all my cock like a big brave girl. Bet everyone wants to see your pretty pussy.”
Yes, Eren says to himself. Please. Please.
“Do you want that?” he edges. “Want everyone to see how stretched your hole is for me?”
You don’t reply, stubbornly, fucking yourself onto Jean’s dick like its your life’s purpose. Jean doesn’t want to show people. He doesn’t want them to see everything on this one video- if they want to see your pussy stretched out and pretty for them, then they can check out your other videos. 
Eren’s a porn connoisseur; he know looks, and he knows that’s what Jean wants as he glances you up and down and then at the camera. He smiles smugly, and the audience suddenly know it too. He’s not going to give you what you want. It’s his turn to be selfish. Eren moans out loud.
“Tell me baby,” Jean asks, “what you want?”
“Please-please,” you gasp out, “please cum inside of me. Please. Please- oh, Jean, please, baby. I’m close. Please cum in me-fill me up?”
Jean kisses your breast. “Do you deserve it, princess?”
“Yes, I do,” you reply. “I’ve been good for daddy. I’m daddy’s good little girl.”
“Mmm, you are,” he agrees. He kisses your breast sweetly once more, looking up to kiss you round on the lips. Around him, you groan, sending butterfly kisses across his lips and he smiles, half forgetting what he’s doing. From his smelly bedroom, Eren thinks it’s sweet. He wants to cum so badly.
“Okay, honey. I’ll cum inside of you this once,” Jean complies. He pulls you flush against his chest, rearranging himself inside of you and then lifting his hips to match your rhythm. “Are you gonna be good for me?” You reply with moans.
Eren moves his hand so fast- he pumps his dick with a quicker speed, his mouth hanging agape as you moan sweetly above Jean’s forehead, and then slowly look to the side at the camera, daring the audience, staring into the lens and by extension, right into Eren’s eyes. He wants to fall inside the screen, and rip you out of Jean’s hands. He wants to be the one inside you. He also wants to be the one around Jean, feeling his big dick stretch him out. Eren cries out- porn was so unfair.
“Bet you’d like that, you little slut,” Jean grins, “wouldn’t you? Letting daddy fill you up with his cum. Yeah? You want me to do that, put all my sperm inside you and make a baby?”
“Mmh, Jean!”
“Look at you,” he continues, laughing slightly. “Look at how you take me. Your tiny little hole.” He scoffs with affection, “You’re a mess, baby. My little baby, taking my cock so well. I’m so proud of you.”
You cling to your boyfriend, your jaw slack as you groan and stare at the camera. Eren can feel his stomach twisting, his hands cupping at his balls for relief, imagining that one hand is you, and the other Jean. 
He can feel his heart in his ears and his throat; Jean buries himself deeper inside of you, gripping at your marble skin to drag you down and up onto his dick, the slapping skin no match for the moans pouring from your lips, and faintly, he can make out Jean’s own moans, slightly high and breathy, indicating the end is near. Eren doesn’t know what to focus on.
Still watching the camera, you shake your head back and move one hand to Jean’s throat, clenching it to hear him groan out with pleasure and pain beneath you, your face scrunching up as you slam yourself down onto his dick. 
It’s rough and wet with sounds that fill Eren’s ears, and Jean’s hand comes down like a whip to smack your ass, a boob filling his face as you arch up with each smack, girlish moans escaping free. 
Eren can taste salt in his mouth, and blood from biting down on the inside of his cheek, and he almost screams out about how unfair life is because qpids are there and he is here, when you bow your head to Jean and shiver.
“I wanna cum, Jean,” you beg. “Please, baby.”
Jean cocks his head with sudden kindness. “Okay. I’ll let you cum. Cum for me, cum around my dick.”
Threefold sounds fill the remaining seconds; you cry out with relief and pleasure as you spill cum around Jean’s dick, the white substance trickling down the running vein that pulses and Jean stuffs his face in your neck, and Eren back home yells out with abused satisfaction, closing his eyes as his own relief spills out on his stomach and bedsheets, his fingers soaked with his own cum. 
He breathes in the fantasy of seeing his own cum pouring out of you, the way Jean does once you’ve fucked yourself tired on top of him, and he lifts you up by your thighs to marvel as the sliding semen down your legs, clumped in your hole, dripping like a tap. 
Jean’s dick vibrates between his legs and twitches at the sight. He doesn’t show the audience. They don’t deserve to see you. They don’t deserve to see what he’s done to you.
Jean doesn’t even say goodbye; he lets the audience and his girlfriend catch their breath before he smiles down at you, adoringly, praises your hard work and shuffles himself towards the camera, where the sight of his shit-eating grin leaves Eren with a prickle of hot frustration that hurts when the video rolls to an end, with no flashy end credits or promotion. Just a black screen with his own idiot reflection staring back at him.
Eren needs more. His dick hurts and his head throbs, but he needs more- he physically needs to see more. His hands tremble as he clicks on qpids' profile, observing the fifteen videos you have public. He doesn’t need to watch them all tonight, saving them for his lonely evenings, but he does click on “creampie in my girlfriends cute pussy”.
He knows it’s worth the overstimulation when he gets five minutes in and sees you squirt, unexpectedly, onto Jean’s face and the bedsheets. Aside from the view and the surprised gasp that is ripped from your mouth, Eren hears Jean’s throaty chuckle up close and personal, and he sees Jean’s cocky smirk now that the boy has set the camera to the side, giving Eren a beautiful view of your cunt and the side of Jean’s wet face.
He doesn’t know what to do with himself when Jean manoeuvres himself back between your legs and thrusts, the sight of your cock-filled hole and the curve of Jean’s toned ass filling his screen. Jean cums noisily; he groans gruffly, sounding intimidating and the blood rushes to Eren’s cock and he cums unexpectedly, missing the grand finale of when Jean pulls out after filling you up with his cum.
He grins to himself and moves the camera so everybody can see how pretty it looks; Eren stares, milking his own high, looking at how Jean’s cum leaks out of you slowly. You’re filled with it, the dried mess staining your skin and your body rising with deep and heavy breaths. It’s pink and abused, your hole wide and clenching almost with each breath. 
Jean’s hand comes into view, the other holding the camera shakily, and he pulls apart your lips to show the sight clearly. His fingertip curls around the substance and as you lift yourself up onto your elbows, Jean switches for two fingers, lapping up the escaping cum and shoving it right in your mouth and on your tongue.
Eren cums again. It’s the third time he’s came this evening, and it’s the first time he’s ever added a channel to his favourites.
He’s not sure what it is about qpids that makes him feel so fucking good, but when Jean heaves himself down next to you and flips the camera, showing the unfair gorgeousness of the pair of you fucked out next to each other, your hair slightly in Jean’s mouth, Eren knows he wants more. He needs more. He doesn’t care if Sasha calls him sad, but, Eren knows that there is nothing on Earth that can cure the want and need he has for qpids.
Jean grins to the camera, looking at you against the sheets and Eren can see in his eyes the way he is so in love with you. You smile too, kissing his lips and curling up against his neck and the last thing Eren sees before his own dumb reflection again is Jean smirking at the audience before leaving. Jean knows what he has and how lucky he is. 
Eren isn’t sure how to feel when he realises that he’ll never have what you and Jean have. He feels empty and pathetic with his cock out and a black screen looking at him.
He’s not sure who he’s jealous of. Jean, for getting to stuff his fat cock into your hole and seeing you, hearing you, feeling you on a daily basis. Or you, for getting fucked relentlessly and lovingly by the best looking man he thinks he has ever seen. Maybe it’s both.
(It’s definitely both.)
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inkweaver22-blr · 3 years
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Here’s chapter eight! Just a short little bit of fluff for you all today! Hope you enjoy!
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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Eight: A Magical Morning
Tang wakes up in someone's arms. The resulting morning is nice.
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He was alone in the dimly lit cave. The voices, much less frantic but still persistent, called out his name. The golden-yellow light enveloped him
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Tang awoke slowly feeling warm and comfortable. He hummed in content as he snuggled into the arms of whoever was holding him. It seemed he was already in a relationship this cycle. That was nice.
The scholar took in a breath and caught the scent of the other person. Peaches and earth.
Sun Wukong.
This certainly wasn’t the first time he had been with the immortal monkey romantically. He actually became rather fond of him once he experienced the Monkey King’s softer side. Tang mused that it was hard not to when the cycles seemed to pair them together almost as often as they did with him and Pigsy.
He listened to Wukong’s gentle breathing for a few moments, enjoying the quiet moment of peace.
He supposed he should start his remembering ritual and see what this timeline had in store for him, but he really didn’t want to wake his partner by getting up. He could do it in bed, but that never got him as much details as reciting his memories in front of a mirror. Oh well, he could get a more accurate accounting of them later. He was much too comfortable to be bothered by it right now.
He focused.
He was the immortal monk Tripitaka. Unsurprising as half the time he was together with Wukong that was the case. He’d better start getting reaccustomed to being referred to by that name.
He had given up on reincarnation at the end of the Journey and entered into a relationship with Wukong, much to the monkey’s delight. Tripitaka smiled at the memory of Wukong’s reaction when he had agreed to be his partner in this cycle. MK’s happy stimming had nothing on the fifteen straight minutes of running and acrobatics the ecstatic Monkey King had displayed.
It had been three hundred years since the sealing of Demon Bull King and the pair had been living peacefully on Flower Fruit Mountain ever since.
Tripitaka blinked as he became a bit more awake at that. It had been five hundred years since the sealing when the staff had been pulled in the original timeline. That meant there was still two hundred years before anything he knew would happen would, well, happen.
That… was quite a lot of time.
Would the cycle even last that long? They usually only lasted the year of time from when MK became Wukong’s successor to the start of the second Journey to the West. If it did last the whole two hundred years, what would he even do in that time? He had memories of past cycles where he had lived that long, but had never personally experienced that much time passing.
Wukong shifted and pulled the monk closer to his chest.
“You’re thinking too much again,” Wukong murmured as he nuzzled the top of the scholar’s head.
“Sorry,” Tripitaka apologized softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Wukong settled back down and began to purr as he cuddled with him.
Tripitaka smiled as the vibrations from his partner’s chest soothed his worries. He had been a bit surprised to learn that most demons could purr many cycles ago, but now he couldn’t help but yearn for the comforting sensation. Thank the Heavens that Pigsy could do so as well or he’d have to wait until he was paired with Wukong to experience it again.
(That time he had been dating both demons and had gotten sandwiched between their purring had been incredible.)
The monk decided to treat this cycle as a relaxing vacation. God knew he needed one after reliving the same stressful year for countless iterations. Even if this cycle did only last a year, getting to spend it with someone he loved was more than worth it.
The Monkey King. The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Bodhisattva of Victory Through Strife. Sun Wukong.
Tripitaka hadn’t thought he would have fallen in love with the immortal monkey, but fallen he had. In the original timeline, most of his feelings towards Wukong were more along the lines of hero worship than actual fondness. But getting to see the Monkey King grow as a person through the lens of Tripitaka’s memories had been enlightening.
Seeing first hand, so to speak, the change from being an impetuous, rude, and merciless demon to a focused, kind, and respectful warrior changed his perspective on Wukong quite drastically. He wasn’t some peerless hero to be placed on a pedestal. He was a person, with all the flaws and imperfections that came with that.
Wukong was still mischievous, pulling pranks and making sarcastic jokes. He had trouble expressing his fears and doubts, having to be confronted directly if you wanted to get him to open up. He always made himself scarce whenever it was time to fold the laundry.
Yet Tripitaka, and occasionally Tang, loved him anyway. He was endlessly sweet whenever they were together. Kind and gentle and caring. Tripitaka found it amusing that one of the strongest beings on Earth or in the Heavens was actually a hopeless romantic.
Surprise kisses, thoughtful gifts, and of course endless hours of cuddling were all to be expected if you found yourself to be the subject of the Monkey King’s love. Tripitaka enjoyed every moment of it.
“We should probably get up,” the monk eventually said.
“Don’t wanna,” Wukong replied, holding Tripitaka tighter.
“Wukooooong,” Tripitaka pretended to whine, not even fighting the embrace. “We can’t stay in bed the whole day.”
“Says who?”
“Says me!”
“Well it's a good thing you're not my master anymore so I don’t have to listen to you.” Wukong opened one eye and grinned teasingly at the monk.
“Oh you asked for it now.”
Tripitaka instinctively waved his hand and a burst of magical energy pulled open the curtains, flooding the room with the soft morning light.
What.
The monk stared blankly at his hands as Wukong groaned dramatically about the sun being his mortal enemy. Quickly muttering something about relieving himself, Tripitaka extracted himself from the bed and made his way to the restroom. Luckily there was a mirror so he could go a bit more in depth in recalling this cycle’s memories.
He soon found what he had missed on his first pass-over.
Tripitaka was a budding sorcerer who was studying how to harness his innate magic in this timeline.
Well.
That certainly changed some things.
At least now he had something to fill his time if the cycle did last two whole centuries.
After finishing up and washing his hands, Tripitaka made his way back to the bedroom where Wukong was now sitting up and stretching.
“So what’s on your agenda for today, love?” The immortal monkey turned to his partner as he entered, smiling serenely.
“Hmm…” Tripitaka thought for a moment. What was he going to do? He blinked as something from a long past cycle came to him.
“I’m going to try and see if I can modify the fire repelling ward into a ritual so that people without magic can cast it,” he began slowly, getting more excited as he warmed up more to the idea. “Imagine people being able to place it on their own homes and not having to worry about them being destroyed in a fire!”
Wukong chuckled as he stepped out of bed and pulled Tripitaka into a passionate kiss. He pulled away and gazed lovingly into the monk’s eyes.
“Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you get excited over your projects?”
“Perhaps once or twice,” a now flustered Tripitaka replied. Wukong just grinned and kissed him again.
“Well I do. I love the way your eyes light up. I love the way your hands wave when you’re explaining your process. I love the way you squint at your work when something isn’t going as you thought.” The monkey pressed his forehead against the monk’s, staring passionately at him. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Tripitaka replied sincerely.
If this was what the next two hundred years were going to be like, he couldn’t wait.
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I hope the name change wasn’t too confusing for you all. If it is, I’ll switch it back.
For those confused about Tang's actions, he is NOT cheating on Pigsy here. Tang has a big heart and is certainly capable of loving more than one person at a time. So whenever he’s in a relationship with one but not the other, he loves that person romantically and the other platonically.
And if the other wants to join in, all the better!
Whenever none of them have romantic feelings for each other, that’s fine too because he still loves them no matter what.
Hundreds of years of reliving the same events allows you to get to know someone really well, and I think anyone would have difficulty NOT falling in love with them.
That’s all for now! See you next time!
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peachsayshi · 2 years
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Good Day Peache I hope your having a very wonderful day, I just came snooping in your tumblr account to shower you with compliments from one of the series that you made! :DD
I read your TWYLM(the way you love me) I first read that yesterday and I binge read it all night getting a smol amount of sleep because of how amazing and well written the story was! It's truly one of my favorite series that I have read +v+
The flow of the story was perfect, not too fast and not too slow. Where it truly takes time where FWB would turn into relationship and the small butterflies that MC was feeling as the story progress. The sudden shift of POV's from Y/N to Gojo, or the sudden revelation from the past and backstories.
Especially Where the tension that the story has was amazing especially when MC was jealous(/furious) when she found out about gojo sleeping with someone else(or Gojo seeing the stranger kissing MC), the date from Tokyo Dome city, my most favorite was when MC mentally brokedown at front of gojo— the emotions that pour out from that scene and how her tears make gojo break down his walls so fast for her(Especially the make out smex heueheuheu–)
The way how you made each character— especially Gojo Satoru And our dear MC(Y/N) was well made.
you especially didn't fail giving the smut part, it always leaves me shook and wanting more I don't even know how to explain how amazing it is lol
I'm totally looking forward for the next chapter after the cliffhanger you left—your truly such a tease author.
Anyways I hope you stay in good health and not push yourself too much. Your doing works of the God Of how amazing the series was!💜💜
Anon 🥺 first off, thank you for making me smile. I was feeling crappy until I popped in and read your message 😭 I’m giving you a big hug!! Thank you for taking the time to read the story but also definitely make sure you get some rest too!! 👀😂 I’m so flattered by your comments and I’m really happy you are enjoying the story! 🧡🧡🧡
You know I always struggled with the pacing of the story but I’m glad you think it flows well! I knew this was not supposed to exceed thirty chapters, and wanted to make sure I fit everything in nicely 😊
Gojo has the biggest soft spot for the reader and I don’t shy away from it hahah but I just thought it would be really fun to write how he would interact with a non-sorcerer love interest 👀 I’m getting into more more details from Gojo’s perspective for the next chapter 😉
Thank you so much for the sweet words again 🥺🥹 I hope you are doing well and healthy yourself, and am showering you with good energy for the rest of your day!
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callboxkat · 3 years
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Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 1/6)
Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective, plus a few new scenes. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone. Please read the warnings!
Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.
Warnings:  food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.
Word Count: 1764
Part 2 
Ao3 Link
Writing Masterpost!
...
Roman bounded down the bustling street, waving to familiar passerby as he went. He knew he was easy to pick out and very recognizable, in his white knight’s uniform. Despite the early morning, many people were already up and about, setting up for the day, but the street lamps still glowed—a recent installation, they actually ran on electricity! Roman still didn’t quite understand how that worked, but he was proud to see his settlement prospering, and it was fascinating, how much light came from them, just from a few little wires and some glass. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment involved.
“Good morning, Sir Roman,” a shopkeeper called.
Roman tabled his nerdy thoughts for the time being. He put on a bright smile and approached the shop, where a woman stood sweeping clear the welcome mat. “Good morning to you, Maryanne!”
The woman put aside the broom and dusted her hands off on her apron. “Would you like a pastry? The peaches just arrived from Mellow Valley, and they are simply delightful in a fruit tart.”
Roman hummed consideringly. “Oh, that’s very tempting, but I’m afraid I’m in a rush this morning!”
“Some other time, then. Perhaps you could even bring that handsome young man you’re always with.” She winked.
Roman really hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Of course—you know I love your treats.”
Roman was on his way to his shift guarding the outer wall, an imposing structure built of shining gray stone that protected the citizens of his home from the monsters that roamed the forest beyond. It was an important job, entrusted to the expertise of the knights, and one that Roman loved doing; but it wasn’t always the most exciting prospect. Their settlement, Old Haven, was one of the longest standing, enough so that most of the monsters had known since generations past to stay well away; and between the few times that things truly got exciting... they could be terribly dull.
But, before Roman went to his shift that morning, he had a stop to make, and this he was definitely looking forward to.
The apothecary was located just a couple of blocks from the main square, in a small, warmly colored cedar and stone building with windows filled with neatly arranged bundles of colorful herbs and evenly spaced rows of bottles of medicinal powders and potions. A hand-painted sign read, Please come in, in neat, white letters, in an only slightly decorative script.
Roman reached the shop just as the door opened, the bell overhead chiming. A customer stepped out, dressed in a dark robe with the hood up. At first glance, he seemed to be clothed entirely in black, but on closer inspection, his robe was actually a deep plum color. He clutched a bottle of pomegranate juice in one pale hand and a neatly sealed packet of herbs in the other. Dark bangs poked out from under the hood, but his face was cast in shadow. Roman frowned slightly noticing the dark, grayish veins in his hands as he stepped back to give the man room. He hurried past Roman and disappeared down the street. Roman stepped inside the apothecary once he was gone.
The apothecarist, Logan, stood behind a counter within the shop, wearing an elegant, navy colored coat and his usual pair of spectacles. He was pushing together a pile of coins on the counter. Copper and bronze coins only, Roman noticed. No silver.
“Got a lot of vampire clientele?” Roman asked, leaning (or perhaps posing) against one of the display cabinets.
Logan looked up, the warm lamplight making his deep blue irises glitter in a way that never failed to make Roman’s heart skip a beat. He glanced back down and finished tucking away the money. “Six,” he said honestly. “Seven, most likely, although she has not personally shared that information with me, and if she is, hers appears to be a mild case.”
“Hm.”
“You don’t approve?”
“Ah… they’re a little too similar to monsters, for my taste.”
“It is a monster-derived affliction, that is true, but with modern treatments, most of those afflicted with vampirism can lead nearly normal lives.”
Roman shrugged dismissingly, waving him off. He hadn’t come here to talk about vampires. “I know, I know. Anyway. How’s my favorite nerd this morning?”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Logan sighed.
“You know you love it.”
Logan did not deny it, Roman noticed with a small smile. Instead, he adjusted a few already perfectly positioned potion bottles on the counter, before saying, “I am well, although rather busy.”
Roman glanced around the room, noticeably empty of customers. “Ah yes, this is a very busy time for your shop, I see.”
“A customer did depart only moments ago,” Logan pointed out. “Although, no, I was not referring to customers. I’m preparing for an outing.”
“An outing?” Roman was interested, now. “Finally taking a little vacation, are you? Good on you. Where are you going? And more importantly—can I come?”
Logan wanted to smile, Roman could tell. But he didn’t. The guy took himself too seriously. “Not that type of outing. I require materials to restock my shop.”
Roman sighed dramatically, making it a full body motion. So much for a vacation. And the hot springs in the hills of northern Old Haven were so nice this time of year. “So? Just put it on the list for the traders. Mellow Valley should have most of your things in season by now. Did you hear the peaches arrived? Maryanne, that baker on Lilac, promised me some of her delightful pastries. We could go get some, when I’m finished with my shift on the South Wall this morning.”
Logan shook his head “Mellow Valley won’t have everything I need; and besides, the costs are considerably lessened when the materials are personally collected.”
Roman furrowed his brow. “Collected where?”
“Outside.”
“You mean outside, like, as in the park, right?”
“In the woods,” Logan sighed, beginning to sound exasperated.
Roman opened his mouth, then closed it again. The woods. The veritable ocean of dense trees beyond the settlement’s walls, filled to the brim with monsters, held back from advancing only by the strength of the guard and broken only by the occasional human stronghold and the heavily protected trails that linked them. Generally, only knights and the traders they accompanied ever ventured beyond the walls—this was, in fact, why Roman had become a knight in the first place, to get to see some of the world that most only saw through pictures and stories. Citizens were allowed to leave—they weren’t prisoners—but it was very rare, and highly discouraged. Many who went unprepared—or even those who did—never returned; and sometimes even those who did return were not the same as when they left—like the vampires who apparently frequented this shop, or at least one or more of their ancestors. Vampirism could be tricky like that. Sometimes it cropped up randomly, somewhere down the line.
Logan had begun sorting through some of his supplies, acting for all the world as if he hadn’t just announced he had a death wish.
Roman shook off his distracted thoughts of vampirism and knightly missions, and focused on the most important thing: “Please tell me you aren’t planning to go out there alone.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Logan sighed. “I will have my dagger, and I will go no further into the woods than required.”
“Oookay, first of all, why am I just now hearing that you’ve been hanging out in the monster-filled woods by yourself?”
“I would hardly call it ‘hanging out’.”
“And second of all, you are absolutely not doing that.”
Logan gave him a dry look. “Yes, I am. My herbs will not pick themselves.”
“Get a garden like a normal person.”
“You know I have a quite extensive garden.” Logan paused, looked confused. He shook his head, going back to counting bundles of tiny black seeds. “Some of these herbs do not naturally grow within human settlements, let alone ours, and my attempts to recreate their preferred environment have in many cases proven thus far unsuccessful. Besides, I cannot ‘get a garden’ to form mineral deposits, several of which are required in even non-specialty potions.”
Roman still didn’t quite see why Logan wouldn’t be able to get all of this stuff using a trader. Knowing Logan, it was less about the money and more about needing to personally ensure that he received the correct materials. Surely, though, even the least-versed in medicinal resources could get him what he needed, if he described them well enough.
Also knowing Logan, though, he would not be dissuaded from going.
Roman pulled himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest and putting one hand on the protective-charm engraved hilt of his sword. “Alright, then, I am coming with you.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming to collect herbs? Can you even tell wormwood from hemlock?”
“I’m not going to find your nerd plants, I’m going to protect you.”
Logan scoffed quietly, clearly believing Roman’s very generous and heroic offer was unnecessary. But he sat down on his stool, finally, and looked at Roman without busying himself with his apothecarist duties. He glanced Roman up and down, apparently trying to decide how serious Roman was. “Alright, then, if you insist.”
“I do!” Roman nodded firmly. He relaxed his posture. “So, when are we going?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes?”
“I—” Roman groaned, looking up towards the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Fine. It’s a little short notice, but fine.” He worked his jaw, then mumbled, “I’ll need to cancel a couple days… maybe Sir Leo can cover? Hm.”
Logan tilted his head slightly, adjusting his spectacles and watching Roman’s dramatics. “I am not forcing you to come.”
You are, though. “Well, I am.”
“Alright.”
“Alright.”
A beat passed in silence, Roman feeling triumphant, before Logan gave the knight a slightly amused look. “I thought you had a shift on the wall?”
“I—right. Yes.” Roman had gotten a little distracted. He took a couple of steps back. “So, you, me, tomorrow, woods. Great.” He turned towards the door, stopped, and turned around. “About those pastries?”
Logan hummed. “I can take a break two hours after noon, which is when your shift ends, if I remember correctly. I suppose I would accept one then.”
“They have fruit in them,” Roman encouraged. “That makes them healthy!”
“I do not believe that is entirely correct.”
Roman grinned and left the shop.
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litandroses · 2 years
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ARC Review: Peach Blossom Spring by Melissa Fu
Rating: 4★ of 5
Release Date: Mar 15, 2022
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This was without a doubt written with heart. The prose was beautiful, delicate, and somehow had a quiet feel to it. It was interesting to learn more about the subject, and as a fan of historical fiction, knowing more about a country's past is always a plus. It was difficult not to feel sympathy for the characters.
I was so glad to have picked this up. Novels like this remind me why I like this genre. Peach Blossom Spring spans 70 years and follows three generations. I love it when a book manages to be an eye-opener, which this one was undoubtedly. I knew close to nothing about WWII China, much more the Civil War. There were fables woven in the story which were somehow allegories as well, and the way the title was first used in text gave me chills. These  provided an atmosphere all on its own and set the themes. I felt like Renshu myself when it was time for another fable. The book may jump years after a few pages or a chapter but I never once felt confused by the narrative or the sudden shift in perspective; I found the writing seamless. 
As for the characters, they were all very realistic. Sometimes, I felt as tired as they did, and just as sad. When the focus started to shift towards Renshu, his unease leaked off the page and I genuinely wanted him to keep his head. The tension during his university days made me nervous I was unable to put the book down. This atmosphere wavered, then eventually eased in Lily's chapters. When her chapters increased, her relationship with her grandmother reminded me of my own (both Renshu and Lily's relationship to Meilin actually). Although Lily's chapters were those I wasn't much invested in, she was the one I understood the most. And though I am not Chinese, there were many lines in this book that resonated with me. The themes were so on point.
Peach Blossom Spring is a debut novel but it did not read like one to me. There's lots of things to think about here and whatever I was expecting prior to starting, it was not this (I mean this in a good way). I enjoyed this book a lot and would recommend!
A review copy was granted in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own. Thanks to Netgalley, Edelweiss and the publisher for the arc!
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wolfcha1k · 4 years
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An analysis on Guy, Eep and Grug NOBODY asked for in Croods - A New Age but tough shit
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help
So its theory time :U Since this trailer seems to finally go into Guy’s perspective over things happening in the story. It seems like though Guy has been accepted into the Croods family, its not peaches and cream as one would think. Guy is used to having personal space, basically being able to have peace and quiet. Now after a lifetime of solitude [srsly, how long has he been alone??], this is a big adjustment for him. I don’t doubt he doesn’t care and love the Croods like family because they are his family now, he gave up a lot for them and Eep. There’s something of a culture difference between the family and him, with the Croods being used to being jam packed together and Guy who is more used to personal space.
Look how excited he gets over having his own space once they get to the Betterman Farm!
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This also translates into his relationship with Eep. If you notice in a lot of the teasers so far, they’re never alone together. Grug is usually looming in the background or the family is there, they’re even using Chunky of all things to try getting away from them.
[also judging by the weave work here on the wood she’s probably in one of the spare rooms at the farm and the fact the clip launched with ‘World’s First Crush’, it might be safe to say even Eep starts to enjoy having privacy since this means you know, more Guy time but I’ll get more into Eep and what I think their ‘conflict’ will be later!] 
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but ofc Grug is still there getting in their way, and if you’re a teenage boy in love with a girl, it bites hard that you can’t just enjoy one on one time alone with her. They keep getting interrupted whether it be by animals, the family, Grug or nature itself; that would cause tension for anyone’s relationship. Guy even needs to explain to Eep what privacy is and knowing how she lived, ofc this is a real weird and exciting concept for someone so used to having other people breathing down her neck.  
This translates into his relationship with Grug because I personally feel this has nothing to do with Eep herself and Guy doesn’t hold that against her. Grug is mentioned in interviews that he’s “not ready to accept Eep is all grown up and has her relationship with Guy” and that “she’s ready to leave the pack”, as Grug calls it. 
They survived the end of the world, but dynamics change, and I love continuing with where do Eep (Emma Stone’s character) and Guy (Ryan Reynolds) leave off (with their romantic relationship) and how does Grug (Nicolas Cage) accept the change that his daughter is now grown up? So we definitely further those themes of a father not wanting his daughter to leave “the pack” – as they call it – but she’s ready, and her relationship with Guy starts off where it ended in the first film.
Guy even causes what seems will be quite a fight when he tells Grug to chill out after Grug mentions “the pack is stronger together”. 
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Grug probably wouldn’t be having this kind of fear if there was nothing to fear. It might be safe to say Guy and Eep are planning to leave the nest to be on their own. They’re both young adults and in love, its a natural step in a relationship to want to fly the coop. This snippet here really gives me those “engagement/promise ring” vibes with how Guy is holding the rock drawing and Eep is reacting. 
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Just what did he say before this? They’re also huddling away and discussing privacy, perhaps it was the lead up into “Hey Eep, let’s move out”, or whatever the caveman version of it is.
and Grug is watching them very worriedly. 
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There is something up going on with them now, and though Grug has accepted Guy and Eep, this isn’t a step he’s ready for as a father [and honestly probably after surviving The End/repaired his relationship with Eep, didn’t think would be coming this soon]
This segment in the interview really heavily implies these sort of things too:
The world is always changing, and families also change. As a father, Grug’s maybe not ready for the next step of his daughter leaving home. And with Eep and Guy I thought, “This is a great opportunity to now hand it off to them.” In the first movie it’s like puppy love between Eep and Guy. They meet each other, and they’re in love. But they’re the only two teenagers in the world, so of course they love each other. This story answers the question of why they actually belong to each other. Through the course of this story, we challenge what their relationship means, and why they should spend their future together.
You don’t talk about challenging what a relationship means and what their future will be without planning something surrounding that. They are planning and its freaking Grug out.
I also think in Grug’s own way he doesn’t want to see Guy go either, since it must say a lot about how different the dynamic of Guy and Grug’s relationship as a son and father figue have shifted if Guy feels he can tell Grug to calm down and also flirt/court Eep with protective daddy vision on him all hours of the day. When the Betterman’s show up, I am convinced Grug is going to get defensive over Guy bc he’s now as good as his son.
There’s also these little moments which seem pretty small but:
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[as sour as Guy looks here, it probably means a lot for Grug to actually let Guy be in their sleep pile]
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[also look how pure and excited Guy is to share about the shower with Eep and Grug]
I feel Grug does care for Guy but being how Grug is has unintentionally made Guy feel like an outsider in the Croods clan.
Now, back to the Bettermans and Guy. The lifestyle they live is clean, modernized and has routine, things Guy is probably craving with an inventive mind such as his. He’s just in heaven rn. These people are more like him than the Croods are, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. The Croods are still important to him but it probably feels invigorating to meet likeminded people.
You can already tell in the trailers Guy is going to form a bond with them. Part of me doubts they’re actually related to Guy like as parents and a sister but I won’t rule out the possibility, considering how invested Phil seems to be with Guy in a lot of the teasers and trailers. Perhaps they’re extended family or old family friends who knew Guy’s, we won’t know yet.
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This bond I feel will be the prime focus of the film and conflict as well. [and no, not in the love triangle way concerning Dawn, there’s already an interview disproving that!]
“It seems from the trailer that Kelly Marie Tran’s Dawn and Emma Stone’s Eep hit it off immediately…” There’s definitely a lane that is driven a lot in romantic comedy type things where the new girl is the cause of jealousy. With Eep and Guy, when this other girl comes into the picture it would have been easy to go, “Oh, she could be the romantic rival.” We made the purposeful decision to not go down that lane.
However I do think his friendship with Dawn will be something as a compare/contrast with how Eep treats her. Both are doing what they feel is better and right for the sheltered girl, with Eep wanting to take Dawn outside the wall and Guy getting upset when he finds out Eep took her out.
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He’s obviously going to catch them and lecture Eep about this. Now, how does Eep feel about Guy’s shift?
At first, I really think she supports him on connecting with the Bettermans and all the stuff he wants to do. Guy is quirky, he’s inventive, and likes to push the mold in what he can change to make life easier on himself and the people he loves. This place is his Utopia and considering the exchange she has with Grug over “a little change isn’t the end of the world”, she probably is willing to give the farm a chance because she knows Guy has been feeling lost and probably the butt of the joke lately [least where Grug is involved]
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We also know Eep loves to try new things, she just in general loves new. Its what attracted her to Guy and even after it all, still loves Guy. 
However, this is what I believe is going to be the start of the conflict between Eep and Guy too. Guy starts to change too much and Guy being Guy probably doesn’t realize it. She starts seeing the farm as another cave, another place to hide and seeing Guy thriving here probably makes her feel worried about what this means for them as a couple. That wall like Eep said is Dawn’s cave, and Guy probably doesn’t think of it that way after a lifetime of danger and being on the run from The End. Also the private bedroom probably helps
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Anyway, what was I saying?
also something I noticed was when they first arraive in the elevator you got Guy looking at Eep to see her reaction to this place. He’s obviously hoping she’s finding the Bettermans has amazing as he is.
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and just look how happy he looks seeing Eep isn’t going to freak out at Dawn I guess??? lol 
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Just “these two worlds are melding nicely”
However something I think is going to happen as the premises of the movie is both families settling their différences aside/celebrating them, is that somewhere along the line as Eep and Guy get closer to Dawn, there’s going to be a shift. The Bettermans perhaps act uppity with the Croods since they are cavemen and deemed less intelligent, so you got Guy stuck in the middle with his two found families trying to co-exist [also Eep too, bc her friendship with Dawn is obviously a major plot thread of the film]
Eep takes Dawn out for a joyride and the two bring in danger that followed them there.
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“What’s on the other side of the wall?”
also totally predicting some kind of reveal that makes Guy have a temporary fall out with Phil, I don’t know why but its just a vibe I’m getting. Phil looks scared and Guy looks pretty pissed off while asking about the wall. That or he says something about the Croods themselves he feels is too far, I mean, Guy looks rather uncomfortable here as Phil says “We’re an evolved people” pretty smugly. 
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“Phil those are my future in-laws, stop”
He’s also seated on their side of the table, keep note of that with the Croods on the other. There’s going to be a sense torn between both worlds going on for Guy in this film, at least I think so. And its going to challenge him and how he cares for Eep and the Croods. 
Leading into Eep and the Croods.
The big bad shows up, wrecks some shit and abducts everyone, at least it seems like it here.
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“The only way to survive is if the pack stays together”, this whole adventure reminds Guy of his place in the Croods family and gives Eep and Grug a better understanding of what Guy is feeling/going through.
People loved The Croods, and they’d been trying to make another one… but it’s a high bar. I can say this because I didn’t work on [the first film], it’s a beautiful movie. It’s funny, and it’s about family. I was like, “I want to see the continuation of where we left off with these characters.” Especially with the father/daughter aspect of the first one, and going, “Now that Grug has accepted Guy into his pack, and has this great relationship with his daughter, where do they go from there?”
Something tells me Guy and Eep have their big blow up somewhere around Rafikzilla shows up, and after getting separated, Guy has a heart to heart with Grug about Eep and just their strained relationship in general. They patch things up, and together with Phil go forth to kick some monkey ass. And they reunite and things are okay again. Blah, blah, blah. Wow this got weak near the end, um but this interview sums it up pretty good for me tho.
“Was it always the idea to introduce a second family?” Yeah, that was there in my first pitch. You have the Croods come across another family, the Bettermans, who are a more evolved family, and these two families couldn’t be more different. The Croods lead with their heart, and the Bettermans lead with their brain. Of course, there’s conflict, they face challenges, but they learn to appreciate each other’s differences – not just to live with each other’s differences but to almost celebrate them. There’s a lot going on. There’s a lot of characters in this one. There’s a lot of wonderful, powerful themes. But it’s a ridiculous comedy too.
Basically, Guy is having a midlife crisis at the age of 19 and gets his shit together, Eep gets a better understanding of her boyfriend, and Grug finally backs tf off so we can get Croods 3 where Eep and Guy have a kid :U also I’ve been calling A New Age the “Shrek 2″ of the Croods in terms of how the story seems to be shaping up with Guy, Eep and the two families, I’m hoping I’m right because that would be some delicious development to see.
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rosy-cheekx · 3 years
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"Don’t do that. don’t shut me out” and / or “We can talk through the door” - from the trauma sentence starters :)
Okay so this started as a one-off but, as usual, it spiraled outwards! The actual line will be in the next chapter. (That’s right, this bitch has two chapters! AND A PERSPECTIVE SHIFT)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201191/chapters/69105681
-
It had been hard for Martin to adjust, after the Lonely, after the months of spiraling into the quiet, cold dark, imprisoned in an ever-expanding labyrinth of his own isolation. A therapist he had years ago told him it takes three weeks to manifest a habit, and in the months without his mum, without Jon, Sasha, Tim, god without even Elias to irritate his last fraying nerve, he had time to form hundreds of new habits, his habits of loneliness.
When Peter had given him Elias’ old office, under the guise of space, focus, and mental health (Martin could spit at that looking back, the cruel irony), the room had been rearranged. The desk, which had previously sat in the center of the room, with two slightly uncomfortable chairs positioned in front of it, chairs Martin had been eager to burn in celebration of his new space, had been rearranged. The room was starkly empty, the chairs removed on his behalf, and the desk had been moved to the side of the room, out of view of the door and in fact behind the hinges, so the door swung open in front of his desk, blocking anyone who may sneak a peek in his office a view of him at work. After a while, it was natural to be in the corner of a room closest to the hinges; where the coatrack or a rubbish bin would typically be, there instead was Martin Blackwood, comfortable, solitary. Alone.
The habits expanded outside of the office. Soon enough he was shopping at markets in the quietest hours: during the airings of football matches, at the early-morning markets, at two in the morning because he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t get warm under his duvet. His warm conversations with cashiers and barkers turned to solemn nods and gruff thank-yous, the refreshing smiles they associated with the sweater-clad figure reduced to slow blinks and nods of acknowledgement, and then not even that. They didn’t even wonder what had happened to that nice auburn-haired man who worked “down the street at the old spooky building, did-you-hear-about-those-worms?” Even takeout was too much to bear. The nights where leaving his flat was unconscionable, his delivery requests would always add, “leave outside the flat, tip is under the doormat.”
His neighbors didn’t remember him after a while. Mabel, the kind woman who lived across from him, introduced herself to him, asked when he moved in. Eventually she stopped noticing this new auburn man she hadn’t seen before. Hadn’t seen at all, actually. No one lived across the hall from her, not in her memory. And she had an excellent memory, didn’t-you-know? It was all those crosswords.
Martin started locking his doors. That had been after Jon had returned. He knew that distinctly. Most of these habits loomed over his life slowly, like an ever-expanding fog, until he didn’t realize where they had begun, but the doors? That was a choice.
He wasn’t one for locks overall; his childhood home had forbidden them, save for the exterior doors. It hadn’t bothered him back then, though, and as he grew up and out of the shadow of his mother it never occurred to him that he could just shut people out like that. So easy, so simple, but so unnecessary for so long. Martin was the one breaking down those barriers, especially at the Institute. Getting Sasha to talk about her anger when they first moved into the Archives, her quiet confession that she had wanted that job for so long, had been told by Gertrude she was a promising candidate. That had been fixed with a cup of tea and the promise that he would support her if she wanted to quit, but that it seemed like Tim needed her, Jon too. Getting Tim to open up about Danny, his sorrow that had been simmering so long under the surface, a grief Martin didn’t quite know how to fathom. But he tried, with comforting touches and warm voice, trying to ease Tim back from the precipice over which he had been hovering. Not enough. Never enough. Even Jon had begun to be kinder to him, after Prentiss, after Martin had proven he wasn’t a waste of space in the Archives, begun to be honest and open about his take on the weird things they experienced here. He had even texted him rather frequently, towards the end, updating him on his trip to America and of the occasional sights that caught his eye (‘In Pittsburgh they put chips on sandwiches and salads, Martin, look at this! Image_0102 attached’ Even in text, his grammar was impeccable.) But after Jon recovered from his coma, lapse with death, whatever it had been, Martin had been too far gone. He couldn’t risk Jon bursting in, bothering him, worrying and fussing. So he’d called in a locksmith to install the simple bolt, enough to stop a distracted, harried Archivist (who had never quite learned it was polite to knock) from bursting into his office at all hours.
But after all that, after the Lonely and Peter Lukas and “look at me and tell me what you see,” it was hard to break the achingly comfortable habits. For the first few days in Scotland, Martin didn’t really remember what had happened. While out of the domain itself, he was still trapped in its cloying embrace, and everything felt too real, too looming, too much; it had been easy to slip into silence for hours in Daisy’s safehouse. Too easy to pull the fog around him and watch himself sit, drawn up behind the door, as he watched and listened and waited for Jon to forget about him. It had never happened though. No matter how many hiding places he found, cold and dark and solitary, Jon always found him, blanket and tea in tow (always a little too sweet for Martin’s liking), and his scalding embrace was enough to drag him back to reality, shivering and sweating, whispering apologies.
-
They needed supplies. Daisy had left behind plenty of MREs in her pantry, stuff they could theoretically rely on, but it was all very basic nutritionary needs and both Martin and Jon were vegetarians, (more or less, Martin had stopped eating red meat as a teenager and Jon entirely after working in the Archives) and the dehydrated pasta alfredo was gone, seemingly the only vegetarian item in Daisy’s stock. Martin hadn’t even tried to touch the canned fruit, the orange-yellow of the peaches haunting him.
Martin suspected it was also a desperate attempt for the pair to practice feeling normal again. To be just two friends? Companions? Coworkers? Boyfriends? people stocking up their fridge and going on with a normal, non-horror filled life. A secluded, bare safehouse was certainly not helping them adjust any quicker, though neither man had dared leave quite yet, be it the risk of losing what little security they had accrued here or the inability to leave the other alone quite yet.
“Is-Do you know if it’s busy today?” Martin had asked, trying desperately to shape his voice into calm curiosity.
Jon considered the question for a minute, expression soft, and dear lord Martin wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the way Jon’s shadows seemed to darken and solidify when he Learned, his whole form shifting in and out of focus imperceptibly like the background was blending into him and not the other way round, the way Martin was accustomed.
“Mm, not bad. No one interesting. A couple families shopping for the week, twelve customers, four employees, total-oh, fourteen, mum and son just walked in…” Martin’s eyebrow was raised. “Ah,” Jon cleared his throat. “Sorry. Fourteen people. If that’s too many, I can go by myself, you know. I’m not going to force you.”
“N-no, no. I should go. Exposure therapy, right?”
Jon had smiled warmly and tentatively rested a hand on Martin’s shoulder, before sliding the hand, scarred and calloused, to squeeze Martin’s own cold one.
-
The grocery was small, a locally run place playing tinny jazz through the speakers. As Martin stepped through the doors with Jon, he was struck by how warm it was in the store. He could feel the prickle of anxiety burning under his skin, bringing a flush to his cheeks. He could hear the whine of the electric lights piercing his skull and settling behind his eyes. He gripped the trolley’s handle tight, firmly keeping his eyes forward. He was fine, he could do this.
Martin was not fine. They had worked their way through the aisles quickly, Jon using his Knowledge to figure out where every item they needed had been located. Martin was on autopilot, quietly steering the cart and flinching when anyone came to close to him. The heat of life was radiating off everyone in the store, even Jon, and it was scalding, blinding, debilitating. He hadn’t noticed Jon asking him a question until, Jon carefully, gingerly, brought his hand to hover near Martin’s cheek, not touching, just waiting for a response.
“Martin?” he heard distantly, calling him back to reality, where fog didn’t drift over the aisles and the soft rush of waves didn’t echo in his ears.
“-mm?” The hand was gone, his skin tingled with the rush of cold returning to his face. He wished it would come back, to hold his face and promise it would be alright.
“I was wondering what tea you wanted to buy? I’m no expert and I know you have your preferences. I miss-” Jon cleared his throat. “I’ve missed your tea in the Archives. All the staff drank coffee after you left. Disgusting.”
Tea. This was something Martin could do. He took a step away from the trolley, his life raft, and studied the aisles, trying to will his mind to focus.
Tea, tea, tea. Rooibos and chamomile for sleepless nights. Herbal for variety. Jon likes caffeinated teas. Maybe some chai? That’ll be good when it gets really cold…god how long will we be here? Through winter? Forever? He could stay here forever if it meant Jon was there too.
He grabbed a couple of boxes of familiar brands, throwing them in the trolley, as well as whatever felt familiar, what he’d usually pick up.  
“I thought you didn’t like oolong.”
Martin frowned, glancing down at the box in his hand. “I don’t. Uh, force of habit I guess.” He set the box back quickly, as if it was burning his hand. “M’mum liked it so I would pick it up for her. Guess its been a while…” he trailed off, uncertain of what he was about to say. He’s bought tea since she died, hasn’t he?
He thinks back, through all his months in Elias’s office and at home.
Oh. Guess not.
Had he really not drunk tea at all? God, he had really changed more than he thought under the influence of Peter. Tea had been such a staple of his life, his personality, he was the one dragging Jon and Sasha and Tim to teahouses for his birthday and insisting he make a cuppa for everyone on the days that felt too dark. The last time he could remember holding a warm cup of tea in his hands was when he was sitting at Jon’s bedside in the hospital, reading him Keats in the desperate hope he would hate it so much he would wake up, even if just to scold his assistant.
Martin knew serving The Lonely had changed him. But here, in the aisle of a Scottish grocery, he was realizing how entirely debased he had become. Was he even Martin Blackwood anymore?
Martin blinked to see the grocery around him cloaked in fog. No, that wasn’t right. He was cloaked in fog. The world was a pale blue-grayscale, slightly translucent. He hadn’t been here in a while but the cool balm over his anxiety settled like cool cloth and he felt distantly quiet. Calm.  He left the store in a haze and began the slow trudge up to the safehouse. Jon wasn’t here in this place, which was probably for the best. Martin couldn’t hurt him here, couldn’t burden him with whatever pesky emotions he had felt in the grocery, whatever they had been. They were a distant memory now, oolong and guilt.
-
By the time Martin had hiked up the hill to the safehouse, he felt safe enough to leave the Lonely, and felt the cool numbness drift off him like steam as the world sharpened around him. With the world came the sharp sting of his realization came with it; the understanding that he wasn’t the same person he had been when he had said goodbye to Tim, Melanie, and Jon, and certainly not the same person he had been when he had backed through the doors to the Institute and let that dog in, what felt like decades ago now.
Martin Blackwood let the door swing shut behind him as he made his way inside, hearing the rumble of Jon’s car rolling up the gravel driveway. He moved quickly through the house, looking desperately for a place to escape as he heard the faint call of his name outside. He couldn’t-he just couldn’t talk to Jon right now; he didn’t know how to explain how betrayed he felt and by on fault but his own. The closest room was the bathroom, dark and clean, and pressed back against the door as he clicked the door shut, turning the latch on the door.
Click.
The bolt slid into the mechanism of the door frame, and that sound was what sent Martin spiraling.
he was alone he was alone he was alone.
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