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eksvaized · 26 days

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Part Six König / Ghost / Reader [ Previous 〡 Next ] ︱AO3 ︱Wattpad ︱ taglist (if you want to be added - let me know!): @strawberrygato, @ghostslittlegf, @eskalotte, @abcdbleh, @yawning-grave81, @liamwholover, @valira-demaur, @idek101-01, @mizu-bozu

After König has done his utmost to soothe your frenzied state, he gently ushers you into the bedroom. With a gentle push, he makes you lie down before wrapping you in a mountain of blankets. Then he disappears into the bathroom because he still needs to take a shower and wash all the dirt and grime off his body.

During this interlude of solitude, you attempt to corral your frenetic thoughts, which are galloping through your mind at a frantic pace. The relentless racing of your thoughts intensifies the throbbing in your head. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot. Strands of your hair cling to your damp cheeks. But, at least your sobbing has ceased, and your tears have evaporated, leaving behind only their salty residue.

The silence that cloaks the room, like a comforting shroud, begins to massage your nerves, unknotting the taut tension in your shoulders. It’s as if an oppressive weight is slowly being lifted, and the waves of stress and anxiety are receding.

Everything that happened—days filled with worry, nights marred by a lack of sleep, the conversation with König—now seems just like a distant, bad dream. A nightmare that you’ve just woken up from.

Surprisingly, when you accused König of cheating, the argument did not escalate into a full-blown fight. Despite the tension and your skepticism, he was able to persuade you that there’s nothing going on between him and Sarah. He confessed that there might have been times where their interactions could have been misconstrued as flirtatious, but he assured you that his relationship with her remained strictly professional. König made it clear—she isn’t his type, and he has absolutely no intention of jeopardizing the relationship that he has built with you over the past two years just because some woman happened to bat her lashes at him.

When you asked why he keeps entertaining her presence, why he doesn’t outright reject her advances, his response was that he simply couldn’t afford to ignore her. He revealed that the higher-ups had grown suspicious of Sarah, likely due to her recent transfer. Their tendency to scrutinize everyone and everything, as if looking through a magnifying glass, had led them to task König with the responsibility of monitoring her activities. This was an assignment he had initially desired to refuse. However, his resistance was eventually chipped away by the promise of additional compensation for his efforts.

“And I need that money—” His statement caused your eyebrows to knit together in confusion. After all, his current income was more than sufficient. “I’m saving it for something.”

His cryptic response only ignited your confusion, like a spark in dry tinder. When you probed, he only offered a shake of his head. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He planted a kiss on your forehead, and said, “Can’t tell yet.”

You trust König, and you want to believe him and everything he’s told you. However, after your mind refuses to quiet down, you get out of bed. As your bare feet touch the cool floor, a shiver slithers down your spine. You kneel down in front of König’s duffel bag, which he has thrown down by the wardrobe. After rummaging through the pockets, you pull out his phone.

Deep down, you know there is something you need to do, something crucial, before you can forget about all of this, before you can lay your doubts to rest.

The soft hum of the shower from the bathroom abruptly ceases. Your eyes dart to the closed door as you freeze in place. You strain your ears, listening for the telltale sound of footsteps, but there is none. You know you can’t let König find you snooping through his phone again. So, with your heart pounding in your chest, when he doesn’t come into the room, your attention returns to the phone in your hands. You enter his passcode and unlock it.

Your mind is consumed, fully focused on one task: checking for any new text messages from Sarah. Every ounce of your being needs to know, to confirm, if he and Sarah had been in any form of contact while he was away. Your eyes hungrily skim through all the conversations, the old ones, and the recent ones. But after what seems like an eternity, you come to a heart-wrenching realization. The entire conversation thread between him and Sarah, every single exchange, has vanished. He has scrubbed his phone clean, like a crime scene, meticulously wiped of any incriminating evidence.

Why would he go to such lengths to delete everything if there was truly nothing going on between them? After all, you’ve already read all their messages, so there’s no point in hiding them now... unless he didn’t tell you the whole truth.

The whirlwind of thoughts in your mind is unrelenting, each one darker and more terrifying than the last. Amidst this chaos, an idea emerges. It’s a foolish one, so much so that you can almost hear the voice in your head chastising you for even giving it a moment’s consideration. It’s an idea you shouldn’t even entertain, let alone consider acting on. Yet, time is a luxury you simply don’t have. You take a moment to draw in a deep breath, attempting to steady the storm within you. With a newfound, albeit shaky, resolve, you press the call button.

Slowly, you walk to the window; the phone clutched tightly in your hand. As you press it to your ear, the nerve-wracking beeping sound echoes in your head. Each beep seems to amplify your unease, stirring up a churning sensation in your stomach. Deep down, buried under layers of rational thought and logical reasoning, you know it’s wrong to call Sarah. But you want to hear her voice; you need to speak with her, even if you are not sure what you are going to say.

The beeping comes to an abrupt halt, and your heart seems to stop beating for a moment when you hear the high-pitched ‘hey’ from the other end of the line.

You hold your breath, remaining silent, hoping that she wouldn’t catch on that it isn’t König who is calling her.

“Miss me already, hm?”

The urge to say something, to tell her to stay away from König, is overpowering, but the words are stubbornly stuck in your throat. Your body freezes, as if ensnared and bound by unseen chains that constrict tighter with each syllable she utters. Your fingers curl around the curtains, grasping them tightly as if their thin fabric could somehow prevent you from collapsing. Your legs feel wobbly, like they might give way underneath you at any moment.

“You left without saying goodbye, and now I can’t stop thinking about you… and your promise to have a cup of coffee with me after you return. Although I was thinking… Maybe we should go for something stronger? A beer for you, and some nice fruity cocktail for me. Of course, I’ll expect you to be the gentleman I know you are and pay—”

As if in slow motion, the phone slips away from your trembling hand. It crashes onto the ground with a sound that reverberates throughout the room. Skidding across the floor, it disappears from sight, hiding somewhere under the dark abyss of the bed. Despite its disappearance, Sarah’s piercing voice continues to echo, as she giggles, calling out to König in an annoyingly sweet tone.

This is all too much for you: you shouldn’t have called her, you shouldn’t have dared to touch König’s phone. This was all a mistake—trusting König was a mistake.

A crushing pressure, akin to an iron band tightening around your chest, begins to build, making breathing feel like a grueling battle. Your breaths become rapid, erratic and shallow, and each gulp of air is harder to catch than the last. Your vision blurs at the edges, the world around you spinning out of control. Panic sets in and you realise you need to escape from the house; an overwhelming urge to leave, to run and hide from the world until it stops spinning, takes over. Until the feeling that you are going to run out of breath and faint subsides.

Managing to gather some strength, you hurriedly pull a sweater over your head and stuff your feet into your sneakers. With a newfound urgency, you bolt out of the bedroom, forcing your legs to move even faster when the sound of the bathroom door creaking open reaches your ears. But before König has a chance to see you, before he has an opportunity to catch and stop you, you’ve already fled the house and the front door slams shut behind you.

The icy breeze greets you outside, whipping against your exposed skin and leaving a chilly, tingling sensation on your face. You stand there for a moment, allowing the cold to seep into your bones and the uncertainty to creep into your mind. But then your feet carry you across the empty street. After a few minutes of frantic doorbell ringing, or rather, smashing the button with your index finger until your nail chips off, the door finally creaks open. Simon’s face peers through the crack, his eyebrows knitted together in surprise. It’s clear that he didn’t expect to see you tonight, especially because you had declined his earlier offer to come over.

“Can I come in?” You ask with a trembling voice. But before he can answer, you push past him and step inside. You’ve decided that you aren’t ready to take no for an answer—not tonight. Your options are limited, to say the least. Your family lives across the country, and you don’t have any friends you can turn to. Simon is the only one you can rely on.

A few days ago, in the serene hours of a late-night conversation, he made a promise to you. He told you that you could count on him. That no matter what happens, if you ever need anything, he’s there for you.

After you step inside, Simon closes the door, his tall figure casting a long shadow on the worn-out carpet. He turns around to face you, his eyes filled with quiet patience as he waits for you to explain why you’ve shown up at his doorstep like this, why your eyes are red and puffy from what seems like hours of crying, and why you look like you want to kill someone.

“I think he is lying to me,” you say. Simon’s face contorts into a puzzled expression. He’s unsure about what you’re referring to. “My boyfriend. I confronted him earlier. He said he wasn’t cheating, but I didn’t believe him. I don’t know why—I ended up calling her...” You trail off, pausing to exhale. “I don’t know why I did that. But when she picked up—she didn’t say much—but just the way she spoke, the flirty tone in her voice... makes me think he didn’t tell me the whole truth.”

Simon lets you vent for the rest of the night and listens to you without interjecting. At first, you struggle with articulating your whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, but the encouragement in Simon’s eyes, the light hand squeezes, and his small, understanding nods embolden you. He keeps you talking, letting you rant until your words run out and there’s nothing left to say.

“You can stay here tonight,” Simon offers. “...if you want.”

You nod. The idea of spending the night on his couch doesn’t necessarily sound like the epitome of comfort, but the thought of going home tonight fills you with a sense of dread. You don’t want to see König; you can’t even bear the thought of looking at him. You need a brief respite from his presence, some time to process everything and decide on what you want to do next.

As your eyes graze over the clock, you can feel the weight of exhaustion settling in, realising how late it is.

“You don’t need to babysit me for the rest of the night. You should go to bed,” you say, but Simon shakes his head.

“I don’t mind staying up, and I doubt you want to be alone.”

As you lean into him, you find a comfortable spot where your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. Your hands fall into your lap and you tug at the hem of your sweater, fiddling with the loose thread. His arm drapes over your frame. The rhythmic motion of his fingers on your shoulder, tracing soothing, tight circles, releases the anxiety in your body, leaving you feeling completely relaxed.

A yawn escapes your lips, and you rub your eyes in an attempt to ward off your drowsiness. Simon says something, but his words are lost to you since you’re not paying attention. You raise your chin to look at him, a question “What?” leaving your lips.

“Are you tired?” He repeats and his eyes lock with yours. “You can sleep in my bed if you’d like. I’ll take the couch.”

You suddenly become aware of just how close he is—the space between your faces is virtually nonexistent. You can feel his warm breath on your skin as he exhales, his arm slowly slipping down from your shoulder, his fingertips lightly tracing your curves before he rests his hand on your hip.

Your eyes, drawn as if by a magnetic force, gravitate towards his lips. An insistent voice in the back of your mind scream at you to draw away, to retreat from the uncharted territory you are about to cross. However, you choose to defy it, silencing the voice and clearing your mind. Slowly, you inch forward, closing the remaining gap. Simon doesn’t recoil. He doesn’t reject your advance. After an initial moment of stillness, he reciprocates, his lips brushing against yours.

As he kisses you, his touch on your cheek is both soothing and exhilarating—a paradox of sensations that leaves your heart pounding in your chest. His thumb traces gentle circles on your skin as he deepens the kiss, subtly urging you to tilt your head to accommodate him. You find yourself being gently maneuvered onto the couch, with him looming over you. His body presses against yours, becoming a source of heat in the cool room.

You know that you shouldn’t be kissing him, that you shouldn’t be allowing him to touch you. Yet, you find that you can’t, or perhaps more accurately, don’t want to stop. And he, in his silent acquiescence, doesn’t move away from you either.

A/N: this will be the last update till the weekend cuz I have to focus on uni and exams for a bit p.s. most of you know that I'm editing this fic (hence why I deleted the old chapters), and so, if you have read this story already & know how it will end, please don't spoil it in the comments because I enjoy reading reactions from people who have stumbled upon this story for the first time anyway, thank you for reading and commenting!! all the feedback motivates me and makes me excited to edit and post rest of the chapters :)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #call of duty #writing #cod #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #konig cod #konigxghostxreader #konig call of duty #konig x reader #fem!reader

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upon-a-starry-night · 10 months

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Number Neighbors Pt.5

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist!

Word Count: 751

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

Nat stared down at her screen in disbelief, not only were the two of you close to each other during the battle of New York but apparently, she had actually met you as well. She wracked her brain through all of the interactions she had with civilians that day but her mind was so preoccupied that she barely paid attention to any of the faces she saved. And that was three years ago.

She ran your number through her database then.

The coincidence or possible lack thereof was enough to deter her from whatever fantasy she’d begun to create about you. You could be a spy, or hydra, or-

Her laptop dinged with the results but she kept her eyes trained on your message, too afraid to look at the screen and be met with a harsh reality she’s so used to. Every time she’s close to having something nice- something for herself, it all comes crashing down.

She willed her head to lift, eyes expectant and walls reforming no matter what answer she faced.

You were clear. A small green check mark stares back up at her along with a line of words in italics reading

No Major or Minor offenses committed

You had a clean record. Instinctively she moved her cursor to the photos option, a habit she picked up from needing to identify targets. It took everything in her not to click on the tab and see what kind of person you were. If you threw a big glittery birthday party every year or if you prefer a quiet celebration. If you were the kind of person to post pictures of your food, or if you had a strange hobby that nobody does anymore. But you weren’t a target. And that very habit is precisely why she shouldn’t know what you looked like. She shouldn’t be texting you at all. She was getting too invested. Too close.

Nat shut her laptop and began changing into her workout clothes. Maybe a three-hour workout would clear her mind of all of this. Of you.

Halfway into her workout, Nat’s phone rings with a notification

She decided to at least try to coerce the interaction out of you

Y/n🍦:

Nat🔪:

Lucky you, I heard she’s pretty

What was it like meeting her? Did she say anything?

Y/n🍦:

Woah you a fan or something?

Nat🔪:

You could say that

Y/n🍦:

Cryptic.

Anyway-

Yeah, she was pretty

Which really isn’t fair because she had just been fighting off aliens and she had scratches and stuff but she was still gorgeous

Nat🔪:

What happened?

-When you met her

Y/n🍦:

She flew down from the sky and picked me

up bridal style and then took me out to dinner

Nat🔪:

Ha ha.

Does that sound like something she’d do?

Y/n🍦:

Yes. 100%

It really happened to me I swear.

Nat🔪:

You swear? Really?

Y/n🍦:

Yes 😎

Nat🔪:

Swear on your duck socks.

Y/n🍦:

>:(

This is not fair.

Nat🔪:

Have you tried giving up?

I heard it’s great for your health.

Y/n🍦:

Well why would I tell a stranger my most traumatic memory?

So maybe she was still a little salty after last night's “stranger” comment.

Nat🔪:

Point taken.

Is there any way I can make it up to you?

Y/n🍦:

Yes 🥰

You can send me pictures of the front

And back of your credit card 🙂

Nat🔪:

Any other way?

Y/n🍦:

Copious amounts of groveling?

Nat🔪:

And how do you expect me to do that exactly?

Y/n🍦:

By sending me very sorry pictures

Of the front and back of your credit card :(

Nat🔪:

I can send you pictures of someone

else’s credit card?

Y/n🍦:

That’s…concerning and yet SO tempting

Nat🔪:

Well?

Y/n🍦:

I feel like you’d use your FBI privileges to hunt me down

and arrest me if I did that

Nat🔪:

No promises ;)

That does sound like a fun time.

Y/n🍦:

A simple apology will do Natalyn

Nat🔪:

That’s not-

Nevermind.

I am sorry for calling us strangers, Y/n

I suppose we’re not strangers since you know the color of

My pajama pants

Y/n🍦:

And your bed sheets

;)

Nat🔪:

Yes… And that.

Y/n🍦:

We’re practically at sleepover level besties

Nat🔪:

Are we?

Y/n🍦:

OkAy strap in for the trauma babes

Grab some popcorn

Nat🔪:

That’s not a bad idea-

Y/n🍦:

Nope it’s too late here I go-

Pt.6

Y/n is me, I am Y/n ~ Starry

------

Taglist:

@romanoffsgal @natsxwife @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @moistblobfish

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happiness-of-the-pursuit · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday

I've gotten really behind on these because, frankly, I haven't had the energy to cultivate a post between writing and ask games and winter weather. But I've been doing a ton of writing across all of my WIPs, so I figure I should share some of that.

Enjoy this never-before-seen snippet from Seahorse Dad Henry (if you don't know, that's the name for a pregnant trans man)—recently had a break through in this one because I decided to make it dual POV:

“Right,” Pez says, from the other end of the line. “Well, it seems there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.” “Yeah,” Alex says. “I thought he didn’t want to see me again.” “Quite the opposite,” Pez muses, before his voice grows serious. “Unfortunately, my liege, this isn’t actually a simple housecall to hunt you down and castrate you, as much fun as that sounded a mere half-hour ago.” “That’s a relief,” Alex says, voice dry. “What’s up?” “Well, frankly, quite a bit. But, it’s also not my place to tell you,” Pez answers cryptically. “It also wasn’t totally my place to hunt you down, but I used my best friend rights and overstepped. And, if I may, I think I was quite right to do so in this case.” “Sure,” Alex says, mostly for something to say. Pez sighs. “You need to talk to Haz. I’m going to send you his number, now, alright? You better fucking use it this time around, otherwise that threat from earlier’s going to be a promise.” “Jesus fuck. Alright. I’ll do it,” Alex replies defensively. Thinks for a moment, going over the conversation in his mind before he decides to make a joke. “I won’t even make you beg,” he adds with a grin. Pez lets out a surprised, delighted laugh. “Oh, Alexander, babes. Between the two of us, you would absolutely be the one getting on your knees for me. Fortunately for you, though, your sister’s much more to my taste.”

Tags below the cut :)

Thanks you to tags for this week from @kiwiana-writes @heybuddy-drabbles @ships-to-sail @getmehighonmagic @littlemisskittentoes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @suseagull04!! I missed a whole bunch from Sunday and Wednesday last week and I will tag y'all back below :)

Tagging people who tagged me (I was not ignoring y'all I swear) and a few of the other mutuals: @affectionatelyrs @inexplicablymine @inekepp @xthelastknownsurvivorx @firenati0n @wordsofhoneydew @songliili @nocoastposts @leojfitz @anincompletelist @leaves-of-laurelin @zwiazdziarka @14carrotghoul @user-anakin @read-and-write- :)

#rwrb fanfic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #rwrb #fanfiction #alex claremont diaz #rwrb fandom #henry fox mountchristen windsor #pez okonjo #rwrb wips #rwrb wip wednesday #wip wednesday #rwrb fic #rwrb wip #WIP: seahorse dad henry #happinessofthepursuit writes

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moonlight-blue-rose · 3 months

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Continuing with my screaming for the 1863rd round, so SPOILERS + this one is a little long

Ch 288:

Kdj petting yjh's head ahhhhesophjeapgsh

Good, it's the least he deserved after kdj broke his spirit in the last chapter

And Gabriel being reminded of herself and Uriel?? Pls tell me more, I'm listening

Pffff, I didn't expect this XD yjh completely obediently eating the soil lmaoooooo

Oh, but you don’t have the heart to kill your favourite protagonist, do you? You don’t have the heart to kill the person you’ve come to know and love

*vibrating in my seat* *sees the next chapter* awwwww it was just knw

Ch 290:

Han Sooyoung my queeeeeeeeennnnn

Doksoo’s back and forth is fun as always

Uriel, my love! I wasn’t expecting her to appear ahhhhhhh

Ch 291:

Ohhh, is this what the Forth Wall did? Giving flashes of memories to yjh? Sneaky sneaky if that is true.

But!!! Yjh saying Uriel's name softly, "like a child first learning to speak"... ahhhhhhh them!!!

Ch 292:

NOOOOOOOOOO I didn’t expect to be crying for both yjh and Uriel in this arc, you can’t do this ;-;

And oh sweetie… A world where Uriel isn’t a friend is so strange after spending so much time with the 3rd round Uriel.

1863rd hsy’s 'Predictive Plagiarism' sounds really interesting. And combined with her Avatar ability, she sure is terrifying

Once again I can hear my heart shattering. A world in which the ending is possible without sacrifices. Except one. One single sacrifice that nobody of this world would mourn. Only the original protagonist and no one else (Yoo Mia isn't here. She is gone, isn't she ;-;). I’m just (╥╯^╰╥) 1863rd hsy may not need yjh to reach the end but I want him to. Can’t you let him get away with it, at least once? Can’t he too, reach the end with everyone else? But even if he does, will it be worth it? In a world he has no one by his side, in a world he isn’t wanted? Oh Yoo Joonghyuk…

Hsy’s last words in this chapter feel so final, so unforgiving. The only feeling they induce is quiet despair (it wasn’t supposed to end like that)

Ch 293:

YES TELL HER SWEETIE

Okay, not the time for this but six-winged kdj sounds so hot…

Kim Dokja saved her,,,, It’s not his Uriel. Her fury against Yoo Joonghyuk is justified, he said,,, And yet, he didn’t have the heart to let her die… I’m just *ugly sobbing noises* (╥╯^╰╥)

Ahhh being surrounded by the people who look exactly like his colleagues, friends, and yet standing amidst strangers. It’s such a lonely feeling, the 1863rd round. I wonder, is this how yjh has always felt each regression?

Kim Dokja sounds so tired here. “What’s new about this story”, you wonder as you gaze at the broken protagonist. What’s so different about this world, when in the end, it ends the same. Someone has to die for everyone else to reach the end. But that’s the same as every other round, isn’t it? (╥╯^╰╥)

“They could never be the original” – I’m dying oahgsohsapoegg KIM DOKJAAAAAAA

The original always holds a special place in a person’s heart… Maybe they don’t like the way the story was handled or the way it ended or some of the characters’ actions… Maybe they liked a lot of things and disliked an equal amount of them… But still, it’s the original. It’s the thing you fell in love with, the thing that gave you something to hold on to, something to cherish… Of course a reproduction could never surpass the original...

I can’t believe that he’s wormed his way into their group already… Actually, no. I can believe that. It’s Kim Dokja after all XD

He fought all alone,,,,

*Shaking 1863 hsy upside down* What do you mean he promised to die! What do you meannnnnn

TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN BY THAT YOU CRYPTIC BASTARDS-

Ch 294

wheeze Poor lhs

He’s thinking about his kids!!! He wants to go back, even if he doesn’t admit it ;-;

Look at him praising yjh even now awwww

…. Kim Dokja… He really should stop being so mean with knw, poor guy

I’m having too many emotions rn helloooo. They are his friends! He cares! He wants to go back!!!! Ahhhh

Oh no. Oh no. I have one (1) fear

*screams into the void* I shouldn’t read this while sober *I say and drink a whole cup of tea ‘cause I’m sick rn* Honestly though, this part... Kim Dokja's desperation, effort, love, his resolution... I think this part will stay with me for a long long time...

It's just… this whole part to the end of the chapter. Kim Dokja tried. He tried so hard. He gave his best. He knows how this story is supposed to end. And once again, just like with 41st sys, he tried his best. He tried to find a way to change the ending. I love him so much. God, I love him so much (╥╯^╰╥)

“It was an effort that perhaps no one would understand” *screams* *insert crying gif here*

ALSO ALSO, KDJ’S EYES BEING COMPARED TO STARS… AHHHHH

Yoo Joonghyuk listened. He listened. I can’t even explain how much this means to me, nor the way my heart is shattered on the floor right now (╥╯^╰╥) It was a story he didn’t know. It was a story written by someone who wished, from the bottom of his heart, for Yoo Joonghyuk’s happiness ahhhhhhhhh

This arc will be the death of me ahhhhh

#orv #orv spoilers #moon reacts to orv #kim dokja #1863rd round spoilers #i didn't expect the end of chapter 294 to hit me so hard #how am I supposed to go to my exam tomorrow and function as a normal human being when they say #that a quiet resolution burned in Kim Dokja's eyes and his back was weary as he gradually fell asleep while looking for a way to save yjh??

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greazyfloz · 1 year

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Bend Til We Break - Chapter 5

Chapter (1) (2) (3) (4)

Smut

The next day all I can think about is what Hanna had to tell me last night. Was it about Quinn? It had to be. Why wouldn’t she tell me after I brought up Quinn? Should I even question it? What if it’s nothing? I shake the thoughts and go back to work.

After work as I walk to my car I finally convince myself to ask her. If it’s nothing, it’s nothing but at least I’ll know why she distanced herself from our friendship. I shoot her a quick text and she answers quickly before I get to me car.

Y/n: Hey! What did you want to tell me last night?

Hanna: Hey

Hanna: honestly, I made it sound worse than it seemed. Promise it is nothing! 💜

Y/n: call me, I don’t believe you

I texted her back before driving home. She finally called me while I was parking into my spot in my apartment's parking garage. I turn my car off once parked and answer the call. “Hey” I speak through the phone.

“Hi” Hanna says, “I promise you it really isn’t anything”

“Well you wouldn’t have said anything, please, is it about Quinn?”

“Not really, kinda. I was just going to say that- remember last summer when I was hooking up with Josh?” she says and I hum, “Well, I became closer with Quinn and it became hard to be friends with both of you because I felt like being around him was betraying you?”

“I mean I kinda figured Quinn would be there if you were hanging out with Josh in Ann Arbor… Why didn’t you just tell me last night?”

“Well I didn’t want to rub in that I was in communication with Quinn all last summer while- I guess you guys are in a rough patch” she explains, deep down I don’t believe her but I don’t have the energy to push further.

“So, you and Josh?” I say trying to change the conversation

“Short lived… Again” she chuckles through the phone

“Not again?! What happened?”

“Another girl on his mind” she says

We continue to catch up as I make my way up to my apartment. Once I reach my apartment I tell her I have to go, and that’s when she randomly brought up Quinn.

“Okay well I am just getting home now, but call me whenever. I missed talking to you” I say

“Okay, sure, but Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t take Quinn back. I promise you are better off without him”

“What do you mean?” I say pausing in the front entrance of my apartment

“He just doesn’t miss you like you missed him” she says, “don’t look to closely into it Y/n, just take my advice”

“I mean that’s pretty cryptic, elaborate please”

“Josh would tell me stuff that’s all”

“Okay then, well I better get going” I say and we say our goodbyes before I throw in a random microwave dinner for supper.

I bring my dinner over to the tv and turn it on to see the Canucks playing the Jets tonight. I decided to keep it until I was done eating, but ended up watching the whole game. Quinn played horrible. The team lost 7-3 and Quinn was on for 4 goals, 2 of them being turnovers. 1 of the goals he wasn’t on for he was in the penalty box, serving a stupid penalty.

I continued my normal daily routine of work, home, cooking, maybe gym, maybe go out with some friends, maybe watch a canucks game for the next week or so. I muted Quinn so his texts weren’t giving me any notifications and the only time I allowed myself to read through them was at night.

It has now been a week since I last spoke to Quinn in person, so seeing him at my door when I arrived home from work was definitely a surprise. “How do you even get into the building” I ask him rolling my eyes as he turns around to see me coming the other direction down the hall.

“Can we talk?” he says ignoring my question and I put my key in the lock on my door.

“About?”

“I broke up with Kaitlin” he says. So Kaitlin was her name I think to myself as the lock pops and I turn the nob to my front door pushing it open. I walk in without answering him. And he follows me in, “I broke up with her as soon as I got home that night”.

“I want to- I wanted to be the only one Quinn, not the other women” I say walking into my kitchen as Quinn follows behind me and I turn to look at him as he speaks.

“You weren’t the other women. She was just a placeholder when I got lonely. I only ever wanted you.” Quinn says to me as I bite the inside of my cheek before nodding.

“You could have had me” I say, shaking my head thinking about the time I waited for him to just call or text me or something, “I wanted you for so long, and you can’t stand that I’m finally over it. I am finally moving on” I say tears stinging my eyes

“I want you, that’s all I want. I won't be able to get you off my mind”

“I’m sorry Quinn, but I can’t do this anymore” I say looking down at my feet and I hear Quinn shuffle closer to me

“One last kiss, then I guess I am gone” he says resting his hand on my shoulder. I look up and look into his brown eyes and I’m lost as he leans in a little closer and I cave.

Our lips meet and the kiss becomes so in sync as it get deeper and deeper. We begin making out before Quinn lifts me up taking me to the bedroom.

Once in the bedroom I slide down his body and onto my feet instantly taking my shirt off as he does the same. We quickly undress ourselves fully before engulfing in each other's arms to continue to make out, while waltzing over to the bed. I sit down on the edge of the bed and Quinn continues making out with me. He lifts me up a bit so he could comfortably get on top of me. He begins kissing down my neck as he fumbles around trying to line himself up with my entrance before slowly sliding himself in.

He continues to thrust but they are softer so he was able to continue to lean down and kiss my neck. “Quinn” I breathe out a moan. He continues thrusting inside of me before he pulls himself out and goes to the bathroom to finish.

I hear the bathtub water start to flow, so I make myself over to the bathroom. Quinn looks over at me once I get to the frame and gives me a soft slime before pulling me into the bathroom with him. I wrap my arms around him and he does the same. We sit there without saying a word just in each others arms until Quinn pulls away to stop the water. He then holds his hand out for me to take, “coming in” he asks and I take his hand.

I sit between his legs in the tub as Quinn lays back with his eyes shut. I look up at him, “what are you thinking about?” I ask him.

“You” he says, sending shivers through my body. Then it hits me, he shouldn’t still be here. I sit in his arms though not sure if I want him to leave yet or not, “You okay?” he asks me, “you’re tense”.

“I just- I- Sex isn’t going to fix all of our problems Quinn” i say and he sighs

“I know, I really meant just a kiss. I couldn’t leave though. I am so, so, so in love with you it hurts” he says. I breathe in and pull away from his chest so I can stand up and get out of the bathtub. I leave Quinn there grabbing a towel and going into the bedroom. Quinn soon follows looking at me questionably.

“Last chance” I say walking towards him, “This is your very last chance!” Quinn smiles at me, and my serious expression softens slightly.

“Okay” he says

“Okay” I say and he presses his lips to mine suddenly then pulls apart

“Can I call you my girlfriend again then?” Quinn asks taking me aback

“How do I know you are serious?”

“Move in with me”

#quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #nhl writing #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic

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lopsicle · 8 months

Note

You there, whip me up some lee Gus

I feel bad j haven’t written anything in a while, and this ask is months old so I’m gonna speedrun a fic real quick!

(Also I promise I’m working on tktober and the spiderluz fic, I haven’t forgotten-)

Classroom Confessions

Fandom: The Owl House

Pairing: Lee Gus and Ler Willow (platonic ofc)

This is not proof read

Description: Willow is more open about liking tickling, Gus needs some encouragement.

‘But, how do you just come out and say it like that?!’ Gus exclaimed, in a tone that was more shocked then anything. The illusionist boy was sitting on one of the wooden desks, in one of Hexside’s many empty classrooms during lunch. Well, obviously not totally empty.

‘Because it’s not that embarrassing to talk about it, not with my best friend, it’s easy to say it to you!’

Willow said, being a lot more cheery then her friend, mainly because they were talking about a dreaded subject matter. Tickling. Normally, whenever they discussed it, Gus could barely bring himself to say the phrase ‘T-word,’ but Willow could say it no problem, even admitting that she liked it. Today was no different however, despite how much they talked about it, the two students were usually too flustered to try and tickling each other, Titan forbid they ask for it, that would be too needy or too flustering. No, no, they’d rather silently pray for one instance of tickling to occur, even just a poke, but today was a little different.

The only reason it was, is because Gus needed help. Tickling was just so…childish and he didn’t want people to see him that way, he didn’t want to be looked down upon for being the youngest. Though, Willow of course, saw it differently. Mainly because she was in a similar situation when she was forced into the abomination track, even though she loved plant magic so much, the witch was forced to shut away that part of herself for so, so long before she got to switch tracks. Knowing how bad something like that felt, even if tickling wasn’t as significant, she couldn’t just let her friend suffer in silence.

‘Sounds like you just needed some encouragement!’

Willow cryptically smiled as Gus turned to her, tilting his head as he crossed his ankles. The young witch had a puzzled look on his face until he met his friends gaze, noticing her smirk and a mischievous glint in her eyes, practically twinkling behind her glasses.

‘Ah, no, no, it’s fine, we can just go back out to lunch now and-Willow!!’

Gus teetered out loudly as his best friend’s arm wrapped around his waistline, pulling him closer to which he didn’t fight back at all. Gus squirmed and wriggled a bit as Willow pulled him onto his lap, but not enough to get away, perfectly content as he curled his knees to chest, leaving his arms dangling defensively at his sides.

‘Oh hush, you know you want this, and I’m not gonna torture you be making you ask, the least you can do is hold your arms up for me!’

She called him out, in a tone playful enough to bring splashes of colours to his cheeks, while his lips furrowed together. After playing with his fingers for a couple seconds, Gus slowly raised his arms above his head, even lowering his legs so he was more comfortably sitting in Willow’s lap.

‘Thank you!’

She chirped at him, causing him to feel ever so more comfortable in this position. Until five nails came scribbling against his stomach, moving so fast that he had no time to brace himself.

‘A-AHAHAHAH TIHAHATAN, WIHAHAHAHALLOW!!’

Gus screamed, kicking his feet off the side of the desk as he thrusted himself around from side to side, trying, but not really trying to get away from her hand. As quickly as he relaxed, he immediately curled up against, wrapping his body around her arms like a koala. It was a really cute sight to see! One of his hands gripped the side of his face, which just had a wide, goofy, yet also pleased smile brought onto it. His eyes remained squeezed shut, just looking at Willow’s hands made him feel more leeish (and he totally isn’t saying that because it’s hard to admit your in a Lee mood, he just thinks it sounds cooler, definitely).

‘Oh, what was that, little lee? I couldn’t hear you over all your laughing!’

Willow smiled down at him, sweetly and unassumingly as any further attempts for Gus to speak and retaliate just got lost within his stutters and laughter. The poor witch’s face was getting so red, you could practically see steam coming out of his ears as he gave up trying to speak or deny the tickles, just sitting there limp with his arms stiff above his head. Other then occasionally kicking her leg out whenever Willow’s nail slipped against a really bad spot on his tummy, or suddenly squeezed at his sides and hips a couple times just to catch him off guard.

‘WI- *snort* WIHAHAHAAHAHAHAHLLOW!!!’

The boy laughed loudly, tapping his hand against Willow’s shoulder repeatedly, uncontrollably to signal that he’d had enough. The tickling came to a quick halt, with only a couple light scratches to tease Gus along with something gentle rubs to usher away any remaining phantom tickles.

‘There we go, next time, don’t be so shy about asking me, okay? It’s really not gonna bother me at all!’

The witch explained sweetly, gently patting her friends as the words soaked into his brain, bringing a sense of calm to his otherwise anxious, worrying mind when it came to this subject.

‘M-mhm,’

He managed to nod in agreement, taking a couple more minutes to regain his breath before hopping off her lap with a smile, looking ever so meek while he looked up at her, fidgeting with his hands.

‘Thanks you, for that, by the way..’

Gus forced out, barely audible, but still audible. It was a start, which Willow returned with a sweet, genuine smile.

‘Like I said, no problem!’

——

Being so fr, I only wrote this because I wanted to write something over the summer holidays! Ill write more in tickle tober, and answer requests along the way! Hope you enjoyed!

#sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle content #the owl house #toh #sfw tickle #toh tickle #lee! gus #lee gus #ticklish Gud #ler willow #ler! willow

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scorpiongrassfield · 6 months

Text

You Have To Tell Him

Start | Prev

It just doesn’t seem right not to say something about it.

The question now is how do you break it to him gently.

Pat has said you’re not very good at this sort of thing, and you certainly feel like you aren’t.

But you know Pat won’t help you with this one, so here you go.

“So… The connection you share with the shadow is a little. Different,” you hedge.

“Oh?”

“We, or I, I guess, think that the shadow might have… possessed you. Just a little bit,” you say.

A glance at Pat reveals that they’re covering their face with a hand, head tilted down slightly.

“How does one get possessed ‘just a little bit’?” Theo asks, looking more intrigued than anything.

“You aren’t possessed all the time. And it doesn’t stay for long. Just long enough to drop some cryptic advice or ask us to be careful,” you explain.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Pat says.

“Ah. Sorry. I’m just. Not really feeling my emotions very well at the moment,” Theo says, looking apologetic.

“That's not something you need to apologize for,” Pat assures him.

“Oh. Okay, thank you,” Theo says, returning to his drawing.

“How sure are you that the shadow is not harming me?” he asks after a beat.

“Pretty sure,” you say.

“Why?”

You pause. You aren’t really entirely sure why.

“It… kind of reminds me of you, in some ways. I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of the possession or not, but… yeah. You seem like similar people. That and it’s supposed to be a guardian, supposed to protect people. I can’t imagine it would hurt you,” you eventually explain.

“Oh, how are we similar?”

Well they both have this sense of lost helplessness about them when they’re stressed. But you’re pretty sure that would be rude to say.

“It sounds like you do when Pat isn’t around,” you eventually decide on.

Theo looks like a deer in headlights.

Pat’s got an eyebrow raised. “Does he act different when I’m not around?” Then they pause. “Sorry it’s rude to talk about you like that right in front of you. You act different when I’m not around?”

Theo is not partially hiding behind the sketchbook, which does not work well because it is very small.

“Well. I… Yes I suppose so. It’s just that you’re very um… You’re very cool. And that makes me a little nervous, I suppose,” Theo manages to say eventually.

“Aw, that’s sweet. I promise I don’t bite though, kid,” Pat says, coming to give Theo a pat on the shoulder.

“You don’t get nervous around me, though?” you ask.

Theo shakes his head, “Not as much, no. Not because I don’t think you’re cool, though I think maybe cu- uh actually no I’m not saying that. But, um, you just put me at ease somehow. It’s like we’re old friends who have known each other for a long time, sometimes,” he fumbles to explain.

Your stomach sinks. You refuse to allow that to sound familiar. You’re not thinking about it right now.

“You’re really not scared about the possibility of being possessed?” Pat prods.

Theo shrugs. “I… think I would prefer it if he asked first, but if we’re sure he hasn’t done anything untowards… what’s a small favor to my fellow ghost here and there?”

Pat is looking at Theo like there's something wrong with him, but Theo has his eyes fixed firmly on the paper of the sketchbook, so he does not seem to notice.

That all went better than you thought it would.

You put connections between Theo and the shadow up on the board.

“There’s also another connection between Theo and all this,” Pat says as they approach the board.

“What’s that?” Theo asks.

Concrete jumps up onto the arm of his chair and he readjusts so the cat can sit on his lap.

“Well, according to my sources, your house exists in what may either be some weird parallel world, or someone else’s soul,” Pat explains.

They fish your drawing of the cabin out of the pile of papers and pin it up, connecting it to everyone except themself.

“Their soul…” Theo echoes.

“Speaking of souls, I don’t know if you know this, Theo, but your body isn’t actually here right now. It’s more of a projection of your soul than anything,” Pat says.

“Is that so?” Theo asks. He’s focused on petting Concrete.

“It is,” Pat confirms.

There’s a strange tension in the air. You can’t quite place the cause though.

“The cabin in the woods is strange. It looks like this one on the outside, but the inside can get kind of twisted. Also…” you trail off.

“Also?” Pat prompts.

“Sometimes Ametrine manages to get control of it somehow? I’m not sure what triggers it but sometimes the cabin… bites me,” you say.

“Really…?” Pat says, half-disbelieving.

You nod.

“Um. I’ve finished the portrait,” Theo says, pulling your attention to him.

“Would either of you like to come take it from me? I don’t want to disturb Concrete,” he says after another moment.

Concrete is purring heavily, eyes closed in contentment.

“Yeah that’s reasonable,” Pat says. They take the sketchbook from Theo and tear the sketch out along the perforation.

It’s a nice drawing. His style really is pretty. And he managed to catch you looking shy somehow.

Pat pins it up on the board in the spot they designated.

“Very nice work Theo,” Pat praises.

“Oh. Thank you,” Theo says.

It feels so strange, looking at an image of yourself. You don’t like it.

“So,” Pat says, drawing your and Theo’s attention.

“This seems like a good time to solve one of our mysteries. Sylv here has been traveling into someone’s soul on and off lately,” they explain.

“And it’s not my own, probably,” you add.

Pat nods.

“And whoever’s soul this is happens to have your house inside it. And the cell phone that fell out of your pocket when you got pushed. And a mysterious shadow that bares some resemblance to you,” they explain.

And oh. You think you see where Pat is going with this…

“Well. I suppose that would imply that this shadow has some significant connection to me then, yes,” Theo agrees.

“I think I know what’s going on,” you say.

Pat doesn’t look surprised.

Theo also seems remarkably calm.

What will you say?

#choose your own adventure #interactive fiction #writeblr #original writing

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thesinglesjukebox · 18 days

Text

FUTURE & METRO BOOMIN FT. KENDRICK LAMAR - "LIKE THAT"

youtube

A Drake diss track provides our highest controversy of the day; it truly is April 1...

[5.40]

Andrew Karpan: “Like That” is probably the best of the varied anti-Drizzy discography that I’ve encountered so far; the flipped, forgotten Rodney-O record emerging out of the dust of a minor E-40 posse cut into a throbbing, pulsing menace that owns its own side of the street, untouched. Kendrick, like Pusha-T and then Meek Mill before him, finds inside Drake’s bloated success and notorious mediocrity a melancholy yearning to belong, which frankly confuses him. But this is, of course, why the devout listen to Drake in the first place. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: Not the second coming of Big Sean's "Control" that I thought it was upon first listen; the Michael Jackson line is doing most of the heavy lifting as far as pure shock and awe goes. The Verse is more of an announcement of hostilities than a full engagement on the battlefield, sounding like an intended sneak diss that turned less sneaky after a few hard drinks. The time and place of its delivery matter almost as much as the content: "Wait, Kendrick's on this thing? Can he say that about Drake on a Future album? How did Melle Mel get dragged into this?!" By design, it'll never again hit as hard as it did the first time, but the jolt of that initial impact stays imprinted in your brain like memory foam. Credit to Future for humbly recognizing his limited role on this stage (despite being as influential as any rapper mentioned here) and to Metro for being good at sample clearance, both much unlike Big Sean on “Control.” [8]

Alfred Soto: "I still got PTSD," Kendrick rasps. Could've fooled me. He responds to the competition with zeal -- from Future to Eazy-E. The first half sticks to Future's tried-and-true. [7]

TA Inskeep: I can't, and won't, with Future's gun-glorifying, misogynist lyrics. And Metro's Barry White-sampling track is just lazy. [0]

Isabel Cole: Shrooms are really having their moment in the zeitgeist, huh? I kind of like the inclusion of a whistle done by someone who can only whistle poorly, if only because you don't hear that every day. The dull, droning rest of it, though, feels like something I've heard before, and I didn't care for it the first several times, either. [2]

Katherine St. Asaph: Doomy, like background music for surveying the world from a high perch. Kendrick just overkills Drake and everything else. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The thrills of the Kendrick verse dimish with every listen – perhaps I've grown cynical (or just counterintuitive), but his performance last year on “The Hillbillies” (loose, fun, hanging out with his cousin) was a better demonstration of the appeal of latter-day Kendrick than this ceremonial airing of grievances, at once impressive and a little tedious the same way watching someone solve a cryptic crossword is. Future and Metro are exquisite hosts, though. The lifted synths and chants from the class of '87-'88 lend the whole affair a charming old revivalist sensibility, while Future, a man of infinite regress into his own worst impulses, sounds gleeful. He whistles! Why isn’t that the story rather than warmed-over beef? [7]

Ian Mathers: Imagine if the fierceness of the Kendrick verse (the only reason we're here, right?) had inspired Future to match it even remotely. I don't mind his sleepy affect most of the time, but it doesn't really match here; the bit at the fade where he perks up is actually promising in comparison. Good production (so much so it basically gets a verse!), good ft., but Future drags it down. [6]

Oliver Maier: A heap of irritating choices, bafflingly put together even before you get to the part where it fades out as Future is still rapping. [3]

Nortey Dowuona: The discovery of Kendrick Lamar’s incredible ability is as unsurprising as it is predictable -- there hasn’t been another figure blessed with either the talent or critical armor to take his place in the eyes of the larger public who don’t read good music writing and let YouTubers tell them what music to like -- but the verse is at least good. It picks up the jengabuilt flows of Detroit/Bay Area rap and his long time record of disrespecting his peers for kicks and clout and actually has the bar “my temperament bipolar, I choose violence” comfortably lodged somewhere towards the beginning. It’s telling that Future has another verse on the song yet chooses to let Metro place it after a shrieking riff under some heavy kicks, then fade it out, almost as if the point had been made. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#future #metro boomin #kendrick lamar #music #hip-hop #rap #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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ulircursed · 1 year

Text

for forever

Patrol your companions’ quarters [Max 4 muses per thread] - Restore 1HP to houses per post - Can now talk to Mairenn during this task

Even looking still as death, Edain’s hands are still warm when he grasps them.

That unchanging fact keeps Andrei’s anxiety at bay as the weeks bleed into one another without a single sign that their allies are close to waking up, while the outside world around them is met with one trouble after another. At the very least, inexplicable injuries notwithstanding, all of their allies are still breathing, though that is small comfort given the circumstances. Despite making a conscious effort to spread his patrolling among the four houses in somewhat equal measure, he cannot help but return to this house, this room, more often than any other.

(He’d promised to try and keep her safe.)

And it is here that he stands again, after yet another night of exhausting battle, after the chief had seen them making their usual patrols to check on their companions (they weren’t wounded by outside forces last time; what could they possibly do against a power beyond their reach?) and made a cryptic offer, one that loops endlessly in his mind, even now.

Be with them forever, peacefully and happily, in a world free of pain...

...Why wouldn’t he want that? A world without all this pain and bloodshed. A world with Lady Sister, and Father and Edain, and whomever else each of them would choose to complete their family, without a single one lost. A world where conspiracy and the greed for power never touched any part of Grannvale.

A world where he’d never had the choice to tear his family apart.

“You’d want it too, wouldn’t you, Sister?” Andrei asks the sleeping figure before him, doing nothing to hide his desperate, anguished expression in a room without waking, judging eyes. His hand trembles in hers. “Even if it’s only a dream... If it’s one where nothing had gone wrong... Wouldn’t we all be happier for it?”

He isn’t sure how long he stands there in silence, as though awaiting, begging for an answer, before he startles at the sound of the door behind him being pushed open. Hastily withdrawing his hand, Andrei turns, blinking at the familiar face that appears through the entrance.

“Ah... Lady Caeda,” he greets, not quite meeting her gaze, for fear his thoughts might be laid entirely bare to anyone who sees him, “You— you are here on patrol as well, I take it?”

@arcaeda

#➵ caeda 03 #arcaeda #KEguard2023 #it's something i've kind of been doing semi-consciously over the entire course of our interactions #but i feel like while andrei puts on formal airs with most people and talks in a somewhat affected grammar as a result #it's with edain that he speaks the most casually grammar-wise #esp. when he's not trying to put psychological distance between them #(which to be fair he does a lot)

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shoichee · 2 years

Text

Sneak Peek

To apologize my hectic schedule and not fulfilling my promise(?) of releasing that Kise enemies-to-lovers!/soulmate!/manga kise!au fic series for MONTHS, here's a little ~preview~ of the first chapter. I literally have 38 damn pages of this WIP and it's only in chapter FIVE in my docs and not even half way through this plot??? I hate myself LMAO I PROMISE YALL I DID NOT DITCH THIS PROJECT

current 🏷: @nadav-ii @carinacassiopeiae @kendrex13 @roppongiperfume @thesongstressayre @kimigiri09 @takatul @evierena @one-one-one-one

A/N: The brunette that flirted with Haizaki is nameless, so I just named her Hana. Yeah, no creativity on my end, anyways--

[Kise x fem!Reader]

First Section:

Addressed to Kise Ryōta:

You will meet your soulmate in a place where there are many other people. You will have your first real encounter with them in a place where you always spend your time through the years. Be careful to keep track of where you are at all times. Your soulmate is always with company, and they are never lonely. You must be careful to not actively seek out for your fated encounter, for you’ll certainly miss them. You must remain committed and seek out things that keep you steady and motivated. Only then is it possible for your soulmate to come to you instead.

Kise would like to think he’s a romantic at heart—cheesy guy even, but on the other hand, he actively scoffs at the letter’s content… that he’s had memorized for years now. He has no choice on the matter of whether or not he’ll remember it. Not when his “letter” was just a measly paragraph. He remembered being awfully jealous and whiny of his past classmates bringing their 2-page letter to class to show off and getting the “ooh’s” and “ah’s” from everyone else. That was one sure-fire way to distinguish yourself from the crowd and make a name for yourself. Over the years, Kise’s learned that it would become a separate type of “popularity hierarchy,” whereas those with the most elaborate, mysterious, or unique soulmate letters are the ones at the top of the social ladder. Bonus points if it somehow involves all three factors.

———

Second Section:

It’s utterly stupid. Who does this sender think they are to decide how Kise gets to live his life? What type of sadistic game were they playing by forcing the other soulmate to have the other half of the information, which would be, no doubt, just as annoyingly cryptic?

He stopped denying all the rumors of a girl claiming to be his soulmate; for every rumor he clarified and quashed during his naive youth, three more sprung up the next week. Ignoring them sounds counterintuitive, but when he allows the many rumors and girls to multiply and fester, the number of annoyances are still relatively the same: nearly infinite.

Such has become the life of Kise Ryōta.

———

Third Section:

He walks with such controlled anger brewing within him that he almost didn’t notice another girl walking past him. Almost.

“Hana-chan!” a voice called out. He presumes that the brunette is who the voice is looking for. “Why’d you ditch me like that? You left me with these boys all alone! You know how starved they are—They totally looked at me like a piece of meat!”

“Aish, (y/n)-chan!” He hears her annoying voice echoing behind him. He walks faster. “Don’t you know you have that charm? Can you blame them?~ I wouldn’t, hehe.”

“Mou—! Hana-chan!” You speed to Hana, completely ignoring Kise as you storm past him. “You’re mean!”

He takes a quick side glance at you before his scowl turns harsher.

Who the hell in their right mind is friends with that bitch??

“Sorry, sorry!~”

But Kise can obviously tell she isn’t sorry in the least. He’s even more pissed off when he hears you pleasantly laugh with her, completely accepting her half-assed apology.

#wip #sneak peek #knb x reader #knb x y/n #knb scenarios #knb fic #knb fics #kise x reader #knb kise #kise ryouta #kise ryota x reader #kise ryouta x reader #teiko #kaijou #soulmate au #enemies to lovers #manga kise #i know yall are deprived of manga kise so here you go

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you-have-been-frizzled · 1 year

Note

I share your hate of Forkle, but was wondering your specific reasons or an analysiss?

What ending do you think Shannon will do for him??

Sorry this is very Forkle-based...

*bops you with wrapping paper tube* no apologizing! especially if it gives me a chance to rant about fork man

i have a few lists that i will compile here, i also think that in a darker version of kotlc he could easily have been a grommer that i go into more detail here

he broke into her room while she was sleeping who knows how many times when she was a little girl

he asked Sophie to meet him (a grown man) on a island alone and when she took Keefe with her he told her she had to come in the cave with him alone

he just about left Dex for dead in the Neverseen hideout and only brought him because Sophie refused to go without him. Dex was a innocent child and wasn’t just anyones child he was a member of the collective’s child, someone who he worked with side by side for years, and he was still willing to leave him behind

Dex ended up with scars because he didn’t bring enough elixirs for him.

he thinks of Sophie as an accomplishment and doesn’t expect her to want him to think of her as anything more (Everblaze, Page 447.)

he will act very cryptic and only give out bits of information, just enough that she will look into what he was talking about then act proud and flatter her, saying things like “i underestimated you kids”when she and her friends figure out the thing he wanted her to know.

he will tell her about problems in the world making it sound horrible and hopeless, then saying this is the thing we made you to fix, but that’s your choice

he’s constantly dehumanizing her because she is the Moonlark and it’s her job to change things and this is what she was created for. going from treater like his child to a weapon at the drop of a hat

he doesn’t see her as a person he sees her as the moonlark his creation. he doesn’t see her as a child he sees her as his tool and he does care about her but in the wrong way

excludes her parents from the conversations and tells her she has control over her life, not them, like she isn’t a young teen

he told a fourteen year old that if he and the rest of collective died Sophie and her friends would take their place, not caring about what kind of pressure that would put on her. then admits to grooming Sophie and her friends to lead the Black Swan one day

he is constantly reading her mind and never lets her have her thoughts to herself, giving her no sense of privacy to the point that’s she’s close to desensitized to it at this point.but he expects her to not read other peoples minds

he put all this importance on Prentice and told a child that they where going to use her to brake into prison and almost got a child killed (they could have done that without her they have dwarves)

finds it funny to exclude Sandor from conversations that could potentially put her in danger

he calls her his moonlark. which sounds sweet until you realize that’s her project code name he’s literally calling her “my creation” aka “my weapon”

now that that’s over with on to what i think Shannon will do with him.

his brothers wanderling was mentioned to be bending over as if it was waiting for someone, i do think he’s going to get killed off.

probably in the final battle Sophie hopefully doesn’t trust him as much by then (but that’s a bit unlikely) and he sacrifices himself for her. as he’s dying he makes her promise to not let her mind break and to keep being his moonlark. her anger at his death makes her win the battle then she breaks down. his plating would probably a line something like “and he where finally where he belonged, where he wanted to be, back together with his brother” (it had be better than that im writing this at one am)

what I want to happen is

for him to slowly lose his mind over his brothers death. now he’s depressed, but that doesn’t make a lot of sense. frokle and his brother where close as any two people could possibly be without being in the same body. it make’s very little sense for him to be as sane as he is when he literally lost a part of him.

i want him to make little commets here and there that make you go “uhh that didn’t sound like a sane person” but then brush it off. as time goes on his behavior becomes erratic and unpredictable and even Sophie starts to feel uncomfortable around him at times, but she brushes it off because he just misses his brother. then i want him to have a mental breakdown in front of Oralie Sophie and Keefe. where he reveals that Oralie is her bio mom, and ends up hurting Sophie by grabbing her. when they get out of the situation Sophie is shaken and when they go back to look for him he’s gone.

#sophie foster #kotlc #kotlc forkle #mr forkle #project moonlark #thanks for the ask!#forkle hate o’clock #masked messengers #keepblr #the keeper of the lost cities #keeper of the lost cities #forkle neg

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kiruuuuu · 1 year

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Kiru's Advent Calendar, Day 14🎁

This is a Bandit/Jäger commision with which I had a BLAST, thank you so so much to yatta for allowing me to write this!! 💖I hope you all enjoy this utter filth 😊 (Rating E, smut: sounding, ~5.5k words)

It’s funny the first couple of times.

They’re doing some cooperative maintenance, playing to each other’s strengths and therefore joined at the hip for the day – Jäger excels at anything involving moving parts and Bandit shines with his intuitive understanding of electronics, so they end up crawling on the floor for a lot of the time, greasy up to their elbows, bouncing ideas back and forth before implementing the proper adjustments. Harry had asked them to look after a few drones, a car or two, the lighting in a couple places and as they don’t have much to do otherwise, they gladly get to it.

To an outsider, they must seem like well-acquainted co-workers, exchanging quips in between professional talk, respectful yet jovial. Bandit allows him to verbally meander about whichever topic comes to his mind, nodding along and posing clever questions now and then; the otherwise dubiously social operator even lets a few genuine smiles slip through which Jäger reciprocates readily. They’re efficient, fast and effective.

In truth, Jäger would like nothing more than to peel these dirty clothes off his boyfriend and leave handprints all over him. Little gets him more than the near-instant switch from serious to horny in Bandit’s expression whenever Jäger says something suggestive out of the blue (a power he uses sparingly to great effect) and he’s biting the inside of his cheek most of the day to not wield it just like that. Not when they can’t act on it yet.

Still. A man can dream.

And then a theme establishes itself quite early in the day too, a theme Jäger enjoys at first with the giddiness of a young boy who’s privy to a special secret. Twitch is the first one, appearing out of nowhere and asking inane questions while glancing at nearby Blackbeard, waiting until he’s gone to pull an actual bottle out of her backpack. “Just a quick one for the road”, she whispers, hastily whipping out two shot glasses out of nowhere as well and pouring some of the amber liquid into them.

Jäger just stares.

“You shouldn’t have”, Bandit informs her before accepting the glass with an air of ‘but it is greatly appreciated’. The two of them beam at each other as they toast and take a tiny sip. The aroma of burnt wood fills the room, strong enough Jäger can smell it from a few metres away. “Nice body. Very sweet.”

It takes him a moment to realise his lover is complimenting the booze and so he moves closer with flushed cheeks when Bandit waves at him. “What are you -”

“Try it, babe.”

Oh. So it’s like that. All of Jäger’s trepidation melts into a comfortable warmth inside at the nickname and he eagerly presses against Bandit’s side, grateful for the brief interruption of their professionalism. Because there is no way any part of this is allowed. He lets the liquid kiss his tongue and makes a face – it tastes of old wood, just like it smells, and though there is some initial sweetness, what lingers is a mouthful of bonfire.

“I’ll leave it in your locker”, promises Twitch, indicating the bottle of what must be quite expensive rum, “happy birthday.”

“You’re insane”, is Bandit’s reply, to which she just laughs as she leaves them alone again.

“Did she -” Jäger doesn’t even know what to say, he’s dumbfounded. Never before has Twitch broken absolutely any rule. “Did that actually just happen?”

And all Bandit does is down the rest of the fragrant alcohol before flashing him a grin. “Every year.”

Sledge gifts him frankly mean-looking throwing stars that are likely illegal somewhere. The shifty way the Scotsman creeps up to them, Jäger half expects him to supply Bandit with actual drugs, though his present isn’t much better. Their exchange, consisting of mumbled words, suspicious glances and cryptic phrases, reminds Jäger of bad spy films and tickles him pink to the point where he doesn’t even care that his boyfriend is now armed with dangerous weapons, it’s just all so ridiculous. Bandit has a habit of bringing out the worst in people, and on his birthday it appears to involve smuggling contraband onto Rainbow premises.

Even Blitz, straight-laced, goody two-shoes Blitz, procures a bottle of beer from somewhere and shares it with his teammates in the tool shed, all sneaky and with a visibly bad conscience. It’s adorable and the beer is excellent and the meaningful looks he receives from Bandit now and then are intoxicating, a brief diversion from work.

Only it doesn’t stop.

And after several conspiratorial meetings, Jäger’s mood shifts from endeared to miffed. After some more, he is well miffed. And by the end of the day, when Bandit already had to carry an armload of presents to his car because his locker was overflowing, Jäger is properly upset.

~*~

He did ask me to be more spontaneous, Jäger muses as he listens for the sound of the shower being turned off. Despite having just showered himself, he has every intention of getting dirty again – it’s an off-the-cuff thing, thought up while the hot water drummed down on his scalp and prepared in the few minutes it’s taking for Bandit to be done himself. They had meant for this evening to be quiet, spent in front of the TV with a few more beers and takeaway, but the sheer amount of objects they had to lug into the flat changed Jäger’s mind on that. No, Bandit doesn’t deserve a relaxing evening. He deserves something else entirely.

His anxious hovering finally comes to an end when his lover steps out into the hallway, a towel wrapped precariously around his waist and his bare chest glistening with leftover moisture Jäger briefly considers licking off. He’s delicious, unguarded and comfortable around him with a latent sexiness Jäger has never noticed about anyone else before – there’s promise in everything he does, the smirks when he’s feeling smug, the deliberation in his touches, the way his gaze trails after Jäger when he thinks nobody will notice. He’s made himself available from the start, dropped not hints but signposts and left it up to his teammate to take him up on them, something Jäger wishes he’d done sooner. He’d confused direct interest with indifference, thought anyone would do when he was the only one Bandit courted.

It feels as if everything Bandit does urges Jäger to challenge him, so that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Do you think we should order -”, is as much as Bandit gets out before Jäger kisses him, just captures his lips and wraps his arms around the steaming body. He knows Bandit is playing along, he saw the glint in his eyes as soon as Jäger moved towards him and Bandit kept speaking till the last second so the impact is more palpable, and though Jäger usually adores his boyfriend for being attentive like that, right now he wants to knock him straight out of his comfort zone instead. Or, well, at least out of the tried and tested dance they usually perform.

He feels Bandit’s lips curling against his own before opening and allowing his tongue inside, letting him take the lead and yes, that’s precisely what Jäger means: he’s allowed to lead. Regardless, making out with Bandit always feels like heaven so he savours the moment, lets the quiet purrs run down his spine and melts into the loose embrace. Bandit’s beard is still damp, brushing over sensitive skin, and the smile returns full force when Jäger’s hands drift to the edge of the towel.

“Eager, are we?”

The muttered words cause Jäger’s lips to stretch in reciprocity – Bandit has no idea. Even so, he wants to make sure: “Do you want to eat first? Are you hungry?”

A small, amused huff. “Unless I get to eat you out, not particularly.”

Alright, he can work with that. Tongues fighting over dominance, they stumble into the bedroom, both of them clinging to each other like it’d kill them to let go, and not for the first time does Jäger appreciate just how natural it feels to be with this man. For once, he ends up on top, Bandit stretching out on the duvet like a lazy cat whereas Jäger perches on him, chasing his lips to deepen their kisses and fending off exploratory hands creeping under his t-shirt. Making out with Bandit is enough for heat to pool in his midsection, especially with how well he does it, sucking and licking liberally at anything he can reach, tickling Jäger one second and making him moan in anticipation the next. Even so, he keeps curious hands at bay, eventually resorting to pinning Bandit’s wrists on the mattress. He likes the imbalance concerning their clothedness just fine.

Lacking alternatives, Bandit starts grinding his lower half against Jäger’s, nearly losing the towel in the process (not that either of them minds), grinning wider when Jäger mutters a dissatisfied stop. Bandit does not stop. “What’s with you”, he purrs instead, words silky smooth against Jäger’s lips. “Want to take control? I can suck you unconscious if you want.”

Tempting. Jäger’s half-hard dick gives a hopeful twitch at the mental image, but it’s not why he’s here. He holds Bandit’s gaze, noticing how the corners of his eyes crinkle at the tell-tale click of handcuffs. “Stop that”, he orders, referring to the slow grind of hips on hips, and possibly also the inexplicable smugness Bandit is radiating now that he’s caught on to at least part of what’s happening. Jäger seldom takes the lead and hasn’t had the guts to sneakily handcuff him to the bed before, so Bandit is glowing. His grin has reached full force now, shark-like yet dangerously charming.

“I should”, he mutters, not heeding his own advice and letting Jäger feel just how much he’s already enjoying himself, “because if you keep this up, I’ll come on my own face in less than a minute.”

Again, tempting. “Good thing I’m not gonna touch your cock for a while then.”

That backfired. Bandit is beaming at him like he hung the stars now – he did not take this as a threat but as a promise.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m not even saying anything, darling.”

“Now you’re being condescending.”

“Come here.”

Pouting, Jäger obliges nonetheless and leans down so Bandit can make up for his bratty attitude with a few toe-curling kisses, nibbling at his lower lip in appeasement until Jäger teases out a low moan by brushing a fingertip over a pierced nipple. Even like this, restrained, vulnerable and almost naked, Bandit stinks of enviable confidence. “And now, sweetheart”, he mutters against Jäger’s cheek, “you tell me what’s bothering you, I tell you that you’re being silly, and then you can finally let me fuck you.”

There’s no hiding from these attentive eyes. Jäger sighs. “It’s your birthday.”

“Really? Wow, that would explain all the presents.”

“You told me you don’t like surprises. Or gifts.”

Bandit’s good mood is unchanged. “It’s true.”

“So why wasn’t I allowed to get you anything when everyone else was?”

He shows his teeth again, as if Jäger just told an adorable anecdote of some kind. “Like I said. You’re being silly.”

“Is that all you have to say to that?”

A simple nod is the answer, delivered with contagious amusement, so he really stands no chance. He trusts Bandit to explain himself later and decides to just get on with it: he has to disillusion his boyfriend of a small yet significant detail about all this anyway. He takes a moment to drink Bandit in, just him in his entirety, the tattoos wrapping around his muscled arms and torso, the black metal adorning his nipples, the super fucking smug look -

The noise he earns when his teeth latch onto a sensitive neck right as he twists a piercing between his fingertips is music to his ears, a mix of pleasure and disbelief and yeah, they’re getting closer to where Jäger wants him. Almost as an afterthought, he rips the towel off Bandit’s body and tosses it aside, delving between legs with one hand to cradle his balls in a palm, massaging them while taking note of how Bandit’s cock jumps in response to the stimulation. They’re back in the zone with not much effort, Jäger kissing and licking his way down his lover’s chest not without teasing both nipples extensively, and once his cheek nearly touches swollen flesh, he glances up.

Bandit is following his every movement with his eyes, interest slowly taking over. When he notices the short pause, he offers a hopeful: “Please?”

“Please what?” To get into position, Jäger pushes strong legs apart and kneels between them, allowing for a lovely view. It’s rare enough he gets a proper look at Bandit, let alone naked and handcuffed.

“Please suck me off.”

He can’t help the smile stealing onto his face. If he’s honest, he could get used to having this kind of power over Bandit, it’s oddly addicting. “No”, he replies simply, grabbing the lube and pouring some in his palm, coating his fingers with it.

The look he receives is smouldering. If he’d known that refusing a plea would turn Bandit on this much, he’d have done it sooner. “Please jerk me off.”

“No”, he repeats and brushes over Bandit’s perineum, making his lover’s arousal twitch hard in realisation. There we are. Now he got it.

Instinctively, Bandit’s legs spread further before he even gets the words out, voice thick: “Oh. Fuck me, then. Please fuck me.”

Well, since he asked so nicely. Jäger slips a finger into tight heat and feels his own cock swell up at the low moan it elicits. He’s never done this before, not with Bandit, so his heart is beating a fast staccato as he feels his lover relaxing around him, allowing him in. Bandit’s eyes are closed now, focusing on the sensation no doubt, just like Jäger usually does, and he’s adventurous enough to add a second digit and slowly stretch the ring of muscle. He can’t fathom what it’ll feel like to sink into this velvety tightness yet knows he’ll have to be patient. There’s something else he’s got planned.

“Marius, I’ve been waiting forever for this”, comes mumbled encouragement, together with an upwards push of hips to force Jäger’s fingers deeper already.

“Could’ve said something sooner.” Jäger smiles at the impatient whine and peppers some kisses onto Bandit’s hipbones, steadfastly ignoring the weeping, rock-hard dick begging for attention.

“I didn’t know I needed this until now. Come on, hurry up.”

Unperturbed, Jäger starts sucking on his balls while keeping up the slow rhythm with his fingers, barely beginning to scissor them. It’s a magnificent feeling to witness Bandit open up for him, and though he knows the other man doesn’t mind a bit of pain during sex (and neither does he, for that matter), he’s not giving in to Bandit’s eagerness.

“Baby. I want you inside of me.” He graces Bandit with no more than a brief glance which already is half a mistake because his cheeks are flushed now, the nonchalance largely disappeared to make way for an earnest need that tugs at Jäger’s heartstrings. “Please. Marius, please.”

It requires all of his willpower not to comply. He can’t, not yet, instead he decides to make his boyfriend suffer a little longer. His insides feel wonderful around Jäger’s fingers, allowing him deep before clamping down in involuntary pleasure, and when he experimentally crooks his fingers to stroke over Bandit’s prostate, he’s rewarded with a choked gasp. Inconceivable that this is the first time they’re doing this, Bandit is a natural: feet impatiently brushing against Jäger’s legs in a non-verbal plea, his body beautifully responsive to any little bit of stimulation, be it a fingertip against his nipple or a mouth sucking on the inside of his thigh. All superiority has temporarily yielded to pure bliss. Jäger can’t wait to make him moan with his own dick, but, again – there’s something he wants to do.

Bandit hisses a quiet yes the second Jäger’s lips touch his shaft. They idly mouth at it before travelling upwards so he can tongue the ridge and eventually wrap his lips around the head, accompanied by vocal encouragement from his lover. But instead of deepthroating him as he normally would, Jäger presses his tongue to the slit, first flat, then he pushes inside a little.

“Marius”, Bandit mutters, sounding dazed. Jäger does it again. “Marius.”

Satisfied for the moment, Jäger pulls off and even removes his fingers to marvel at his creation: Bandit’s usually intense gaze has lost some of its focus though it doesn’t render him any less overpowering. He’s gorgeous with his hair tousled like this, hands gripping on to the headboard to which he’s handcuffed, arm muscles standing out. “Happy birthday”, Jäger tells him and grabs the tell-tale, nondescript bag from the drawer next to the bed.

“Holy shit”, Bandit hisses as soon as he recognises it. “Oh god. This is the hottest thing you’ve ever done, you know that? Fuck.”

Jäger takes it as the enthusiastic consent it is and unwraps it to reveal shimmering metal, the sight alone enough to make Bandit’s hole visibly quiver. It strengthens Jäger’s resolve to see his lover this eager and excited, not to mention it makes him want to bully him some more. “Which size do you want?”

“I don’t know. Christ, don’t ask me that. Just do it.” Bandit is psyching himself up for it, that much is obvious – Jäger knows why, has experienced first-hand how overwhelming the sensation is, how odd, how intense. It’s best to anticipate it.

He chooses one that’ll be a snug fit, judging Bandit can handle it, and coats the smooth rod in lube before touching its tip to the very hole his tongue caressed a moment ago. His other hand is wrapped around his boyfriend’s cock, holding it still and upright so the sound can travel unimpeded, but he hesitates once more. He wants to make sure. “Are you ready?”

Bandit’s eyes are wide, wild, and yet his voice is perfectly composed for his reply: “Marius, ask me that again and I’ll rip this headboard in half so I can ride you until you’re covered in cum.”

Acceptable answer. Jäger grins and slides the tip in, prompting a low growl at the cool metal coming into contact with extremely sensitive skin. His touch is as feather-light as possible, merely supportive instead of pushing down, letting the rod settle naturally – and once it’s about halfway in, he lets go of it entirely.

And Bandit is keening. In disbelief, he watches the sound disappear into his stiff arousal, producing a constant quiet stream of noises while his body twitches. His breaths are shallow and Jäger wants to devour him whole. He looks delectable.

“Feels good?”, Jäger grins, relishing in the helplessness plastered all over his lover’s face, and before he even gets a proper response that’s not just a strangled moan, his fingers are back between Bandit’s legs, stroking over the other hole he intends to penetrate.

“Oh god”, Bandit chokes out as he finally fully understands what’s going to happen to him. “You can’t -”

“I can’t?” Allowing his boyfriend to roughly compose himself, Jäger doesn’t push yet, only draws small circles around the rim. He already knows he’s not going to last long inside Bandit, not when all that’s left of the sounding rod is the ball at the top, sitting prettily atop Bandit’s dark cock while the rest of it reaches deep inside, causing the shaft to repeatedly jump in pleasure, which no doubt enhances the experience.

“Okay.” It’s hardly more than a gasp. “Okay. Fuck me.”

That’s what he wanted to hear. Jäger still takes it slow, agonisingly slow judging by the desperation in every noise that comes from Bandit’s throat – he starts out with two fingers again and this time, it takes Bandit a whole lot longer to relax around them. By the third, he’s whining already and grinding down onto Jäger’s fingers, and each brush against his prostate ignites a new litany of curses. His smug veneer has cracked, he has no illusions about being in charge anymore, and it’s obvious he’s loving every second of it. As is Jäger, incidentally.

He takes pity on his boyfriend when it’s clear he’s given up and simply lets the sensations wash over him. Jäger removes his fingers from the ring of muscle accommodating them and wastes no time in pulling his trousers down to reveal his own neglected erection, wet with precum. After coating it in lube, he shuffles into position, presses its tip against Bandit’s hole and glances up, just to be sure. The dark look he receives in turn is bloodthirsty and reeks of impatience, so he foregoes asking for approval and simply pushes into pure ecstasy.

Bandit’s insides feel magnificent, hot and tight and wet, welcoming him eagerly and clamping down once he’s bottomed out. The sensation is indescribable and in order to show what it means to him to be awarded this kind of trust and mutual comfort, he leans down to capture Bandit’s lips in a slow, deep kiss. They both smile into it, his lover a bit more out of breath but holding on valiantly as their tongues play with each other. Bandit’s body is radiating heat, his cheeks reddened and heartbeat pounding so hard Jäger can feel it against his fingertips when he starts toying with one of the nipple piercings again.

“I love you”, he mumbles into Bandit’s mouth.

“I know.”

He huffs in amusement. “Is now really the time to be cocky? Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward”, Bandit mutters back, grinning in between the small moans whenever Jäger adjusts his position.

Jäger takes it as a polite request and begins moving, slowly pulling out and pushing back in while continuing their kissing, but when Bandit wraps his legs around him and physically forces him to thrust inside all the way, Jäger obliges. He’s still careful not to move Bandit’s cock around too much and sits back up when his motions become sharper, faster, causing them both to groan at the new angle. The velvet heat is heavenly, Jäger can’t get enough of the feeling, can’t get enough of the way Bandit tightens around him every time he runs a finger down his cock, or hits his prostate just right, or teases one of Bandit’s nipples.

Yeah. This isn’t gonna take long.

He chews on his lower lip as he tries his best to hold on, focuses on other sensations like the smooth skin of Bandit’s thigh beneath his palm, the disbelieving little noises his boyfriend produces without pause, the inviting dick practically begging to be touched, and hey, maybe he can oblige. Jäger interrupts his thrusts for a moment and encases the swollen head of Bandit’s arousal with two fingers. “You know what feels even better?”, he pants, caressing the metal ball on top of Bandit’s cock with the tip of his thumb. He’s asking because he knows, he’s experienced it before and remembers vividly the burning curiosity in Bandit’s eyes.

Eyes that now widen at the realisation. Bandit chokes out a broken yes, no more hesitation, and grimaces as if he regrets his decision the second Jäger starts pulling on the sound. It’s endless, they watch the rod grow and grow until he’s satisfied with the vague panic in an already lust-filled expression. Bandit’s dick strains against the silver material and his insides imitate the motions, squeeze down on Jäger’s shaft delightfully and he barely dares to continue with shallow thrusts after letting go of the sound again. But he still does. He buries himself as deep as he can go, over and over, as the rod obeys gravity and slides back down – and Bandit is beautiful, moaning like he’s being paid for it, biting his own arm to distract from the overstimulation and gripping Jäger so tightly that his vision blurs.

Once the sound has reached its destination once more, Jäger just can’t control himself any longer. He chases the feeling, snaps his hips in a fast rhythm, claws into Bandit’s legs to tease out some half-pained, half-aroused mewls. His movements are becoming uncoordinated, all coherent thought gives way to overwhelming need, he hears himself groan in bliss and Bandit, the suave prankster, the smug braggart, Bandit is a fucking mess underneath him, probably leaving marks in the headboard with how he’s scrabbling for purchase, possibly searching for anything to hold on to so he doesn’t lose himself entirely.

Bandit is uttering words now, the phrases empty and desperate at the same time, breathless curses interspersed with sweet nothings though a theme establishes after a bit, his mantra a mix of please let me come and please come inside me and the thought fills Jäger’s mind with such excitement and anticipation that it never even occurs to him to refuse. He feels himself climb and climb, adjusts the angle of his thrusts until his lover shudders with each one, his beautiful body moving against Jäger’s, meeting his movements impatiently as they both seek the same thing and then -

Jäger reaches his climax with a broken moan, every muscle in his body tensing up at the sudden surge of pleasure. It envelops him like darkness, steals the control over his limbs, forces his toes to curl and eyes to unfocus as he shivers in ecstasy. His orgasm hits him hard, switches his brain off for a good while and he’s left whimpering and bottomed out inside Bandit, his dick pulsing with every spurt of semen. The knowledge alone, the fact that he’s currently unloading into Bandit is scorching hot already and so the rush lasts much longer than it usually does, causing him to almost collapse once the elation begins to subside.

A lovely warmth remains in his midsection, the afterglow making him feel weightless, and even once he’s withdrawn from his lover, he can’t help but beam in satisfaction. Even with Bandit looking at him like an abandoned pet. “Wow”, he concludes, taking a deep, deserved breath.

“Marius”, comes the quiet request, delivered with a significant amount of despair.

“That felt even better than expected.” He gives Bandit’s poor cock an experimental tug, immensely enjoying the resulting fuck accompanied by hips actually lifting off the mattress. Good god, he must be begging for release.

“If you don’t jerk me off right now, I will cry”, Bandit informs him and doesn’t seem to appreciate Jäger’s amusement concerning his current helpless state.

Instead of complying, Jäger leans down and wraps his lips around the dark head again to finish this appropriately. Once he starts sucking, he hears the sharp sound of Bandit yanking on his handcuffs, probably because the sensation is too much, too bright, too intense – but he knows his boyfriend can take it. His tongue glides over the metal ball before toying with the frenulum, something that has always brought Bandit to his knees and now is no exception: the loud groan lets him know Bandit is enjoying himself. That, and suffering immeasurably. Perfect.

Slowly, he works his way down the shaft, allowing the hard flesh deeper and deeper into his throat while trying not to get kicked in the side with how Bandit is flailing by now. He can tell Bandit is close, one glance up at the utterly wrecked man is enough even if the way his abs are fluttering beneath painted skin wasn’t enough indication. Jäger ups the ante, sucks and licks and swallows him whole until there’s the tell-tale sign of no return – and then he withdraws again, captures the metal atop of Bandit’s dick with his teeth and pulls it up as well, pulls the rod out just as Bandit tumbles off the cliff and he goes wild.

Nothing coming out of his mouth is intelligible apart from a broken stream of oh god oh fuck, Bandit rears up, arches his back, fingers twitching in vain, hips stuttering, cock jumping. Jäger jerks him through the orgasm, massages more and more semen out of him as he shivers and seizes and whines, and it’s the most breathtaking thing he’s ever seen. Bandit leaves white strands all over himself without a single care, he’s in heaven and sounds like it, too, broken gasps as he tries not to hyperventilate, muscles dancing, his head thrown back.

He comes back down slowly, so slowly, breathing hard and only gradually relaxing parts of his body until he’s completely melted on the bed, loose and languid and Jäger just wants to kiss him forever.

Instead, he reaches up to uncuff him, taking note where the sharp metal has broken skin but deciding to postpone any medical attention in favour of aftercare first. Gingerly, he manipulates Bandit’s arms into a more comfortable position and peppers his face with kisses until he can feel his lover’s lips stretch into a weak smile. Bandit isn’t the mushy type but he also doesn’t complain when Jäger sticks to him like glue after sex.

But before he can actually do that, he should clean Bandit up a little. He traces the come stains on skin with his tongue, sucking in the bitter liquid until the worst is gone and crawls back up to press his lips against Bandit’s for a proper kiss. And so he can push most of Bandit’s come into his mouth once it opens. His lover grins and tries to fight back for a moment but ends up swallowing it all anyway. As revenge, he wraps his arms around Jäger and keeps him in place while kissing him more and more sloppily until everything tastes of come and just feels wet and when they eventually part, they’re both laughing.

“I should make you mad more often”, Bandit says, stretching with a few undignified groans before allowing Jäger to press against his side and rest his head on his shoulder.

“That should not be your takeaway from this.” He inspects one of Bandit’s wrists and deems the damage acceptable, no more than a few bloody scratches. Normally neither of them injure themselves when handcuffed. “Did you enjoy your birthday present?”

“What, you feeding me my own come?” And there it is again, his old sarcastic self. Jäger decides he will remind Bandit of how utterly vulnerable he’s looked through most of this at an opportune time. Just so he doesn’t forget. “You know, I didn’t like surprises, and I didn’t like receiving gifts. But I think you might’ve converted me.”

“Now I’m worried what you’re going to wish for from everyone next year.” Bandit snorts and something settles inside Jäger at how easy they can exchange quips like this. Regardless, this is the first time they’re spending Bandit’s birthday together – the previous year, Jäger had been away on a mission and the one before that Bandit ‘forgot’ to tell him when his birthday was, so they missed it entirely – and he wanted to make it special somehow. Bandit’s insistence on not wanting any presents left him uncertain though and so he ended up not getting him anything. Unlike pretty much everybody else, it seems.

“Dom?”, he asks quietly. Bandit hums in response. “Why aren’t the others banned from giving you things for your birthday?”

The man next to him heaves a deep sigh. “They are. They just don’t care. They insist on buying presents, so now I play along and give everything away afterwards.”

“You – huh?”

“What, you think I buy all the stuff I give the others? The expensive whisky for Seamus? Got that from Monika last year. Mark’s thingamajig? Grace gave it to me the year before. I thought you’d be the one to finally respect my wishes and not get me anything, but I’m afraid you’ve also failed.” Another sigh, this one decidedly dramatic.

Jäger hides his relief at this revelation by jabbing Bandit in the side, making him giggle. This explains a lot, not only why Bandit is such a generous gift-giver himself, but also why he insisted on not receiving anything, instead opting to just stay in and spend the day with Jäger. “You’d better not pass my gift on to anybody else though.”

“God no. I’ll keep yours, don’t worry. Especially if it means we can do this again.”

They look at each other, Bandit offering a kind, genuine smile for once and Jäger still coasting on the fuzzy feeling of being special, of being chosen to keep Bandit company, of being trusted fully, of being loved.

And he remembers some of the cute little noises Bandit made while Jäger was balls deep inside him.

“Yeah”, he replies. “I’d like that.”

#rainbow six siege #fanfic #oneshot #commissions #bandit/jäger #bandit #jäger #blitz feels guilty about the smuggling for DAYS #also you bet bandit starts being annoying on purpose just to see whether jäger snaps

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