#accidentally learning how ruling works
Feel like Nyx would be the nephew that sneaks away to his aunt's house in the middle of the night and stay there for like a week straight because they are his favourites, and neither Eris or Nesta questions it when he shows up out of nowhere because they do love him but Feysand are so terrified of what they might say to their precious child but really, Nesta is the only one who treats Nyx like he didn't fall out of the sky and is entitled to have anything he wants.
Oh god yes
Baby Night Night has never had a god damned chance- that kid is equal, damaging parts unbelievably sheltered/spoiled and just like....trapped in a long shadow of expectation.
And his Autumn relatives don't cosset him!
Like, the first time he runs away he's like...hmmm...sixteen? Angry. And Neris are fine with anger. But that teen angst bullshit? No. They put the kid to work.
And while work is just helping Auntie Elain bake her wife a birthday cake, she makes him do the dishes. Without using his powers. Eris takes him along to meetings and makes him sit through all the boring bullshit that entails.
But- afterward, Eris explains what happened. Like they're equals. He asks what baby Night Night thinks. Auntie Em likes her cake so much she hugs him, like he's a little kid. It's nice.
It's actually...making him feel better.
And sure, Auntie Nesta is grouchy and terrifying. But she's no where near as bad as Night Night's parents make her out to be. Sure, she's using blood magic, but it's alchemy. Yes, she's really, really busy, just like Uncle Eris, probably too busy for kids like his mom says, so much so Night Night has to assume they're making time for him- which makes him feel...warm? kind of ashamed?- but she doesn't leave him alone.
She's there, and it's pretty funny to see how happy it makes Uncle Eris to listen to her complain about boring government policy.
When Night Court lackeys eventually show up thinking Nyx has been kidnapped- well, lil baby boy comes to understand a little bit why Eris and all the Aunts like how mean Auntie Nesta can be. She sends home the royal guard in tears- and then tells Nyx he can stay as long as he wants, but he has to tell his parents he's safe.
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“The bank effect and the big boat blocking the Suez“
text version under the readmore
By Brendan Greeley.
The hardest thing about teaching someone how to drive a boat is that it’s not at all like driving a car. To steer a car, you turn the wheel until your nose is pointing where you want to go, then you straighten out and go there. This works because the car is attached to the road. It’s when the car itself is no longer attached to the road that things get weird. When you turn too hard, for example, the rubber in your tyres loses purchase on the street, and you are “in drift”. The normal rules no longer apply.
When you drive a boat, you are always in drift. You are attached to nothing. Stuff happens in the water beneath you that does not make any intuitive sense. Sometimes your stern (your tail) moves faster than your bow (your nose), and in a different direction. Sometimes both stern and bow are moving in the same direction at the same speed, but it’s not the direction the bow is pointed. On a boat, you don’t always go where you’re pointed.
On Wednesday, the Golden-Class container ship Ever Given made an unplanned berth in the sand on both sides of the Suez Canal, stopping trade between Europe and Asia. Evergreen Marine, which operates the Ever Given under a Panamanian flag, told the Financial Times in an email that the ship was “suspected to have met with a sudden gust of strong wind, which caused the ship’s body to veer from its course and accidentally run aground”. At press time the ship was still where it came to rest, tended by several tugs. It may be there for a while; you can check for yourself on VesselFinder.
It’s hard to describe what happened as a “grounding”, though. Container ship groundings are not unheard of in the Suez Canal. Sand comes up from the canal floor at a 4:1 ratio; if a ship drifts out of the fairway, it’s most likely to dig a shoulder into that sand and wait for a tug. Last March the OOCL Japan, a container ship about the size of the Ever Given, had a mechanical failure in the Suez Canal, lost steering, took the ground, was refloated in several hours and continued on its way.
[image: Changes to the cross-section of the Suez Canal over time © Suez Canal Authority]
That’s not what happened on Wednesday. The Ever Given had been part of a northbound convoy, still at the southern end of the canal. That section is lined with riprap — stacked boulders on the side of a waterway. Riprap is supposed to catch waves and protect sand and mud from erosion. It is not supposed to catch boats.
But the Ever Given has punched through the riprap at a steep angle, and wedged its bow bulb in the soft sand beyond it. This was not a grounding. It was a walling.
It certainly was windy along the Suez Canal. According to Meteoblue, which provides weather data to apps and corporate clients, winds peaked above 30mph at the Suez Protectorate on Wednesday, not far from the Ever Given. Most harbours would fly a small craft advisory at that speed. But it wasn’t unprecedented. Wind peaked above 30mph twice in 2020 at the same location, in March and again in May.
A gust of wind is by definition an accident, an act of God we all understand. It makes sense, in a car-like way: you think you’re pointed one way. Then something hits you, and you’re pointed another. But the initial explanation offered by Evergreen steps gingerly around another possible reason: Ever Given is a very large boat. And very large boats in confined channels do not move in car-like ways.
On Wednesday afternoon Alphaville spoke to Evert Lataire, head of the Maritime Technology Division at Ghent University in Belgium. He had spent his day looking at a VesselFinder video of Ever Given’s track through the canal for the same reason Alphaville went digging: honestly, what is more exciting than a major shipping disaster with no reported injuries or oil spilled? Lataire studies hydrodynamics, the science of how liquids exert forces as they move.
Sailors talk about hydrodynamics the way CEOs talk about macroeconomics: they either treat it with mystical reverence, or they claim to understand it and are wrong. Unlike with macroeconomics, though, if you know what you’re doing you can test the propositions of hydrodynamics on actual, physical models in a lab. As in: you build little boats and then you drag them through the water, in a towing tank. Hydrodynamics is what a five-year old would do, if a five-year old had a PhD.
Lataire works with Flanders Hydraulics Research at what he calls the world’s most accurately constructed shallow-bottom tow tank. He’s currently helping build an even bigger tank, to generate more data for a ship simulator to certify pilots. The tanks are shallow-bottomed, because hydrodynamics in shallow water are different. When a boat moves through the water, it pushes the water out of the way — it displaces it. “Where the water needs to be displaced, in a deep ocean it can go under the ship and that’s not a problem,” says Lataire. “But if it needs to go into shallow water, like the Suez, the water simply cannot go under and around.”
The Suez Canal is basically just a 24m-deep ditch dug in the ground to let the ocean in. When a ship comes by and displaces the water, the water has nowhere to go; it gets squeezed in between the ship’s hull and the floor and the sides of the ditch. A ship in a canal can squat, for example — it can dig its stern into the water. When water gets squeezed between a ship’s hull and a sand floor, it speeds up. As water flow speeds up, its pressure drops, pulling the hull down to fill the vacuum. The effect is more pronounced at the stern, and so the ship settles into a squat: bow up, stern down.
Lataire wrote his dissertation on a similar phenomenon as a ship passes close to a bank: the bank effect. The water speeds up, the pressure drops, the stern pulls into the bank and, particularly in shallow water, the bow gets pushed away. Stern one way, bow the other. A boat that had been steaming is suddenly spinning. It’s a well-identified phenomenon; in 2009 Ghent University’s Shallow Water Knowledge Centre put together a whole conference about it. Clever pilots on the Elbe, according to Lataire, will use it to shoot around a bend.
However: the more water a ship displaces, the stronger the effect. And the closer the side of the hull is to the shore, the stronger the effect. The bigger the ship, the faster the bow shoots away from the bank.
Most of the research and design on ship hulls goes into efficiency and stability at sea. But at sea is not where the Ever Given got stuck. And ships have gotten big, fast, which means the consequences of shallow-water hydrodynamics are changing by the year. In 2007, Lataire points out, the biggest container ships carried 8,000 containers. Some ships are now close to 25,000 containers. The Ever Given, finished by Imabari Shipbuilding in Japan in 2018, carries just over 20,000 containers.
By any historical standards, the Ever Given is a monster. But it’s a monster in a specific way: it’s fat. The more containers you can stack on a single ship, the cheaper the marginal cost of each new container. But the specific engineering of container ships mean that they can’t get longer; they have to get wider. An oil tanker is a shoe box with a lid: hull on the bottom, oil in the middle, deck on top. But a container ship is a shoebox without a lid: hull on the bottom, then containers all the way up. It’s not as strong without the lid.
There are definitely hydrodynamic forces in the open ocean, it’s just that the ocean is usually in charge of them. And the biggest stress on a ship’s hull in heavy weather happens along the longitudinal bending moment — lengthwise, between the bow and the stern. The longer a ship gets, the worse the stress gets when a wave pushes up in the wrong place. As far as length goes for container ships, “we are at the limitations of welding and steel quality,” says Lataire. “I will not say that it is impossible to weld thicker plates, but in a way this is the economic limit.”
So container ships can’t get longer, and they can’t stack any more containers fore and aft. Instead, they stack them taller. And wider. Container ships haven’t become monster long; they’ve become monster beamy. Ever Given, for example, is too beamy for the Panama Canal. This is why we need big towing tanks in Belgium dragging tiny models of container ships through the water to figure out what happens: we keep making bigger ships, but we’re still learning how big ships work.
So now you understand why Evert Lataire spent the morning looking at a YouTube video of Ever Given’s location on VesselFinder. The trouble starts around 0:10. The ship is moving north, with westerly winds — they are coming from the ship’s left, pushing it to the right. To compensate, the ship has adjusted its heading to the left, into the wind, to make sure the combination of screw and wind continue to push it at the correct bearing, towards the Mediterranean. Sometimes in a boat, if you are getting pushed right, you need to head left to go straight.
Then, around 0:14, the ship lurches left, into the wind. Lataire thinks there might have been not a gust, but a temporary lull, meaning the Ever Given was overadjusted to its left, moved to the left, and its beamy hull began to hug the windward bank. Then everything happens quickly, in a way that looks a lot like the bank effect. Bow shoots away from the bank. Stern continues to hug the bank and move north. Ship spins. Bow bulb punches through the riprap.
Trade comes to a halt. Wind definitely played a role, but there was probably something else happening, too. The ships keep getting bigger. But everything on Earth stays the same size.
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• 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 •
all works are works of fiction & i do not own any rights. all works are for entertainment purposes. you do NOT have any permission to COPY, RE-POST, or TRANSLATE my stories. eighteen plus ONLY — minors do NOT interact.
♡︎ — personal favourite.
organized — oldest to newest.
— stranded — dadsbestfriend!bucky | 18+
when your car breaks down on the side of the road and your dad can’t come rescue you, he sends the next best thing. ♡︎
— 12 am rendezvous — dadsbestfriend!bucky | 18+
car sex with bucky.
— someone like me — dadsbestfriend!bucky | 18+
you’ve never dated anyone who didn’t think period sex was gross. that is, until bucky came into your life.
— 100° — dadsbestfriend!bucky | 18+
when your a/c craps out on the hottest day of the year, your dad suggests you ask bucky to look at it. ♡︎
— forever — alpha!dbf!bucky | 18+
bucky helps you through an expected heat. ♡︎
— forbidden fruit — dadsbestfriend!bucky | 18+
you attempt to set your ex’s things on fire. bucky has a better idea.
— lemonade — neighbour!bucky | 18+
a new city, a new house, a new life, & a new hot neighbour who just so happens to be really good with his hands. ♡︎
— when world’s collide — roommate!bucky x reader x mickey henry | 18+
your roommate happens to be bucky, so it’s no surprise you end up fucking on the side. but when a mysterious stranger moves in right across the hall, you can’t help but be greedy for both.
— grumpy — tfatws!bucky | 18+
bucky gets his first blowjob in seventy years. ♡︎
— swipe right — tfatws!bucky | 18+
the world of online dating can be daunting. bucky learns quickly that it’s not all that easy — until he meets you and swears it was all worth it.
— stress relief — librarian!bucky | 18+
they say an orgasm reduces stress—bucky puts that to the test. ♡︎
— messy — dilf!bucky | 18+
being a teacher means you encounter many dilf’s.
— dead of night — ws!bucky | 18+
you disclose your biggest fantasy; to be fucked by the winter soldier.
— mr. brightside — ex’s!dad!bucky | 18+
the one where you fuck your ex’s dad.
— dilf practice — soon to be dilf!bucky | 18+
baby making sex with your husband. ♡︎
— sweet & salty — biker!fuckboy!bucky | 18+
you & bucky had never gotten along, but when your ex-boyfriend ransom turns up at the same bar you’re at, bucky goes to every length to protect you.
— pretty boy — bestfriend!bucky | 18+
"friendship is the purest love.” ♡︎
— fuck you (derogatory) — tfatws!bucky | 18+
a ruined mission turns to you & bucky fucking it out. ♡︎
— happy accident — dadsbestfriend!bucky | 18+
an accidental nude turns out to be the best mistake of your life.
— the little red flashing light — roommate!bucky | 18+
bucky asks you to help him make a sex-tape for his twitter account.
— clandestine | part two — neighbour!bucky | 18+
you have it all— the nice car, the huge house, and the cheating husband. now all you need is a way out.
— speckled | part two | part three — dadsbestfriend!bucky | 18+
when your boyfriend dumps you over text you end up at bucky’s door. ♡︎
— the feelings mutual | part two — roommate!bucky | 18+
the amount of times you and bucky have seen each other masturbating is alarmingly high. might as well do it together. ♡︎
— fake boyfriend real orgasms — roommate!bucky | 18+
when your roommate, bucky, begs you to be his fake girlfriend to his best friends wedding, you eventually say yes with some rules. but rules are set only to be broken. [IN PROGRESS]
— the bodyguard — bodyguard!bucky | 18+
bucky barnes, a six foot five retired russian spy, is hired and tasked with the duty of being your personal bodyguard. what he doesn’t realize is how attached to you he gets. [ON HIATUS]
— a series of bucky’s firsts — tfatws!bucky | 18+
bucky gets to experience his firsts with you. [IN PROGRESS]
— 3 am | part two — fuckboy!bucky | 18+
he won’t ever say i love you, but he’ll always fuck you until you can’t stand.
— suite 8 — mob!bucky | 18+
bucky barnes is an illustrious mobster. with almost all of new york city under his control. you’re an entertainer at the most exclusive club in the state, suite 8, and lucky enough to be mr. barnes’ favourite. the world of money, sex, and crime isn’t new to you, but what you don’t realize is how far bucky will go to protect you.
dark & taboo.
— dreams where you murdered me — tws!bucky | 18+
the plan was simple. get in, get out, and always remember rule number three; no one gets hurt.
— netherworld — hades!bucky | 18+
they say that evil lurks in the forest, but you’d never expected to be faced with him.
— innocence — priest!bucky | 18+
you didn’t want to be innocent anymore so you decide to confess your sins to father barnes in hopes of him helping you.
— left gasping for air — tfatws!bucky | 18+
doused with sex pollen, you & bucky are met with a difficult decision. ♡︎
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Hello Mr. Gaiman,
I’ve been an ardent reader for most of my life, and you’re one of my favourite writers as I’m writing to you (otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this). And as an aspiring writer myself, I may have a few questions for you:
Firstly, do you think that a great author requires to get a higher education to become so? You’re more or less the only author whom I know that they haven’t attended any of the ‘fancy’ schools (such as Oxford and the like), but who managed to write amazing pieces of literature (such as my personal favourite, Good Omens), and I was wondering if just being a passionate reader (and essentially learning how to write from other authors) is just enough?
Secondly, my module tutor at University told me that it’s always important to write for others, not ourselves (as I am also working towards my goal to become a writer myself - albeit I don’t know if I’d ever make it big), because otherwise our writing may suffer in the future from the ‘self-insert syndrome’ as they have described it. Isn’t writing for ourselves mainly what most authors did, anyway?
Thirdly, this is more of a personal question, so I understand if you wouldn’t like to give any details. Just like you have teamed up with Terry Pratchett for Good Omens, are you planning to collaborate with another author for a new book in the future? If so, do you have anybody in mind, or are you waiting for a writer to approach you?
Considering all of this, I must thank you for your attention, and I must thank you for all the work that you’ve done. You are one of the authors that inspired me to take this path in life.
Well, the only other author you mention in your ask, Terry Pratchett, left school when he was 17 too, and learned on the job. I think the important thing is that you read and that you write.
Secondly, I always like to have a reader in mind, even if the reader is usually just me in an alternate universe where I get to read this thing instead of writing it. Communication is important. But I’m not sure it’s much of a rule, and it doesn’t seem like one that will help your writing.
Thirdly no, no plans. Good Omens happened almost accidentally. I’m collaborating with the brilliant John Finnemore on the scripts for Good Omens 2, which is wonderful because he writes so well and frustrating because we are on the other side of the world and it’s harder to work together.
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Astro Observations 7
💖 - Sun in 7th house can attract a lot of enemies because the 7th house rules over gossip, rumors, other people & open enemies. Naturally with the Sun in your 7th house you will be the center of gossip and people will be jelous of how much you shine, the attention you get, and how many friends you have.
🐩 - I believe your I.C (Imum Colei/4th house) is actually one of the most important places where you can find your shadow side or alter ego. It rules our emotional roots, how we were raised, and the hidden emotions we experience in private that no one else sees but our families. Therefore I think you can learn a lot about self improvement and character development within this house, as well as your unexpected traits others get to know once they're close to you.
💜 - Pisces risings can often have unexpected enemies or frenemies online because Aquarius is usually in their 12th house. Technology and friends is associated with Aquarius, and the 12th house rules over hidden enemies. This especially is prominent if you have have Chiron in Aquarius 12th house.
🦢 - The most intimidating rising signs are Aries and Capricorn. Being ruled by Mars for Aries, and Saturn for Capricorn. They have this sense of authority when walking into a room that others can't help but notice. You never want to piss them off and people often fear looking stupid in front of them or accidentally disrespecting them. They also usually have the sharpest and most defined features.
✨ - Although Scorpio moons are seen as intense and obssessive emotionally, I find once they burst or have had enough they often detach themselves and turn ice cold. They usually cut off social interaction as well and keep others at a distance when they've gone through an emotional breakdown. This is probably because they're either paranoid and have trust issues or simply they just can't handle it anymore. They also absolutely hate looking vulnerable. I see this a lot actually :(
💖 - If you have a lot of Cardinal placements in your chart, especially the rising sign. You may often find others struggle to keep up with you and you don't like to wait for others. This might make you more impatient but overall you feel 10 steps ahead of everyone. You're always the first to take action on an idea and if others can't follow then so be it, you will still go after what you want💖
🦭 - Leo placements dislike lazy people. I've noticed this a lot now especially the venus/mars! But in order to be their friend you need to be just as ambitious and passionate as them. They need to see you work hard for what you want in life and honestly I think its a turn on for them.
💜 - Scorpio mercuries make really good liars, they're naturals at concealing the truth. However they usually do this with intent and reason, wether its for your own good or theirs.
🐻❄️ - Pisces moons also lie a lot, except they're usually bad at it or genuinely believe what they're telling you. Either way I've seen more Pisces moons lie than any other astrological placement tbh. I also notice they like to lie for fun sometimes? Either way they're usually the least suspected because of their innocent demeanor.
✨ - Scorpio risings tend to have the best aesthetics imo. This is because Libra is in their 12th house and they naturally grasp aesthetics & moodboards as a natural talent. Its like their unconscious mind just knows what to do and lay out it out perfectly to convey any message or feelings they please with their Scorpio rising. Truly an under-rated placement for aesthetics🖤
💖 - Mars in the 12th house may hate getting out of bed or struggle to sleep because of their active imagination and dreams. They often have nightmares too. I find they just usually don't want to move out of their bed lol? They are passionate about their naps and sleep, they will trade it for nothing lol. They also hate sharing their bed and are very protective over their stuffed animals. Don't . touch . their . bed. PERIOD LOL
🐩 - Leo risings are often picky eaters because Virgo is in their 2nd house and Capricorn is in their 6th house. So naturally they will have high standards about their food and may even nit pick what people cook for them (BAD LOL DONT STOP NOO). I'm not saying every Leo rising does this because I don't, but if I had to think of one placement that does this it would be a Leo rising. They're also very picky about their clothes and material items! Usually they like higher quality items too! Definitely a placement that's into designer fashion.
💜 - Gemini moons are the best texters I've ever met, they're so quick at responding and often talk to their friends when they're sick or unwell because communication genuinely helps them feel better. It's the same with writing too.
🦭 - Now for the worst texters it's going to be Sagittarius & Earth placements. These guys are the ghosters and texting tends to drain them. Sagittarius placements rather be somewhere else living their life or having some time to themselves. While earth placements are usually monotonous responders and don't really like to text unless there's a point. Earth placements and Sagittarius are the type to enjoy phone calls or in person conversations much more!
✨ - Gemini placements don't like anything that's too easy for them, they easily get bored and like to figure out people and situations. If you have a crush on a Gemini placement let them figure you out first they genuinely enjoy the process and thrill of it like a guessing game lol.
💖 - Aries moons often have sibling rivalries, this is because a soft emotional planet being ruled by Mars will make them competitive, maybe to even win the approval of others. Although they have a idgaf attitude I do see them competing for others attention often. I think this has to do with their mom naturally being competitive and they may have been compared to their siblings a lot from that classic "I must be first" Aries attitude embedded into their family dynamic.
☃️ - Virgo placements are usually very awkward, even more so than Aquarius. I notice this in especially Virgo risings and venus. It's as if they don't know how to convey their thoughts in social situations without nit picking themselves apart in the process LOL this is also why they stutter often. Virgos in social situations are like fish out of water = send help LMFAO
💜 - Another Gemini observation but all Gemini suns I've met are super clingy? It's the complete opposite of their stereotype but they really rely on their friends and want to be around them at all times or else loneliness kinda just eats them up 🥺.
🦢 - Venus in Aries are super impulsive shoppers, istg y'all see a sale sign and you go wild 😂 you're also usually not the best at managing money unless it's in an earth house. You see something shiny and you fight for it LMFAOO I do not want to see you guys on black friday or any big holiday sales if I want to live to see my future💀💀😂
That's all! It's been a while since I last wrote these and they're super fun! I hope you guys have a great day/night!🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💜💜💜
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honey | georgenotfound
summary: george needs stress relief. a camgirl who goes by “honey”, who has a voice that lives up to her name, is the answer to all of his problems.
warnings: nsfw content — graphic descriptions of sex, cyber sex, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, minors dni!
pairing: georgenotfound x f!reader
word count: 3,972
a/n: my first official one shot on here!!
George is starting to think the universe is out to get him. After finally finding the motivation to edit a video he'd filmed three weeks ago, it had ended up going wrong in every possible way. He wasn't happy with the way it was recorded, he couldn't figure out what music to use, and it had turned out his audio kept cutting out. To top it all off, he had ended up accidentally deleting all of the footage off of his hard drive. Then, just when he thought it couldn't get worse, an email had appeared in his inbox to let him know that his second Twitch account would be banned, and according to Twitch's rules it also meant that he couldn't use his main account or appear in his friends' streams.
He'll never admit it out loud, but George is stressed, and it's even started to accumulate physically and take a toll on his body. His shoulders ache with the pressure of a hundred pounds, though he doesn't remember the last time he's lifted something remotely heavy. There's a terrible crick in his neck, but it can't be from sleeping in a strange position because he hasn't slept in two days.
He can't possibly let his upbeat, sarcastic persona crack though. The thought of people knowing that he's not doing too well, even his best friends, is repulsive to him and he'd rather be tortured than show any sort of vulnerability. It's how he's always been.
With a huff and a frustrated hand through his dark hair that's longer than it's ever been, he slumps in his chair, with no Youtube video to upload and nowhere to stream, feeling just about as useful as someone using a fork to eat soup. It's all he can really do. Sit and feel sorry for himself. He's too exhausted to even go on his phone. There's nothing there for him anyway.
Then his mind is sparked with the memory of his best friend telling him about a specific website he'd tried out. LoveCam.com– a "mature" version of Twitch, apparently. He was surprised that Dream was into that sort of thing, but then he remembered Dream's habit of throwing money at people every chance he got, so maybe it was in character for him. It just isn't George's type of thing. He's more of a "whatever's on the trending page of PornHub" kind of guy, but recently he hasn't even been in the right mood for that.
Still, although with heavy hesitation, George types in the site address. There's no harm in trying, he thinks, and it's an easy way to hopefully let off some steam. And he's admittedly a little curious. He's filled with regret as soon as the website finishes loading. There's so much going on– so many words, so many options to choose from it's overwhelming.
Slowly he scrolls along the webpage, eyes scanning over each thumbnail that all appear the exact same to him– girls in lingerie– despite being wildly different. He gets more and more flustered as he goes on and it quickly dawns on him that he has no idea what he's even looking for. He's never done this before, so how is he supposed to know what he wants? Nothing catches his eye and he's not even sure what category he could click on to narrow it down. He considers texting Dream and asking him what to do, but then... No, Dream will just make fun of him for it. And then he'll tell Sapnap and Sapnap will make fun of him for it. The easiest option he can think of is to click on a bunch of random livestreams and hope for the best, so that's what he does.
For the next ten minutes, George enters a stream, watches for a few seconds, comes to the conclusion that he's not interested, then moves onto the next one. He's not sure when he became a camgirl connoisseur and why he has the audacity to be so picky because these girls are all beautiful, clad in expensive lingerie and wearing full faces of stunning precise makeup, and he's sitting there in one of his merch t-shirts that he probably hasn't washed in a week. He doesn't understand why nothing is cutting it for him.
One more, he tells himself, sighing in defeat. He doesn't have much hope left, anticipating that it'll go the exact same way as before. If it does, it's a sign.
That's when he finds you.
As soon as he joins your stream and the sound of your laugh falls onto his ears, he's sucked into a trance. You're giggling at something in your chat, giving a fake flirty reply to one of your regulars in a voice that's one of the prettiest sounds George has ever heard. When he looks to your username, HoneyBunx, it all makes sense to him. Your voice is exactly like honey– so sweet it could cause toothaches. Such a perfect mix of soothing and breathy in a way that he doesn't want to hear anyone else's voice ever again because it won't even come close to yours.
It's you. You're what he was looking for. His tongue swipes over his lip as he becomes drunk on the sight of you. Your cute baby blue lacy two piece sits perfectly on every part of your body like it was made for you, legs covered with white thigh highs that George nearly drools at. Your skin gleams like silk, and an Ariana-esque bunny mask covers the top half of your face to ensure you're completely anonymous. A long blonde wig is placed on top of your head, styled to perfection, and contacts have altered the colour of your eyes.
"Thank you guys for all the donations and gifts," you say, smiling gratefully, straightening your back for the thousandth time during the hour you've been live. "I hope you had a fun time. I know I did."
George panics. You're ending. Of course you're ending right when he finds you.
"I'll be live at the same time next week, but I do private sessions every day so if you're interested you can check out my page for details about that. One-on-one chats are much more intimate and personal and I promise you won't regret it," you chirp, winking at the camera. You barely even have to sell yourself anymore. Men are simple-minded. They don't need much persuasion.
"Thanks again, everyone. Have a good night," you say, wiggling your fingers goodbye before you end your broadcast.
George is not sure what overcomes him. A strange sort of hunger, a possessiveness unlike one he's ever felt, like he has to have you. He jumps to click on your profile. As soon as he opens it, he finds a plethora of your information, but he doesn't spare most of it a glance because there's something in particular he's looking for. 'One-on-one session: $100 for 30 minutes'. Impressive. He doesn't doubt you're making bank. Without hesitation, he inputs his card details. Not like he needs that hundred dollars anyway.
Once it's paid, all that's left is the excruciating wait. He hadn't considered that you're almost definitely in high demand and that he could be waiting hours, probably days for a reply. He eyes the 'Tips' tab, squinting as he considers giving you even more money. It might get your attention. God knows he'd do anything for that. Before he can talk himself out of it he's transferring $400 more to your Paypal, something that maybe he should have thought about for just a little longer, but it's too late now.
Within a few minutes, he gets an email notification. At first he thinks it's a payment confirmation or something from Paypal, but then he opens it and his heart skips a beat as soon as he does.
You didn't leave a username, but I got your request for a one-on-one session. When are you free?
All my love,
Quickly he types back, hating how shaky his fingers are when he does. It makes him make a bunch of typos that he has to keep backspacing to fix. Eventually he manages to tell you that he's available whenever, including right now, and minutes later he's made an account on LoveCam.com and he sits and waits for your call.
"Hello, George," you sing in that sugary voice of yours once he answers. George's heart might have stopped beating. His lungs have stopped working, that's for sure. He could listen to you say his name on loop for the rest of his life if he could.
"Hi," he replies, quiet, swallowing while he stares at your figure on the screen. You're sat on your bed in a room that's just a little dim, but bright enough that you can make out every detail of your body. Your chest is subtly puffed out towards the camera where it looks like your natural posture to an unassuming client. It's all deliberate. Tricks you've learned that give the best results and create the perfect amount of curiosity.
"You're very handsome, you know that?" you say, eyeing the pale boy. It's true, and you don't say that to many of your customers. You smile at the way he shifts ever so slightly in his seat every few seconds.
"Really?" he asks. He hears it all the time from his fans– "you have pretty privilege"– but he's never really believed it. He's always thought of himself as average, always wishing he was a little taller, a little more buff, wanting eyes that had at least some colour in them.
You, however, are genuinely convinced he might be one of the prettiest men you've ever seen. His hair looks soft with a light curl in it– perfect for grabbing hold of. His jaw is perfectly chiseled, but not too strong, and it's shaded with a short stubble that doesn't look like it's there on purpose. His lips, my God. You've never seen a more kissable pair of lips. His eyes are soft, kind as they stare at you, something troubled in them.
"Really. I'm used to seeing a lot of... middle aged men, so you're quite the pleasant surprise."
When he smiles it's sheepish, a tiny pink tint spreading over his cheeks as he ducks his head to one side, holding his head in his hand.
"Five hundred dollars... Are you lonely? Or desperate? Or both?" you ask him. You've gotten large sums of money before, but it's rarely more than $250 at most. You won't lie, dropping five hundred bucks on a camgirl makes him seem... questionable. Money's gotta mean nothing to him if he's willing to do that.
"I guess I'm just stressed," he explains, and you believe him if the bags under his eyes are anything to show for it. Now that he's said more than two words, you hear the British twang in his voice. A British boy. Like he couldn't get any better. He's also got an awkward charm to him. Not quite Michael Cera, no. Something about George says he could be confident if he wanted to.
"Well then, George. What do you want?" you ask. Not in a patronising way, but perhaps you should have worded it a little better. Poor thing looks like he might just disconnect from the call. You trace a hand along your thigh, catching the way his eyes follow your movement.
His mouth parts just a tad as he considers. Now that he's got you... What does he want with you?
"What can you... do?" he asks. Really? That's all you can come up with?
"Anything for you," you tell him, voice low, lips curled upwards slightly.
He hums, hoping you can't hear the way his heart pounds against his ribs. He wouldn't be surprised if you could.
Anything. Well, you're not here to judge, so he'll take a stab.
"Take everything off. Slowly," he instructs, still shaky in his tone, but you're more than happy to oblige. "Not your disguise," he clarifies, to which you chuckle, having already assumed that's what he meant.
Your eyes are locked on the screen the entire time as you push your bra straps down your arms at an agonising pace, fingers brushing over your skin as you go. You reach back, unclasping the bra, letting it sit loosely on your body as you cup your breasts over the lace, pushing them up, massaging them for a while. Eventually you drag the bra the rest of the way down your arms, tossing it away into your room somewhere.
George looks cute, blinking slowly, not daring to take his eyes off you as though he's in hypnosis.
You toy with the fabric of your panties, dipping past the waistband just momentarily, just to tease a little. Slowly you start to pull them along your legs, swaying your hips side to side ever so slightly. George's eyes cloud over at the sight of your exposed pussy, widening momentarily. He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and readjusts in his seat.
Next you fidget with the tops of your thigh highs, but before you can begin to remove them, George briskly interrupts.
"N-no. Keep the thigh highs," he says slowly, still a little unsure of himself.
You grin, nodding your head and settling back into a comfortable sitting position, awaiting your next instruction while twirling your artificial hair between your fingers.
"Play with your nipples," he says after a moment of hesitation.
So you do. Your hands reach up to your tits, fingertips brushing over your darkened buds that are already semi-stiff. You circle them, biting your lip when you pinch them softly so they harden.
George shifts again, crossing one leg over the other and you can't help but giggle. You let a small moan slip past your lips as you tease and tug at your nipples, at the same time gazing into the camera and batting your lashes. He's quiet, but he doesn't need to say much because his shimmering, round eyes and his parted mouth say it all.
He's growing hard, rapidly. One glance at your soft hands that would look so lovely wrapped around him and he pretty much jumps in his pants. You'll do what he says. It's your job. Slowly the doubt in his mind, the questioning of it all, seeps away. No one will know about this. No one will have to experience the shame but himself. It'll be worth it.
"Lie back and touch your clit. I want to see it." You nearly squeal at the change in his tone. The new-found confidence comes like a slap to the face in the most masochistic way. With a little too much enthusiasm, you lean back onto your elbows and spread your legs nice and wide for the camera. George's hungry gaze makes your chest bubble with excitement and you dip your eager fingers into your mouth, making a show of swirling your tongue around them before they land on your clit.
It takes just a few minutes of drawing small, slow circles on your bud before there's a tension building in your stomach. The way George eyes you almost scrutinisingly sends a shiver along your spine, the tips of your fingers nearly becoming harsh.
"George, please," you mewl quietly.
"Please what?" he asks with something commanding in his tone.
"Can I put a finger in? Please?"
George draws in a sharp breath at the sound of your plea. For a moment his facade cracks and he's nervous and pliant again. He considers making you work for it, but the way you beg makes him want to give you the world.
"Yes, Honey," he says, a little out of breath and he hasn't even moved. Your name was meant to be said by him, you think. It's never sounded better than when said in a British accent.
"Mmm, I'm soaked already, George," you say as your middle finger slips inside your entrance and your head falls back. With a slow pace, you sink in and out, in and out, eventually curling up, the tip of your finger brushing against your sweet spot which forces a small moan out of you.
George's loose grey sweatpants are suffocating him. His hand falls to his crotch in an effort to soothe the ache by palming himself but it's in vain. With a huff, his fingers crawl underneath the waistband of his pants, past his boxers, until they wrap around his erection.
"Put another finger in," he says, blood rushing to his face as he strokes himself lightly. He's not sure when his voice dropped two octaves.
You push a second finger in without hesitation, pulling them back out only to swirl them over your clit and show George the glimmering slick that coats them.
"Look what you do to me, baby," you drawl. George's irregular breaths are loud and clear from your computer despite the way he attempts to keep them under control. But fuck, the way you're spread out with two fingers knuckle deep in your pussy right now makes George wonder why he's not totally hyperventilating.
Your face looks so pretty when it's scrunched into obscenity, your mouth a perfect 'O' shape, eyes all twinkly and cloudy from the pleasure of your own fingers. George wishes so badly that he could reach out and grab you, have you all to himself. He'd mark your perfect, shiny skin and leave no place unkissed. He'd sit you in his lap and make you take his cock and whisper how well you're doing in your ear.
His hand squeezes around his length, quickening subconsciously to match the speed of your fingers. He's painfully hard now, and being restricted by his pants doesn't help anything. He considers taking them off, but then his mind fills with questioning– is it rude? When is the right time to do it? What if it's something he just shouldn't do for some reason? The last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable.
George's cock throbs with agony and if he restrains himself for any longer he might actually burst into tears. Morals thrown out the window, he shoves his pants down his legs, trying and failing to be discreet about it. He smears the precum that drools from the slit of his cock, dragging it down his flushed member, sighing with relief at the freedom. To his delight, you're smiling, but you're disappointed because his crotch is below the frame of his camera.
"I wanna see your cock, George," you say, half moaning as you drag your fingers in and out of yourself.
His eyes widen a little with surprise, then he reaches up and adjusts his camera downwards so that his dick is in view. You're a little shocked at the size, to say the least. Having seen many, many cocks in your lifetime, you can undoubtedly say it's one of the bigger ones. You want it so badly inside you.
"Do you have..." He pauses, eyes flitting around like he's lost. Then he goes quiet to where you almost can't hear him. "Do you have toys?"
You giggle with mischief, a sense of thrill settling into your bones as you sit up, removing your fingers from your hole. "Of course. Any preferences?"
"Uh... Whatever's your favourite." A man after your own heart. He might be the first customer to consider what you want.
Under your bed is a box filled with all sorts of vibrators, cocks, plugs, handcuffs, paddles, clamps, and just about anything else that someone may request. At least half of it is gifts from your viewers and most of it is stuff you'd never even think about using off camera. Somewhere among all of it is your trusty pink seven inch made of rubber that you're all too familiar with.
You take your position before the camera again, legs wide so George can see how much you're dripping already. You press the dildo against your heat, dragging it through your folds, gasping at the friction against your sensitive clit. Once it's coated in your juices, you push it slowly past your entrance, throwing your head back and biting down on your bottom lip at the way it stretches you.
"Fuck..." you whine when it's sunken inside you to the hilt. The sight of George's sweet, fucked out face and the way he grips his cock has you shoving your artificial one in and out of your hole without relent, embarrassingly desperate for release already. Your stomach tightens, coiling into a knot that makes you buck your hips towards your own hand.
Small, sweet moans spill out of your mouth from how impossibly good the cock feels, rubbing against your tight walls with every thrust. Meanwhile George watches on intently, refusing to peel his hungry eyes away from the screen. His hand moves up and down his dick in the same rhythm that you bury the cock in and out of your pussy. Slick noises fill his ears from both your movements and his, turning his brain into a scrambled mess from all the stimulation.
"God, you feel so fucking good, George," you whimper, barely coherent because you're far too focused on the hot pleasure that takes over your limbs. You too have forgotten the idea of being fucked by a fake cock and replaced it with the thought of George being the one who's filling you up.
"Yeah? You look so pretty taking me," George drawls, unaware he had those words in him. If he closes his eyes and tries hard enough, he can imagine your tight, wet cunt wrapped around him. Your thigh high covered legs straddle him in his chair and he's got his hands grasping your waist, guiding your hips that grind against him so perfectly.
He can only dream.
"Faster," he moans, like you're actually riding him.
You're so close now, and George's controlling tone doesn't help. You pick up the pace, now slamming the cock in and out of yourself with no remorse, ensuring it reaches your sensitive spot each time. Each thrust produces a wet, squelching noise that makes George shiver and his cock throb in his hand. With every tug he brings himself closer to the edge, making the tension in his abdomen grow more and more intense until he's blabbering curses and whimpers of your name.
"Are you close, George? Are you gonna cum?" you ask, moaning immediately after.
"Yes," he pants. "Are you, Honey?"
"Yeah," you reply, high-pitched as the dildo hits a particularly sensitive spot. "Ungh, can I cum? Please, can I?"
"Fuck. Cum for me, Honey," he says even though he's teetering on the edge himself. His voice strains, breath catching in his throat.
One look at his pale hand gripping his leaking red cock and you're done for, arching your back high into the air and crying out a desperate "George!" as every fibre and vein within you turns to liquid. Your muscles tighten, their functions replaced by a pure bliss that numbs your brain and leaves you floating.
Seconds after you, George pulses in his hand and finally spurts of cum shoot from his cock, making a mess of his t-shirt but he couldn't care less. His head is thrown back, lips forming a perfect ring as he lets out a long, gorgeous moan. He twitches in his hand, abdomen clenching and unclenching, still sensitive all over.
Before he's even recovered, while his mind is still fuzzy, your screen goes blank. His half hour is up. He wonders if maybe he didn't hear you say goodbye in his post-orgasm haze. Naively he checks the chat, grasping for anything, but there's only a single message.
HoneyBunx has disconnected.
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Do not repost/ plagiarize my work. Do not “reword” my work. @hillarysss
Pluto in 10th/ Scorpio in 10th- These people radiate a lot of magnetism to the public eye. Everyone wants to get to know them, because they're so secretive. Wether they know it or not they hold a lot of power over people. People tend to follow their advice & orders. Trusting them on every plan. Very cult like.
Prominent Aphrodite- These people are seen by beautiful and sexually appealing from others. People usually respect them and are intimidated of them. Their charm and sexual appeal is what makes them have power. (#1388)
Prominent Aries & Mars / Mars in 1st- In Greek mythology, Aries is represented by Ares the god of war. If this is prominent most people look up and are intimidated by the way the individual is so passionate and radiates sexual & aggressive energy.. They have power because people are scared of their bad side. They don't have to do much.
Prominent Sirene & touching Mars- Person has the ability to draw people in because they seem trustful and understanding. Individual has a lot of power because they radiate very welcoming energy. If it's touching mars especially, the individual radiates a lot of sexual energy which people are drawn to because of Sirene's nature. That's when they have power, when they lure you in and they have every capability of doing so. (#1009). (check out here for Sirene information)
Pluto / Scorpio dominants/ Pluto in 1st- It's simple, these people have the power to transform people for the best. Their words are addicting to others. They can put others on a "spell". These people get shit DONE, and that's very inspiring and motivating to other people. A lot of people may even try to be like them. They should be careful though, with all this power they have they can easily use it for bad and can at times accidentally turn the weapon to themselves and they can easily be despised. Double edged sword.
Saturn/ Capricorn dominants/ Saturn in 1st- This one may shock a lot of people, but of course let me explain. Saturn rules over the Greek's god name Chorus which deals with karma, meaning do not fucking mess with them unless you wanna deal with a bunch of bad karma. These people posses the natural ability to get justice even if it's in a few months or etc. They are understanding and practical individuals, they are not the type to get "revenge" because they know they can trust on karma to help. Always be honest and truthful to them with GOOD intentions.
Prominent Lilith/ Lilith in 8th/ Lilith in 1st- These people express their rawest and truest side and that's what pulls people in. These people get very sexualized, however they can learn to use that to their advantage. They can get favors and stuff out of people that the native wouldn't usually do or even think of. That's how they get power, they don't give a fuck about anything and do whatever the fuck they want. Usually, these people intimidate others & could even be talked bad about, but they have power over them that way because they're thinking of a prominent Lilith even if it's in a bad way.
Uranus/ Aquarius Dominants/ Uranus in 1st- These people are unique and they know it and they love that about themselves. The energy they have attracts a lot of people who will copy them. They subconsciously have a lot of power over people. A lot of people are attracted to their quirkiness and everything about them. Everyone tries to be them & but they can't be fullied copied as they're always changing. Everyone wonders what they're up to next, because you can never pin them down. Don't try to even.
Sun / Leo Dominants/ Sun in 1st- Person has really strong ego and will to do things. They have a creativity that is unmatched and they tend to leave a creative spark on other people. People tend to love these people because of their talents and overall charisma they possess. These people could literally say the weirdest shit and everyone would still love it because they have their own little shine and spark to things, which is remarkable.
Moon Dominants/ Cancer Dominants/ Moon in 1st/ Moon in 10th- These people are seen by the lunar qualities. They possess sensitive and feminine nature, that's what draws people to them. They have power over people because they simply use emotions to guide them and a lot of people sympathize with them for that. They are also seen as very psychic or intuitive by others. A lot of people trust their words on everything. They have power over people's emotional foundation which they can destroy anytime.
Let me know if you guys want part two;))
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Hi! I wanted to make a request about the reader being a god who lost his memory and is now the father of the teenagers (Tubbo, Ranboo, Tommy and Fundy) and how would be the reader's relationship with the true (or responsible) parents of their children (like, Philza, Wilbur, Jschlatt and Sam)
(if it's all right can I be the anon 🎃 or 🧁?)
I hope you don’t mind that I just made it bullet points for their reactions, this was already getting quite long, and welcome to the club anon :P I saw the message about Techno, no worries
Gods weren't meant to interact with humans. It was one of the many rules created to protect the mortals and immortals. Nothing ever went well when the two formed relationships, for their species were too far apart: in power, intelligence, abilities and values. And that rule is why you’re here today. You scowl as you are forced to kneel amongst the council of gods. They stare down at you, faces impassive, their wear far more elegant than your own. As a smaller level god, you did not have the power the council has, or the status they carry. But you too, are still subject to the rules.
“We are here to discuss the case of The God of Nature.” A guard, one of the many lowly grunts that filled this place gestures to your figure. “They have been found having relations with a human.” Numerous gods begin to chatter amongst themselves when that news is given. You find yourself tugging against the restraints, not enjoying the feeling of being scrutinized. A booming voice silences the gossip and increases your nerves.
One of the True Gods, a being from what was considered the beginning looms over you, their shadow encasing a large area of the room. They stalk closer, lifting your chin with a giant finger before stepping away. You don’t attempt to hide the anger on your face, openly displaying your distaste for the council and their rules. The god walks away, pacing the room slowly, their cloak trailing behind them gracefully.
“We do not show mercy to those who break our rules.” They start, their voice dripping with power and authority. “Gods who do not obey are often deranked for a couple centuries as a punishment.” They stop, turning to face you once more. “But, I can see that will not dissuade you. If you want to be with these humans so badly, then so be it.” With a nod to the council, they have made their decision.
“You will be stripped of your title, abilities and memories. In return you will be sent to the human realm to live the rest of your life amongst the mortals.” The crowd shouts, voices overlapping each other. Jeers and cheers alike aimed in your direction. With a wave of the god’s hand, you feel their powers constricting your figure. You collapse forward, not letting out a single sound as you fall.
When you awake again, you find yourself lying in the middle of a forest. A few curious animals approach your body. You groan feeling immensely tired and sore. For some strange reason, you can’t remember why you feel so tired or really anything. You remember the logics of this world and some basic knowledge. But, nothing to yourself except a name. Pushing yourself up, and stumbling a bit, you look around the area. It seems that you are in a rather large and thriving forest. After a couple of hours of exploring you have discovered that the animals won’t stray far from your side and plants seem to lean towards your body. Ignoring the strangeness of the situation you begin surviving.
It takes weeks of hard work to construct a house in the depths of the forest. With the clean river and lush soil, you easily create a rather large garden full of vegetables and herbs. Your house, although humble, is more than enough for you to live in. At first, you struggled to move about, your body weak and fragile. Yet, as you fought monsters and constructed buildings from the ground you began to get stronger.
It has been a month since you woke up in the forest. At this point, you are used to the strangeness of the forest, finding no point in questioning the unknown. A few deer explain that there is civilization with humans, like you, only a couple hours from the forest. However, you do not attempt to reach out to the humans, feeling a sense of dread when the topic is mentioned.
You have a routine, you follow quite often. Getting up after spending too long in bed, water the plants inside and outside, complete the chores for the day, prepare some food and spend the rest of the day relaxing however you went. One would think it could get repetitive, yet every day brought warmth to your chest. Everyday was the same and you enjoyed that. Until it wasn’t.
On a rather rainy day, you are simply enjoying the sounds of the storm inside your house, when a commotion is made from outside. At first, you ignore it believing it is just the storm picking up in strength, but a few light knocks on your door reason otherwise. Cautiously, you open the door, a sword by your side in case the person would attempt to attack you. A tall teen stands under the awning, purple particles surrounding his body. He seems uneasily looking at the rain, his long ears flicking back.
He’s a hybrid of some sort. You muse to yourself, taking in his strange appearance. His different colored eyes shift to yours, looking flustered to see someone in the doorway.
“I hope I’m not intruding. I wasn’t expecting it to rain and well I can’t travel in it without armor.” He ducks his head, mumbling to himself about forgetting to wear armor. You are hesitant to let the stranger into your house. But, when a drop of water lands on his head and he flinches, you usher him inside.
He looks around uncomfortably, which is understandable since neither of you know each other. Walking past the teen, you head down the hall, returning with a towel for the boy. He graciously accepts the fabric, drying off his hair and patting down his clothes.
“I don’t think the storm will clear up, at least not until tomorrow.” You state, giving a look out the window. His ears flick at the news and his eyes cast downwards. Sighing almost inaudibly, you run a hand through your hair.
“I can make some food in a little bit, is there anything you won’t eat?” He shakes his head ‘no’ looking surprised by your hospitality. He continues to stand stiffly in the middle of your house, his tail swaying slowly.
“You can make yourself comfortable, I don’t mind. I’ll grab you a change of clothes since you’re soaked.” He nods, taking a seat on the couch. After he changes, you hang his original clothes aside to dry and get ready to make some food. Over the course of the night, the teen gets more casual around you, introducing himself clumsily as Ranboo. Despite not interacting around other people as often, you find yourself enjoying his presence. The pair make jokes together, discussing their journeys and interests until the lanterns dim. Knowing that you do not have the heart to make the kid sleep on the couch, you let him rest in your bed for the night.
When morning rolls around, you let the boy sleep in, preparing a small breakfast for him before going about your chores like normal. He appears later in the morning, thanking you then heading out. You didn’t think that the teen would continue to visit, popping in every few weeks. Sometimes he would just chat, other times he would help you take care of the garden. You don’t mind his visits, enjoying his company and comments a lot. You would have thought of Ranboo as a younger brother, until the day he accidentally called you ‘dad’.
You blink owlishly at the boy then smile widely. He rushes forward to give you a hug, your feet lifting off the ground with his height. After that point, he started spending more nights at your house, eventually building his own room connected to the building. You told him about your connection to the forest, and how you forgot your entire past. In turn, he told you about his own fading memories and his friends.
His friends, however, were noticing his frequent absences for most days. He’d leave for hours on end and return looking happier than before. His small shack in the tundra even lost some of its items, a sign of moving out. With curiosity, Tubbo and Tommy decided to follow their friend. Their mouths dropped when they saw the teen rush to a strange man, pulling him into a hug. They couldn’t think straight when they heard ‘dad’ tumble from his mouth.
Tubbo accidentally stepped on a twig, giving away their hiding spot. Ranboo, recognizing the bright red bandana and horns behind the bush, laughs then invites them over. Tubbo is excited to talk to you, sparkles practically surrounding the boy. Tommy is more brash, unadmittedly being protective of his friends and questions you profusely. In no time, they too realize why the enderman hybrid enjoys spending time with you. And, in a matter of months they decide to move in with you. It's a rush, in your opinion, but you don’t dare tell them no.
The teens are already wild enough around each other but still help you sometimes with chores before they leave. You don’t ask where they go every day, simply trusting that they’ll stay safe. Sometimes, they return with injuries and you’re fast to scold the group. Being the unofficial father of three boys was more than enough work for one person. It becomes even more work, when the boys bring back another friend. This one is older than the rest and a fox hybrid. He looks shy and slightly uncomfortable as introductions are made. Yet, he is quick to relax when you offer him some food. He too, eventually decides to move in. Although he is less trouble than the other three, he still enjoys pulling plenty of pranks.
There’s a few things you have learned while taking care of the boys. The first, is that they have had horrible or at least neglectful parents. Not only are they all touch-starved but they each turn to blame themselves when something goes wrong. Save for Tommy, who becomes extremely defensive. They all seem to thrive at the smallest compliments or gestures you do for them. Leading you to believe that their parents must have not done too much for them.
You don’t push for the boys to explain their pasts, simply accepting the fact that they rely on you now. Not only for a place to live or for food, but also for love. You did not think you would become a father while hiding out in the forest, trying to regain your memories. But, you’d push off regaining your memories forever if it meant one more second with the teens.
It is an early Saturday and most of the boys are resting in their rooms. You’re naturally awake, forced to be an early riser even if you don’t like the mornings. Ranboo is the only one who did not stay the night, saying he had other business. You are leaning against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee when three light knocks hit on the door. Setting down the cup, you go to open the door, curious as to why the boy didn’t just let himself in.
You can see exactly why, when you open the door. Craning your head up, you spot five men standing behind Ranboo. A few of them have weapons drawn, pointing at your body. Ranboo looks upset, shyly waving a hand from behind the cloak of one of the figures.
They look familiar. You hum drowsily to yourself, not really understanding the situation at hand. The men’s stern looks falter at your nonchalant state, dropping more when you yawn loudly.
“Who’s at the door, dad?” An abnormally quiet voice grunts from behind you as Tommy emerges from the living room. He rubs at his eyes tiredly, obviously not being awake yet.
“Dad?” The blonde one with wings repeats angrily, his feathers fluffing up behind him. Another blonde, this one holding a trident, stiffens at the sight of Tommy. His eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Tommy, now fully awake at the sound of his dad’s voice, stumbles over his words messily throwing an excuse and dashing down the hall. At this point, Tubbo and Fundy have left their rooms from the commotion, watching with awkwardness at the sight of their biological parents at the door.
“Look, we don’t want any trouble.” The piglin hybrid talks calmly, his voice deep. “We just want to know why all the kids are staying with you.” He glares at you, as if to make a point, his tall stance making you feel miniscule.
A curse drops from your lips when you realize who the group of men standing in front of you are. With multiple apologies, you let them inside offering drinks while they gather around the table. You feel uneasy, sensing the scrutinizing gazes of each of the characters. In the distance, you can spot Tubbo, Tommy, Ranboo and Fundy talking amongst each other, sometimes looking over at you.
It takes a couple minutes for you to compose yourself and explain yourself. You discuss how you met each of the boys and how they eventually decided to start living here, leaving out unimportant details. They seem less threatening than earlier, now realizing that you aren’t a bad person. You feel relieved and almost change the topic until it crosses your mind that these men are the reasons why the boys took a stranger in as their own dad.
Like a switch has been flicked, you begin angrily ranting to the men, even scolding them at one point. They seem taken back by your response, most of them sinking into their seats. When you are done, you let out a huff and sink back into your chair. Your coffee is cold now.
It is nearing noon, by the time you are all done talking. Sam calls over the boys to ask a question. It is a simple one, when he asks if they are happy here. They all nod rapidly. With that, Sam leans back into his chair and tells the rest of the group that he is fine with them staying here. The kids cheer, running over quickly to hug you. With all four of them hugging you, the chair topples over and you all land in a group pile on the floor. Despite the weight of all of them, you continue to laugh, ruffling their hair in the hug. The rest of the parents and father-figures smile at the sight, feeling relieved in seeing their kids happy.
At first, he sees red
Not only did you force your way into their lives, but you somehow had his son, his grandson and Ranboo under your care
He knows that he was not around for Tommy, but for you to take the others as well? Who do you think you are?
He is still upset when he sits down at the table but cools down while you talk
You laugh at the smallest of details, smiling when one of the boys interrupts and just look so happy
When the boys pull you into a hug and you return the affection immediately, well Philza realizes that perhaps you are a good person for the boys to have in their lives
He is kinda jealous, that you are able to handle the four boys so easily
Philza is still cautious however, he recognizes your name and looks from one of his books
You are a god, or at least were one as it appears you lost your memories
He tries to hint at his knowledge of your status but you don’t respond well, looking lost
When you admit to losing your memories, he can tell that he can trust you
You aren’t just some deity stringing along the boys because you can, you actually care for them
He still wants to be around for the boys, so he will try to help when he can
Offering to help you on weekends or days off, perhaps cooking while you manage the garden
He won’t admit his faults but he will try to be there for his boys more frequently, feeling guilty that a stranger had to take his place
He isn’t angry, but he will be pouty for a while
He knew that he was neglecting Fundy for a while, but he didn’t think the fox would ditch him completely
Wilbur is watching your every move, trying to find some sort of fault
And yet, you’re oddly perfect at everything
He can’t manage to keep a single plant alive and you have twenty in the house
He wants to find a reason why the boys shouldn’t be staying with you, but he really can’t
The teens seemed so worried when they had arrived at the door, the sight going straight to his heart
When he saw Fundy’s ears turn back and tail drop, he couldn’t help the scowl that reached his face
He wants to yell at you, but you make it so difficult to hate you
You’re so vibrant, when you talk about meeting each of the teens
He can easily tell that you love them and that they love you too
Wilbur feels like he can’t compete with you, but will try his hardest
He will hang around longer, giving more attention to Fundy then his job and offering plenty of gifts
If that doesn’t work he will ask for advice, although he grumbles through the process
He hates you, or at least that is what he tells himself
He did not like the idea of you at first, especially since you were basically taking care of his kid
Schlatt knows that he has not been around for Tubbo too much, but he didn’t expect the boy to go and find a new dad
He feels a bit offended by that and on the trip here he wanted to punch your face in
But seeing you smile so fondly at Tubbo, and seeing how Tubbo looks back at you
Well his heart breaks a little
Sure, it is a cute scene but he doesn’t want his kid to replace him
Schlatt is happy though, that Tubbo found someone so nice
He plans to try a lot harder for the boy, knowing he has a lot to make up for
He wants to get to know you more, to try and find out what is so great about you
He considers himself to be Tommy’s father figure, knowing that Philza wasn’t around often
What he didn’t take into consideration was that there could be another father figure for the boy that he didn’t know about
He is protective of Tommy, the teen has already been through so much in his life
So he wants to make sure that you are a good person before letting down his guard
Sam sees how you fuss over each of the boys, taking care of them with ease
He admires how you have been taking care of all of them, the feat not normal
When Tommy initiated the group hug, he knew he could trust you
Tommy isn’t one to show affection, especially so openly
So for the boy to drop his guard and tackle you into a hug; well that just shows how important you are to the teen
He will gladly help you take care of the boys, stopping by to check in or give gifts
Four boys are a lot of work and he doesn’t want you to get overwhelmed
Techno doesn’t like much of this affection garbage, only really tagging along because the group wanted muscle
Although he does express some brotherly fondness for Tommy and Ranboo
When he saw that Ranboo was practically moving out of his tiny shack across the lawn, he was worried that the boy got into some trouble
He never would have thought that the boys were hiding away a father figure
He didn’t want to trust you but the voices are so calm, practically silent around you
The few that did chime in, didn’t even want to kill you but instead protect you
He saw how you would smile at the boys, they meant so much to you
Techno knows that they also care for you immensely
He drops his cool act, listening carefully to each sentence you said
While he doesn’t trust you completely, he knows that the kids are safe in your care
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🦜Astrology Observations Pt.4🦜
Collaboration with @venusfun 🌈
Huge thanks to my wonderful bestie @venusfun for sharing an amount of observations in this astro notes and helping me with the overall view of this post. Also please check her out if you don't know her yet, she creates a lot of spectacular astrology posts and you can learn a lot about asteroids from her blog❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
Part 1. Asteroids
🌈According to research, asteroid Angel(11911) was first discovered when it was still under the sign of Sagittarius
🌈Having your asteroid DNA(55555) in an earth sign can indicate that your children may see you as someone who is grounded, hard working, practical, and very stubborn. They might look up to you because you are capable enough of giving them the best life you could give and they would understand that your hard-work is a way to support the family
🌈Asteroid Psyche(16) in Pisces/Libra craves romance that is fanstasy-like, something out of this world or something magical that just came out of a romantic story. These folks are the types of people who might be actively looking for true love
🌈Vesta in the 7th house might prefer to not get married
🌈People with Psyche(16) conjunct mercury think on the “soul” level (with heart)
🌈Prominent Ceres can indicate being a very loving and supportive mother but if Ceres have many challenging aspects then it can be obsessing
🌈Diana(78) in an aspect with MC(midheaven) can indicate work with animals
🌈Sirene(1009) in 2nd house indicates beautiful voice
Part 2. MBTI & Astrology
Sidenote: There's no correlation between MBTI and Astrology and we are using this only for personality observations
🌈Cancer/Moon dominants fit with the stereotypes of ISFJ. Both are maternal, nurturing, supportive, sympathetic, selfless, always protects their loved ones, and are sick of dealing your shit lmao. Also they tend to be the Mom/Dad of their friend group and the ones who always brings food 😋😋
🌈 I noticed most Sagittarius placements tend be ENFPs or INFPs base on MBTI. Maybe because both are idealistic, goofy, huge procrastinators, creative, and free-spirited. This can also apply to Jupiter/Pisces dominants (For Pisces it's more on INFP)
🌈While Virgo placements are more fitting with ISTJ because they are dutiful, loyal, traditional, organized, reliable, practical, and fact-minded. And with ISTJs dominant cognitive function which is Si(introverted sensing) they can use the past as a guide and lesson to be used in the present which explains them relying on the tried and true methods in dealing things
🌈In my own opinion, Scorpio/Pluto dominant just gives me INTJ vibes. Maybe because of their analytical and reserved nature
🌈Since the earth signs are known for being observant and detail-oriented, they are more of a sensing type because sensors can notice every single detail of a certain thing such as noticing that you change your hairstyle or you changed your signature perfume and they can sometimes miss the bigger picture. Also sensing types are more focused on the present(Extraverted sensing) or in the past(Introverted sensing) rather than the future which fits the earth signs who are more focused on experiencing the physical world
Part 3. Composites
🌈Uranus in the 1st can indicate that people might perceive you two as best friends
🌈Neptune in the 1st can indicate that people might see the partners as very spiritual and "usually not seen around" relationship
🌈Pluto in the 1st can indicate that people might project you two as very intense and "deep" relationship
🌈Sagittarius ascendant in the composite chart will indicate that other people see the relationship as very fun and adventurous. It has a philosophical vibe
🌈Earth Ascendant in a composite chart can indicate the relationship as stable or grounded and loyalty is established
🌈Uranus in the 3rd can show that two of you may have some odd ways of conversing with each other or have an unusual way of expressing things that only the two of you can understand
Part 4. Degrees
🌈People with 8th degree on a personal planet (Sun, Moon, Mercury, Mars, Venus) can find success easily, especially when it comes to business. But if a person has at least three 8th degrees, then the individual can be very materialistic and is only “money-oriented"
🌈Having a good amount of Pisces degree(12°, 24°) in your chart can indicate that you are good or capable enough in balancing your fixation between reality and fantasy but having a lot of it can indicate of you having tendencies of escaping reality and isolating yourself from everyone
🌈Even if your placements are full of feminine/introverted signs(earth/water), if you have a lot of fire/air degrees in your chart especially in personal planets or in your ascendant, you may be more sociable and outgoing. This goes vice versa as well
🌈People with a lot of 5 degrees (at least 3) are actually passionate about going to the gym. A lot of athletes have this degree
🌈Having a Virgo/Scorpio degree(6°, 8°, 18°, 20°)in your personal planet can indicate someone who tends to question anything especially out of either curiosity or suspicion, these people need to be sure that you are trustworthy(they might find ways to trick you or manipulate the conversation to see if what you are saying is true)
Part 5. Random
🌈The house where Leo is in is where you are mostly loved for:
10H Leo = admired by your ambition and your organizational skills,
11H Leo = admired by how you make friends easily and your networking skills
5H Leo = admired by your passion towards your interests or hobby,
3H Leo = admired by your communication or verbal skills,
2H Leo = admired by your voice and how you handle your finances
🌈Water/Moon/Venus dominant 🤝 Can easily connect to music and would be dancing in their own room till someone enters in
🌈Fixed Moon/Venus/Rising are the types of people who when they find a good music, they would replay it endlessly till they are good enough to stop and feel contented already from listening to it
🌈October Scorpios tend to be more outgoing, sociable, and hot-tempered than November Scorpios but this doesn't change the fact both can be mysteriously alluring and are really intense individuals
🌈Pisces with a mix of Scorpio placements tend to have this dreamlike presence and looks. It's like their physical appearance are just oozing a dreamy yet mysterious vibes
Example: Jungwoo from NCT Pisces Sun + Scorpio Moon
🌈Since the 9th house is the house that associates with religion, it also symbolizes the church and God
🌈The last 4 astrological signs in the zodiac wheel(♐︎ ♑︎ ♒︎ ♓︎)are known as the universal signs, these signs are mainly focused on the outer perspectives of life and are less focused with the self and their relationships. Sagittarius is focused on other cultures, religion, and their own opinion towards things, Capricorn is focused on the understanding of our physical self and the underlying achievements of one's hard work, Aquarius is focused on principles and humanity, and Pisces is focused on the spiritual aspects of life and the connection with the infinite universe
🌈Neptune in 1H/5H/9H/12H/Neptune dominant gives me a feeling like they belong during the renaissance era where philosophy and arts was at its highest peak, these folks tend to be abstract, artistic, and philosophical
🌈Mars in Cancer/Taurus/Libra are mostly seen as people who are very laid-back and many underestimate them base on their energy due to Mars being in detriment/fall with these specific signs
🌈Many people agrees that Geminis are great storytellers but no one talks about Virgos being good at story-telling as well. Both are ruled by mercury and they tend to have great ideas or stories that they can share and express with
🌈Pisces/Aquarius/Sagittarius Rising are the types of people who would wander around the mall(or a public place in general) and accidentally separates from their friends or family and gets lost
Damn, this was a long ass ride 😅😅 hope you guys enjoyed this astrology observations made by me, @leolo404 and @venusfun ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
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Presenting, the Complete Locked Tomb Timeline
Because I am a horrible nerd, I’ve compiled a complete timeline of every known event in the locked tomb trilogy so far. This is roughly divided into three parts:
Ancient History - this section is mostly based on the scraps of history we hear from the lyctors in HtN. The events are inferred from pieces or occasionally reconstructed by process of elimination.
Tragic Backstories - this section is based on what we learn about the backstories of the present day characters. The Cohort intelligence files in the GtN appendix were invaluable for getting the dates here.
Present Day - this section is a recounting of the events of the books put back in order and carefully placed on a timeline.
Please note that this contains SPOILERS FOR EVERYTHING including bonus content like The Mysterious Study of Dr. Sex.
The timeline itself is below the cut because otherwise this post would eat people’s dashes for breakfast.
Part One - Ancient History
10,001+ Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Earth suffers from catastrophic climate change.
Many groups of humans abandon Earth and spread out across the stars.
10,001 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The world ends. A bomb is involved. 10 billion people die.
John Gaius is the only survivor.
John resurrects the people of earth, the planets of the nine houses, and the sun. He creates the nine resurrection beasts in the process and they scatter across the universe. The resurrections of the people are somewhat staggered and they don’t come back all at once.
The resurrected planets are thanergenic planets - that is, they continuously generate thanergy without dying. This makes them different from all other planets in the universe which are either thalergenic planets - living planets that continuously generate thalergy - or thanergy planets - dying planets that generate thanergy until they eventually die completely.
John meets Alecto. He calls her First, One and enters perfect lyctorship with her.
John renames the sun Dominicus to symbolize his divinity.
John cryopreserves many of the people he resurrected just in case he needs to recover from another catastrophe later.
10,001 - 9,000 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
John begins to construct Canaan House as a palace from which to rule the new world.
Ten disciples gather at Canaan House. These are:
Augustine Quinque and Alfred Quinque
Mercymorn the First and Cristabel Oct
Gideon the First and Pyrrha Dve
Cassiopeia the First and Nigella Shodash
Ulysses the First and Titania Tetra
Half of the disciples become the first necromancers. The other half take up the sword and become the first cavaliers.
John uses his divine power to make his disciples immortal as long as they stay by his side.
The houses are founded. In recognition of their roles as founders, the disciples adopt their arithmonymics (number related surnames) :
Gideon and Pyrrha found the Cohort and the Second House on Mars.
The Third House is founded on Neptune without a disciple pair involved.
Ulysses and Titania found the Fourth House on Saturn.
Augustine and Alfred found the Fifth House on Jupiter.
Cassiopeia and Nigella found the Sixth House on Mercury.
The Seventh House is founded on Venus without a disciple pair involved.
Mercymorn and Cristabel found the Eighth House on Uranus.
Some of the children born in the new houses are necromancers. This effect cannot be replicated elsewhere in the universe because there are no other thanergenic planets.
Six second generation disciples who grew up in the new houses come to Canaan House. These are:
Cyrus the First and Valancy Trinit
Anastasia the First and Samael Novenary
Cytherea the First and Loveday Heptane
The disciples develop the secrets of interstellar travel by river and by stele.
Cristabel and Alfred formalize the cavalier oath.
Cassiopeia writes a large number of cookbooks.
Cyrus and Valancy create many nude oil paintings of each other.
Pyrrha and Gideon develop the mind melding transference theorem.
Mercymorn and Cristabel develop the siphoning avulsion theorem.
Cassiopeia and Nigella create Teacher and the other Canaan House constructs by cramming 500 souls into 50 vessels.
The disciples put their work together and create the lyctoral process. Cristabel convinces Alfred to commit suicide with her, forcing Augustine and Mercymorn to ascend.
Gideon ascends. He accidentally compartmentalizes Pyrrha in the process, preserving her as a second person trapped in his body.
Cassiopeia, Cyrus, Ulysses, and Cytherea achieve lyctorhood.
Cassiopeia and Anastasia work together developing a theory of perfect lyctorhood.
Anastasia attempts to obtain perfect lyctorhood. John sabotages her, killing Samael.
The lyctors beg John to kill Alecto. He agrees and they hold a funeral for her (funeral #1).
The lyctors stage their labs and studies so that someday more aspirants to lyctorhood may examine them. They each create trials based on their work.
Anastasia founds the Ninth House on Pluto. She’s ostensibly supposed to roll the rock on top of the tomb and be done with it but instead she creates an enduring cult.
Anastasia dies. The lyctors hold a funeral for her (funeral #2).
9,000 - 5,000 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The nine houses begin expanding an enormous empire across the stars. Lyctors set obelisks to expand the stele network and kill planets to make necromancy possible.
The lyctors realize that the resurrection beasts have come to hunt them. They permanently leave the nine houses and begin living aboard the Mithraeum, a space station in imperial controlled space.
Cyrus moves his nude oil paintings and all of Valancy’s clothes from Canaan House to the Mithraeum.
Cassiopeia moves her cookbooks and her ceramics collection from Canaan House to the Mithraeum.
All seven lyctors fight and kill Number Two together.
Cyrus dies drawing Number Six into a black hole. The lyctors hold a funeral for him (funeral #3).
The remaining six lyctors move the Mithraeum to deep space and flee there.
The lyctors try Gideon and Ulysses’ spearfishing idea to fight Number Eight. It goes badly and Ulysses dies wrestling the beast into hell. They hold a funeral for him (funeral #4).
Two more resurrection beasts are killed. These are Number One and Number Four.
~5,000 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The expanding empire encounters Blood of Eden who has been searching for them this whole time.
BOE begins shepherding an insurgent movement to fight back against the nine houses.
5,000 - 1,000 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The evolving cultural concept of necromancer and cavalier begins to lead some necromantic aristocrats to choose cavaliers for their political value, not their skill at swordplay. This will be an ongoing debate for the next 5000 years.
The Master Warden of the Sixth sets the rules for the Swordsman’s Spire to prioritize genetic outreach potential first and competency second. These will stand unchanged for half a myriad until Palamedes interferes with them during his time in the position.
Cassiopeia explains how to use a relative’s blood to trick blood wards to Mercymorn.
Cytherea attempts to physically plant a bomb on a resurrection beast. She goes mad before she can even reach the surface and has to spend weeks recovering.
Cassiopeia attempts to draw Number Seven into the river physically. She is torn apart by angry ghosts and fails to harm it. The lyctors hold a funeral for her (funeral #5).
~1,000 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Matthias Nonius becomes the greatest swordsman of the Ninth. He fights the Saint of Duty and comes to owe him a debt.
~520 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Mercymorn and Augustine begin plotting Dios Apate, Major.
414 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Doctor Donald Sex dies with his final project - solving a puzzlebox lyctoral artifact made of real wood - unfinished. He is hallowed in the Copper Garden at the Library in recognition of his lifetime of achievement.
~300 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The Cohort acquires their last intelligence report on the status of the First House.
208 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
A Fifth ambassador visits the Library and attempts to commune with the ghost of Doctor Sex but only partially succeeds, allowing Sex to return as a revenant. Sex rides a thanergetic link to possess a skeleton servitor cleaning his coffin and then uses it to break into his own office and solve the puzzle cube he was working on prior to his death.
~108 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The Library begins renovations on the basement levels.
101 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
John leaves the Mithraeum and returns to imperial controlled space.
81 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
John begins living aboard the flagship Erebos.
~50 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The last black friar leaves the Cohort.
Part Two - Tragic Backstories
43 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Awake Remembrance Of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back To Reality Oops There Goes The Gravity becomes the leader of the Edenites. Under her direction they transition from plotting in the shadows to open warfare.
40 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Protesilaus Ebdoma is born on Cypris.
39 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Magnus Quinn is born on Rhax.
38 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Abigail Pent is born at Koniortos Court.
The oldest of the Asht brothers (Colum, Ram, Capris) is born.
36 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Ortus Nigenad is born in Drearburh.
35 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The middlest of the Asht brothers (Colum, Ram, Capris) is born.
33 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The youngest of the Asht brothers (Colum, Ram, Capris) is born.
28 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Dulcinea Septimus is born at Rhodes.
Marta Dyas is born on Trentham.
Protesilaus (18) seeks Cohort placement and does tours of duty to three separate front lines.
27 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Colum (6, 8, or 11) begins training as a warrior.
25 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
The Edenites learn the true nature of the resurrection beasts. They kill a herald and make anti-necromantic weapons from its corpse.
24 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Naberius Tern is born on Ida.
23 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Judith Deuteros is born interstellar.
22 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Coronabeth Tridentarius and Ianthe Tridentarius are born on Ida.
21 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Pyrrha enters a relationship with Wake.
Gideon enters a relationship with Wake.
Palamedes Sextus and Camilla Hect are born in the Library.
The eldest of Protesilaus and Mia’s children is born on Cypris.
Abigail (17) and Magnus (18) break up.
Magnus (18) briefly seeks Cohort placement before being rejected.
Sarpedon meets Mercymorn.
20 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Isaac’s father is killed by terrorists. His children will all be conceived posthumously via vat womb.
Mercymorn and Augustine successfully execute Dios Apate, Major seducing God and stealing his sperm.
Mercymorn sees Cytherea for the last time.
Wake receives the stolen sperm and a number of necromantic vat wombs. The eggs all die so she implants the remaining portion of the sample in herself.
Wake calls the baby growing in her stomach Bomb in anticipation of its role as a living weapon.
19 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Wake gives birth aboard her ship.
Gideon and Pyrrha confront Wake one last time en route to the Ninth House. The Saint of Duty wins the fight because Wake is still weakened from giving birth but takes pity on her and allows her to escape out an airlock in a haz suit.
Wake runs out of oxygen during atmospheric entry and dies. Her corpse crashes into the Ninth carrying a living baby.
The necromancers of the Ninth call Wake’s spirit. She shrieks “Gideon! Gideon! Gideon!” at them and escapes to become a revenant bound to her body. They misinterpret this as the baby’s name and call her Gideon Nav.
Priamhark and Pelleamana gas 200 children and channel the resulting thanergy into creating the perfect necromancer baby. An infant Gideon Nav is the only survivor.
Lachrimorta and Aisamorta go blind from their role in releasing the gas.
18 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Harrowhark Nonagesimus is born in Drearburh.
Marta (10) joins the Junior Cohort Territorials.
Abigail (20) and Magnus (21) get back together again.
Master Scholar Marygold Shasta dies.
17 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Silas Octakiseron is born.
16 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Ianthe (6) begins performing necromancy for Corona (6) to create the illusion that they’re both adepts.
Palamedes (5) gets lost and visits the Swordsman’s Spire for the first and last time.
15 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Jeannemary Chatur is born on Ops.
14 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Isaac Tettares is born on Tisis.
Corona (8) pantses Judith (8).
13 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Dulcinea (15) and Palamedes (8) become pen pals.
Marta (15) is commissioned to second lieutenant.
Juno Zeta marks the unsealing of Doctor Sex’s study on her calendar five years in advance of the event.
12 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Judith (11) joins the Cohort Junior Territorials.
Magnus (26) becomes seneschal of Koniortos Court.
Abigail (25) and Magnus (26) get married.
11 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Augustine sees Cytherea for the last time.
The youngest of Protesilaus and Mia’s children is born on Cypris.
Camilla (10) and Palamedes (10) are put on duty roster to clean the view screens and have allergic reactions to the panel cleaner.
10 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Gideon (8) begins training with the longsword.
Wake follows the thanergetic link to transfer her spirit from her bones to her daughter’s sword.
Naberius (14) becomes cavalier to Corona (12) and Ianthe (12)
9 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Judith (14) is commissioned to second lieutenant.
Camilla (12) becomes cavalier to Palamedes (12).
8 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Harrow (10) catches Gideon (11) speaking to her mother’s skeleton. They have a brutal fight.
Harrow opens the tomb, bypassing the final blood ward because her hands are still dripping with the blood of the daughter of God. She gazes upon the Body and falls deeply in love.
Gideon tells Harrow’s parents what she has done, prompting Priamhark, Pelleamana, and Mortus to hang themselves. Harrow chooses to live and puppets her parents’ corpses to maintain the illusion that all is well.
Harrow regularly hallucinates The Body speaking to her for the next year. The Body has black eyes and speaks in the voices of people Harrow has known. Afterwards, The Body only appears in her dreams
Palamedes (13) and Camilla (13) examine the study of Doctor Sex.
Palamedes (13) becomes Master Warden. Camilla (13) becomes the Warden’s Hand.
Marta (20) becomes cavalier to Judith (15). They are both attached to the Leviathan-class ship Emperor’s Dominion.
6 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Palamedes (15) invents a new flesh magic technique that allows Dulcinea (22) to intubate herself.
Marta (22) is promoted to first lieutenant.
Abigail (32) becomes the head of the Fifth House. Magnus (33) becomes her cavalier.
Dulcinea (22) permanently leaves the public eye.
Jeannemary (9) becomes cavalier to Isaac (8).
The last Ninth House citizens fighting in the Cohort are lost in action.
3 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Judith (20) is promoted to first lieutenant. She and Marta (25) are attached to Behemoth-class ship Rigor and see intragalactic action leading the in-ship tactics unit.
Marta (25) is ranked first in the system for her class in duelling.
Isaac (11) and Jeannemary (12) seek Cohort placement. They are denied on age grounds.
2 Years Before the Emperor’s Murder
Isaac (12) and Jeannemary (13) again seek Cohort placement. They are denied on health grounds after catching the mumps.
Mercymorn begins once again working with BOE.
Palamedes (19) proposes to Dulcinea (26). She gently turns him down.
Part Three - Present Day
14 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
Judith (22) is promoted to captain and returns to Trentham with Marta (27) to attend intelligence training.
The emperor sends letters inviting the scions of the nine houses to gather at Canaan House and become lyctors.
Harrow (17) foils Gideon’s (18) 87th attempt to escape from the Ninth.
Ortus (35) and Glaurica escape in Gideon’s stead. Crux murders them with a hidden bomb.
14 - 11 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
Gideon (18) spends three months learning the rapier to pretend to be Harrow’s cavalier primary.
11 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
Cytherea murders Dulcinea (27) and Protesilaus (39), taking their place. She puppets their corpses.
The heirs of the nine houses arrive at Canaan House. These are:
Judith (22) and Marta (27)
Coronabeth (21), Ianthe (21), and Naberius (23)
Isaac (13) and Jeannemary (14)
Abigail (37) and Magnus (38)
Palamedes (20) and Camilla (20)
Dulcinea (27) and Protesilaus (39)
Silas (16) and Colum (32, 34, or 37)
Harrow (17) and Gideon (18)
Cytherea makes an ostentatious entrance by fainting on the landing dock. Gideon catches her and attracts her attention. Harrow takes the opportunity to get a good look at Protesilaus and discover that he is a puppeted corpse.
Harrow makes a complete map of Canaan House, cataloguing every door in the building.
Harrow orders Gideon to fake a vow of silence.
Harrow, Palamedes, Silas, and Ianthe independently discover the hatch to the basement and begin pursuing the lyctor trials.
11 - 10 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
Gideon discovers the door to Gideon the First and Pyrrha’s lyctoral study.
Gideon meets the other cavaliers. She wins a duel with Magnus then loses a duel with Naberius in a way that makes it clear she would win in a real fight.
Cytherea completes the tooth trial in Lab 6 and claims its key.
Cytherea sends the corpse of Protesilaus to gum up the lock to her old lyctoral study with regenerating bone.
Cytherea sees Gideon’s eyes and discovers her true identity.
Palamedes and Camilla complete the trial in Lab 3 and claim its key.
Palamedes and Camilla complete the tooth trial in Lab 6 and are surprised to discover that Cytherea already has the key.
Silas and Colum complete the trial in Lab 9 and claim its key. Silas decides not to pursue further trials.
Harrow repeatedly attempts the transference trial in Lab 2 but fails to make headway without the help of her cavalier.
Ianthe begins reverse engineering the lyctoral theorems without directly attempting the trials.
10 Months and 5 Days Before the Emperor’s Murder.
Gideon realizes that Harrow hasn’t returned to their rooms for over 24 hours and begins searching for her. She meets Palamedes and Camilla and breaks her vow of silence to ask them for help. They show her the labs and help her rescue Harrow who is passed out in a bone cocoon.
10 Months and 4 Days Before the Emperor’s Murder.
Gideon and Harrow attempt the transference trial in Lab 2. Harrow works out the right approach but they have to return to their quarters to rest before she can solve it.
Palamedes and Camilla complete either the trial in Lab 4 or the trial in Lab 5 and claim its key (they do the other one the next day).
Abigail and Magnus host a party for their eleventh wedding anniversary. At the party Palamedes tells Abigail about the labs and Cytherea realizes just how dangerous a historian could be to her.
Abigail and Magnus complete the trial in Lab 7 and claim its key.
Cytherea murders Abigail and Magnus. She hides the key to Lab 7 inside Abigail’s corpse.
Harrow and Gideon return to the labs, complete the transference trial in Lab 2, and claim its key. On their way back they discover Abigail and Magnus’ corpses.
Silas attempts to summon Abigail and Magnus’ ghosts by soul siphoning Colum. Cytherea pretends to faint and puppets Protesilaus to punch Silas, disrupting the summoning. Colum challenges Protesilaus to a duel in response.
Gideon and Harrow inspect Gideon the First and Pyrrha’s lyctoral study. Harrow learns the secrets of regenerating bone.
10 Months and 3 Days Before the Emperor’s Murder.
Palamedes and Camilla complete either the trial in Lab 4 or the trial in Lab 5 and claim its key (whichever one they didn’t do the previous day).
Cytherea manipulates Gideon and Harrow into completing the avulsion trial in Lab 8 and claiming its key. This should kill Gideon but she survives because she is the daughter of God.
Harrow inspects Mercymorn and Cristabels’ lyctoral study and then gives the key to Cytherea.
Harrow accidentally removes the head of Protesilaus’ puppetted corpse. She hides it in her closet.
Palamedes reveals that there is only one copy of each key to Judith and Corona. Tensions begin to rise.
Cytherea incinerates the corpses of Protesilaus (now headless) and Dulcinea. Jeannemary and Isaac discover the ashes.
Cytherea fakes being seriously ill. The duel with the Eighth is called off when it is realized that Protesilaus is missing. Silas and Colum take keys 6 and 8 from her.
Marta duels Camilla at Judith’s direction. She loses badly.
Gideon takes Jeannemary and Isaac into the labs to look for Protesilaus. Cytherea murders Isaac, Gideon and Jeannemary flee to hide in Gideon the First and Pyrrha’s lyctoral study. Gideon falls asleep and when she awakens she discovers that Cytherea has murdered Jeannemary.
Silas invites Gideon to come talk in his quarters. She refuses.
10 Months and 2 Days Before the Emperor’s Murder.
Harrow and Palamedes agree to cooperate. Harrow removes the regenerating bone from the door to Cytherea and Loveday’s lyctoral study.
Harrow orders Gideon to stay away from Cytherea. They have a serious fight about it. In response Gideon takes Silas up on his offer and learns that Ortus is dead and the creche flu was a coverup.
Gideon discovers Protesilaus’ severed head in Harrow’s closet and tells Palamedes. He and Harrow accuse Cytherea of arriving with a puppeted corpse for a cavalier. She talks her way out of it.
Harrow confesses her tragic backstory to Gideon in the pool. They swear the cavalier oath together.
10 Months and 1 Day Before the Emperor’s Murder.
Harrow picks the lock to Cassiopeia and Nigella’s lyctoral study by reading the psychometric image of the key out of Palamedes’ mind and replicating it in bone. From the contents they discover the secret origin of the Canaan House constructs.
Judith and Marta kill Teacher, destroying the Canaan House constructs, and send for help, Marta dies in the attempt and Judith is grievously injured.
Ianthe discovers the key to Lab 7 inside Abigails' corpse and retrieves it. With the information inside the lab she completes the lyctoral megatheorem, murders Naberius and ascends to lyctorhood. Silas and Colum attack her in response, prompting her to kill Silas in self-defense. Colum’s empty soul-siphoned body becomes possessed by a monster and Ianthe kills him too.
Palamedes discovers Cytherea’s true identity and blows himself up attempting to kill her.
Cytherea chops off Ianthe’s arm.
Gideon sacrifices herself so that Harrow can become a lyctor. Harrow kills Cytherea with her help.
Camilla, Corona, Judith, and Gideon’s body disappear under mysterious circumstances. Camilla stops along the way to collect Palamedes’ skull.
Harrow and Ianthe are taken to the Erebos.
10 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder.
Harrow awakens on the Erebos and confronts John.
Harrow learns a number of important facts offscreen.
9 Months and 29 Days Before the Emperor’s Murder
Harrow lobotomizes herself with Ianthe’s help. She writes 24 letters to instruct her future self on how to live her life. She magically prevents Ianthe from telling her anything about Gideon using a Ninth house technique known as the sewn tongue.
10 - 9 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
BOE destroys three Cohort warships with three orbital radiation missiles, killing 18,000 soldiers.
Harrow spends weeks convulsing in the aftermath of her lobotomy. She begins to once again hallucinate The Body speaking to her in the voices of people she has known. This time The Body has golden eyes and follows a half-step behind her like a cavalier.
John tells Harrow that he will unfreeze 500 cryopreserved resurrected souls and send them to the Ninth to renew the house.
In the river, Harrow gathers the spirits of those who died at Canaan House on an enormous dream bubble stage.
Mercymorn gets a chance to see Gideon’s body while it is in BOE custody. She fails to check the color of the eyes.
9 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
Someone tries to kill Harrow in the middle of the night. She defends herself, passes out, and awakens to find the evidence of the attack has been covered up.
Ianthe gives Harrow the letters instructing her how to live her life. Harrow kisses Ianthe in order to check that she has not replaced her jaw to escape from the sewn tongue.
Mercy, Harrow, Ianthe, and John travel to the Mithraeum.
The Erebos travels to each of the Nine Houses to send home the bodies of those who died at Canaan House. It then continues on to the Ninth to deliver its new citizens.
Harrow meets Mercymorn, Augustine, and the Saint of Duty.
The lyctors hold a funeral for Cytherea (funeral #6).
Wake causes Harrow to sleepwalk and stab Cytherea’s corpse with her sword. This creates a thanergetic link that allows her to possess it.
9 - 6 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
Mercymorn teaches Harrow how to kill planets.
Ianthe struggles to swordfight with her bad arm.
The Saint of Duty begins regularly attacking Harrow on John’s orders.
Pyrrha, possessing Gideon, begins spending time with Wake possessing Cytherea.
Harrow begins spending large amounts of time with Ianthe.
Augustine accuses Mercymorn of cooperating with BOE. He threatens to rat her out to John.
Harrow begins hearing noises from the chapel where Cytherea’s body is laid to rest. Ianthe either does not hear them or decides to gaslight Harrow about them.
In the river Harrow arrives at Canaan House with Ortus Nigenad as her cavalier. She begins hallucinating angry messages from Wake.
6 - 4 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
Harrow kills her 13th planet.
Harrow confesses how her parents created her to John. He tells her that no one has the right to know.
In the river Wake begins intruding on Harrow’s play in the form of a monster called The Sleeper. She kills the puppets representing Judith, Palamedes, and Camilla.
Harrow catches Pyrrha possessing Gideon making out with Wake possessing Cytherea.
Harrow encounters Cytherea’s body walking on its own. Ianthe refuses to help her deal with it.
4 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
The Saint of Duty attacks Harrow in the bath, making her so paranoid she stops sleeping.
Augustine issues an ultimatum to Ianthe that she must fix her arm in five days or he will no longer teach her.
Harrow comes inches away from murdering the Saint of Duty with a bowl of soup.
Harrow cuts off Ianthe’s bad arm and remakes it in bone, solving her problems. To thank her Ianthe arranges for Mercy and Augustine to distract God.
Augustine convinces Mercymorn to help him with his plan by promising not to tell John about her dealings with BOE. The two of them execute Dios Apate, Minor seducing God once again and giving Harrow a chance to murder the Saint of Duty. She discovers him being murdered by Wake and instead chooses to save him. Pyrrha takes the opportunity to tell her how to protect herself properly.
In the river Silas kills the puppet of Corona and then leaps into the abyss. Abigail helps the ghosts of Isaac and Jeannemary exit the bubble.
2 Months Before the Emperor’s Murder
Mercymorn works with BOE to arrange for Harrow to encounter Cam, Corona, and Judith while killing her 14th planet. She confirms that Palamedes’ ghost is intact and staying inside a river bubble bound to his bones.
2 Months - The Night Before the Emperor’s Murder
Mercymorn teaches Harrow and Ianthe how to kill a resurrection beast.
The lyctors begin training as a team within the river.
John tells Harrow that he wishes she were his daughter. She confesses to opening the tomb and he refuses to believe her.
Harrow discovers Cytherea’s corpse possessed by Wake beneath her bed. Again Ianthe either cannot see her or chooses to gaslight Harrow about her.
The Saint of Duty makes one final attempt to kill Harrow. She convinces him that it’s not worth it at this point.
The Night Before the Emperor’s Murder
Ianthe begs Harrow on her knees to allow her to undo the lobotomy so she can live. Harrow refuses.
Number Seven arrives at the Mithraeum.
Mercymorn kills Harrow with her own rapier.
Gideon awakens in Harrow’s body and saves her from the heralds.
Mercymorn encounters Gideon in Harrow’s body and realizes the truth about perfect lyctorhood. Mercy tries to kill Gideon but is stopped by Wake with a gun full of herald bullets.
Augustine encounters Gideon in Harrow’s body and realizes the truth about perfect lyctorhood.
Ianthe encounters Gideon in Harrow’s body and gives her a letter with her shades in it.
In the river Harrow remembers her true past. She and the ghosts of Canaan House confront and defeat Wake’s invading spirit by summoning the ghost of Nonius.
Nonius repays his debt to the Saint of Duty by coming to his aid battling Number Seven in the river. Ortus, Protesilaus, and Marta join him. Gideon dies in the battle but not before forcing Number Seven to flee.
Mercy and Augustine confront John while Gideon and Ianthe watch. The truth of Dios Apate, Major, the Ninth House operation, and perfect lyctorhood is all revealed.
Pyrrha destroys Cytherea’s body, banishing Wake.
Mercy attempts to kill John by disintegrating him. He reassembles himself and kills her. Augustine pulls the Mithraeum into the river in an attempt to force him into Hell, Ianthe saves him and lets Augustine be dragged under.
Gideon and Pyrrha swim for the surface of the river and drown.
Harrow seals herself inside a metaphysical tomb, relinquishing her body to Gideon.
6 Months After the Emperor’s Murder
Camilla, Corona, Judith, and an unidentified fourth person live in hiding on a non-imperial planet.
2K notes · View notes
long dean/cas fic recs
here is THEE masterpost of long-af fics i’ve been promising!
fics are organized by length from shortest to longest, starting at 50k words
they’re a mix of au’s and canonverse (mostly canonverse since that’s what i typically prefer)
i’ve added ratings, official descriptions, and my own supplementary description/notes/notable trigger warnings if neccesary
asterisks are added to my fave fics
this list will probably be updated with additions in the future, i’ll mark any new ones by bolding the text (last updated: 5/29/21)
all rec posts
Long Fics (50k to 80k):
Though The Course May Change (explicit/51k)
After a couple who went missing several years ago from an Oregon couples retreat are mysteriously returned on the same night that another disappears, Dean and Charlie plan to go undercover to find the cause--until Dean's foot meets his mouth, and he finds himself fake-engaged to Castiel instead.
(accidental) fake dating case-fic set in an alternate s9. cute, funny, has interesting monster of the week.
Teaching Poetry to Fish (mature/52k)*
In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.
(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)
really good cas pov/lore- heavy fic! feat. many fish and actual poetry.
any port in a storm (mature/53k)
The angels have fallen, leaving Castiel graceless and Dean with, well, more of other people’s problems. When a string of couples goes missing on the east coast, Dean and Cas decide to investigate—and find themselves trapped and hunted on a couples’ counseling cruise. Although battling monsters at sea is dangerous enough, sorting through emotional baggage proves to be far more deadly. (And, in which Cas embarks to find his missing grace and Dean is put out. Not necessarily in that order.)
alternate s9, fake dating case fic set on a cruise ship for couples going though rough patches. they have to talk their shit out while cas still adjusts to being human and tries to figure out what metatron might be up to.
Something in the world is wrong.Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.
Or can it?
EXCELLENT fix it/saving cas from the empty fic.
The Prophet Must Die (mature/54k)
"What about Castiel? He seems helpful... and dreamy."
Something about the comment just isn't sitting right, and Dean's jaw twitches. He stares at the wall in the dark, and at a quarter past four in the morning, it hits him.
"Asshole," Dean hisses under his breath, sitting up straight, "that sonofabitch kept publishing."
s8, dean finds the supernatural books online and has some Realizations™. does some pretty clever stuff with established prophet powers and lore.
Games of Skill and Fortune (teen/54k)
Turns out, time-sharing your brain with a half-crazy archangel nursing a solitaire addiction is even less fun than it sounds.
(In which Dean kicks out one Michael only to go looking for another.)
to keep au!michael from destroying heaven dean becomes the vessel for the og michael, who is not only extremely weak and traumatized from his time in the cage but also has annoying habits like gambling, les mis stanning, and berating dean for leading on his little brother. interesting heaven/angel lore, good michael chara developement.
Tall Grass (explicit/57k)
“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says.
Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away.
Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.
cas becomes thee ultimate plant dad. featuring the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual fun botanical facts.
A Judicious Application of Free Will (explicit/57k)
Dean lives the simple life in Lawrence, running the family business at Winchester Hardware. When Castiel moves into the neighborhood, they strike up a friendship that has the chance to become something more. But before that can run its course, the secrets of Castiel’s past catch up with them both, and their whole world changes.
a very old-school, canon-divergent disguised as a full-on au fic.
Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.
A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.
after s11 dean, sam, and eileen have their memories of cas mysteriously erased. three years later they run into a man they only recognize as their friend claire’s long lost father, but dean soon begins to realize that he might be the key to understanding the strange void in his memories and feelings. tw for torture aftermath.
To Mend The Cracks With Gold (explicit/59k)
After almost losing Charlie to the Stynes, and almost losing Cas in the fight that follows, Dean Winchester is ready to do whatever it takes to rid himself of the Mark of Cain. But when the solution turns out to lie in unfinished Winchester business - shutting the gates of hell - Dean begins to realize this is a quest he might not survive.
au where cas saves charlie’s life after her run in with the stynes and works with her (and kevin’s ghost) to reopen heaven, while dean comes up with a new plan to permanently get rid of the mark of cain involving the trials from s8. dark/angsty but has happy ending. tw for canon-typical suicide ideation and child (teen but still) death.
Best friends since childhood, Dean and Cas have been on shaky ground for years now. When an argument somehow leads to a bet about who’s better at relationships - one that calls for six months of living together as fake boyfriends and going to couples therapy every week - Cas may get more than he bargained for . . .
normal world au, dean and cas pretend to date to win a bet and get in over their heads. its from cas’s pov (who is more endverse adjacent characterization wise), and there’s a sequel retelling it from dean’s pov i haven’t read yet. tw’s for drug usage/mentions of past drug usage and overdose.
what stays (and what fades away) (explicit/64k)
Cas Novak’s life is perfect. He has a job that he loves and friends who support him. Most importantly, he has his husband, Dean Winchester, and his two adopted children, Claire and Jack. With them, nothing could ever go wrong.
That is, until he starts having flashes of a life that isn’t his and meets someone who shares his husband’s face but not his personality, someone who insists that he’s someone, something, different altogether. Cas’ life shatters when he’s dragged into a world that he doesn’t belong to and doesn’t understand.
Canon divergent from mid s15, cas gets trapped in a djinn-dream based spell and thinks he has a normal life with dean and their two kids--even after he gets woken up. As they attempt to break the spell and bring cas back to himself dean does a deep dive into both of their memories and has some significant realizations about the ways they’ve both hurt each other over the years, how to start healing, and the true nature of their feelings for each other.
Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) (explicit/66k)
When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky.
The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face.
Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.
s15, the divorce arc is interrupted early on when dean and cas both lose their memories and come to the reasonable conclusion that they are probably serial killers and also a couple. the memory part is fun but most of the fic is about them reacting to the fallout after remembering everything and slowly working their shit out through various means.
The Goldenrod Revisions (mature/66k)*
A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.
five new episodes in scripts format following 15x18 that not only resolve every single plot point but goes on to radically restructure the entire world of the series.
True as It Can Be (explicit/71k)
Growing up in a small town in Kansas, Dean learned from a young age that there was only one rule that couldn’t be broken, one place he couldn’t go - through the forest, to the long-abandoned Angel’s Hollow. But when Sam disappears, Dean’s left with no choice but to follow his brother's tracks through the dangers of the wood; little does he know that the most dangerous creature of all lurks not among the trees, but in the Hollow itself. Dean sets Sam free, at the cost of his own liberty - and, bound by magic, resigns himself to living out the rest of his days in the Hollow, at the mercy of the being within. The angel of Angel’s Hollow, however, has a story - is a prisoner, too, as much as Dean is. Only one thing can free them both - but it is impossible. For, after all: who could ever learn to love a beast?
beauty and the beast inspired au.
i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees) (explicit/74k)*
Dean keeps going back.
When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.
He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.
He likes to talk.
There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.
Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.
widower era-through-alternate post-canon fic inspired by the leaked 13x06 “tombstone” script where dean spread cas’ ashes by the windmill, and they (kind of) get together after his resurrection.
When the Bough Breaks (mature/74k)
Years after the Darkness has been defeated, Dean and Cas are living the apple pie life in small-town Kansas. They don’t hunt anymore, and would like to keep it that way, but some young hunters knocking at their door have different plans.Dean, Cas and Sam reluctantly agree to help out, but what ought to be a simple case becomes way more complicated and dangerous than they counted on. And when the hunt starts to invade the normal lives they've carved out for themselves and their kids, Dean and Cas begin to wonder if escaping the hunting life altogether might have been wishful thinking.
future/kid fic that takes place way after an alternate ending to s11 where dean and cas got together, eventually retired and started a family. I’m not normally a fan of kid oc’s but i actually enjoyed these ones and the way dean cas and sam juggled their new families and lives with their past and not-so-past activities as hunters.
the cost of a thing (mature/74k)
16 months ago, Cas became human.
12 months ago, Cas left the bunker and a broken-hearted Dean behind.
Now they must work a case together, where married couples are dying mysterious deaths and the only way to earn the neighbors' trust is by pretending to be married. Slowly, Dean finds that he loves being in a relationship with Cas, fake or not, and Cas finds his loneliness retreating, despite the harsh reality looming right around the corner. As Dean and Cas navigate this fake, but all too real, relationship, can they find the monster that is on a mysteriously motivated killing spree before it’s too late?
fake married case fic, the trials in s8 were done differently and resulted in dean and cas falling out and sam tries to get them to be friends again by working together on a case. good sam/cas friendship, slow reveal of exactly what happened, interesting new motw.
The Harvelle Gospels (mature/79k-2 part series)*
When Jo was on the cusp of 23, her mother was burned alive in an ambush by some followers of the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Back then she didn’t know this was all part of some cosmic plan, that Ellen was supposed to be the Righteous Woman to set off the Apocalypse. No, she just lost her mother, and she did the only thing she could think of: she sold her soul to the same demons who murdered her. Ellen’s soul was freed and laid to rest, and Jo took up the mantle, and broke when she picked up the knife, broke the whole damn world.
au where jo is the righteous woman/michael sword/protagonist, anna is the angel who raised her from perdition, and sam and dean are just important side characters. jo/anna is the main (albeit slow-burn) pairing, dean/cas still happens but is on and off until the end. really really well done and fun restructuring of canon and character roles to fit in this au.
Really Long Fics (80k+ to 150k)
What is Hidden, What is Seen (mature/83k)*
The Darkness has descended, and Castiel must make a choice. What, in reality, is the nature of Free Will, and where does love end and self-effacement begin? And why didn't Castiel know about the Mark of Cain and its relation to The Darkness in the first place?
alternate s11 where the darkness is an apocalyptic-level problem right off the bat and dean, sam and cas all actually deal with the emotional damage caused by the mark of cain. angsty, cathartic, cool worlbuilding/improving on established lore and worldbuilding).
On the Wings of War (teen/85k)
The four Horsemen are not just people with fancy rings. They aren’t even demons with fancy rings. They are another species entirely, a force unto themselves, and Lucifer is kidding himself if he thinks that they are at his beck and call. They are separate. They are neutral. Dean Winchester is not built like them.
s5, dean fucks around with war’s ring and finds out when he becomes the NEW war. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights, aesthetically a tad lovecraftian. tw for some signifigant body horror.
So Says The Sword (explicit/85k)***
The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’
Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.
THEEE cas pov/trueform angels/time travel/canon divergent s4 fic of all time. quite literally required reading for ANYONE invested in these characters, even if you haven’t actually watched the show (it’ll still work if you just know some dashboard-osmosis basics).
a way to go (explicit/90k/wip)
God, Cas can fuck him up so easily, like he’s come across a stray thread and is just pulling without a thought. “I’m gonna get us both killed,” Dean promised him, and his voice was choked.
Cas’s answering smile was so wide it split his face. “What a way to go.”
After Zachariah’s vision of the future, Dean doesn’t reconcile with his brother. He doesn’t say yes to Michael. Instead, the world slowly goes to hell around him and he finds that all they have left, him and Cas, are each other.
Deviation from canon post-5.04.
a road to endverse-but-slightly-to-the left fic where a lot of things change but a few key things, unfortunately, stay the same (also dean’s trans). Unfortunately a wip that hasn’t been updated in quite a while but there’s plenty to read right now and the author appears to still be active so still worth checking out if this sounds good to you imo!
Jesus Christ is dead. Somehow, that isn't the worst part of Dean's week.
yes jesus is an important character in this, yes he is killed off in the first chapter, yes it is extremely blasphemous in a fun sexy way. old school alternate s5 fic with a very different interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell, among other things; unfortunately like many other old school fic (2010 in this case) it is rather misogynistic at times and particularly character assassinates anna in one chapter :/. tw for aforementioned blasphemy/misogyny/some ableist language.
take the long way home (explicit/95k)
Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself.
Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance.
Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together.
late season-ish/post-canon au where sam and dean decide to retire after a hunt goes very bad and cas becomes human, cas becomes a solo hunter after taking this very badly. cas is in a really bad place mentally and sometimes physically for a lot of this and he and dean have a lot of issues but they mostly work it out and end up heading down the road to the vermont b&b dean joked about at some point in the show. also sam and jack are doing their own thing mostly but they show up eventually, and there’s side sam/rowena. tw’s for depression/suicide ideation/animal death/hunt-related self harm/brief non-con attempt (siren attack).
a turn of the earth (mature/95k)
Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.
(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)
time travel fic where s10!cas keeps popping up in pre-canon dean’s life up until the hellhounds take his soul to hell and cas is seemingly completely erased from the timeline. slow burn, sad at times but has happy ending, also at one point cas meets john and immediately punches him in the face.
dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d’s to the destination) (explicit/108k)*
Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.
au after 15x17. dean finally gets to enjoy a mostly normal life with his friends and family after chuck is defeated sans any love confessions, but soon starts realizing that his feelings for cas aren’t really all that platonic (aka THEE sobsicles reverse confession fic).
Remaining Grace (explicit/109k)
Sam's missing his soul, Castiel has a pissy archangelic nemesis, and Dean wonders if he'll be spending the rest of his life making sure the Apocalypse doesn't go ahead as scheduled. Still, though. He's happy to see Cas. Indiana wasn't really working out.
Alternate season 6, in a universe where Castiel made a different choice, and things snowball from that point forward.
cas reaches out to dean instead of just watching him rake leaves and their soul-bond becomes the key to defeating raphael. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.
Bumper Cars (e/111k)
Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.
very slow-burn case fic that’s also essentially one big middle finger to john’s parenting skills. tw for descriptions of (past) child/teen death and canonical child abuse.
My Roots Take Flight (mature/125k)*
After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.
alternate s4/reverse au where cas is a human hunter and dean’s an angel...at first glance anways! tw for brief depiction and frequent mentions of a psychiatric hospital setting/ableist language/graphic torture.
Epic Length Fics (150k+)
Plot Holes (teen/160k)
Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.
There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.
Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.
With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.
a very metatextual alternate s9, where pretty much all the plot points of s8 are resolved and all the major reality-shaking events of the past few seasons have consequences on an interdimensional scale.
Under the cover of a masquerade ball, Castiel has five nights to recover the key to his people's freedom. The world has changed greatly in the six centuries since their banishment into the void, but the task isn't impossible. Unfortunately for Castiel, this is going to involve talking to people - especially the Knight Prince who has taken an interest in Castiel and his "costume" wings.
fantasy au loosely based on cinderella, has really excellent worldbuilding and a cool magic system.
Profoundly Different (explicit/190k)
"Castiel?" Sam calls out, carefully. Both of them lower their guns but don’t put them away, yet: there’s no sign of a struggle, but the guy did just break out of an insane asylum by squishing an orderly. With a bureau that he shouldn't have been able to move. "We're not gonna hurt you. We're here to help. My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean."There's a loud silence. Dean can hear the wind rustling through the structure.A deep voice suddenly speaks up. It’s coarse and raspy and sounds like it hurts coming out; he’s never heard anything like it. It sends shivers down Dean's spine."Dean?” the man asks. “Dean Winchester?"
(A Season 4 AU: what if the fallen angel Dean and Sam ran into was Castiel, not Anna?)
cas is both the fallen angel instead of anna and the one who raised dean from perdition thanks to time travel, and the main plot points of s4 proceed from there. ngl it gets very horny very quickly but if that’s not your thing there’s quite a lot of plot to work with, and i enjoyed the way things were rewritten to work with the new timeline.
Redemption Road (multi-part series/652k)
Team Free Will is sent reeling as Sam struggles with the aftermath of his time in the cage, and Dean struggles to cope with the loss of his best friend. Meanwhile, Castiel's miracles have unforeseen consequences that may force Bobby's hand…
an alternate s7 and onwards that was created by a collaborative writing group back in the lj era (and has aged comparitively well compared to a LOT of popular fics from that time). has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans/the lovecratian mythos connection, and uses ‘the song of songs’ and the concept of dean raising cas from perdition as major inspirations (for the first part at least).
ngl when i most recently reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good but not required to enjoy the first half.
Down to Agincourt (multi-part series/wip/basically a million words)*
The world's already over and they're already dead. All they're doing now is marking time until the end.
yes its a million words and counting. yes its a wip (which i normally avoid) . yes its an endverse fic (which i also normally avoid). and yes its INCREDIBLY difficult to describe. all that being said, its SO good and unique, contains multitudes of lesser tropes (fake dating/slow burn/etc), has phenomenal worldbuilding, complex magic systems, a host of really great and complex original characters, and a surprising amount of pan-hellenic historical/mythological references. most importantly despite being endverse its surprisingly light (relatively speaking) and is not graphic at all when it comes to the canonical aspects of it (orgies/drug use/rampant death/etc), and i actually really like this version of endverse!cas!
tbqh i’ve only read the first three books so far but i honestly recommend trying at least the first one if any of this sounds like it might be up your alley.
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step-dad nanami + brat taming 😼?
dark content event!!!
yes yes yes yes yes yes yesyyesysyesy mmm so good mm very tasty idea ily and i got very carried away
nanami + brat taming
tw: nsfw 18+, f!reader, psuedocest (nanami is your step-dad), brat-taming, noncon/dubcon, impact play, power imbalance, mild size kink?, manhandling, fingering, nanami said fuck jujutsu and is a very rich business man au
you knew your mother’s new fiancé was a moderately successful business man, but you certainly weren’t expecting to pull up to a security gate on the day that you moved in with him. a large house constructed with dark-colored bricks loomed over your mom’s dented toyota prius, and you wondered what the hell one lonely man needed all this space for.
the white-haired butler that opened the front door and offered to carry some of your bags seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t help but scoff at the entire situation. walking onto the pristine and shiny floors in your scuffed up sneakers made you wonder just how your mom had managed to gold-dig her way into this one. either she was terribly convincing, or this guy was horribly desperate — either way you weren’t opposed to reaping the benefits. a butler, a giant in-ground pool, a bedroom that was three times the size of your old one?
yeah, you’d settle in real quick.
and you did just that, taking whatever you wanted and not feeling a shred of guilt for it. this guy, nanami kento, had more than enough money to go around, so why shouldn’t you indulge yourself? why shouldn’t you throw unsolicited pool parties while they’re at work? invite boys over to spend time in your king sized bed? your mom forced you out of your hometown to move in with this rich asshole, might as well make the most of it.
and things were going pretty fucking smoothly if you do say so yourself, or at least they were until nanami caught you sneaking a boy through your window one night.
you thought your were so smart, so slick with the way that you used his house as your personal playground behind his back. but why would he own such an esteemed property and not have security cameras? you weren’t smart at all, in fact you were incredibly, incredibly stupid.
and you’ve been getting on nanami’s nerves for a while, sashaying around the house in tiny outfits surrounded by a horde of immature boys. he’d watch you through the security footage while he worked — blood boiling at the way you flaunted his home as if it were your own.
those boys were never going to be enough for you; you’d walk all over them with your inflated ego and terrible attitude. you needed a man, someone grown, who could put your back in your place — you needed nanami — and fuck, he’d wanted you since the day you walked through his front door. he’d been patient, very patient, but this was enough to snap the thin wire that was holding him back.
he didn’t hesitate to kick the boy right back out the window he climbed through, threatening to call the cops if he didn’t leave his fucking property right now. and then a firm hand was wrapped around your wrist, dragging you up the stairs and into his bedroom.
he gave your arm a harsh tug, tossing your body towards his large neatly made bed. the edge of the raised mattress whacked you in the gut, your face falling forward and mashing into the silky comforter.
“what the fu-,” you snapped your head back to look at him, but were immediately met with a rolled up black sock being shoved into the back of your mouth.
you coughed and whined through the fabric as he grasped both your wrists in his one large hand, his other weaving the leather belt that was previously looped through his trousers around your wrists. he had zero patience for you right now, and he was making that evidently clear.
“i’ve tried to stay patient with you, but you’ve forced my hand this time,” he looked at you with dark eyes, one of his hands undoing the zipper at the back of your skirt.
you tried to kick with your legs, tried to cuss him out through the sock, but it was entirely ineffective, his strong hands holding you down and the cotton preventing a single coherent word from leaving your lips. your skirt was gliding to your feet now, your bare ass exposed and looking nanami right in the eyes.
“sneaking in another boy? how many times should i spank you for that? five? ten? i think ten would be suitable in this situation,” he used one hand to keep you pinned to the mattress, and the other to caress the smooth skin of your upper thigh, “what do you think?”
obviously you tried to reason with him, tell him that you didn’t deserve any spanks, that you weren’t a child, that this whole thing was fucking weird — but none of that made it out of your mouth, not through the soggy sock that was still in your way.
“i’m glad you agree, ten it is,” he gave you a thoughtful look, raising up his hand in preparation to strike you for the first time.
his hand swung down with incredible force, a piercing smacking sound echoing through the room as you squealed and kicked under his touch. it felt like a thousand pins piercing through your skin, a blazing fire that burned through his fingers and straight through to your brain.
the second smack was brought down with even more strength, your whole body lurching in response to the impact. you still kicked, still fought, still screamed through gag for him to fuck off, but a small part of you was already anticipating number three.
the third strike to your backside flipped a switch in your brain, your legs falling limp and your screams replaced with pitiful whimpers and whines. his hand on your skin was starting to hurt so good, bits of the sock becoming trapped in your clenched teeth.
four, five, and six came quickly after, only a few seconds of rest between each of them — and nanami knew that he’d won when your feet began to push up onto your tip-toes, your ass wiggling closer to him as you waited for more.
“you count the next ones,” he reached forward and plucked the disgusting sock out of your mouth, tossing it to the floor and caressing your cheek.
seven came down hard, goosebumps lining your arms as you yelped; your tied up hands grasping at air. a shameful “seven”, rolled from your tongue a few moments later, your shaky voice flooding nanami’s ears.
“good girl,” he cooed, “three more”.
the next three stung the worst, nanami hissing at how badly it hurt his own hand — but your were a lightheaded, dizzy mess; practically drooling on his sheets by the time he was done. you’d done exactly what he asked, taken all ten and even counted out the last four — you were so good for him, and it was so easy.
he helped you roll over onto your back and then slipped his hand under the waistband of your panties, pulling and letting them fall down to your ankles. you’d taken the punishment pretty well, so it was only fair that you were rewarded now.
he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, one of his hands pressing down onto your puffy clit. you knew how inappropriate this was all becoming, but your head was much too hazy to care.
he dipped two of his fingers low, slipping them into your slimy cunt and gently pushing them up inside you. his fingers were long, a sharp whimper flying through your teeth as he curled his fingers against your walls.
what the hell would happen if your mom got home right now? if she saw her soon-to-be husband fist-deep in her daughter?
those were the things you should have been thinking, but they didn’t cross your mind once. how could you care about the what if’s when nanami was stuffing you full with his thick fingers on one hand, and expertly massaging your clit with the other.
no one your age had this experience, and none of the boys you’d messed with had ever made you feel this good with such little effort. nanami was opening your eyes to his expert hands, and you began to wonder how many sorry brats had ended up in this exact spot before. maybe this is what he did for fun — romancing middle-aged women just to prey on their college-aged daughters until they inevitably get caught one day — and then the cycle continues.
but right now, on the edge of losing yourself around his fingers, you didn’t care if you were the hundredth step-daughter he’d done this to — it was worth it.
your walls clamped around his fingers as he thrusted them deeper, his other thumb rubbing hard and consistent circles over your sensitive nub. it was impossible to hold out any longer, the ball in your stomach flying undone as you rolled your hips into his hand and creamed all over his fingers. the room was filled with the prettiest mewls and whines, your body shaking and lurching as he kept feeling you even after your orgasm was fading.
only once you accidentally kicked him from the intensity of the overstimulation did he unsheath his fingers from your cunt, his skin glistening with your fluids. he shoved them into your mouth, your eyes widening as he offered a simple: “suck”.
but you did what you were told, you’d quickly learned that disobeying him would only lead to something worse. he smirked for the first time after he plucked them from your mouth, your lips making a satisfying popping sound.
“never gonna invite those boys over again, right?” he taunted you, an obvious bulge sitting in his dress pants.
you quickly shook your head no.
but if breaking the rules meant this would happen again?
you’d be breaking them every goddamn day.
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SFW Alphabet: Karl Heisenberg
Long post under the cut lads. no spoilers i can think of but is a bit of speculation
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Karl can be quite rude and sarcastic, even to the people he loves. If you're familiar with the concept of negging, that's sort of what he’s like. It’s mostly done in jest, so i hope you have a good sense of humor. He’s liable to brush off your concerns but i imagine he’d be very hurt and annoyed at himself if he thought he really upset or offended you.
His language of love leans towards gift giving. He likes to tinker and make little things. He’s quite artistic, if you leave him alone for an hour with nothing to do he’ll make origami cranes, bend paperclips into little people or doodle on post it notes. He’ll give you these in an off handed sort of way but he also likes to put time into making things especially for you: metal work sculptures, wood carvings, trinkets and gadgets for you to use.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
I think this was the first thing i ever said about Karl but he looks like he’d be great to go on the piss with, you know? Like he’d be great for a night out but i don't know if i would depend on him for much unless i knew him REALLY well. I imagine you’d go out for a few drinks and wake up the next morning in a kanoo full of strawberries, in someone else's clothes wearing handcuffs and cuddling a penguin you and Karl stole from the zoo. It would be a lot of fun but Karl would not be the person you wanted to spend the next morning with, horrifically hung-over and arguing about the best way to make a fry for breakfast. He seems like the kind of friend to rock up at your house at 3 am , bang on your door with his hammer and yell “Get up loser, we’re going to mcdonalds!” then bodily drag you out of your bed by the feet if you did not come willingly. “Quit your whining, it’ll be fun!” is his favorite phrase.
How would a friendship between you two start? He seems like a really friendly guy in a sort of superficial way. He makes friends easily but the people he can really depend on, he can count on his hand. My mind instantly says you worked at the factory and he invited you out after work? Maybe you made a joke while working and he laughed? Or maybe you were from outside the village, got lost and he gave you directions to the nearest inn? It probably happened from him inserting himself in your life and just dragging you along for the ride
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
The second thing I ever said about Karl is that he looks like he gives GREAT hugs. Man round, man fluffy,Him somft. One might even call him Friend shaped. He hugs as a greeting, as a goodbye and everything in between. He likes to throw his arm around people as he walks places, you on one arm and his hammer in the other. He really strikes me as an incredibly touch starved person. I mean, if he’s as old as the other lords, when's the last time he had a damn hug? They don't strike me as particularly affectionate people, his sister especially. The lycans like pats too! Karl has to give out pats daily or he’ll have a bunch of huffy lycans on his hands. Do you know who never gets pats? Poor Karl!
I worry it's been so long he might not know how to just sit with a friend and cuddle on the sofa. He’d fidget and want to be doing something instead of just relaxing. You’d need to weight him down with a blanket or drape your legs across his lap to keep him there.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Ehhhh….the long and the short of it is, no and he's not very good at being domestic either. I canon he grew up in the castle, he had servants look after cooking and cleaning and so on. His parents probably never thought he’d live to be ancient and need to know how to cook and clean for himself so he had to learn later in life. Where Alcina was presumably raised to know she’d need to carry on the dimitrescu name, Karl was probably told to think carefully about who he’d want to eventually pass the factory down to. What with being nearly immortal he never gave it much thought and now it just seems pointless to him. He likes his own space too much, the freedom to do whatever and whenever he pleases.
He seems like an incredibly chill person about things that might stress out others, but i feel like he might occasionally stress clean. Maybe something he picked up from one of his parents or a maid who looked after him. Sort of “we’re having company over so the house needs to be spotless “ sort of thing. Again, he’s not good at it, it's mostly just a distraction tactic so he can keep busy and not think about whatever is stressing him out.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
God, I hope he never has to break up with someone. He’s going to be a dramatic mother fucker about it. He has absolutely been broken up with before, many times. Sometimes he forced the other party to break up with him so he wouldn't have to, sometimes they left of their own volition. Karl as a partner can be...an acquired taste. Yes he’s loving but he’s not kind. Yes you would be financially secure, but you’d have to take his name and leave your old life behind. He’s got money but he's going to have to leave you alone a lot to earn it. Then there’s the inlaws. He’s going to have to keep his sister from eating you at thanksgiving dinners, or Donna from making you a part of her doll house or moreau from accidentally drowning you.
All of that is a lot of stress and hassle for one person and he’s more than aware of the sacrifices someone would have to make to be with him long term. Don't even get him started on the whole living forever thing. but,I suppose when you're nearly immortal there's no rush on these sorts of things, is there?
If you break up with him, it's going to be a lot of “yeah i get it” and then sorrow, self pity and drinking in private. A lot of swearing at his dumb family, their dumb rules and this dumb situation he’s found himself in.
If he was angry enough to break up with you over something? He's a drama queen. Seals you in a saw style trap and says you can go if you get out. But to get out you’d have to read some private dms or do the laundry you said you'd do but never did while Karl chirps over the tannoy “OH SO YOU DO KNOW HOW”
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Uh...im sure ill upset a lot of you reading this but no. Karl doesn't really want to get married. A partner? Sure he’d love one if he could find someone willing to put up with all this bullshit but i spouse? That's different. He’s stuck with you. You're stuck with him and the rest of his family. God help you.
There's a few reasons he’s not in love with this whole commitment thing: first and most pressing is the age thing. What happens if you grow old without him? How will he cope without you? Or worse? What if Miranda decides to make you like them? You’ll be stuck with them forever, your own family will all grow old without you? That was hard enough the first time, how will he do it again? And what if you broke up? He can't just start releasing nearly immortal people into the world willy-nilly. Does he kill you post breakup??? Does he have to keep you in the village forever? What if it makes you miserable? How will he live with himself????
There are more but these are the kinds of things that keep him awake at night. He might do questionable things, bad things even, but something about inflicting that sort of suffering on someone you claim to love makes him feel squirmy and uncomfortable and he just doesn't want to deal with it.
I can foresee an alternate scenario: an arranged marriage to gain the village an ally or more power. Karl is the younger child, Alcina is the one with all the money and power. Perhaps a marriage to the child of a wealthy or powerful person would make some use of the second child? It would probably be someone like Alcina or Miranda who arranged it, Karl would have little say in matters. I don't know how long the engagement would be but I'm certain the wedding day is the first time you two see each other. Karl is doing his best to be suave and charming to his new partner but the man is shitting bricks.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
With people he actually gives a shit about, he really does try hard. He’s not used to having to control his temper or pull his punches or reel himself in. The lycans don't care and if he accidentally kills someone it's not a big deal. Who's going to tell? He has a bit of a temper, just look at how he yelled at Angie and donna. He treats you with kid gloves, like he’s afraid to hurt you, even if you are the kind of person who can handle themselves. Like I said above, he can be rude and hurtful but it's his sense of humor more than any sort of malicious intent. He’s not good at all that “soppy romantic bullshit” like Alcina is but occasionally he can come off with some genuinely sweet things.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
God this man is so fucking touch starved its unreal. Acts like a touch guy with his big ass hammer and cigar but he will absolutely melt if you stroke his hair, shiver and maybe even whimper if it's been a while. He’ll totally deny it after but you know what you heard. As i mentioned earlier, Karl hugs for every occasion and he’ll take them whenever and however he can get them.Definitely smothers you in his chest given the height difference but he also likes to stick his face into the crook of your neck to breath in your scent. I think his favorite kind of hugs are those that start as you walk towards each other then break into a run and leap into his arms and do a little twirl at the end. I think he’s been watching too many romantic movies with his nieces.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Maybe I just like angst but I can see that whoever Karl is with needs to sit his ass down and explain this sort of thing to him. He didn't get much if any love or affection growing up. His parents were too busy, Alcina treated him like a pest and the maids raised him with the sort of paid-for-cold-detachment you would expect. I imagine a partner saying “show me how to love you” and he instantly thinks of sex and not, you know, an actual language of love. Does he like hearing words of affirmation? Maybe acts of service? He’s got no idea, he’s never experienced anything like that before and he’s in uncharted territory. He kinda just says “i love you” spontaneously one day. Like he just decided then and there in the moment.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Jealousy is for insecure people and Karl is not that...not about you at least. He is however, very territorial at times, much like you’d expect a wolf to be. He doesn't like treating you like property, he is an asshole but he's not THAT kind of an asshole.If he thinks other people are looking at you he likes to “mark his territory” as it were. Buys you fancy gifts with his logo or insignia on them, maybe some dimitrescu family jewellery to show where you belong. He’s not above just yelling things like “this is my bf/gf/partner/spouse” to let people know what's up. If he feels like bragging about you he might just walk around with you on his arm and that smug grin of his plastered on his face for all to see.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
His kisses are a little bristly to be honest. Not just because of the beard. You know how some kids pet dogs a little hard so they can feel the love? That's Karl. He smooches with a lot of force behind it. He’s still got some of the manners he had to learn with alcina, so he likes to kiss the tops of your hands, your forehead etc. kisses on the lips are reserved for private but he does enjoy the occasional surprise cheek kiss from you.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Well he’s dealt with pups before. Bela, Cass and Dani were young once...well younger at least. He can keep kids out of trouble, be the fun uncle when there's structured fun to be had ( for example if he’s been asked to take the kids to the movies or something) but if he’s left to his own devices he is going to cause mischief. Karl is not what one might call a responsible adult. He kind of just rolls with things, like if the kids suggested painting he’d bring them the supplies and leave them to it. Before you know it the walls of the castle are covered in crayon and all of Alcina's 400 year old portraits have moustaches and stench lines with arrows that say “poopy head” pointing to important family figures. Karl is laughing too hard to stop them.
Tldr he’s good with kids for short periods of time, anything more than an afternoon without plans is going to lead to mayhem which Karl 1000% encourages for shits and giggles.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
He’s well used to being up early, before the crack of dawn . or at least, he was until he met you. Part of him worries he’s getting soft, every time he gets up to do something he rolls over and sees you and says “5 more minutes'' before diving back under the blankets. and before you know it it's 10 am, the horses have not been fed and the lycans are screeching for him on the roof like snarly tooth filled roosters.
It's worth it tho.
He might be up early and doing stuff but he definitely doesn't like mornings. He's mostly on auto pilot until at least 9. It's hard to get coffee in the village at times so he tries to drink strong tea instead.But looking out the window of his room in the factory at a snow storm in the dead of winter when its -8 and darker than alcinas sense of humor often makes him wish he was drinking something stronger.
He might wake you up just so he doesn't suffer alone.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Depends on the night to be honest. By that i mean what time of the month is it? New moon? Karl is exhausted, he just wants to curl up in bed at like 8pm and will often drag you with him as his personal pillow and space heater. Half moon? He might have more energy. Maybe he’ll work late, you can do your own project and you can just enjoy eachothers company, maybe he’ll want to cook dinner with you and have a drink, maybe it’ll be movie night, who knows? It just depends on his mood and energy levels.
A Full moon however? Lord help you. Karl and the lycans always have something going on, usually planned from the last full moon. Sometimes it’s something akin to a fight club, to let out some steam. Other times it’s a massive hunt and bonfire feast, although how much of the meat is cooked is dubious at best. There was that one time where a half lycan Karl, hopped up on energy from the full moon and bounced around the room like a child on pixie sticks, asked you to play hide and seek. You assumed it would just be the two of you but before you knew it the entire pack was looking for you. You were too afraid of upsetting them to say no so you barricaded yourself in Karl's room, hoping his scent would overpower or disguise yours. You've seen how the lycans react when they finally catch a pesky deer or wild boar and you weren't in the mood to be picked out of someone's teeth in the morning. As the night wore on and you started hearing scratching on his door you genuinely considered going to alcinas just for the night but you figured you were better staying put , hidden, rather than venture out only to be laughed at and have an ornate door slammed in your face.
Thankfully Karl switched back to human and put a stop to things before they got too out of hand.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
In a sense. He shares the things he’s proud of, like his factory, his lycan abilities and so on. He’s less inclined to share family history or personal details from his past. I think maybe he’s afraid of scaring you off. He might info dump on you about something and stop halfway through because he’s revealed too much. Good luck working out what it is though.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He does his best to be patient with you but he does have a bit of a temper. It doesn't take a lot in certain circumstances to make him fly off the handle but honestly, if it lasted more than a full minute i would be surprised. He mostly just shouts, it doesn't even sound super angry, he's just loud.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
I wouldn't call him forgetful by any stretch of the imagination. He’s better with numbers and figures and dates rather than floaty artistic concepts of things. For example if you told him your favorite holiday was a beach in florida because you found beautiful seashells, he might forget. But if you told him your favorite holiday was to a beach in Florida when you were 12 years old, the information would stick better with him.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
I think his favorite memory would be taking your clothes shopping at the very start of your relationship. You weren't as equipt for a romanian winter as you thought, so he took you to get a coat or a cloak of some sort. Of course, you gravitate towards a blood red one. Sort of a scottish widow style, very dramatic. Karl is struggling to contain the giggles already and you haven't even tried it on yet. Even after trying it on and about half an hour of terrible wolf puns Karl still found this pee your pants funny .But since he hadn't told you about his lycan abilities yet, you didn't understand why he was laughing so hard. He still asks you sometimes how little red riding hood is finding life with the big bad wolf.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He’s pretty protective, let's be honest it comes with the territory. He always walks with an arm around you or holding your hand if he’s trying to be discreet. He protects you as best he knows how, just putting himself between you and the threat. In most cases a few good swears and threats of a hammering will do it but he's not afraid to spill a little blood for your sake, both his and whoever dares hurt you.
He’s a little old fashioned, it's his age. It's a little emasculating to him to have someone smaller and younger than him offer to protect him. He appreciates the sentiment of course, but he usually brushes you off like a kid offering to go to work in their parents place.
I feel like letting him share your space, your life and your knowledge of life outside the village would be protection enough. You’re saving him from a boring, lonely life and he won't let you forget it in a hurry.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
I'm going to be real with you. He doesn't try. He's never dirty but he is messy and a little lazy with this aspect of his life. He’s the kind of person to put off chores until he has literally no option but to do them, even if it would only take 30 mins and he's spent 2 weeks procrastinating. He’s pretty low key with dates, his idea of something really really fancy is a candlelit dinner and that's about it. He's good at gifts. Like, REALLY good at gifts. He will usually make you something but if you've mentioned you wanted something specific he’ll get you that as well as a little hand made thing to remind you of him. Maybe a wrought iron twist bracelet? Some gear rings or earrings? He likes making traditionally unattractive things like scrap iron into jewellery.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Karl eats a lot of raw food. He’s not like the other lycans, he takes care of his teeth but he has a horrible habit of picking them instead of just using a damn toothpick or some floss. Alcina is on his case about it constantly. Sometimes you wonder if he just does it to piss her off, which i suppose is another bad habit in itself.
Depending on your feelings on the matter, his penchant for cigars and smoking could also be seen as a bad habit. He hates smoking outside.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
More than you’d think just by looking at him but it's not excessive. He keeps himself clean, does not go around smelling like a musty wolfman and keeps the oil from his machines off his hands and clothes. He takes a lot of care of his smile, it's sort of his trademark. I know he looks scraggly and a bit wild but he’s always well groomed. His clothes are a bit worn but still in good condition, neatly kept. He’s not like Alcina, who will throw a fit if she sees dirt where it shouldn't be, his job is messy and he’s not super fussy about it.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Angst time again lads. Karl is well used to being on his own. He was raised in the village, in the castle specifically, away from the other children. Alcina was 10-11 when Karl was born and was far too old to be playing with him. He spent a lot of time by himself, which is one of the reasons he surrounds himself with lycans as an adult.Being alone as a child makes you a little reluctant to let people in at times but not because you don't want to. you're guarded and afraid of having something only for it to be taken away again . If you managed to worm your way into Karls heart only to leave or be taken from him he’s going to feel pretty hollow. He’s not so clingy he needs you in his life 24/7 but if you were you wouldn't hear him complaining.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
God i have so many, fucking get ready lads.
He was born in the village, to a german father and romanian mother. In the Dimitrescu house, the first born woman is the head of the family. Karl basically gets the leftovers, whatever Alcina doesn't want.
Alcina is much older than him, even before infection. She always treated him like a pest since she was nearly an teen when he was born. She resented him taking her parents attention and hated being left to look after him.
The X shaped scar on his cheek is from childhood. Alcina wasn't watching him carefully enough and he tripped and fell into the fireplace. It wasn't lit but he split his cheek on the edge of the hearth.
He was infected by Miranda against his will, but wound up loving it, much like Lucas baker. He put up a fight though, that split on his lip is from her.
He and Donna were the last to be infected. He was trying to protect her and failed. One of his reasons for his hostility towards Angie is that she serves as a reminded her couldn't protect Donna
The cigars he smokes are spanish, usually imported by the Duke. but he’s been known to steal alcinas Cigarettes for a quick nicotine hit when he’s stressed.
He started smoking very young. Probably stole his older sisters cigarettes at 12 or maybe he was given a cigar as a reward.
Don't tell anyone but His favorite flavor is Strawberry. He loves those little pouches of premade strawberry milk you get in convenience stores.
His favorite comfort food is Kartoffelkloesse and a meat dish like Schweinshaxe or Rinderroulade. It reminds him of spending time with his paternal grandparents.
English is his first language but he speaks fluent romanian and decent german.
He's ambidextrous. Uses his hammer and writes with his Right hand and eats and smokes with his Left.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
I can't see him with someone squeamish. There's a lot of gross shit going on and that's before you even leave the village farm. If you can't handle blood or bad smells, you should probably cross him off your list of potential partners. I also don't see him with someone who acts like alcina. Hoity-toity, putting on airs or acting like an aristocrat. Karl is a hands on kind of man with a crude and dark sense of humor and he can't be bothered with the kind of person afraid of a little grime or hard work
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Well. he snores terribly. I should get that one out of the way. He's a back sleeper usually and all those cigars and mold have him verging on sleep apnoea. He also moves around a lot in his sleep, acting things out. He doesn't quite sleep walk, but he does talk in his sleep a lot and occasionally bolt straight upright in bed, blabber something nonsensical and then fall back asleep again. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's absolutely terrifying.
@factoryheisenberg @anzu-sl @potato-dragons @shinva
sorry for the @ but since yall were interested =)
heres the ao3 link too https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253654/chapters/76709666
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💓 Small astrology notes💓
Notes are based on my opinions and experiences. The whole chart matters.
@venusfun I don't allow to copy or plagiarize my work
Sun in 12th house is a very creative placement. These people usually express themselves through arts (painting, drawing, dancing, photography, etc.)
Moon in 9th house people probably would like traveling to a place somewhere near the ocean, possibly islands.
Saturn in 7th house people might have a harder time going through breakups.
Saturn rules over debts too.
Virgo moons worry very much. I associate this moon sign with also being super concerned about their close ones. Truly the most caring people🥺
Moon-Mars aspect people are so loving. They also always defend their family with all their heart.
People with north node in the 7th house might be scared of marriage or any partnerships. Some might prefer being alone [south node in 1st] (check aspects).
Having a lot of sextiles can indicate a lot of fame opportunities (check other placements).
I've noticed that 2nd house Venus are usually very insecure about their beauty.
People with retrograde mars often might accidentally hurt themselves.
MC ruler in 12th house is an astrologer indicator. It also can indicate a job at the hospital. Also, people with this placement might not feel comfortable with talking about their career plans.
5th house- how are you as a parent, 10th house - your parents.
People with Mercury in the 12th house had a big curiosity about spirituality. They would be amazing astrologers/tarot readers.
11th house shows your ambitions.
In composite charts, the 12th house shows healings through the relationship.
People with the north node in the 5th house can have the hardest time learning how to love themselves.
Psyche (16) in the 12th house people can have psychic dreams.
2nd house shows your abilities to make your own business.
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A Date With Destiny (m)
“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton
➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader
➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU
➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix
➺ Rating: 18+
➺ Word Count: 11k
➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths.
Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.
➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning
➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!
This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy!
When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods.
Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning.
Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold.
“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity.
“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully.
“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.
Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.”
“What if I wanted to do that too?”
“Can I watch?”
“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation.
Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.
Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?”
“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious.
“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.
For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well.
You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.
Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-
Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.
Jeon Jungkook is on your flight?
BTS is on your flight?
What are the odds?
Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography.
Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.
But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.
So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger.
Biggest boyband who?
You only listen to Frank Sinatra.
“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.
Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”
You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally.
“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”
His ticket shows the same characters as yours.
With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help.
“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.
She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.
The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved.
Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?
“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could.
“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.
“No no. No trouble” He beams back.
Aw, you are in trouble.
As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face.
Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true.
Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth.
Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.
An Angel was calling you.
You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.
Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you.
“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to.
“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”
Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all.
Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile.
The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously.
“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.
“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean.
“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.
“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.
“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.”
“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.
“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..”
Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in.
“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb.
He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.”
He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.
You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.
You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told.
During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.
A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep.
Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began.
He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.
But something about you made him open up.
Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.
It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.
Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you.
He wonders if you feel that way too.
Speaking of whom-
A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you.
In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you.
The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family.
Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.
“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen.
Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request.
“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement.
Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”
He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.”
“So I was think-”
Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.
High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.
You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck.
As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart.
“Hey mami, come here often?”
“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”
“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”
You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him.
“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.
“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”
As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon.
“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”
“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”
“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”
You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”
Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”
“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”
“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”
That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).
“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”
The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”
“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.”
“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”
“How is that pertinent?”
“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”
“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence.
Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”
“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.
“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”
Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car.
Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.
Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you.
A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that.
But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of.
All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far.
So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode.
Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma.
Y/N. In person.
He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this.
“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”
Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do.
He forces his body to action.
"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall.
"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"
You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!"
“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!”
Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.
And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor.
“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”
“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”
Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so.
But you’re not anyone else.
He isn’t just anyone.
Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.
The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two.
Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.
He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours.
Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century.
To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind.
Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours.
He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.
Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.
The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation.
“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”
“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”
“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”
“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”
“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”
She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end.
The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.
“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”
“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”
Your expression is the visual form of a question mark.
“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”
You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.
After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.”
The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible.
Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.
Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken.
After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”
A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him.
The elevator door opens, and people walk out.
But that’s not where your attention is.
You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm.
The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.
Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.
Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.
Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad.
Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present.
Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.
“It’s a shoot.”
You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”
“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.
Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile.
“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too.
The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space.
“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!”
The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed.
“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”
The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again.
“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”
The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.
“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.”
Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.
Three days. Three days before it happens again.
Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”.
The punctuation was not vocalized.
Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself.
The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there?
You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.
So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna.
So far, no sign of him.
This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far.
But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode.
And then you hear it.
You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but.
When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.
Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck.
The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.
So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.
“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight.
“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”
Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight.
“Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”
Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”
“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”
Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.
“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”
Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.
“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement.
“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.
Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?
Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.
Carpe noctem it is.
“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.
A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart.
“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.”
“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”
He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.
“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.
He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first.
Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Should you go the modest route or fuck it?
“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.
Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own.
“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes. “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”
“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”
If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.
“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.
“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.”
If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter.
“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.
“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?”
“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”
Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight.
“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.
Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger.
The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware.
Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer.
Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue.
Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.
Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).
When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.
“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”
The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”
His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”
“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”
The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch.
You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.
“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”
You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”
He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates.
Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?”
He cocks a brow. “On?”
“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”
That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”
Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.
Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air.
Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.
The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative.
Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”
With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?”
Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress.
“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”
You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.
He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured.
“On your knees.” he commands.
Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-
You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.
He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.
And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.
“Wanted to do that since I saw you.”
The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.
You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on.
You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.
“Spit for me.”
Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm.
A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.
“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”
You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head.
Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise.
“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”
Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.
“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”
In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.
Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”
The last word slips out unwittingly.
Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him.
Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him.
“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”
Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.
“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”
Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.
Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.”
It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over.
You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.
“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.
The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench.
He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening.
“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod.
With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum.
Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you.
Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him.
“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.
Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.
“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss.
“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair.
How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.
Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.
Who was he to deny you?
Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt.
“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”
Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room.
“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”
You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom.
He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you.
Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention.
“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought.
“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret.
Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.
It’s a good thing you like the pain.
You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.
A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch.
“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”
You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.
Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.
“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth.
“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way.
He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”
“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”
Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face.
You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-
The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.
You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.
“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”
“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”
Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs.
“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.
His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem.
“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-”
“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”
“Uungh yes yes I love it!”
“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”
“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”
“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”
A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him.
If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason.
Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard.
“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him.
Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making.
Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls.
“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”
“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat.
He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it.
“I’ll do this.”
A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response.
“Go on baby, ride me.”
The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better.
“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.
“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!”
“That’s fucking right, only me.”
Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away.
Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve.
“Want some help?”
One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full.
“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.
“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”
It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high.
He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face.
Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.
A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.
In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”
“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”
“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”
You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!”
Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.”
Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way.
What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole.
“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs.
He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core.
Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours.
You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.”
Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon.
After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart.
A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.
“Oh, did the light wake you?”
The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.”
The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness.
“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”
Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy.
This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance.
He finds none.
Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go.
You inch closer.
Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his.
You let your lips convey the answer.
Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win.
“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”
He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words.
“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst.
“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”
A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”
He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it.
“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.
“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows. You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him.
After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far.
Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up.
His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”
“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”
“I’m kinky like that.”
You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement.
“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”
Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”
A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,
“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”
Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!
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⚡Astrology ⋆·˚ ☆ ⋆·
⋆·˚ ☆ Observations⚡
⋆·˚✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩⋆·˚
🌟 Main Masterlist
⚡Mars in Aquarius/11th house are incredibly driven to break down status quo's within systems and make them more accepting for those who are often judged unfairly. That's why you will see so many astrologers, activists & revolutionary people with this placement.
⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭
🪐 Moon opposite Jupiter individuals are meant to bring new perspectives to the public & loved ones even if it goes against their feelings. They know whats right, and are usually the first people to guide unfortunate individuals in the right direction. They are usually seen doing charity work.
☄︎. *. ⋆
⚡Uranus square/opposite Midheaven usually results in rebelling against societies expectations & putting your entire heart into a career thats usually shamed. Such as, astrology or spirituality. There will often be a lot of fights within the family because of this & financial struggles. Learning to embrace your differences will embrace you the most in your career.
☄︎. *. ⋆
🪐 Chiron aspecting neptune/12th house may find themselves in a constant state of being used for others benefit; as well as their work consistently being stolen because, they're wounded through hidden activity that goes unnoticed. They could potentially find themselves victims of crime because of the 12th house ruling over criminal activity.
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⚡The water houses can help you understand where & how you will learn more about yourself. Ex, 12th house stelliums/big 3 planets would find themselves through astrology & spirituality. 8th house would find themselves through horror movies, paranormal interests & ancestral stories. 4th house would find themselves through emotional reflection, memories & family pasts.
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🪐 Moon in Virgo/6th House can indicate anxious behavior however it's more so need to be useful & help others. If they don't feel useful in someone's life they seem to think they're not good enough but that's so untrue :( they're very observant & caring to the point of forgetting about their needs. Make sure to check up on them as they don't complain much💖
☄︎. *. ⋆
⚡Pisces Risings may find themselves always moving because their MC is in Sagittarius usually, which means their I.C is in Gemini. Because Pisces is so changeable their life is often experiencing multiple transforms that go unnoticed or are viewed as normal for them. Sometimes having a Pisces rising is more chaotic than a Scorpio rising tbh.
☄︎. *. ⋆
🪐 Where Taurus lies in your chart is going to be where people think you don't have problems & life is easy. I've noticed many Taurus Risings & MC's will often go through problems unnoticed by others, and are viewed to have the perfect life. They could often put pressure on themselves to be a foundation or support system for others because of this. Its okay my cute cows💖💖🥺🥺 I see u🤧💖
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⚡6th House Venus & Saturn usually have high standards for their partners to be really attractive & their work to be aesthetically pleasing, because they put so much effort into the presentation of themselves.
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🪐 Moon in Pisces/12th house/Neptune aspects often finds themselves diving into the spiritual world without meaning too. They may accidentally see & hear spirits without wanting to because they're so connected to other life forms.
☄︎. *. ⋆
⚡Uranus in the 1st/7th house usually surprises others with how different their personality is from their appearance. These are the people to look soft then be wild & vice-versa. Throw away any assumptions you previously had about them. They were also usually bullied for their different appearance/personality. Don't confuse this with a "pick me" lol they're just genuinely rebellious, and could be famous for being polarizing.
☄︎. *. ⋆
🪐 Sagittarius placements can laugh like actual horses & donkeys. LMFAOO especially the Moon & Mercury @rattaemin 🥸🥰
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⚡Aquarius Risings/Moons are stereotyped as the weirdest sign but I actually have found them to be externally wild & fun yet internally super chill & calm LOL their fixed stability helps them a lot tbh. Sagittarius, Gemini & Pisces are the crazy ones inside and out tbh
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⋆·˚✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩⋆·˚
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Hi! Hello! Welcome!
My main is @bacchanalianbabe so follows, likes and comments will be from there (I also accidentally reblog stuff there sometimes)
You can learn a bit about me here!
Join a taglist here! However, if you’d like to join the Mommy & Ma’am taglist, please send an ask instead of using this form.
I’m on Kofi!
You can find all my Spencer x Reader fics below. They’re mostly Fem!Reader.
Requests: Open/Closed - accepting for blurbs and fic requests. If you send a concept please state whether or not you want me to do a fic/blurb on it otherwise I will just react. Thx!
As a note, I don’t write non-con, dub-con, more intense BDSM, omorashi, omegaverse, race play, slave!aus, underage content, self-harm, weapons play (ex. knife play), unsub!Spencer, actual people (MGG in this case), unhappy/sad endings
Okey-dokey, here ya go:
Lanie’s 1K Celebration/Masterlist
Dad!Spence concepts: Just a little self-indulgent list of how I think he would be as a dad
It’s Doctor: Spencer stands up for Reader against a disrespectful police sheriff
Lesson Plans: Spencer’s TA helps him organize his class all while developing a crush on him, little do they know that he feels the same way
Lukewarm Is No Good: Spencer finally tells Reader how he feels when he finds out she’s going to get married
On Being Mrs. Reid Collection
I Love You This Much: Being married to a profiler is no easy feat - Reader struggles with Spencer being away all the time
Make You Feel My Love: Spencer makes changes for the better as he starts to see himself as a husband and father first
So This Is Love: Spencer comes home late after a case to find Reader has stayed up for him
More Than A Memory: Spencer doesn’t want to forget you
NSFW (no minors please and thank you)
Blurb Masterlist: Short, smutty little concepts requested by all you lovely people
Patience is a Virtue: Reader lets Spencer, her TA, know how she feels after a whole semester of tension.
Break My Rules: Reader and Professor!Reid have office sex
Strip: Months of teasing finally comes to an end over a game of strip poker
K-I-S-S-I-N-G: Spencer doesn’t recognize a song JJ was singing and Reader helps him out
Truth or Dare: Virgin!Spencer feels nervous about being with an experienced Reader and she puts his worries to rest.
Let’s Get Physical: Reader has a little fun with Spencer when he has to wear a Holter monitor
Just Gimme Them Babies Collection
Surprise: Reader has some exciting news for Spencer
Baby Fever: Reader convinces Spencer to have another baby
Mommy Kink Collection
Mommy’s Here: Spencer can’t control himself around Reader so she decides to do something about it
Wake Me Up: Morning sexy times
Dreams Come True: Spencer is a tease and Reader teaches him a lesson
I’ve Got You: Reader and Spencer try something new
No Strings Attached: Spencer and Reader’s no strings attached relationship starts developing some pesky strings
Why Don’t You: Spencer is being a brat at work so Reader puts him in his place
Make You Mine: Reader gets jealous and reminds Spencer of who he belongs to
Extracurricular: Professor Reid is being a brat so reader puts him in his place
Ruin Me: Spencer has been very needy and bratty so Reader teaches him a lesson
Trop Difficile d’Attendre (Too Hard to Wait): Spencer’s punishment is a week without coming
We Shouldn’t: Reader hears virgin!spencer moaning her name through the walls of her apartment
Mommy & Ma’am (NSFW): Everyone has a devil and an angel sitting on their shoulders. For Dr. Reid, they’re both in his bed.
Thanks for checking out my work! I think it goes without saying that likes, reblogs, comments and messages (on or off anon) are very much appreciated! If you let me know what you like then I’ll know to write more of it.
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It hurts to love.
Karl heisenberg x male!reader
Tags: Hanahaki and angst
(Note: In this au, none of the main events happen with ethan, as he is not in this story. Also SPOILER WARNING.)
(Warning: probably shitty plot, but i'm trying my best ok)
It all started a year or two ago, when mother miranda had found me lurking around the village. As i was not a local, she deemed me suspicous. However, before she had the chance to kill me, She had a spark in her eye. As if she had an idea. And before i knew it she was using me as some sort of vessel for her daughter, Eva. Although i am a male, she had seen something special in me apparently. I had also found out that her daughter had passed away and she was determined to bring her back.
The experiment... failed.
I was no longer deemed useful.
She had proposed me two options. become a servant or assistant to one of the lords, or die. A slow, and painful death.
Of course I chose to be an assistant.
She was kind enough to let me choose who to work for, thankfully.
Lady dimitrescu was very much intimidating. And from what I've heard, if you mess up even just a little while working for her, you will be sent to the dungeons. Never to be seen again. And she isnt really fond of men, so I wont be choosing her.
Next up was Donna Beneviento. She was nice, although her doll 'Angie' is a little... how do I say this... creepy. It doesnt help that i have a huge fear of mannequins and dolls, so I dont think i'll be choosing her anytime soon.
And then theres Salvatore Moreau, dont get me wrong he's a great guy but.. he might accidentally drown me. I might be overreacting, but the guy smells. Although, I feel bad that he's treated so poorly by the other Lords, but i think it's for the best if i stay away from him.
And.. i guess my only option left is Lord Heisenberg. I just hope that he wont be that much of a hassle, even if he IS kind of an asshole...
A day before i start working at the factory, Mother Miranda forced us to spend the day together. To 'get to know eachother' I assume.
Lord Heisenberg looked pissed off, he wasn't really fond of me. He was more pissed off at Mother miranda though. Most likely because he was forced to spend time with me. I quickly learned what he called the 'basics of him'. Basically, common facts. Such as, the fact that he can bend metal and his deep hatred for Mother Miranda. that was basically all that he told me.
The following day was my first day at the factory. As we were walking along the factory, he stopped in his tracks. "Listen pup, there's rules." He practically growled. "First of all, Don't touch my shit. Second of all, don't go around the factory without me knowing. And third of all, Don't try to get to know me, we're keeping a proffessional relationship, got it?" He said.
"Uh.. y-yes Lord Heisenberg." I very nervously stammered, lightly blushing at the nickname he gave me.
"Good, now let's get to work."
That was around a year or two ago, and while i have gotten closer to the other lords, i never managed to get to get close to Lord Heisenberg. And..
I'm an idiot who fell for him... And... I know he'll never feel the same way. I've tried getting his attention, impressing him, but... nothing's working. Every time i try to get close to him, wether it's emotionally or physically. I get pushed away, literally and figuratively.
It's my fault really. I fell inlove with a man who was emotionally closed off. His charisma, his voice, everything about him just makes me fall more and more inlove with him.
I know i wont have a chance, hell, i dont even know if he's into guys... Guess i really am an idiot, huh?
Later that day, Lord Heisenberg asked me to help him with something. I agreed of course, and during that time I tried to know him more. "Jesus christ, are you trying to get me to open up or something? Cause' that's not gonna happen, so give it up." He spat out, "a-ah... sorry Lord Heisenberg.." I stammered out.
A few minutes of silence pass. Suddenly, he grabbed my hands. "I- ugh.. Just- you're doing it wrong. Here, let me help." He said, while holding my hands 'teaching me how to do it right'.
Of course my face started heating up, the feeling of his slightly roughed up hands on mine... it feels nice. Although this is probably the only time i'll ever get close to him.
"Hey pet, you ok? Geez, you're practically as red as a tomato." He said, while still holding my hands. "Uh.. y-yeah..! Uhm... i.. i'm good.." i stuttered, feeling his breath on top of my head. He was bigger and taller than me after all.
"Well, whatever you say, pup." He shrugged as he continued his work. I got a little flustered on the nickname, i never got used to that..
After, he went and ordered me to get supplies fron the duke.
As i was walking along the pathway to the duke, a few lycans were following me. They didnt seem to be attacking, so i just left them alone. However when i reached the duke, the lycans were gone. How strange.
"Well well well, if it isn't Heisenbergs pet! What brings you here, young man?" He says, with a shit eating grin. "Ah.. well, i'm just here for some supplies is al-" i was then cut off with a series of coughs, "Oh my, are you alright?" said the duke, genuinely concerned. "O-oh i'm fine i ju-" i was then cut off by another series of coughs, but just when i stopped, a small white flower petal came out of my mouth.
"Oh dear, i hope this isn't what i think it is... Are you sure you are alright?" Asked the duke. "I.. i dont know," i pause and look at the small flower petal in my hand. "do you know what's happening..?" I questioned him, very much confused. "It may be something called the 'Hanahaki disease'. It was said to just be an urban legend. Where, if you were suffering from unrequited love, you would begin to cough up flower petals." He explained. "I didnt think it was real.." he muttered to himself.
"..." i was silent as i stared in shock and horror, I'm.. coughing up flowers..? Like actual, real flowers...?
From.. unrequited love.... i should've known, i... i should've known that he would never feel the same way.
How could i be so stupid, to think he would fall for a mere mortal like me. Or atleast.. i think i'm mortal. "Well," the duke spoke up, "luckily there are two ways you can get rid of the sickness." My eyes lit up, "the person you like, either loves you back," he continued "or, you can get surgery. Not only will it remove the flowers, it also removes all of your feelings for this particullar person permanently."
"Th-that's great! I can finally get this 'hanahaki' disease while also getting rid of my feelings for him-!"
"Him?" The duke asked as he cut me off, "do you mean Lord Heisenberg?"
"Uh-" as i think about him, i start coughing again. This time, blood was spilling over. And so were many petals. "Oh dear.. so just the mere thought of him triggers it..?" He said, concerned. "Uh... i'll just... take the supplies. Thank you though, duke."
"No problem, stay safe. But remember, the longer you wait around with the flowers still inside you, the worse your state will become." He informs me,
"I'll try to get the surgery as fast as possible duke." I said, waving him goodbye.
As soon as i walked out, those same lycans followed me all the way back to the factory. Strange isn't it? Anyway, when you finally arrived at the factory, supplies in hand, I hear Lord Heisenberg open up the door.
"Here, let me help you with those." He says as he starts taking some of the bags.
"...Why are you being so nice all of a su-sudden?" I stammer as i try to hold in a cough. "Would you rather not have me nice, pup?" he growled. As i opened my mouth to speak, i was interrupted but a fit of coughs. Blood spilt out as did the petals. Heisenberg didn't seem to notice as he was already far ahead.
I try to cover it up as much as i can as i try to catch up with him. "Jeez.. Finally, you caught up-" he cut himself off. "Why is there blood on your face?" He said, slightly concerned. I froze. "Uh.." that was all i could say. "Whatever.." he said as he wiped the blood away from my face. A faint blush spread accross my cheeks.
I excused myself to the bathroom as i felt another fit of coughs. More blood splattered out as well as more petals. God it hurts. I heard a knock on the door. "Hey pet, you've been there a while, you sure you're alright?" He said
"Uh- yeah, i-i'm fine..!" I said, trying to hold in my coughs. "Well just make it quick, we have work to do." "Yes sir..!" I reply back quickly, not wanting to upset him. I quickly cleaned myself up and walked out of the bathroom. "Took you long enough." He sighed, annoyed. He went ahead and grabbed his hammer, dragging it along the metal floors. It was loud enough for him to not hear you cough up more petals.
~later that week~
My condition kept getting worse and worse, to the point i was barely able to breath. I've consulted the duke, however nothing seemed to work. No matter how much medicine, herbs or other medicinal items i jammed into my body, it just won't go away.
I was asked to come over Lady Dimitrescus castle, i'm not exactly sure why. Maybe she heard of this 'hanahaki' disease?
As i make my way to the castle, lycans started to follow me. Even more than before, why was this happening?
I finally arrive at the castle, the lycans seem to be watching me very carefully. I hear the doors open, and out came a tall lady. "Ah, Y/N! I'm glad you came! Come in." She said, holding the door open for me.
I walked in and was immediately tackled with a hug. "Uncle Y/N! You came!" Exclamed Daniela, one of Lady Dimitrescus daughters. "Oh, uh... hello Daniela." I say, hugging back. I never imagined them to warm up to me. "Now now Daniela, me and your Uncle Y/N have something to discuss."
"Aww man... well, i'll see you around Uncle Y/N!" She waved goodbye to me. "I'll see you around, Daniela." I say as i wave back. As soon as her footsteps were no longer in range, i spoke up. "So.. what did you want to talk about..?" I carefully asked the tall woman, not wanting to be sliced to bits. "Well, as i said before, the duke has informed me of something related to your wellbeing."
"So... you've heard about this.. 'hanahaki' disease, i assume...?" I say as i tense up even more. "The duke told me about it, and when i asked why he was informing me about this, he simply stated it had something to do with you. So tell me, do you have it?" She asked me with a concerned expression.
"W-well.. I-.." i say, sighing. "Yes, as far as i know." I reply, not wanting to lie to her. "As much as i dislike that wretched man, Heisenberg, i must ask, is he the object of your affection?" I froze. "Well... uh-" i cut myself off as i break into a fit of coughs growing more and more violent than the last. "Oh dear- MAIDS!" She called out, panicking, as blood and petals fall out of my mouth. She patted my back as i continue to cough. "So... it is Heisenberg.. I am terribly sorry Y/N i did not know this would happen.." she said, apologetically.
"I-it's alright-" i break into another fit of coughs. But instead of petals, this time, there were fully grown flowers. "i.. i can't b-breath.." i say almost blacking out. The last thing i see and hear are the maids, Lady Dimitrescu shouting to get the duke, and the door opening to reveal... Lord Heisenberg..? "Goddammit, out of my way-!" Was the last thing i heard before blacking out.
I woke up to the duke. I sat upright, "what... happ-" i was then cut off by the duke. "You're awake! Honestly, i.. didnt know if you would wake up.." he said sadly. "Thankfully, i was able to patch you up just fine. And after days and hours of research, i finally found an alternative to your hanahaki!" The duke said, switching from a sad, to a cheerful mood.
My eyes light up, "W-wait, really!?" I said as a smile creeps up on my face. The duke gives me a small bottle, "Here, take this. Free of charge!" He said as he smiles brightly. "Now, you should drink it as soon as possible. Lord Heisenberg is waiting for you outside."
"I will, thank you duke!" I said as i waved him goodbye. As I walked to the gates, I take the small bottle and drink it. Within seconds, the flowers were gone. I could finally breath again!
Walking out with a small smile, I saw Lord Heisenberg. "Oh, hey-!.. uh.. i mean, hey. You're awake, lets... get back to the factory..." he stammered out.
Was it just me, or were there tears on his face..?
The walk to the factory was silent, but as we walk up to the factory gates, he stops dead in his tracks. "Before we go in, I just uh.. wanted to let you know that the duke let me know about how you really felt about me." He said. "And.. after a long time of thinking about it.." he cuts himself off as his cheeks turn red,
"...I like you too." He confesses.
I don't feel any different.
I don't have butterflies in my stomach.
I don't even feel my face heating up.
It was like...
I was never inlove with him in the first place.
"I... I'm sorry, Lord Heisenberg... but.. I dont feel the same way anymore. I think... it was that small bottle the duke gave me, but.. I am sorry, i don't feel the same way." "W-wait.. you're.. you're joking, right...?" I watch as his expression goes from flustered to heartbreak. "..." i grow silent.
"Let's... let's get inside... we'll catch a cold if we don't." I say, opening the doors to the factory, not wanting the situation to get more awkward. "...Y... yeah... just, gimme a minute.." he says as his voice was slightly shaking. "Alright.. just... please be quick, you'll get a cold." I said, walking in and closing the door on him.
"I... I'm sorry, Lord Heisenberg... but.. I dont feel the same way anymore. I think... it was that small bottle the duke gave me, but.. I am sorry, i don't feel the same way."
"W-wait.. you're.. you're joking, right...?" I say with my voice slightly shaking. Dammit.. god... fucking...
Just when i thought i finally found the love of my life, he's stripped away from me.
"..." he was silent.
I could feel the heartbreak slowly filling me up.
"Let's... let's get inside... we'll catch a cold if we don't."
"...Y... yeah... just, gimme a minute.." i stammer while i try not to break down infront of him.
"Alright.. just... please be quick, you'll get a cold." He says, as he walks in and shuts the door. Heh.. it's cute how he still worries about me when..
I need some time to thi-
My thoughts were interrupted when i started to violently cough. What i didn't expect though...
Was a flower petal.
"So this is what he felt." I said, as i look at the bloody flower petal in my hand.
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i know that requests are closed but like,,,,, the marauders teaching you (led by sirius with lots of help from james and remus) how to make yourself cum because ever since getting into a relationship with them you can’t do it on your own anymore>>>
bonus points if they lightly make fun of you for not being able to finger yourself well enough to cum because of how small your fingers are
oops i accidentally didn’t like lead with the right boys but asdkfjasdklfjasdlkfj i hope you enjoy. also sorry it’s lazily proofread so there may be some mistakes :)
warnings: a bit of bondage, but not really because they’re just holding you, use of a toy (dildo), clit stimulation, swearing, bit of BDSM
The wood is hard underneath your knuckles as you raise a tentative hand to rap them against their door. This is bold, and of that, you are fully aware, but this is a life or death situation. You can’t orgasm on your own.
You rock back and forth atop your heels as you ring at your fingers with the piercing silence that floods your eardrums. Why are they quiet, they’re never-
But then there’s the audible jiggle of the brass doorknob as an unseen figure turns it. The line of light that shines through the crack in the door grows wider until its rays illuminate you in a golden halo when the door opens fully.
“Hey look, it’s our little angel.” James lilts with a soft smile, stepping back and opening the door further to allow you entrance.
The compliment, although minimal, has a rosy tint coloring the apples of your cheeks as you step inside the room. They’re yours, and yet peering at the three males has your heart racing inside your chest. Why are you so bloody nervous?
“You should know that you don’t have to knock, love.” Remus muses from his position atop Sirius’ mattress, who is curled up at the bottom at the lycanthrope’s feet. He’s flipping through his Arithmancy textbook, trying to reel back his knowledge for the upcoming test on Wednesday.
“Y-Yeah, I just had a question though.” There comes that anxiety as you bend at your fingers until you can hear the soft pops that accompany your knuckle cracking.
“You sound scared.” Sirius scoffs, near increduously as he turns from his back onto his belly, fingers flipping the ring with the signet of a canine indented onto the top. “Why are you scared, puppy?” His eyes don’t leave the piece of jewelry.
“Quiet, Pads. Princess has a question.” James chastises the male, closing the door behind you before pressing a soothing palm against the bottom of your spine while his fingers scratch idly at the small of your back.
“Well, erm, I was wondering if you were able to, y’know, teach me how to get off on my own?” The words are spilling off your tongue before you can even fathom the consequences of asking such a vulgar inquiry, but it’s too late and you can barely move to seal your lips together once again.
“What d’you mean, ‘on your own?’ Sirius sneers in response, pushing off the mattress so he’s sitting back atop his calves as he watches your squirming figure beside James.
“Y’know,” You echo with tense trepidation, rocking back and forth once again to distract yourself from the looming fear of getting in trouble. Why hadn’t you thought of this before? “When I’m all alone and you guys are busy. Can’t do it though. S’not enough. Please.”
You’re aware of how pathetic you sound and how there is no way on Godric’s green Earth that they’re going to-
“Alright, dove. C’mon then.” James is the first to reply, prompting a dropped jaw from Sirius, who’s not very happy about the subject.
“What? So we’re just going to promote the idea of her going against one of our rules? Prongs, think about it logically-” The ebony-haired boy is cut off by the freckled one who is shifting atop his mattress so his legs are dangling off the edge.
With an invisible pull, you slot yourself between Remus’ thighs, allowing his ring-clad fingers to hook under the band of your skirt and panties and drag them down your legs.
The crisp air is biting at your exposed thighs as the male leaves your thigh-highs on before shifting to the side and pats softly against the mattress. “Sit down, pet.”
Remus sends a pointed glare in Sirius’ direction, daring for him to say another word, and he doesn’t, unwilling to test Remus’ word, (or glare for that matter), and instead sits down on your other side.
“Take her leg then, Pads.” The boy instructs, and he listens without hesitation, hooking a hand under the bend of your leg so he anchor you to the bed.
Remus does the same, meanwhile leaning in to brush his lips over your cheek to soothe your nerves. “S’good that you came to us, love. We’re gonna help you, yeah? We wanna make you feel good.”
“What, she’s incapable of figuring this out on her own? Didn’t she know how to do this shit before dating us?” Sirius grumbles, dejected that his opinion is not being heard.
“I did!” You cry with a disdained croon, narrowing your eyes while you shift your gaze to the boy. “But then it got harder because of how good you guys me feel, and then I couldn’t do the same. Couldn’t match it.”
“Aww, your fingers not good enough?” James snarks in a playful, patronizing manner as he goes to kneel in front of the bed, your bare cunt glistening in front of his visage.
“You want your daddy to make you feel good?”
“No, Prongs.” Sirius scoffs, shaking his head of ebony hair until it’s falling in front of his line of vision. “She wants to know how to make herself feel good, I didn’t realize that was so hard to-” But then Remus is thwacking him in the back of the skull with an open palm.
Sirius stays quiet this time, even through the deathly glare James is shooting him. “Gonna teach you m’self.” James coos quietly, shuffling forward so he can get a bit closer.
“You already know the anatomy,” The boy’s cheeks are dimpling with a simple smile as his left thumb drags lazily over the hood of your clit, pulling it back so he can get a good look at your swollen button. “But this, this is the the key right here. Gotta give it a lotta love.” He leans in, dragging the brunt of his tongue over it until you can feel it sparking against the muscle
“Gimme your hand, poppet.” James asks of you, and you listen with hesitation, for you’re trying desperately to focus on anything but the blossoming pleasure in your belly.
“Here, now.” He grapples onto your palm before guiding your fingers to the tight bundle of nerves, and he has to guide you in your actions as he teaches you to draw soft, delicate circles against it. “You can take it nice and slow at first but when the pressure builds up in that cute lil’ belly of yours, you can go a little faster, yeah?”
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Remus is rising from the bed, leaving momentarily to rifle through the mahogany bedside table to find the dildo that they’ve been saving for this great occasion.
“I know you can’t use y’fingers, puppy.” Remus muses, dark, maroon irises twinkling with delight at the prospect of you having a lot of difficulty with those small hands of yours. “But we got this f’you, yeah? You’re not allowed to use it without permission...” He tells you, pulling it away a bit when James goes to make a grab at it. “... And if we even hear of you using it, we have people (they’re talking about Lily), and you’re not going to get away with it even if you tried, you will be severely punished, got it? This is only in the case of emergency. You hear me?”
You nod blearily, your tongue peeking out to smooth over your lips as your hips twitch softly against James’ thumb.
“Use your words.”
“Alright now, James is gonna use it, alright? S’not-” He’s cut off as the bespectacled boy plucks it from his grip, his hand leaving your clit in hopes that you’ll follow through on your own. But you don’t.
He laughs, shaking his head with playful dejection as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your thigh. “Gotta keep going, baby. Remember that we’re not gonna be here to do all the work for you, now. You’re gonna be on your own. If you’re lucky, Lils and Marlene will help you but it’s.. a slim chance.” James informs you, slowly trailing the head of the silicone cock through your dripping folds. “Keep playing with your clit for Daddy.”
“Y’can’t go too fast, or else it won’t feel as good, yeah? You gotta drag it out, make it last long so you can have a good feeling in your belly. S’not gonna feel as good without our cummies in there, but s’gonna feel good.” He rambles on as he goes ahead, slowly sheathing the magenta toy inside your slick heat.
It’s quite nearly a perfect mix of the three boys, with the curve of Sirius’ cock, the thick girth of James’, and the length of Remus’.
You’re squirming although you’ve just only started, involuntarily clenching so tightly around the member that James is having trouble moving it at all.
“Ease up, pretty girl. You’re alright.” James chuckles as he smears another endearing kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Keep working those fingers though, alright? Don’t let those stop. That’s gonna help you.”
“Okay, now I kind of realize why you wanted this so bad.” Sirius mumbles, almost abashedly as he watches your pussy take in the artificial cock. “S’fucking hot. I never get a good look down there, holy fuck she takes it so well. Look at her little pussy.” He can’t help but momentarily release his hold on your leg to reach down, taking charge and pushing your fingers away to rub against your clit himself.
“She’s supposed to be learning for herself, Pads.” Remus chastises, but he’s teasing, for he’s reaching over to pop the buttons on the button-up you’re clad in.
“Gotta play with your tits, now, don’t you? Your nipples are super sensitive.” Remus leans in, pressing his lips against your heated cheek as he mumbles the words into the flesh before pressing a soft kiss there. “Gotta pinch them.”
You’re subtly bucking your hips, subconsciously taking in more of the cock with each gentle movement until James’ hand disappears and it has stopped moving.
“Daddy!” You can’t help but whine but James shakes his head.
“Good girls don’t whine, bunny. We told you you have to learn on your own. Do it yourself, now.” James tuts, his tone of voice laced with forbidden mischief.
Your whine comes out garbled as you reach down with your other hand to grasp onto the base of the dildo, but your slick is making it more difficult than you originally perceived.
“S’too hard.” You mewl in desperation as you move it but a few millimeters in each direction.
“Baby, I know you didn’t come in here to just complain about it being too hard, yeah? You asked for our help and we’re giving it to you. Don’t act all prissy, angel.” Remus has popped the first few buttons of your white shirt open while his large fingers delve under the cup of your brassiere, deft fingertips brushing idly over your swollen nipples.
“S-Sensitive, Daddy.” You blubber as he pinches at the rosy buds, eliciting desperate cries from your throat.
“I know, poppet.” Remus responds, laughing a deep-rooted laugh. “That’s why I’m doing it.”
But then James is dragging your attention away from the freckled male as he guides his hand over your own, his large palm nearly engolfing the entirety of your hand as his fingers curl around the circular base of the dildo.
“Alright, let’s do it together, yeah? Get you all warmed up for when you have to do it all your own.”
His force is strong as he guides the silicone in and out of your sopping cunt, the artificial veins dragging deliciously against your throbbing walls, but it’s not nearly as good as what the boys are used to giving you.
The pressure in the pit of your belly is steadily growing as James presses a study palm against the bottom of your torso, feeling the bulge of the dildo inside your pussy as he helps you guide it in and out.
You were right, your arousal quite literally dripping over the rest of the dildo, and the grip he has is slipping a bit as he slowly retracts, allowing you to take full control.
“Good girl!” James beams, patting endearingly at the inside of your thigh. “Don’t forget your clit, though, kitten, s’gotta have a lot of attention. She’s a desperate little thing for attention, just like someone else I know.” He quirks, grabbing onto your other hand to guide the circles again.
Your climax is staring you down, pushing you into the corner until you can no longer dance on that edge and then it’s grabbing you by the throat and pulling you under. Your legs are trembling under Remus and Sirius’ grasp, and you want to convulse, to move, but their grip is so tight you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.
James waits a few moment for the ripples of euphoria to settle down until it’s but a mere purling in your belly until he pulls out the dildo, chuckling quietly at the way you cry out with overstimulation.
“Yeah, y’know, now that I think about it.” The brunet rises to his feet. “I’d rather just fuck her myself.”
TAGLIST: @james-potter-simp @nicodoesntexist @siriusblacks-bitch @adhara @stiffsockz @trickylittlewitch @a9283 @plzineedhelp @sokkas-socks @anggraenirhj @sambucky8 @hollandary @deansdeliciouspies @mentally-in-northern-italy @maravderofthephoenix @blackpinkdolan @anyasthoughts @florenceivy @harrys-girl-almighty @savingprivatecass @astmelie @thotbutpurple @heavenly-bratt @accio-rogers @sarcasticallywitty15 @psychkunox @totallyjovialblaze @wonderful-writer @asuperconfusedgirl @playgirl1 @hoeartchoke @figlia–della–luna @tinylumpiaa @lvpinsmoons @damonwhitlock @avengersassemblee @siriusblklftv @thatslovelymoony @pinkwhorecrux @milkshakelol @cecile-sucks @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @quindolyn @st0nesnglitter @marauderssimpthings @emmaev @lilymurphy03 @weasleyposts @rileyloves5 @carrotjoe @limerenze @zzzfour @maraudersgirlxx @pinkandblueblurbs @amixedwitch @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @memissbee @bluemoony11227 @auroraboringalis57 @wonderlandhatter @snoopydoop1 @buuchie @ohgodidontwannabehere @kittykylax @spxllcxstxr @ss-stilinski @susanaleitao510 @isxfisticated @l-adysansa @weasleywhore07
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A Sequel to Deadweight
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 6.3K
Summary: Three months after the events of Deadweight, Bucky and the reader move forward in their relationship and deal with the aftermath of what they experienced.
Warnings: 18+, smut, a certain promised shower 😏, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people), mild violence, discussion of previous violence and injury, PTSD, panic attack, me making up rules for the cradle and hoping they’re close to right, angst, fluff
Minors--this is not for you. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Please be discerning. Do not interact.
A/N: I was blown away by the response to Deadweight--y’all are the sweetest. This is the fluffier and smuttier sequel; still quite a bit of angst, because I can’t not, but a happy ending, because I can’t not do that either. You may be able to enjoy this fic independently, but I think the payoff is much better if you know what they’ve been through to get here. Feedback is welcome and appreciated--comment, message, or send me an ask! Tags are at the bottom.
“Really? You’re not messing with me?”
“No, Y/N,” Helen smiled, although it looked a bit more like a smirk. “I am not messing with you. The cast can come off today, and then you are cleared for active duty, as well as whatever...extra-curricular activities you may be interested in pursuing.”
There was that familiar pink blush again. You had seen a lot of it in the past three months. A certain super soldier found it to be very endearing, which only deepened the pink to a nice tomato red.
“We haven't done anything,” you protested, trying to cross your arms over your chest, but struggling with the bulkiness of the cast. Of course, the damn thing would have one last laugh before it finally came off.
“Right,” Helen teased, eyes narrowing.
“I’m serious,” you insisted. Then, grumbling under your breath: “He’s been really fucking annoying about it.”
Helen laughed. “Well, at least one of you can follow instructions, although I wouldn’t have guessed it would be James Barnes.”
You wouldn’t have guessed that either.
“You’re not serious.” You were perched next to Bucky on the edge of his bed. Cheeks flushed, chest heaving, shock written clearly on your face. A kiss that was definitely moving towards something more having been swiftly interrupted.
“Doll, please don’t make this harder.” He was panting too.
“That’s what she said.”
“That’s what who said?”
“I...never mind. But really...you’re serious?”
“Y/N, Helen specifically said--”
“Screw what Helen said! It’s been a month! That’s long enough!”
“No, Y/N. Please believe how much I want this. I want you. God, I want you. But...fuck, Y/N, you still have the cast.”
“I can work around that.”
“I’m sure we could,” he chuckled. “But I’m not putting your recovery in jeopardy to fuck you, as much as I may want to. Not when we’ve been given explicit instructions not to.”
“I’m not going to break! I’m fine. The cradle--”
“Doesn’t fix everything,” Bucky cut in gently. “It doesn’t fuse bones back together, although knowing Helen, I’m sure that’s coming soon. Your body needs time. And you, my love, are worth the wait.”
You sighed, heart rate finally fluttering back under control, and you leaned into his chest, arms threading around his waist. “You’re worth the wait, too,” you grumbled.
“Such conviction,” he teased, jabbing lightly at your side, and you giggled.
“I never figured James Barnes for a rule follower. Always thought that was Steve.”
“First of all,” Bucky spoke so sharply it made you jump, “Steven Grant Rogers is not a fucking rule follower. He’s a dumbass vigilante with good branding. Second...” He pulled away enough to meet your eye, voice softening. “I follow the rules that keep the people I love safe.”
You huffed. How could you object to that?
“Besides,” he continued, a wicked grin forming on his face, “I believe I was promised a shower, and we can’t really do that with a cast.”
Bucky had been true to his word. Almost three months to the day since you’d woken up in the med bay with his hands wrapped around yours, since you’d finished your first kiss in a hospital bed and he’d stayed with you until Helen shooed him away. Almost three months of dating Bucky Barnes, which was lovely and confusing, because how many couples got together because of an accidental confession of love mid-argument post-torture in a terrorist facility?
Almost three months of wonderfully normal dates. Walks around Brooklyn: a record store, a coffee shop, a farmer’s market. Dinner and a movie, because Bucky was a classic. A concert that you left early because you could see the crowds and the jostling getting to him, exchanged for a dance on the roof of the compound, the playlist you’d made for him a lifetime ago humming through the speakers.
Almost three months of figuring each other out, learning the details, although those honestly felt trivial when compared to the understanding you had after that ill-fated mission. But they were a joy to learn nonetheless, each insight adding a new thread into the life you were weaving together. How Bucky took his coffee--no cream, two sugars. The scar on your knee from falling during a theatre production in high school. The song his sister used to play on the piano any chance she got, because it was the only one she knew. Your favorite flower: a lotus, although you didn’t mention that but once, because they were hard to find for bouquets and you didn’t want him to go to the trouble.
He bought you a necklace with a lotus stamped into the pendant for your birthday, and you hadn’t taken it off yet.
Almost three months of dating this man, and you were dying. Figuratively, of course, but dying all the same.
Dying because in-a-relationship Bucky was a whole new Bucky, and you couldn’t get enough. Flirty comments. Playful touches at any chance he got—God, this man needed more positive physical touch in his life. And compliment after compliment after compliment that turned your face into a blushing mess.
“I think the shade of pink your face turns might be my new favorite color,” he’d said once. What the hell were you supposed to do with that?
Dying because you didn’t think you could love Bucky more, but every new little thing you noticed about him made you fall even further. The playlist you’d made him was on when he drove. When he read. When he showered. And good Lord, he sang in the shower. A little out of tune, but gorgeous nonetheless. Maybe he just didn’t know how to make a new playlist, but your smile practically touched your ears every time you heard it.
And in those rare moments where you got him flustered, he fidgeted with his hair, tucking it behind his ears, then ruffling it back forwards. Fuck, it was endearing.
Dying because Bucky had asked that the two of you keep your own rooms until you had fully healed—“I just don’t think I could keep my hands off you, doll”—and you were sleeping alone. Sleep was...challenging to say the least, after everything that had happened in that cement room, and you knew it was hard for him too, that it had always been. You wanted so badly to hold him through his nightmares and for him to hold you through yours, to fight off each other’s demons. But Bucky had set boundaries, and dammit, you were determined to respect them.
Dying because every kiss tasted like more and sparked a heat pooling in your stomach, and even if he wasn’t calling you the love of his life and sweeping you off your feet, which he was, he was a sight to behold.
Okay, maybe you weren’t dying. You had experienced something close to that, and this certainly wasn’t it.
But it still took every measure of your self-control not to sprint out of the med bay the second your cast was off, and you took the stairs two at a time to the gym, where you knew he would be finishing up a sparring session with Sam.
You paused for a moment outside the door, trying to control your breathing, but to no avail. You tucked your left arm behind your back and pushed into the room, only to collide directly with a wall of muscle.
Bucky caught you with ease, sweeping you into a dip and capturing your lips in his like a pose out of a movie. Your heart fluttered, and you vaguely registered Sam nearby groaning at the two of you to get a room.
If you insist, Sam.
Bucky drew back. “Hi, doll,” he grinned. His steel blue eyes full of affection, his face glistening from his workout. Fuck, you were so ready for this. He leaned in again, but you pressed a finger to his lips.
“Buck.” You scrunched your nose. “You need a shower.”
Mild frustration twisted his features. “Geez, doll,” he grumbled, setting you back on your feet. “Way to kill the mood.”
You grinned. “No, Buck,” you whispered, raising your left arm and wiggling your fingers teasingly. “You need a shower.”
Bucky’s brows furrowed for a split second as his eyes flicked from yours to your recently liberated appendage. Realization hit, and his pupils dilated, stormy blue almost eclipsed by inky black. “You’re cleared?” he breathed, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it.
You couldn’t contain your smile as you nodded.
“Sorry, Sam,” Bucky said evenly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Raincheck on that cool down. I have something better to do. Or rather, someone.” He grabbed your hand and nearly dragged you out after him. You giggled as you turned back to wave at Sam, who was rolling his eyes, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Have fun!” he called.
If you insist.
Bucky didn’t let go of your hand until the elevator doors closed. He was silent as he pressed the button for his floor, and you couldn’t help but notice him fidgeting with his hair. Was he reconsidering?
“Bucky, if you aren’t rea--”
“You’re sure you want this?”
Your jaw dropped. “Bucky, I’ve wanted this since we got back. Before that, even. Of course I want this.”
“Okay, it’s just--I don’t want you to feel obligated. I don’t expect you to honor a stupid deal you made on your deathbed.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, a teasing smile on your lips. “Excuse me, Sergeant Barnes. I take my deathbed deals very seriously, and I hope you intend to live up to your end of the bargain, or--” The rest of that threat died in your throat, cut off by Bucky’s lips on yours. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him, as he peppered kisses from the trace of the scar on your forehead, down your jaw and onto your neck.
“Bucky,” you giggled, his scruff tickling your neck. “Bucky--oh--” He nipped at the pulse point on your throat. “There--there’s a camera in here.”
“I don’t care,” he growled, his metal fingers teasing through your hair. “We’ve waited long enough.”
His lips found their way back to yours and his tongue pressed in. You sighed against him, and his hands slid down to the backs of your thighs, prompting you up. You gladly obliged, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.
The kiss didn’t break as he carried you through the opening elevator door and down the hall, hands firmly planted on your ass. It didn’t break as he fumbled with his door behind you, your back pressing against the surface until it finally gave way. It didn’t break as he shouldered into the bathroom and perched you on the counter. It didn’t break until you couldn’t breathe and you finally pulled away panting, fingers tangling in his hair.
“Ah,” Bucky heaved. “So there’s more than one way to see my favorite color.”
“Shut up,” you groaned, fingers fumbling at the hem on his shirt. You slid it up over his head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. One look at the man before you, and the warmth that was tensing in your stomach clenched tighter. Bucky was an Adonis—glistening and carved chest and stomach, a v-shape disappearing into the stripe of his boxers that peeked out over the top of his sweats. Jaw tensed. Flyaways disturbed by the shirt sliding over his head framing his face like a halo. Metal arm glinting in the light. You wondered what those fingers would feel like inside you. As chance would have it, you wouldn’t have to wonder long.
He slid your own shirt off, and you rued even that split second your vision of him was obscured by fabric. You started to reach for his sweats, to free him of those, too, but he caught your hands in his.
“Let me take care of you first,” he breathed. If you had been standing, your knees would have buckled.
Bucky eased you back further on the counter, and you leaned against the mirror, raising your hips up to push your leggings and panties down. He slid them the rest of the way off your legs, and you were left panting on the counter. Bare to him except your bra, knees fighting to press together in self-doubt.
One look into his eyes and that dissipated. “So fucking beautiful,” he growled. “Fuck, Y/N, I already knew you were perfect, but somehow you’ve passed that too.” He planted his hands on your knees and eased them apart further.
“Fuck, yes.” Bucky was between your legs in a split second.
You gasped as his tongue licked a stripe straight up your core before stopping to circle at your clit. Fingers teased at the edges of your inner thighs, the discrepancy in their temperature sending a delicious muddle of sensations arching through you.
“You’re so wet for me, doll,” he panted, brushing his thumb around that sensitive bundle of nerves in slow, teasing loops.
“Well, you had me waiting for three mon—ha—” Your toes curled as his lips wrapped around your clit again and sucked, and one of the fingers on his right hand teased at your entrance. He ran it gently along the folds for a moment, skimming through the slick, sending little tingles coursing through you that were nowhere near enough, until finally, he eased it in. Your eyes fluttered and your head arched back at the feeling of his finger pumping inside you, joined quickly by a second. His warm tongue still teasing at your clit.
“More,” you started to plead, and then his fingers curled, brushing over that spot, and you saw stars. He pumped them a few more times, each curl drawing something between a pant and a moan from you, before sliding them out. You missed them immediately, but were almost sated by the sight of Bucky drawing himself back up to his full height and sucking his fingers clean.
He leaned back over you, a teasing grin on his face, pressing a kiss to the lotus pendant laying on your chest, lips ghosting over the hollow of your throat, and you started to protest, wanting more—
A shiver that racked your entire body coursed up your spine as a very cold silver finger drew lazy strokes around the edges of your folds.
“Bucky,” you whined. Your hands gripped at the edge of the counter so hard you thought you might crack the stone.
“Yes, doll?” he asked innocently. “What is it you want?”
“Buck,” you breathed. Those lazy circles dipped closer to your core, so cold, still not enough. “Buck, please.”
“Words, sweetheart.” Fuck.
“Please,” you panted. “I need more.”
Those words weren’t really much clearer, but Bucky was too impatient to hold out much longer. Two cold silver fingers pressed into you, curling like their softer predecessors had, and it was all you could do not to come undone.
“Doll, you look so pretty like this,” he breathed, pumping those damn metal fingers over and over again, a galaxy of stars exploding in your brain.
He dipped back down to your clit, tongue latching onto it again, and you fell over the edge. Entire body tensing like a fist, core clenching around unyielding metal. Chest heaving, sweat dripping down your back. And then release, the release you’d been craving for three damn months.
“Now, who needs a shower?” he teased, pulling his hand away. You sat up, trying to compose a smirk on your face.
“Oh, I hope you don’t think we’re done yet, Sergeant.” You pushed yourself up off the counter, a bit weak in the knees, but definitely ready for more.
You pushed past him without a glance, opening the glass door of the shower and turning it on. The thrumming of the water wasn’t loud enough to drown out the pants of anticipation coming from the man behind you. Still not bothering to look at him, you reached back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor.
Finally, you spun to face him, silver pendant swinging to slap against your bare chest, as you backed slowly into the shower, a teasing grin on your face.
“Fuck, doll. Look at you,” he groaned. And look at you, he did. Eyes scanning hungrily down your naked form, now glistening with the spray of the shower head. A muddle of love and desire painted across his face like a damn masterpiece.
His sweats and boxers hit the floor, and you almost did too. Holy fuck.
He was on you in a second, shower door slamming behind him, pressing you against the cold tile, his hands sliding up your ribs and cupping under your breasts. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples as metal fingers teased at the other. Your arms flailed a bit, knocking shampoo bottles to the floor, and you had to grab onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Delicious conflict as the nerves on your chest received both hot, wet kisses and cold, unyielding flicks and strokes.
Your feet skimmed along the tile, searching for traction, for leverage, and finding none. Your fingers threaded up into dark, damp hair, and you pulled him back, gasping as his mouth left your breast.
“Bucky,” you whined. “Need you...” You could hardly breathe, the steam of the shower flooding your lungs. “Need you inside me.”
Bucky grinned, planting both hands on either side of your head, caging you in between his arms, mismatched but both perfect. His lips brushed against your ear, and he chuckled. “God, I’ve been waiting for this.”
He wrapped his right hand around your thigh, hiking your leg up to wrap around his hip, and then his tip was teasing at your entrance, probing at the slick folds. You pressed your heel into the small of his back, spurring him forward, and he obliged. Slowly, achingly sliding in. So patient, allowing you to adjust.
“Would you stop being so damn gentle and fuck me?”
He laughed, and the sound made your walls clench around him. The laugh dissolved into a groan. “Careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”
He thrust the rest of the way into you, and the stars were back, spinning and dancing—fuck, they may as well have been doing an Irish jig—as he pressed in again and again, hips slamming into yours. Your hands were back on his shoulders, fingers raking down his back hard enough to leave marks. You wondered absentmindedly if you looked as good through the glass door as you felt. You were sure Bucky did.
The air was thick with steam and sex and moans and heavy breaths. Your whole world was the glimmer of steel blue flickering behind dark lashes as he gasped and panted and railed you against the shower wall, three months of a promise in the making, and even longer of mutual desire the two of you had been too damn blind to see. God, did you have lost time to make up for.
And then those metal fingers were on your clit, snaking between warm bodies, and that lost time lost all meaning. You tumbled over the edge with a breathy cry, and Bucky chased right after, spilling warmth into you and down your legs to join the sweat and the steam.
Nothing was said for a moment as you both came down, heavy breaths and pounding water filling the silence.
“That was...” you panted as he slid out of you. Fucking hot. Incredible. Better than I’ve ever had.
“So damn worth the wait,” he teased, earning a shove to his shoulder. But Bucky was immovable, and the resistance knocked you off balance, your feet sliding out from under you.
Perfect arms caught you right before your head smacked against the wall, pulling you back in. Your chest pressed against his, and you could feel his heart racing beneath the muscle, flying just as fast as your own. You pulled him down just enough, rising on tiptoes to press soft kisses to the scars on his shoulder.
Bucky moaned. “Hold on doll,” he pleaded. “I have no intention of waiting that long ever again, but maybe round two should be somewhere a bit less slippery. A bed, maybe?”
You pulled away to find a grin matching your own. “This better be the fastest damn shower you’ve ever taken, Sergeant.”
“You want to what?”
Bucky sighed. “Take you out, doll.”
“Like on a date?”
“Well I’d rather not assassinate you, so...” She jabbed at his ribs, but winced at the impact on her unprotected nail bed. He grabbed at her hand. “You’ve gotta stop doing that, doll. You're not gonna heal if you keep trying to beat me up.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Right,” he half-teased, looking her over for what was probably the millionth time. The cradle had worked wonders for Y/N, but she was only two days out of the med bay, and it showed. A cast on her left arm, paired with a sling, and some sort of metal brace that wrapped around her left hip that she was supposed to keep on for the next week. Dapples of green, the last remnants of bruises, painting a sickly cast over her, despite the warmth in her cheeks. Three missing fingernails on her right hand, promised to grow back in the next sixth months.
And then there were the scars.
The cradle was a masterpiece of innovation, seemingly miraculous in its ability to generate tissue and knit wounds back together, as it had done with the numerous ruptures hidden beneath the surface of Y/N’s body. But it didn’t do so without leaving trace.
Dozens of reminders of the cement room and the explosion before it littered her body, patches and stripes of skin shinier than the rest. Small nondescript nicks with no particular memory attached, paired with a handful that made Bucky’s blood run cold if he let himself remember the screams that came with them. A slice across her forehead. A ring around her wrist. A quarter-sized circle on her collarbone.
“Hey. Buck. You with me? You were trying to ask me something?”
Bucky flinched, drawn back to the woman before him. “Yes. Right. I did ask you. But I want to take you out on a date.”
“Bucky.” She shook her head helplessly. “First of all, look at me. I’m not exactly date material right now.” He started to protest, and she held up a hand to silence him. “Second, I feel like we’re a little bit past the whole first date thing, given, you know...everything.”
“Y/N. First of all,” he threw back at her, “you are never not date material. I never want to hear you say anything resembling that ever again.” It was her turn to protest, but he didn’t let her get a word in either. “Second! Who gives a fuck if we go a bit out of order? I’m going to treat my girl right, and I want to take her out on a proper date.”
“A bit out of order?” she teased.
Her smile nearly split her face in two. “Fuck me, yourself,” she giggled.
He fidgeted with his hair a bit, but he wasn’t able to resist drawing that blush onto her cheeks. “Oh, trust me, doll. I will. Later.”
The blush reached her ears this time. So fucking adorable. “But first,” he continued, “a date. We can at least get that right.”
She paused, as though contemplating, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Music. Mission. Shit hitting the fan. Confession of love via screaming match. Near-death experience. Love confession again, mutually. Making out. A date--”
“Hopefully more than one,” Bucky interjected ruefully.
“Multiple dates,” she corrected. “And then...later.” She winked. “Sounds like a reasonable arrangement to me.”
The shock from sleep into the waking world was normally a welcome one for Bucky, pulling him from a haunted reality into slightly brighter one. But Bucky fought it this time, clinging to the dregs of a dream where a beautiful girl had her arms wrapped around his neck, swaying in the chill air. The fading strains of music lingered in his ears, but they were cut off sharply by a low whine.
Bucky was accustomed to waking up to sounds of anguish, but they were normally his own. Instead, his eyes shot open, adjusting quickly to the darkness. He was tangled in the sheets of his own bed, a reminder of the round two that he had promised Y/N, and the round three that had followed, before the pair had fallen asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
Now, though, Y/N was tensed at the far edge of the bed. Eyes scrunched shut, face contorted with pain, flinching away from an unseen attacker.
“No,” she pleaded. “No, n—” Bucky’s heart nearly stopped as a shattered scream ripped from her throat, and for a moment he was back in that fucking cement room, trapped behind crisscrossing metal as the woman he loved writhed in metal restraints, under the hand of the man with the brown eyes all over again.
But a broken “Please, please” from her lips drew him back. She needed him here.
“Y/N,” he pleaded, a hand reaching hesitantly towards her. He didn’t want to startle her, but he knew from experience that the shock was worlds better than the reliving.
“Y/N, you’re okay, doll. I’m right here.” He eased closer to her trembling form.
“You’re safe, love.” He had hardly brushed his fingers across her shoulder before she bolted upright, and Bucky vaguely registered a stinging on his cheek.
Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic as she scrambled away from him, feet tangling in the sheets. She nearly pitched off the side of the bed, but he caught her by the arm and eased her away from the edge before backing off immediately.
Her chest was heaving, eyes darting around the room, waiting for more attacks that he wanted to promise would never come.
“Y/N,” he whispered lowly, “you’re safe. We’re at the compound. You’re okay.” Palms out in surrender, reaching slowly towards her.
“Y/N, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you ever again. It was a dream, love. I know it felt real. Trust me, I know. But you’re safe.” His hand landed lightly on her clenched fist, and she flinched, but didn’t recoil.
“Y/N, can you hear me?” She nodded absently, but her eyes were distant. Still in that fucking room.
“Y/N, honey. Come back to me, doll.” His voice was thick with tears, but he choked them down, steadying his breath. He pulled her hand gently to him, resting it on his chest, her fingers still locked in a fist.
Bring her back.
Bucky cleared his throat, searching for words, any words, and landing on the fading remnants of his dream. “Do you remember our fourth date?” No answer.
No questions. Don’t ask questions. Just talk.
“I think it was my favorite one. Don’t get me wrong, I love all of our dates. But this one was special.” He felt her fingers soften, just barely. “We went to this shitty concert down in Queens. That was our first mistake, I think. Going to Queens.”
Y/N didn’t smile, but her eyes flicked to his for just a second before flitting away again.
“The venue was gross. The music was bad, although I think you liked it anyway. I can’t even remember the guy’s name. And there were so many fucking people there.” The fist relaxed into a palm pressed hesitantly against his chest. “I made it through four songs before you told me you wanted to leave. I didn’t really believe you. You had been dancing and singing along and it was so damn cute. But you knew that it was too much for me. Too loud. Too full. Too many people bumping into me.”
Her eyes seemed to slide a bit more into focus, fixated on the hollow of his throat. He pressed on with his story: “You dragged me out of there without a second thought, and I knew all over again that I was a goner for you. We went up to the roof of the compound, and put that playlist on for the zillionth time, and we just swayed under the stars.”
Y/N startled to tremble, her hand fidgeting on his chest.
“I held you, listening to the same song that I fell in love with you to, and you were the only thing in the world. You still are. The only thing that matters, anyway.”
And then she broke. Choked sobs racked her body, and her eyes locked on his for a moment before she collapsed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her, hands coming to rest on her back and in her hair.
“It’s okay, honey,” Bucky soothed. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re okay.” She heaved against him, choking breaths coming too fast. “Breathe, Y/N. You have to breathe, doll. Try to match mine. You’re okay.” Tears streamed down his own cheeks as he held her close, feeling her breath slowly return to something resembling normal.
When she had been quiet for a little while, he cleared his throat. “Y/N. How long have these been happening?” There was no way that had been the first.
She didn’t answer, and Bucky’s heart sank. “Has it been the whole time?” he asked helplessly. She tensed against him, before nodding very slowly.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, tears falling down his cheeks and into her hair, “why didn’t you say anything?”
She pulled away, eyes fixing on her hands in her lap. “I—I didn’t want you to worry, and I know sleep is already so hard for you, and you were set—setting boundaries...I wanted to respect that.”
“Doll, you still have to speak up if shit like this is happening,” he said gently. “I appreciate you wanting to respect boundaries, really. But this is so much more complicated, and the solution is not for you to shoulder through it by yourself.”
He paused, a debate raging in his head. Screw it. Let’s get this all out there. “Doll, I didn’t ask you to stay in your room because I didn’t think we could handle it. Granted,” he smiled ruefully, “you are fucking hot and I’m amazed I survived these three months. But the truth is that before you were released from the med bay...and for a while after...I saw you...and heard you...in that room. Every time I closed my eyes.” She still wasn’t looking at him, but her eyes welled up with tears again.
“You didn’t say anything,” he continued. “I thought you were doing okay, although I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how. I was a wreck. But when they let you go back to a normal room, I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want you to see me like that, or to have to remember anything because of me.”
Eyes still downcast, she snaked a hand into his own and pulled it into her lap, her thumb running small circles over the back of his hand. His eyes fixed on the invisible loop she drew over and over again.
“I thought that your time to recover physically would be enough. And for me, it was. Mostly. Because those nightmares have been all but replaced by everything that’s happened in the last three months. They’re not gone entirely, and it probably would have been a hell of a lot easier to wake up from them and see you safe beside me. But I didn’t want to put that on you.”
Silence for a moment, and then: “I guess you’re just a self-sacrificing dumbass, then,” she whispered. Bucky looked up to see a sad smile on her face, and he matched it.
“This coming from the woman who told me to abandon her in a Hydra compound. Like...four times.” Her eyes fell again.
He grimaced. “Y/N...this is something we need to sort through together. I know that’s not really either of our thing, but...”
She nodded. Tears spilled over again as she whispered, “Buck, does it...does it get easier?”
His heart broke. “Oh, sweetheart.” He pulled her hand up and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “So much better. It’s not linear, ever. There will be days when it feels like you’re starting all over again. But so much better, love. You didn’t know me when I first got here. Even if you’d been here you wouldn’t know me, because I was a shell of anything that I’d ever been.” He paused. “I’m not the man I was before the war either. I don’t think I’ll ever be. But that’s not the goal, is it?”
Bucky ran a thumb along her jaw, gently pulling her gaze to his. “I love you in the broken and the better. In the version that’s here today, and the one that was there yesterday, and the one that’ll be here when we’re old and grey and you’re still telling me to ‘fuck me, yourself.’ Although I suppose I’ve already accomplished the old part.” She giggled, and Bucky felt his whole body exhale at the sound.
She stopped when her eyes fell on his cheek. Three thin lines, already clotted over, but lined with blood all the same. She reached hesitantly towards his face, stopping short. “I—” Her voice broke. “I hurt you—”
“Doll, stop. I’m fine. This is nothing.” He could tell she didn’t believe him. Tears were spilling over again. “I stabbed Steve once.”
That brought her back. “You what?”
He nodded, a trace of a grin on his face. After everything he’d done, everything he’d been through, she was worried about a couple scratches on his face that he’d already forgotten about, that would be gone by morning. He remembered for a moment the concern on her face at a shard of metal lodged in his thigh, while she lay bleeding and pinned under a pile of concrete.
Self-sacrificing dumbass. A matching pair, they were.
“A week after I got to the compound, Steve realized I was having nightmares. He asked FRIDAY to notify him when I had them so he could come pull me back...I didn’t know he did that. And he didn’t know I was sleeping with a knife in my hand. A knife that I promptly buried in his shoulder the second he touched me.” He reached behind him to the nightstand, carding through the contents of the drawer before coming up with a dark metal blade, three inches before the handle. Y/N’s jaw dropped.
“He was fine,” he assured her. “Clearly, he’s fine. He didn’t even have the heart to give me grief about it. Although he started bringing his shield with him whenever he came to wake me up.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he knew she meant for more than the scratches.
“Love, don’t be sorry. You have so much to heal from. Your body got the focus, but everything else has to catch up. And I’m here for whatever that looks like. Maybe you try one of the psychologists Helen recommended. Or we could go together. As much as I hate to agree with Tony, he swears by it, and I think he’s right on this one.”
Her hands fidgeted, her eyes searching his. “You—you’d go with me?”
“Of course, doll. Hell, it’d probably be good for me too. And,” he continued, “I will always be here to fight the demons away. Maybe you can meet mine sometime, too.”
She huffed. “I’ll kick their fucking asses.”
“Of course you will, doll. C’mere.” He pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms around her and easing them both back down onto the bed. She settled with one hand pressed to his chest, the other tracing soft lines in the divots on his shoulder. His chin rested on the crown of her head, his hands wrapped around her waist and fiddling with her hair. Breathing as one. Ready to fight the demons away.
“Y’know,” Bucky said after a moment. “I think I definitely upgraded.”
“I swapped a knife for a badass woman in my bed. I think the latter is more dangerous. And definitely much sexier.” He didn’t have to look at her to know the pink that was painting across her cheeks, but he couldn’t resist. He hummed at the sight, swooping in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, then a second to the scar on her collarbone. “My favorite color.”
“You ass,” she grumbled, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
“Doll, you should know right now that I have made it my mission in life to see that blush as many times as I possibly can.” She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling in earnest now.
“Please tell me that a few of those times will come from what we do...later.” The blush was deeper now, and he chuckled.
“Oh doll, far more than a few. You wound me even to ask.” She laughed, and Bucky fell in love all over again. He expected he’d be falling every day of his life.
“I love you, Bucky.” She was a quiet for a moment, and then: “Even if you are a self-sacrificing dumbass.”
He grinned. “You’re one to talk, doll.”
He brought her hand to his lips, peppering her knuckles with kisses. “I love you so much, Y/N.” She sighed into him, shifting closer. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
Bucky couldn’t help the traces of a quiet hum falling from his lips as Y/N’s breath evened against his chest. Hints of a tune from a bay window and jostled shoulders, from a cold rooftop and her arms around his neck and a sky full of stars.
Listen to “Heavy” by Birdtalker Here
A/N: This fic was never one that I intended to write, but once the suggestion/request was made, I couldn’t stop thinking about where these two would go next. Many thanks to those who loved Deadweight so much that they inspired a whole new piece (tagged below).
I know the structure of the piece is a bit atypical, as the long-awaited smut is usually the plot climax (no pun intended). But that was how I felt this particular iteration of Bucky and the reader would process the events of Deadweight. Neither of them are really written to be the type to ask for help, and I think they would have felt that physical intimacy would be the best solution to the trauma they experienced. It certainly didn’t hurt, and in fact, created the vulnerability they needed, but in this case the sex was more of a stepping stone to emotional healing.
On the subject of smut, this is my first attempt. I’m mostly pleased with how it came out, but I’m not sure that it’s my forte. I think angst, whump, and a bit of fluff are more my speed for now, so feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Goodness knows there are some very skilled smut writers on this site, and perhaps some of you could provide some suggestions for improvement.
Lastly, I think this plot line ends here, at least for the foreseeable future. I’m a sucker for a happy ending, so please feel free to fill in the blanks yourself for the remainder of their healing process, which would certainly not be a linear one, and would more than likely take the remainder of their lives, as healing tends to do. But I’m confident in the victory of these two, as individuals and as a pair.
Thank you so, so much for reading!
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