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empress-simps · 27 days

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for remus, maybe a fic where he has a crush on fem!slytherin reader, and maybe the rest of the gang disapproves (at least initially) because of the silly house rivalry between gryffindor and slytherin? hopefully they’ll warm up to her because she’s actually really sweet and likes remus back, and they see how good for him she is :)

Hi darlingg! Thank you for this request, this is so adorable, and it was so fun to write :) I somehow made it a bit angsty...sorry about that I got carried away. Hope you enjoy! Pictures are from pinterest, credits to the owner!

Beyond The Surface

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Slytherin! Reader CW: Sirius being dramatic, Remus getting angry, and Language

He never really planned to fall in love. Remus thinks it would be better if he just lives his life in solitude; away from the confusing and complicated world of romantic relationships.

He doesn’t think anyone should bear the responsibility of having a werewolf boyfriend. Remus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he even touched a single hair on your body during that time, he desperately tries to convince himself that his friends and their future children will be enough to warm his heart who secretly yearns to have his own family.

‘It’s for the best, they wouldn’t suffer because of me.’ Remus thought, being the selfless person he was. Although, his plans that he so desperately tried to put up all came crumbling down when you came into the picture.

He didn’t think of it much at first. Remus thought it was just a simple crush that would go away in about three days or so. He was completely wrong.

“Remus Lupin, right? I’m Y/n Rosier, we’re assigned partners in potions.”

You sat beside him, beaming a smile that Remus was certain you were a gift for him from the Gods above. Merlin- you were simply breath taking. That was the first time he felt butterflies on his stomach, feeling his cheeks heat up as you offered a handshake.

“N-nice to meet you, Rosier.” He took your soft hands into his rough, and scarred ones. Shaking it as he desperately tries to ignore the sparks that seemed to go off inside him. Your face grimaced as your last name rolled off his tongue.

“Y/n is fine.” Remus nods, noticing your reaction. He was wondering how someone like you managed to survive other annoying Slytherins as your housemates.

“Alright then, Y/n. Call me Remus, yeah?”

That marks the beginning of an unlikely friendship of a Gryffindor half-blood with a Slytherin pure blood.

“Shall we begin?”

“Alright, but you lead. My skills are no good in potion making.” He jokes, making a small chuckle escape your throat. “I am quite aware.” She teases.

Being partnered with him for a Potions project meant that you would often meet up in the library, spending long hours sitting beside each other in silence, flipping page after page as Remus occasionally puts back books but returning with 5 more.

“Remmy, look here.” You pointed, not noticing how Remus blushed at his newfound nickname as he leaned to your seat, placing one arm on the back of your chair, his tall frame nearly engulfing you as he reads the contents of the page you found interesting.

He suddenly pales, his eyes transfixed on the title of the page. “Wolfsbane potion…” He whispers, eyes scanning the page quickly before looking at you. You hummed, flipping into another page to see how to make the said potion.

“Right, I figured we should make this for our project. What do you think? I think Polyjuice potion is a tad bit boring, hm?” She mused, seeking his opinion on the matter.

Remus parted his mouth to speak, yet the words seem to vanish at the back of his throat. You shot him a worried look, “Do you not like it? You could say so, don’t pretend nothing is wrong, Remmy.”

He blinks, trying to compose himself. “Ah, no-nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…”

You raised your eyebrows curiously, urging him to continue. “What? You know someone who’s a werewolf?” She jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere as she lightly elbows him.

“I do.” He chokes out, the confession was unexpected, even to him. Remus doesn’t even know why on Earth he’s about to tell you one of his darkest and deepest secrets. It was probably because of your warm and inviting aura. It’s like you wouldn’t judge anyone based on first impressions, appearance, and what you’ve heard about them until you can see for yourself.

Remus felt like he could trust you, and his instincts are almost never wrong.

“Well, maybe the potion we’ll brew can help them?” You offered a smile.

“It certainly would be of help to me.”

You stilled; your hand that was about to get your quill hovered as you looked at him in shock.

“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered quietly; eyes that were surprised stared into his nervous, amber ones. Remus could only nod, an inkling doubt and regret slowly crept up to him. Did he make the right decision? Was he wrong this time? Would you hold it against him?

Your face turned serious, clasping his hand on the table with yours, you looked at him in the eye. “Your secret is safe with me; I would never tell it to anyone. If it helps, I will even make an unbreakable vow, Remus.”

He widened his eyes, “N-no! It’s alright, I trust you, Y/n.” You visibly relaxed, smiling lightly, squeezing his hand, a soft look was sent his way.

“Thank you for trusting me, Remus. If you’d like, I’ll brew you a supply of wolfsbane from time to time.”

If Remus wasn’t in love before that, he certainly is now.

“Out of all the people you could’ve chose to like it was a Rosier?!” Sirius screeched, a horrified look on his face as he grabbed Remus’s shoulder and looked at him straight in the eyes. The said boy frowned “What about it?”

Sirius blanched, “Are you daft, Moons?” He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the rest of the marauders and Lily, wanting them to side with him. Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line; she does not quite agree with Sirius but there’s still a possibility. It doesn’t help the fact that you are a Slytherin; the house that reeks of cunning pure-blooded wizards.

Peter looked anywhere to just not meet the eyes of Remus, clearly uncomfortable. While James frowned, a troubled look on his face as he clasped Lily’s hand. “The Rosier family… they’re not exactly known for their…,” he started, but Sirius cut him off.

“Rosiers are evil! Slytherins! Pureblood Supremacists! Death Eaters!”

Remus frowns, reading the room and the reactions of his friends. The message was clear without words: none of them supported Remus’s interest in a Slytherin, a Rosier no less.

“Give her a chance, she’s different.” Remus tried to make his friends listen to him. Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. James sighed, looking at Remus. “Moony, it’s just… We never thought you would fancy a Slytherin.” Remus pursed his lips, “Yeah, I never thought you and Lily would end up together but here we are.” James grimaced at his words.

“There’s tons of girls who fancy you, Moony.” Peter tells him. Remus frowned, feeling annoyance stir inside him. “They’re not her, Wormtail. All I’m saying is that Lily and you blokes should give her a chance before you make assumptions.” He spat, glaring at Sirius before leaving the room.

“Rem? Mon amour, what’s wrong?” She frowns, placing her book down as Remus entered the library, heading straight to her usual place but the window. Remus sighs, shaking his head. He couldn’t possibly tell you what happened, how Sirius thought you were just those pesky Slytherins they pull pranks on.

“They do not like me.” She stated, looking down with a frown as she fiddled with her thumbs.

“Honey, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, amour.”

Remus felt his lips press into a thin line, gently taking your hands in his, trying to stop your nervous habit. “They’re still wrapping their heads around it. They’ll come around, don’t worry about it love.” You sighed shakily, “I hope so.”

Remus traced shapes across the back of her hand, “Anything interesting happened today?”

“Evan and I got into a fight; said I was a blood traitor…” You trailed off, noticing how Remus’s jaw tightened and his stare hardened. “But it was alright, we made up. He just told me to be careful.” To say Remus was surprised was an understatement. “He couldn’t be angry at his twin sister for a long time.” She smiles.

“Black! What the fuck did you do?!” Remus roars, grabbing a fistful of the said boy’s shirt, pushing him against the wall as James tried to pull him off, “Come on, Moons-“

“Don’t bloody touch me, James!” He bellows, pushing off the Potter boy who stumbled away, shock evident in his features. Peter quickly got up from his bed, “Moony, why are you so angry? What did he do?” He drops shoves Sirius off as he stared at his friends.

“It was you guys who pulled a prank on her right? “Remus’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, pointedly looking at Sirius. “Well congratulations, she’s being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now.”

Sirius felt shame and guilt ate him up. The prank was never supposed to go that far.

“Ever wondered why I was suddenly so calm during the full moon? It’s all thanks to her. She makes me batches of wolfsbane potion every month, without fail.”

James choked, “You told her?”

“I did”

“What if she tells everyone?” Peter frowns, concerned for Remus.

“If she wanted to, then the whole school would’ve already known, she even suggested an unbreakable vow.” Remus uttered out, sitting at his bed, looking away from them “Some kind of friends you guys are. I care about her, and if you hurt her, you hurt me too.”

Sirius cautiously approached him, “Moons, I’m sorry.” He began. James placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know, we’re knobheads. Sorry, Moony.” Peter nods, “We messed up, it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.”

“We will, Moony.”

An hour has passed after you got treated by Madame Pomfrey, you wanted to leave as you already felt alright but she insisted you stay for an hour or two just so she could monitor you. Having no choice but to oblige.

“Love?” Your ears perked up, the sound of Remus’ voice calling out to you. You turned and smiled at his direction, although suddenly dropping it as you saw the rest of the Marauders and Lily following him.

Trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, Sirius pulls out a bouquet of flowers. “Remus told us you like Tulips…” You were about to take it but stopped, James seemed to notice this. “It’s not jinxed, or anything like that.” You bit your lip, silently looking at Remus as if asking was it safe, he nods. “I was there when they picked it out love.” You finally took the bouquet, nodding gratefully. “Thank you.”

“We wanted to say we were sorry.” James started; Lily nodded. “It was quite shameful that we made such accusations and judged you before even getting to know you.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n. We…we were just looking out for Moony.” Sirius sighed; shame visible in his features.

“I understand, I probably would have done the same. I’d also look out for the people I care about.” You softly replied. “It’s okay, I forgive all of you.” You looked at them.

James stepped forward, “We hope you can give us a chance to make it up to you.” Sirius cleared his throat, “And maybe, if you’re up for it, join us for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?” His attempt at a smile was hopeful.

Your lips curved into a genuine smile, your body slowly becoming relaxed. “I’d like that,”

#remus x reader #remus fluff #moony x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x y/n #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #remus lupin #james and lily #james potter #sirius black #marauders era #harry potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic

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imyearningg · 2 years

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This is a reminder for all writers

To stop putting fanart as your fic headers (unless you get explicit permission)

I keep seeing writers who do this, and it’s so, so disrespectful to artists.

If someone copies your fic and reposts without your permission, or without crediting THAT IS WRONG.

In the same way, if someone uses an artist’s artwork by reposting or editing without permission, or without crediting, THAT IS WRONG.

#it absolutely grinds my gears because I get the aesthetic and wanting to make the photo in your writing post catch peoples eye and all #but so many people don’t even credit the artist #use a manga panel!!!!#this doesn’t mean you can’t ask the artist btw #but a lot of artists have rules and if they allow reposts or edits the least you can do is credit them #and don’t you dare tell me you don’t know where it’s from because you found it on pinterest #I will 🤺 if you credit Pinterest and not the actual artist #yearn;thoughts

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gumiluver · 2 months

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TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS! ~ JUJUTSU KAISEN

synopsis: what happens when two pretty best friends get you in their grasp?

cover pic credit: k1tty_4ndy on pinterest |border credit: @/cafekitsune

lovers <3: gojo satoru x afab!reader x geto suguru

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact (you will be blocked!)

cw: nsfw, pwp, fingering, oral (f. receiving), manhandling, threesome (mfm), dirty talk (suguru’s a slut with his words), squirting, pet names

an: hope y’all enjoy! I’m considering making this a series with different jjk!best friend pairings!…lmk if you guys would be interested in smthn like that <3

“Ohh, do that again—she likes that,” Suguru groans, enchanted by the way your pretty eyes cross in a haze of lust-filled bliss. He’s got you in between his legs, a fistful of your hair in his grasp, making you angle your head up towards him so he can gaze upon your innocent face and watch it slowly morph into the fucked out cumslut he knows his good girl is.

“Hah, ‘course she does,” Gojo snickers, reveling at how your sweet pussy drips oh so deliciously for him.

“It’s ‘cause of me isn’t it, princess? You like when your ‘toru touches you right…” he trails off, creating an even deeper ache in your already pulsing cunt. He slowly weaves his index and middle finger through your folds to find your dripping core and finishes off his remark with a thrust of his fingers,”…here.”

“Ngghhh—fuuuck!!” you cry, overtaken by the intrusion of Satoru’s fingers that were, yet again, making their way into your gummy walls. His fingers move with purpose and certainty, hooking them toward your plush womb with the sole intention of abusing that spongy spot that makes you weep for him.

You felt like you were suffocating. Geto’s firm grip on your hair and neck leaves you squirming in his hold, but he’s quick to put you back in your place, “be good for us sweetheart, I’d hate to have to punish you so soon,” he chides, secretly hoping that you’d start to lose your rationality and step out of line. The shiver that rides along your spine doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru, and he takes pride in knowing how his words sway you towards submission.

It seems like Satoru was able to read his best friend's intentions and wanted nothing more than to aid him in your descent, noting how Suguru’s clenched jaw and bulging arm veins hold him hostage from his true desires. He could see the sheer restraint that his best friend was holding onto, and Gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t holding himself back as well.

Because fuck—look at ya.

Your head was thrown back, sheer ecstasy written on your face as Satoru quickened his pace, effectively fingering you into an early orgasm that had you squirting all over the two. The moans and cries you let out have both men grunting like animals, humping up into the air to gain some sort of friction on their sensitive cocks. Your hips sway in tandem with Satoru’s fingers, making both men become hypnotized by the very essence of your being. Both men drooling like fucking dogs, waiting to sink their teeth into you, waiting for your beck n’ call. The glistening sheen that radiates from your body resembles an innocent-like aura, just begging to be corrupted—and corrupt they shall.

Satoru’s already conjured up his own sick and twisted plans, wanting to get you an all fours to fuck you from behind while watching his pretty best friend fuck his lover's mouth.

And of course, Suguru had his own salacious desires, aching to see you split on top of his dick as he watches his pretty best friend jerk off at the sight of him fucking you.

And you? Well, you’d be happy if either of them would hurry up and fuck you already—the endless teasing starting to weave between the lines of pleasure and pain. Satoru continues to overstimulate your poor cunt and Suguru’s grip on you makes you yearn for something harder—something rougher.

Satoru’s ability of forethought seemed to have played in your favor as well, seeing as he can’t help but gaze at your sweet cunt that’s just begging to be filled. You can see his cock strain against his boxer briefs, an occasional twitch or two catching your attention and making you drool—wanting to taste his heavy tip.

Your gaze is hyper-fixated on Satoru’s cock now, your body moving forward—like a magnet being drawn to its force. But before you could even reach him, you feel yourself get pulled back into Suguru’s chest, “Ah—ah—ah, where do you think you’re going, pretty girl? Did you forget about me?”

You look up towards Suguru again, puppy dog eyes on full display to convey your innocence, “n-no!! I’d never forget you Sugu~” you cry, reaching up to place a warm hand on his cheek. You look over to Satoru who’s watching the two of you intently and beckon him over, wanting to please both your lovers equally, “Just wanna feel you—both of you.”

And who were they to deny their precious baby? The one and only person that could make them drop to their knees and beg for just a simple taste of you. The single most important person in the world to them. And most importantly, the only person that they are willing to share and love, together.

“Mmmm—fuckin’ love hearin’ you cry for us, such a desperate little thing. Isn’t that right, Satoru?” Suguru says, a cocky smirk adorning his face as he sees your blush darken over your cheeks. He squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, loving the way your plump limps perk together for him to kiss and suck on.

“Mhm~, poor baby’s just drippin’ for us,” Satoru responds, lowering his head down towards your cunt. Before you can protest, before you can even beg for their cocks, Suguru covers your mouth and pins your body on top of his. His forearm holding you down as Satoru spreads your thighs open again but this time, to suckle at your pink bud, and the whimper that you let out is like fucking music to their ears.

“I know you want our cocks sweetheart, but we gotta prep you more. Just relax, let us make you feel good,” Suguru charms, lulling you into a state of naivety to get you to blindly trust them. With the multiple orgasms that Satoru has been pulling from you coupled with Suguru’s debauched speech, you were more than ready to take both of them at this point.

But this? This was pure greed, from both men.

Suguru, wanting to see just how much you can handle before you’re a fucked out crying mess, begging to be stuffed with their cocks. And Satoru, reveling in your taste and secretly hoping to get you to squirt on his face.

Both men had their filthy little plans of watching you come undone, and both were intrigued by what the other’s plans were to get you to come undone.

And you? Well, all you could do was take it. Take the pleasurable torment. Take what they give you and then some.

After all, who knows what these two pretty best friends have in store for you in the long run?

an: what did you guys think?? I love hearing your feedback and what you enjoyed!! Should I make this a series? <33

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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vxiphoid · 10 months

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EXIXIR OF EMOTIONS

❨ summary ❩ genshin › more than friends? moments. is he feeling too much or too little?

tags ✧ gn!reader, fluff, modern au (?), friends to lovers, y’all are dorks, the sweetest of feelings.

amanuensis’ message ⊹ y’all are not just friends babes, smooch.

⌜ O.7+ ⌟

♫ lover boy - phum viphurit

genshin masterlist

CUDDLING.

“you’ll put me to sleep at this rate.”

“its not like i’m going anywhere anytime soon. i like you here, in this moment. just sleep.”

— there’s absolutely nothing better than hearing your beating heart while he rests over you. no better feeling than your hands carding through his hair, braiding a few small pieces he was sure not to remove. he listens to your absentminded humming, your muted whispers about how soft his hair is, and the delighted thrum of your heart. his hand finds your unoccupied one and you were quick to interlock fingers, a reassuring squeeze following shortly after. maybe a small nap wouldn’t be so bad, little did he know you weren’t that far behind him.

AETHER, kaveh, WANDERER, zhongli, shikanoin heizou, BAIZHU, ayato, gorou, venti.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

LATE NIGHT TALKS.

u up? ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀2:23 am (read)

been up ever since i heard your ringtone, are you alright? ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 2:23 am (read)

— you have a different ringtone from everyone else in his contacts for times like this. honestly, it doesn’t matter if you want to rant, call, or even plan something like going for a walk, his answer will always be yes. its the yearning need to hear you laugh over the phone, even if he did see you three hours ago. babble on about the first thing that comes to your mind, watching you light up as you spoke. he’s sure he has heart eyes as his pupils as he takes you in for the umpteenth time tonight.

XIAO, DILUC, childe, kaedehara kazuha, shikanoin heizou.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

LISTENING TO HIM GEEK OUT.

“sorry, i’m talking your ear off.”

“no, keep talking. i love your voice. what happened then?”

— its the complete adoration and love swirling in your eyes that makes him lose his train of thought. he notices when he turns to see if you’re still following, the smile adorning your face spreads wider under his gaze. what are you trying to do? give him a heart attack? don’t look at him like that (please do, he’s literally in shambles.) you’re so willing to listen to him even when you dont understand the topic. give me a night, ill have it all memorized and we can talk about it together, you’d say. how could you be so perfect?

ITTO, KAEYA, thoma, ALHAITHAM, tighnari, CYNO.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

D.I.YING CLOTHES TOGETHER.

“and then the needle goes through here…”

“please don’t poke yourself—”

— you texted him about some moss embroidery on a sweater you had saw on pinterest and he was already on his way to pick you up and run to the nearest store for yarn and string. he found two old similar sweaters in the depths of his drawers and you were quick to get to work. he could barely pay attention to his own stuff because your shoulder kept brushing his… by the end of it, made with your hello kitty bandaged fingers, on the very end of his sleeve was his own embroidered moss and your initial.

AETHER, BAIZHU, albedo, VENTI, kaveh, zhongli.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

DANCING TOGETHER.

“no but, what if i fall? that would be embarrassing.”

“i would catch you. always.”

— having his hand interlocked with yours has never felt so faultless, he’s been close but never this close. the amount of times he’s wanted to play with your hands but refuse because of the fear of making you uncomfortable yet you seemed so at ease grabbing his hands to mess with his knuckles at any given time. your hand that was splayed out on his chest traced little hearts into the fabric while you studied his face. for a second, he swore you leaned in.. that was until you stumbled on his foot. instincts kicked in quicker than he could react, tugging you flush against him. well that was embarrassing… even then, both your laughter, firstly stiffed, echoed throughout the atmosphere.

ALHAITHAM, ayato, DAINSLEIF, tighnari, KAEYA, THOMA.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KISSING HIS SCARS.

“why do you do this?”

“i want you to know i accept every part of you.”

— weither that be his hands, his arms, back, neck, waist, there’s no place that your lips don’t leave a tingling feeling upon his skin. it’s how you say hello, its how you say goodbye, it’s so frequent he finds himself counting the mere seconds of the intimate interaction. how you lingered for a second longer one day or a second less the next. you’ve found scars on him where he didn’t even know he had-including the invisible scar you insisted he had on the corner of his mouth that you’d pecked last.

AETHER, albedo, childe, CYNO, dainsleif, DILUC, gorou, itto, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, XIAO, WANDERER.

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silvershiningtarot · 6 months

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🔆PAC: What does Your Future Life look like? 💏🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🌹(Mood Board) 🕯

Paid Readings

Disclaimer: This is about what your future life looks like in the future. This is what kind of success you going to have in your life. I feel that this will motivate you guys to do so. Please reblog and comment on my successful reading. I got these pictures on Pinterest

🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏾

Pile 1: I'm seeing your future life being successful. I see you buying your dream house. Should I say your dream home? Something you've been wanting your whole life since you were dreaming about since you were a young child. I am seeing crying because you've got your home life. In the future. I see that you are fucking feeling proud of yourself. You'll be treating yourself so beautifully. I see a lot of self-care and self-love. Wow 😮 I see you so motivated to get your dream life together. You are going to make the future your fairytale. If that makes sense. It is like Cinderella who found her prince charming but you've done it. I noticed that you'll be designing your house. Maybe, I am seeing a pink or gold-ish kind of house. I do see stairs if you guys like pink then that's what I'm seeing but white too. So I feel that you'll be going out a lot. Like outside of your house. I think that you'll own your house. I don't see you renting it. This is your house. I heard “college” maybe, some of you probably going back to school in the future. But if you look at the mood board this what you're future looks like to me.

🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

Pile 2: I can see that your future looks like you are going to be focusing on your love life. Maybe, some of you might be into the medical field, or some type of career you wanna be doing for yourself. But I do see you being in a relationship as well😌. I see a lot of support for your future. I heard “lawyer.” maybe, some of you want to be a lawyer or something you've been yearning for. But I can see it happening for you. Amazing isn't it? I can see you being happy. But I noticed that you might be a bit little unsatisfied with certain things in your life. I don't know what it is but it is something. Maybe, you might go through some type of disappointment. I feel that you might be going through something you've been wanting but it didn't happen the way you wanted it to but you will get it. Maybe, it is some kind of doubt. That's why I'm feeling doubt. I feel like you'll meet your husband in your early 20s or late 20s. Your husband is gonna help you with something you thought never could happen but it did. I Would say that your husband is your good luck charm. But you'll be feeling motivated and you are going to be working up to speed. Oh yeah, Maybe, a few of you will go to college or are already in school and I feel that you'll pass something. Truly, feel that you'll pass as to where you are going to graduate! Woo 😯 it is going to be a big ass celebration. I'm proud of you guys 🕯💋🙌🏽. I'm feeling all the luck 🐎 here for this pile. Yes, a lot of good 🌟 news, and luck is going to keep coming your way.

🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺🌹🌺

Pile 3: Okay, your future looks like that you'll be fucking successful. I think that you are a come-up. What I mean by that is starting your career in music, modeling, acting, or being part of some kind of industry but you are going to be successful in it. I'm feeling it. I feel a big ass change is going to happen for you. But it is like that saying “If you want it, you gotta go get it.” that's what I'm feeling like that. You'll feel so happy that you've been manifesting the future dream you've been wanting for yourself. Wow! I keep hearing “Success, SUCCESS, SUCCESS!” so in the future 📡 some kind of success is coming your way. You are going to grab it. Whatever you set your mind to. You are going to take it. Yes, I feel that you will be feeling regret or thinking that you don't deserve it but you have to say FUCK IT! I feel that once you have that motivation in yourself and say “Fuck It.” you are going to take it. But I sense that you might settle down quickly. I mean quickly. You would want a family or at least a yearning for a family. Maybe, some of you right now have a list of what you dreamt about your family looking like. Few of you might be workaholics and some of you will be settling down. You might have a baby 👶 in your mid-career. But I have a sense that your partner will take care of it while you are working. I'm seeing you crying because you'll be missing home. Aww, I'm sorry. But I see that you are fighting for this position in this industry. I feel that you might work in some K-pop industry or at least meet them or should I say work with them. I heard “agent” Maybe, one of the crew members wants you to be their agent or be part of their crew. I think that your future looks like it will be pretty good as you make it to be. I feel that you’ll be fulfilled and satisfied.

#pac reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading #tarot cards #fs pick a pile #pick a pile #divination readings #love reading #intuitive readings #pac reblog #paidpromotion #paid readings #free readings

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blissfullyapillow · 1 month

Text

┃"I’ve missed you."

✧˖°. Blade x fem reader

✧˖°. wc: 1,393~

✧˖°. Prompt: When a character desperately misses their partner after being apart for far too long.

✧˖°. Warnings: smut/explicit (18+) & poetic cheesiness lol

✧˖°. Pillow Talks: I need Blade so badly.ᐟ.ᐟ Anyway, I’ve returned (temporarily) to deliver something that’s been sitting in my drafts for far too long now. I hope you enjoy .ᐟ (,,>ヮ<,,) <3

✧˖°. Masterlist

Credits: @/sillyakito on pinterest

The first time I heard Blade murmur “I’ve missed you,” I thought I’d imagined it. Blade is not someone who openly expresses his thoughts and feelings through words, rather he prefers to portray his feelings through meaningful actions.

I quickly realized I hadn’t imagined the shy words that left his lips, since his sharp eyes reflected uncertainty when they met my gaze.

I wasted no time pulling him into my arms, just so I could whisper my response against the shell of his ear.

“I missed you too.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Now it’s become something of a routine. Every reunion I celebrate with Blade, typically after one too many nights away from the comfort of his arms, the first words out of his mouth are always the same.

“I missed you.”

Those words never fail to warm my heart.

To reiterate; although Blade has his moments, he tends to favor action over words. So, it feels all too natural when innocent touches shift to something akin to a burning flame that lights my skin ablaze.

𓆩♡𓆪

The familiar caress of his rough palms cease in favor of gently lowering me beneath him. Now, I lay before him on my back as his imposing figure hovers over me. Eyes redder than the leaves on a maple tree hold my gaze. He conveys the ardent passion that resides within them through the fierce grip he has on my hip.

His intense gaze threatens to steal more than just my breath; my heart yearns to make a home in his rugged palms, my body surrenders to the eager strokes of his fingers along my inner thigh, all while my soul craves nothing more than to be forever intertwined with his, if only to experience his love in every life of mine.

His hand releases my hip so his arm can wrap around me, pulling both my body and my lips into his expectant embrace.

He takes his time to savor the taste of my lips. I feel the muscles within his arm tense. His body curls over mine as if he’s about to fall, yet his free hand rests beside my head to support his weight.

His lips release mine from its tantalizing captivity. A desperate gasp escapes his lips; my eyes eagerly open to witness his strained breaths and flushed cheeks.

I feel the muscles in his arm flex, the sensation eliciting a noise of surprise from me.

He smirks.

A well known sight that never fails to set my heart ablaze.

He lowers himself to press his weight against me, his free hand moves to rest on my lower back, flattening his palm against my feverish skin.

His mouth makes a slow descent, languidly savoring the taste of my skin as it memorizes every dip and curve. His lips linger on every mark and scar he happens upon, pressing endearingly long kisses against them.

The attention my body is receiving borders on being too much to bear. My heart hurts; it’s a surreal feeling, to be held so delicately, as if everything he’s ever come to love is held within his strong, unrelenting grip.

“I love you.” The words sound strained coming from my lips, perhaps due to the tears that wet my lashes.

His flattened palm moves, unhurried, ascending from my back to my face before it cups my cheek.

"love.. that word isn't enough to express how I feel about you."

Our kiss tastes a bit salty; his heartfelt admission broke the dam that held my tears at bay.

His mouth is reluctant to leave mine, avidly pursuing after my attempt to part for air.

I submit to the heady emotions Blade’s actions and words impose upon me, succumbing to everything that is Blade.

It’s… intoxicating.

My body burns with the passion Blade’s love inflicts upon me. His arm firmly holds me in place to prevent any possible chance I have of escaping.

Not that I’d ever want to flee; I find the very thought abhorrent.

When he's finally satiated, temporarily, his mouth pulls away. I desperately gasp in an attempt to acquire the oxygen my lungs have been denied.

I struggle to open my eyes, lost in my desire for the man holding me so close to his heart. Even so, my eyes reveal themselves as they naturally search for his gaze.

I’m met with an alluring sight.

His eyes are intently focused on my every move, devouring every subtle twitch of my muscles with his fervid stare.

It nearly causes me to shy away.

He dips his head, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. In almost an inaudible murmur, with the deepest voice I’ve heard from him to date, he groans.

“Tell me what you want, baby."

An embarrassing high pitched whine leaves my lips.

When the sound reaches Blade's ears, he emits another deep groan as his hips hotly buck against mine.

Unbeknownst to me, the sound of my desperate whine only stoked the fires of the urgent zeal that threatens to consume his very being; He’s afraid he’ll perish if he can’t savor the taste of his heart’s desire this instant.

So, with a newfound sense of urgency, he murmurs his question once more.

“Tell me what you want, baby."

My answer is so immediate I almost talk over him.

“You.”

A loud, breathy whine escapes me as his hand swiftly moves from my cheek to my thigh, effortlessly lifting my leg to rest upon his shoulder. His arm finally releases me from his firm grasp to lift my other leg onto his unoccupied shoulder.

Now, both my legs rest upon his shoulders as he cages me beneath him.

He unhurriedly drags his mouth down the expanse of my torso, playfully nipping at my skin as he travels to his destination. Now, between my legs, he presses a lingering kiss to my inner thigh. I jolt with a start when I feel his tongue lap at my arousal.

𓆩♡𓆪

I’m a moaning mess under him moments later, and his muffled grunts fuel my longing for him.

“Fuck, you turn me on so much with the noises you make,” he groans, thrusting his hips up into mine. I whimper softly, caging him in as my legs wrap tightly around his waist.

“Look at me.”

His request surprises me, but I’d be a fool to deny him. With great effort I open my eyes to look at him, and the rapture within his gaze captivates me like no other.

“Kiss me.”

His simple statement sends an electrifying jolt to my heart.

My lips are drawn to his like a magnet; our lips create a tight seal as his hips follow a relentless rhythm against mine.

I have no control over my voice as we reach our climax together. He holds me close, so close I can feel his heart pound against my own racing heart.

Blade slowly fills me up to the brim.

I swear nothing I’ve experienced prior has ever felt more satisfying.

Our tired bodies heave in unison as we catch our breath. Blade dips his head down to rest his forehead against mine.

I admire him as his chest slows its previous rapid rise and fall.

Aeons. He’s a sight for sore eyes.

His love presents itself in the soft smile on his lips, in the tender way his hand cups my cheek as he, too, admires my features. It manifests in the way he reaches over for the glass of water he kept nearby for this very moment.

The water slides down my throat with ease, it’s as rejuvenating as it is refreshing.

“I missed you.” His voice is a little hoarse, brimming with an uncharacteristic amount of emotion.

My hands delicately brush his hair aside.

He hums quietly, expressing his content with my actions.

“I’ve missed you too.” My voice drips with emotion, and Blade emits a pleased sound at this revelation. A soft noise of appreciation slips from my lips when he shifts his position so we can cuddle comfortably.

Sleep finds us easily that night. It acts as a warm blanket, while our dreams are the pillows beneath our heads.

Yet, the love I feel in my heart derives solely from the man sleeping in my arms.

Blade, the man who cherishes the heart that he holds so tenderly in his hands.

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nevadancitizen · 3 months

Note

do you think you could write something where könig and/or ghost (separate) were nearby or watched reader try to participate in a conversation but constantly got ignored or talked over to the point where they just kinda go silent and walk away? they end up comforting the reader and just trying to be a shoulder to cry on while they talk about their frustrations because this is something that always happens to them <\3

it doesn’t have to be too long and you don’t have to worry about getting to this request too quickly!! thank u for reading anyways :3

-> THE SOCIAL WEAK LINK

synopsis: rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost's asses. rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.

word count: 2.2k (~1.1k each)

characters: ghost, könig, awkward! reader (lol)

notes: (rings dinner bell) hey friend.. this req has been sitting since september.. im so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)

-> GHOST:

Debriefings were always boring. Everyone was tired, sweaty, and just wanted a cold shower and a warm bed. But what else encompasses the military so eloquently except unnecessary misery?

And to add to the misery, some rookies had tagged along to the mission. “On-the-job training,” Price had prattled off as he read the mission statement. He had given you and the rest of the 141 an exaggerated look that screamed If these rookies compromise the mission I’m going to tear the Lieutenant Colonel a new one.

The rookies (with callsigns Quest and Cable) were nice enough. They weren’t given the opportunity to burn off their energy on the mission like the 141 – they’d stayed behind as backup while the 141 went in to deal with the bad guys. As a consequence, now they’re in the debriefing room, chattering away like parrots.

Ghost could fall asleep in the chair he was in, if Cable and Quest were a little quieter. He looks at the next spinny chair over, where you’re sitting. You’ve got your knees tucked to your chin and are silently tracing the patterns in the wood table with a fingernail. Every now and again, you glance at the rookies, but ultimately turn your eyes away.

You were always just a bit too awkward to fit in with the rest of the military. Either too quiet or too loud; you rambled too often and your voice cracked when you did. You slipped through the cracks, into the quiet background with Laswell and Shepherd. You’re one of the powerful hands that move the pieces on the chessboard, but not a well-recognized one. Well-recognized within the 141, yes, but not on a wider scale.

Ghost can tell how you’re feeling by the obvious emotion on your face. It’s yearning – an emotion Ghost knows well.

His eyes sweep the rest of the table. Gaz is fucking around on his phone, probably making a new Pinterest board, while Soap leans over his shoulder and watches him. Price is in another room, talking to someone important. Ghost couldn’t really bring himself to care about who.

The entire room is bogged down with an unmistakable tiredness that goes right over Quest and Cable’s heads. Really, the only sound in the room is their voices and, intermittently, yours as you try to inject yourself into their conversation. Each attempt is met with pursed lips that barely count as smiles and something along the lines of “Yeah. Anyway…”

Eventually, Price pops in, leaning his head on the doorframe. The brim of his hat crinkles and his nose wrinkles up in disdain. He sighs. “Everyone out. Lieutenant Colonel wants this meeting room for herself. We’ll debrief later.”

Quest and Cable pop up like excited teenagers and head for the door, continuing to talk. “I’m soooo goddamn hungry. Hopefully the mess hall has something good…”

“Hey!” You practically jump from your chair, your eyes on the rookies. “Um, I heard that they just restocked the vending machines? Do you wanna maybe chick – I mean, check – them out with me? They’re just down the hall.”

They both tense, and Quest looks over their shoulder. They smile awkwardly and exchange a look with Cable. “Uh… maybe another time?”

You visibly deflate and rock back on your heels. “Yeah, totally. See you later.”

They both nod tersely and exit. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You sit back in the spinny chair and it wheels backwards from the force.

Gaz shuts his phone off and groans while Soap sucks air through his teeth.

“Not your best effort,” Gaz says.

“I know,” you say.

“Maybe you’re not just compatible with rookies?” Soap tries.

You roll your head back against the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. “I know.”

You sink further into the chair, then stand. “Whatever. Let’s clear out. Price will have our heads if we don’t.”

Ghost tails you out the door. You don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there (even if his footsteps are extraordinarily light for a man of his stature).

“Pompous pricks, ay?” Ghost says.

You stick your hands in your pockets, hiking your shoulders up by your ears. “Wish they were a little more personable. Wish I was a little more personable.”

“Why, you’re plenty personable.” Ghost laughs gruffly at his own joke as he nudges your shoulder with his.

“Asking to go ‘chick out’ the vending machines is a personable interaction?” You relax your arms and knock your elbow against Ghost’s.

“I thought it was funny,” Ghost says. “Even if it was just a slip-up.”

You sigh, but keep up with Ghost as he walks. “If it was funny, then why didn’t they laugh?”

Ghost thinks for a second. “Maybe they just don’t have a sense of humor?”

“You don’t have a sense of humor,” you jab.

Ghost scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Then make me laugh,” you say. “Make me laugh right now.”

Ghost breathes in and exhales slowly through the fabric of his mask. “Well… do you know why the Cold War was called the Cold War?”

“The supernations fought using proxy wars,” you say. “America and the USSR never really went head-to-head.”

Ghost sighs pointedly. “Yes,” he says, “but also because of the icy-BMs.”

“The what?”

“The Cold War?” Ghost repeats. “Icy?”

“ICBM stands for Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.” You stop midstep, looking at Ghost with a disbelieving smile. “Ghost, don’t tell me you don’t know what ICBM stands for?”

“No, it –” Ghost sighs. “Icy sounds like IC? Icy-BMs?”

You burst out laughing, waving Ghost away like he was some form of stupid. “Ghost, seriously? You don’t – oh my God!”

“I’m not a fucking knob, I know what…”

Ghost can’t bring himself to correct you as he watches you laugh like that. It’s a bit too loud and there’s a snort in there somewhere, but it rings true and warms Ghost’s heart. He doesn’t mind being seen as dumb for a minute if you’re able to warm his heart with a sound as nice as that.

-> KöNIG:

König nearly always hates going undercover.

More often than not, the higher-ups stick him in some ill-tailored enemy armor and send him in with nothing but a less-than-encouraging slap on the ass. They know he’ll make it out alive.

On this mission, he feels a little more comfortable. It’s more than obvious you’re not.

You and König are camped out on the edge of a ballroom, sitting together at a small table. You’re dressed in a fancy outfit that just screams decadence, and it fits your role well – the adult child of some rich, cigar-chomping tech baron. König is playing the role of your bodyguard, dressed down from his usual military garb in a plain black suit (with kevlar padding) and a balaclava.

You cross one leg over the other at the knee and look down at your flute of champagne as you swirl it. The bubbles rise to the surface and pop as the pale liquid settles.

“I hate this,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for König to hear.

He nods along, but straightens up when a small group of people approach the table. There’s an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a girl, maybe fifteen.

“Hi, sweetheart!” An older woman croons at you. “You’re Bohumil Silvester’s youngest, right?”

“Oh!” You sit up straighter and put the champagne flute on the table. “Yes, I am. And, um – and who might you be?”

“I’m Laila Matthews.” Laila checks over her shoulder at the people accompanying her. “This is my daughter, Adine, and this is my husband, Keaton.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile politely, but König can scope out of the corner of his eye that you’re gripping a bit of the fabric of your too-fancy outfit like you’re meaning to rip it off. You spout your fake name to Laila with a cheeky “But you know that already, right, ma’am?”

Laila is utterly delighted with your carefully constructed persona. She throws her head back and laughs, one hand on her chest and the other finding Keaton’s shoulder. “Oh, Lord. Aren’t you just your father’s child?”

You nod and, once again, smile politely while exchanging side-eye glances with König. He’s just as confused as you are.

As soon as Laila recovers, she’s talking again. She gestures vaguely in König’s direction. “And who is this? Security, for this casual meeting?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” you say. “You can never be too careful these days, with all the laws about concealed carry and everything.”

“Well, I’m 57, and I’ve only had security for a few occasions,” Laila says.

“You’re 57?” You bark, a little too loud. You can feel a few heads turn your way and Laila’s stare turns withering. König’s shoulders shake as he coughs into his fist.

“I mean, um, you’re 57?” You try again, quieter. “Because you don’t look it. Like, at all. Ma’am.”

Laila’s tone is flat when she speaks. “Right.”

“I meant, um, you look younger? Uh, anyway.” You smile nervously, then pick up your champagne flute and take a sip. “I love your family’s outfits! And the, uh, the way they match.”

Keaton leans in and grabs a hold of Laila’s shoulder. He gets up on his toes to whisper something in Laila’s ear. It’s hard to hear over the ambient noise of the ballroom. Laila nods and Keaton continues to whisper.

“Um, Laila? Mrs. Matthews?” You try to get her attention, to no avail. She keeps nodding to Keaton’s words like you’re not even there.

You stand and turn to Adine. “Adine, right? Tell your mother it was nice speaking to her.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Adine nods absently, her eyes somewhere else on the ballroom floor.

You toss the rest of the champagne in the flute down like it’s a shot and stand from the table. You make eye contact with König and nod towards the French doors that lead towards the balcony.

People don’t notice as you and König step out. The sky is clear, yet the night is still young enough to be starless.

“Christ, I hate rich people,” you mutter under your breath.

König moves and leans his back against the wrought iron of the railing. His eyes sweep across the small area, then he nods. “Yes. That interaction was less than pleasant.”

You lean against the railing next to him. “Why was she even talking to me? And what did she mean, ‘Aren’t you just your father’s child?’ Like, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am… not sure,” König says. “Maybe it’s part of rich people code?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You huff out a laugh, then sigh. “I really wasn’t the best pick for this mission.”

“What do you mean?” König asks. “You are perfectly capable of fighting.”

“No, the, like…” you sigh again. “The talking part? I’m not fit for that. Never been a good conversationalist, never will be.”

“You are conversing with me right now, no?” König gestures between you and him. “This is a conversation. You are doing fine.”

“Yes, but…” you trail off. “You saw me. I shouted her age out in front of everyone.”

König hums. “To be fair, it was a bit of a shock.”

You glance up at him and laugh, a pretty smile gracing your features. “Shut up.”

“But it was!” König insists. The fabric of his balaclava puffs out as he laughs. “I had to cough to cover up my laugh. I nearly had to excuse myself.”

“Yeah, sure.” You shove his shoulder half-heartedly as you turn and look out over the railing, at the courtyard. König follows your gaze.

The courtyard is illuminated by ambient lamps. Paths are laid with bricks, with neatly trimmed grass in between each one. Exotic plants from every corner of the globe line the pathways, some of their flowers closed for the night. A fountain is in the middle, with water spouting out of the trumpet of a cherub statue. A few people surround the fountain, talking quietly with drinks in their hands in the low light.

You lean close to König and point at one of the people – a man in a navy suit. “That’s the target. Mister T. Kilgore.”

“So he is,” König says. He pats under his armpit, checking his sidearm. “We need to get moving. I do not like the way Laila’s husband was talking to her. Suspicious.”

You nod and send König a small smile. “We’re still going with the plan, right? I’m going in and playing drunk?”

“Of course.” König mirrors your smile even though you can’t see it. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to practice your conversation skills.”

You scoff, but you’re still smiling. “Yeah, if I’m planning on interacting with everybody as a drunk idiot for the rest of my life.”

“I’m serious!” König insists. “More likely than not, you’ll never see these people again.”

A beat of silence.

“You’re right.” You knock your elbow against König’s. “Let’s give them a show.”

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gaysindistress · 5 months

Text

Running from the Daylight - two

pairings: pirate!James “The Scourge of the Sea” Barnes x royal governor's daughter!reader

Summary: based on this request

Warnings: reader uses She/her/hers pronouns and is AFAB, mentions of the female body/parts, cursing, suggestive sexual content, violence and mentions of death, sexual content (p in v), some dark shit (like I can’t tag it without spoiling it but people get freaky over someone who’s bleeding) I'm actually awful at tagging things but there's smut. for the love of all things holy, do not read if you are a minor.

Word count: 3.6k

part one | my master list

Tag list: @talesofreading

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif, found on google/Pinterest/tumblr. Credits to @boltlightning for the gif on the bottom left & @owenhcrper for the gif on the bottom right

Begging, pleading, and sucking him dry did nothing to convince James that I’ve been ready to take his cock since that first night.

He would be a monster and allow me to believe that he would finally take me only to stop right before it went too far. He would give me hollow reasons like “the sea is too rough,” “you are too tired,” “we don’t have a proper bed and I will not take your maiden hood without one.”

Useless excuse after useless excuse was all I received for months on end. A part of me wondered if he was growing bored but when I confessed this to him, he spent the following several hours between my legs. He lapped and sucked at my core until I was crying and shaking but kept pulling climaxes from me until I very nearly passed out.

I tried to tempt him by wearing thin nightdresses or simply nothing at all but it all failed. I even convinced Natasha to play along with a scheme in which James would just so happen to find us in the middle of fucking but nothing. All he did was sit in his captain’s chair and watch with sharp eyes, occasionally telling us what to do.

Months of pent up frustration finally came to head when we docked in New Providence to replenish our supplies. My father had been overjoyed to see me again but his happy mood was as soiled when he observed the way that James and I were.

“My darling please tell me that he has not ruined you,” my father harshly whispers to me as he pulls me aside.

I gasp in disbelief and rip my arm away from him.

“Excuse me! You are not allowed to ask me such a thing!”

“I am your father, Y/N Stark. It is well within my rights to know if my daughter has been abused by a pirate.”

I catch the watchful eye of James as he’s instructing his crew and he gives me a concerned look. I brush it off and look back to my father.

“Your daughter has not been abused,” I sneer as I spot the Commodore approaching us, “I’ve been kept safe and protected.”

Steve makes a face at my words as he stops beside us but my father seems satisfied. He backs away and nods goodbye to us before retreating back to his fortress.

“You may speak freely with me; has the pirate lord abused you?”

“The only abuse to be had is that what my throat endures from taking his cock every night,” I calmly state before also leaving to find my captain. I don’t wait to hear or see Steve’s reaction but I can feel his piercing stare on my back.

“You said you wouldn’t fuck me until we had a proper bed,” I say lowly as I drop myself onto the canopied bed behind me, “and I think this meets that requirement.”

James narrows his bright eyes at me but doesn’t move from his place leaning against the raging fireplace. It’s odd seeing him look…normal? He’s out of place in this world of luxury and refinement but here in the room that I once called my own, he looks like he belongs. A part of me wishes to pretend that our pasts were different and that he had been the man who proposed to me, yearning for me for years. I wish that time had been kind to him and that it hadn’t stolen his heart and soul. I wish that I could’ve been the one he fell in love with all those years ago so he wouldn’t have had to face that curse. I wish we could delight in being together alone in my room at my father’s estate, a situation I would’ve blushed to even think about a few months ago. I wish we could ignore the reality of who we are and wholly engulf ourselves in the opportunity that presents itself.

“I did say that, didn’t I love?” He muses for a moment, allowing his eyes to trail down my barely covered body. I’d found an even thinner and smaller nightdress to wear for tonight, hoping that it might finally be what breaks him.

Maybe my last wish would come true.

He pushes off the mantle and prowls towards me. As he gets closer, my body starts to burn with anticipation and I inch back to accommodate his imposing stature. James knocks my legs apart with his knee and slots between them as he leans over me. Both hands cup my face and my eyes flutter closed at his warm touch. He dips down to whisper in my ear and chuckles when my breath hitches.

“You need sleep my love.”

I let out a snort, “no I do not. What I need is…”

He interrupts me with a gentle peck and mutters against my lips, “I know what you need and that is sleep.”

James presses another kiss to my lips with a subtle roll of his hips into mine while wearing a wicked smirk. I stick my tongue out at him as he pulls away and waits for me to settle into bed. He finds his place in the huge and ugly arm chair that my mother insisted I needed in front of the fireplace. His hat is sat on the small table beside him and his feet are kicked out in front of himself. Crossing his arms over his chest, James settles himself into the chair as if he’s going to sleep there and I frown at him.

“I can feel you thinking, love,” he quips and although I can’t see his face, I know there’s a smirk.

“Is that where you intend to sleep? In my armchair that I know is most certainly the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in this house?”

His shoulder shrugs and he makes a show of making himself comfortable with a loud sigh.

“It’s perfectly comfortable to me, your highness,” the jab at my upbringing doesn’t go unnoticed, not with the way he elongates the word and lowers his voice.

Scoffing, I throw a pillow at him and he chuckles when it flies past, missing him.

“Remind me to work on your aim in the morning,” he teases me before adding that I need to be going to sleep.

“We’re not on your ship anymore so you’re not my captain,” I snipe and that catches his attention. He perks up and goes to say something smart back but the doors fly open, slamming against the poor walls.

James stays seated albeit ready to jump up if needed. Seeing as he’s playing it cool, I do the same and remain tucked into my bed.

The person who dared interrupt our night is none other than the Commodore. He stands at his full height with a scroll in his hand as he glares at James.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of being granted your presence so late at night, commodore?” James mocks as he watches Steve.

The wigged man says nothing but sends a death glare towards the pirate before looking at me. He takes a step towards me and James makes a clicking noise, telling him to stay put.

“Y/N,” Steve starts as he ignores the subtle warning, “your father has found a way to free you from your deal with this vile creature.”

I glance around him at James who’s smirking to himself and raises one dark brow at me. He’s no longer stretched out like a cat but instead is leaning back against the chair with his head resting on his fist as he watches us.

Turning my attention back to Steve, I ask him to elaborate and elaborate he does.

“You were under duress. You cannot be expected to uphold a deal that you made when you were in fear for your life. Your father and I handled everything, Y/N, all you need to do is say that you were afraid for your life and otherwise would not have made the deal.”

In another life the gut wrenching way that Steve is pleading with me would’ve worked. I would’ve jumped up and ran for him, falling into his arms as I sobbed that I was afraid. I would’ve taken his hand and begged him to save me for the sake of being free from a pirate even if it meant being in debt to him for life.

That is if I hadn’t met James; the man who’s shown my unconditional and undying affection. The man that has sworn to protect me and honor me as if I were his ruling goddess. The man that has seen parts of me that no other man has and the man that I want to know every inch of me, mental and physical.

“Steve, ever the gentleman,” I coo as I push the blankets from my lap and slide off my bed.

“There is but one fault in your proposal,” I state as I softly pad toward the two men, “I was not under duress. I was not afraid for my life by any stretch of the imagination. I was not afraid at all, in fact, I felt the safest I had in years in that moment.”

I can feel the heat of James’ stare on me as I come to stand beside him and continue to tear Steve apart.

“If anything, I was concerned for your life but not afraid. I knew that James would not harm or otherwise act in a way that would scare me. I knew that he would agree to my terms but you,” I point at him and allow my voice to become more harsh, “you were the one I was afraid of. You’ve always been a liability, never quite knowing when you’re going to lash out on those around you. You’ve always freighted me and that night at the bar only solidified my fears that you would cause me harm. Even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you or went back with you that day on the Serpent’s Cry. Quite frankly, Steve, I’m perfectly content being bound to this vile creature.”

James snorts from behind me and wraps an arm around me, tugging me to sit on his lap. Steve is fuming, his face turning red with anger at my lecture and I know he’s plotting both of our demises.

The man beneath me grips my chin and tilts my head down so that he can capture my lips in a heated kiss. My hands fly to tangle into his hair as his tongue swipes at my bottom lip. A moan tumbles from me when the hand gripping my chin slides to cup the back of neck.

“Enough!” Steve’s voice rings out and he storms towards us to rip me away.

The familiar cock of a gun halts him and he frantically looks down to see a readied pistol pointing at him. It had been lying under James’ hat, hidden from plain sight so Steve had no chance to draw his open weapon.

James has the audacity to look bored as he holds the weapon and rubs small circles into my hip with his other hand.

“Out,” he orders in a low rumbling voice.

Steve, however, the oaf of a man takes another step forward and James rolls his eyes.

“Is pain the only way you learn, Commodore? Out before I shoot your cock off.”

Steve scoffs at the crude words and I stifle a giggle while tucking my face into James’ neck. He shudders slightly at the feeling and squeezes my hip.

“Y/N,” Steve tries to appeal to me but I’m not having any of it. I begin to plant wet kisses on James’ neck and nip at the soft skin occasionally. Steve calls to me again and I suck a deep red, nearly purple mark into the pirate’s neck which earns me a throaty groan.

A series of sounds ring out and I jolt away from my haven. First is the sound of Steve stepping forward, a gun shot, a cry of pain, and a thud as Steve falls to the ground. With wide eyes I try to look at him but James catches my face in a tight hold, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Don't look at him, love. Eyes on me, understood?” He whispers, letting his lips dance over mine and holding my eye contact with a fierce look swirling in his blue eyes.

I manage a small nod and he smiles at me before addressing Steve who’s clutching his leg.

“I warned you and you did not listen. As far as I’m concerned, you are to blame for the state of your leg. Now I suggest you drag your cowardly self out of this room before I do depart your cock from your body as I promised."

Lost in the way his eyes captive me and his words cause a fire to ignite in my body, I don’t hear Steve’s protests that break through the cries of pain. It’s not until James breaks our trance and rolls his eyes that I realize our situation. I still obey James and don’t look by hiding my face in his neck once again. He coos to me to go to my bed and turn away from them as he helps me stand.

“Keep your eyes on the ground for me,” he tells me when my hand slips from his and I cautiously make my way to my bed.

From behind me, I hear James let out an exaggerated sigh and the crackling of leather from him bending down.

“You’ve shot my leg, how am I to be expected to leave?” Steve hisses through the agonizing pain.

“Drag yourself like the worm you are. It's none of my concern how you choose to obey my command."

“I will not leave her alone with such a demonic savage like yourself.”

There’s a pause, a tension filled pause as I assume James debates what to do. However his next words are not exactly what I was expecting.

“Pain doesn't seem to be a strong enough deterrent for you, Commodore. Remember; you are to blame for your current situation,” he huffs as he yanks Steve up and drops him into the chair we’d been sitting in.

“Love hand me the sheet,” he says to me without looking.

I quickly bundle up the item he’s asking for and toss it to him. I want to ask what he’s planning but it becomes clear when he starts to wrap it around Steve.

“Since you refuse to leave her alone with such a demonic savage, as you put it so beautifully, you’ll have to watch her damnation.”

Steve lets out a roar of protest and it met with a pistol pressed under his jaw.

“You were told to leave and you did not. Seeing her defiled and ravished as she deserves is a fitting punishment. I think this is preferable to death but I am not the true judge. Love?”

The nickname catches me off guard and my eyes dart between them but it’s the stormy eyes of James that are given my full attention.

“What do you think? Should I grant him mercy and kill him before you take my cock? Or should he watch as I take what he's desired for years?"

As I fail to answer, James adds, "I will only do this if this is what you want. If not, I’m more than happy to show him just how acquainted with the devil I am.”

Words escape me and I just nod.

Apparently that’s not good enough.

“Use your words love. Tell us what you want.”

“I…fuck,” I mumble under my breath and James’ smirk spreads across his face. He knows that I want this, that I want nothing more than for him to finally take me even if it means Steve is forced to watch.

“I don’t think the Commodore heard you. Louder.”

“Yes. I want this. I want you. I want you to take me.”

James cocks a brow at Steve with a sinister smirk, “it appears that your pure angel wants me to defile her while you watch.”

The tied up man jerks forward with a threat on his lips and james lets out a terrifying laugh. He ignores the protests and calls me over with the hook of his finger. My body is trembling as I let my feet touch the ground and nearly stumble as I try to walk. Steve must think it’s out of fear but my captain knows it’s due to anticipation.

I stop at his side and James draws away from the injured man to wrap an arm around me. Pulling me in front of him, my back is to his chest and I’m facing Steve. James keeps his gun pointed at him while bending his head to my ear and whispering to me.

“You tell me when you want to stop, understood?“ he tells me in a voice so low I almost don’t hear him. When I don’t acknowledge his statement, he squeezes my hip with his free hand and repeats it.

Breathlessly I agree, “Yes, please James. I need you.”

He nudges my legs apart and drifts his hand from my hip to my core, pulling up my night dress in the process. My head lolls back, falling onto his shoulder and he captures my lips in a searing kiss. Moans and sighs fall without hesitation as he begins to run firm but slow circles into the bundle of nerves that only he can seem to find. His name becomes a chorus that is caught between our lips as the pressure builds within my core. He releases my lips and lets me sing my song for Steve to hear clearly. I feel him smile against my temple as I grow louder and louder. Just as I’m about reach my climax, he pulls his hand away and I nearly cry. A few tears leak from my eyes and he coos sweetly to me.

“Shhhhh love, I promised to defile you and I intend to do that. Lean forward and put your hands on his shoulders.”

“James,” I whimper when I feel him back away.

“Do as you’re told.”

The sounds of his belt and pants dropping silences me. I lean forward and with hazy eyes, look Steve straight on as my hands grip his shoulders. There’s a fire burning in his light eyes and I’ve come to know what it truly is. He can try to deny it but we all know watching me is causing him to grow hard and angry.

“Y/N,” his voice breaks as he whispers my name and I blink hard trying to look at him.

The heavy heat of James behind me distracts me and I drop my head at the feeling of him rutting against me.

He taunts Steve with cruel words as he drags the head of his cock through my folds and pulls wanton moans from my swollen lips.

“James,” I plead, “please.”

He coos mockingly as he lines himself up.

“Louder, my love. I don’t think your fiancé heard you.”

“He’s not my fiancé,” I grit out angrily but it falls flat when he pushes his entire length inside of me. It turns into a wince and pained moan but he doesn’t pull out. He keeps it there, watching me struggle with the pain that morphs into blinding pleasure. Only when I push back against him does he withdraws a few inches but keeps most of his length inside me as he starts to rock his hips into me. He’s slow and deliberate at first, focusing on pulling the loudest and most embarrassing moans he can from me but as his own body betrays him, his hips increase their pace.

Below me Steve is a mess. His breathing is ragged and the color is draining from his face as the blood loss becomes too much. I can’t bare to look at him and James must see that in the way I keep my head bent down. A sharp tug on my hair forces my head up and I see the devastation written lines on his face. The cold barrel on a gun rubs against my scalp and it dawns on me that the hand that’s in my hair is holding the gun. He grunts as he pumps his dick into me and I cry out as pleasure washes over me. He keeps one hand coiled into my hair as the other slips to my core, rubbing me and drawing my climax from me.

James tugs me up against his chest and I tilt my head back to rest against his shoulder as we continue to move against each other. His cock drags against my walls in a nearly painful way but I don't care. I’m pulsing around him and pleading with him to let go with me. As my eyes flutter shut from the white hot pleasure, he tugs my hair again and demands I look at Steve.

“Look at the Commodore, love. Look at what just watching you does to him,” he mumbles against the skin of my neck. My eyes are heavy and it’s a struggle to do as I’m told but I do and it earns me my climax.

James thrusts up hard one final time and we’re both moaning as I finish. He’s not far behind and groans out my name as he releases his hot seed into me. We’re a panting mess as he slows and eventually stops. He loosens his grip on my hair with a sweet kiss to my temple and whispers praise into my ear.

Intertwined in those sweet phrases is a promise and at first I think it’s for me. Only when the second shot of the night rings out do I realize that it was intended for Steve.

“I hope for your sake that your false god takes pity on you and allows you to die before morning.”

With that he tucks himself back into his pants and lifts me into his arms. My final memory of commodore will be blurred in pleasure and blood but I don’t care. He can bleed out for all I care after he dared to lay a hand on me and insult the man I love.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #running from the daylight bucky #pirate bucky x y/n #pirate bucky x you #pirate bucky imagine #pirate bucky x reader #pirate au #bucky smut #pirate Bucky smut #smut #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut

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soraviie · 1 year

Text

he begs to be taken back.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: angst, hurt/ some comfort ? a little bit of crack?? In this economy?

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ w/c: 9.1k, rip.

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: When hearing his pleading voice for the thousandth time, in the span of this one day only mind you, you slammed the phone on the desk with an irritated huff. The knowledge that people were still even capable of leaving voicemails had cost you dearly. For good measure, hurling the accursed device into the corner, you tightened the shawl around your neck, managed to grab onto the umbrella and lumbered out. Anywhere, to any direction and earth's current, if only you didn't have to think about him.

Recalling Namjoon, the grip on your handle tightened, making it produce a tortured groan.

"Shut up!" you barked at it. Rain pelted harshly on the world below, making it both difficult to see and walk. Rather detrimental to the whole thing to be outside. It took approximately 0.5s and 2 steps for your thoughts to begin curling around Namjoon. Who does he think he is? Does he think he's so unforgettable? Does he think he's some sort of God graced upon the world that you should take him back even after you tried so hard to erase him?! After you put all that hard work to return him back to the sea of strangeness and unfamiliarity?!

"Baby, baby, please, I beg of you, I am begging, just hear me out. Five minutes! Please, just five minutes!"

That was his last voicemail and chiefly the rest of them as well.

It was just five minutes... What were five minutes exactly? A little bit more than your favourite song. A scene in a movie. Passing. Fleeting. Just a slip in time...

No! No, no, no! Five minutes meant meeting his eyes, five minutes meant thousands of good memories, and five minutes meant remembering laying in his arms, reading a book together in quiet content. But Namjoon was gone. All of it was gone. It was down the drain just like this rain pooling around the sewer grates. Useless to remember, useless to yearn for. Just. Gone.

Shaking off the water onto the carpet inside the coffee shop, you were greeted by the pleasant ding of the gold-coated bell over your head and warmly smiling, you greeted the barista.

"One large coffee and a slice of marzipan cake for ____________. To go, please."

The scrape of the chair disturbed the previous mellow of the corner coffee shop with such vibrancy, not a soul was left unstirred. A tall figure, standing in the middle of the floor, gaping like a deer in headlights with mouth flopping open and closed like a fish.

You prayed he didn't see you.

But it was hard to believe given that Namjoon was staring right at you.

Without a moment's hesitation, you turned on the heel and ran into the rain, not even bothering to open up the umbrella again. The rain was cold and unforgiving, making you shudder in practically no time. Yes, it was the cold that made you tremble so.

"Baby! Baby! Please, wait!"

You could hear his voice travelling fast from behind, gaining much-unwanted attention. Namjoon's unfair genetic advantage that had granted him those very same legs you once drooled over, caught up with you in no time and soon enough you were forced to look at his grief-stricken visage. Seeing him up close, without the hindrance of anger and resentment, made your breath catch in your throat. It could hardly be believed you were ever together, given how beautiful he was. Despite his hair stuck to his forehead, bags so blue you'd think he was punched and, quite honestly, the smell he emitted, Namjoon was stunning.

Gorgeous Namjoon. Gorgeous...lying, arrogant, conceited douchebag of a scum!

"Baby," he leaned down to your face. "Baby, please, just listen!"

"I'm not your fucking baby," you screamed. "I told you we are done!"

Pushing past him, you tried to haul yourself away, only to be caught by an elbow.

"Unhand me, sir!"

A glitch of a faint smile appeared on his lips, only deepening your glare. Keeping arms firmly to himself, he began:

"I can't say how sorry I am."

"Then don't!"

"I can't live without you."

"Are you dying?" you scoffed, tossing him a pointed glower. "Right at this moment are you dying?"

Shit...he might just be. Those were definitely two different shoes on his feet.

"Might as well," he cried back. "Please, I'm going crazy! I need you back," you opened your mouth but Namjoon rushed faster. "And I understand I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. I understand all of that! But all the same, I'm begging. I'll do anything! Anything! I promise!"

"And how many things you promised before you broke them all?" you asked him trying to sound stern, uncaring but the eternal treachery of your voice betrayed you. You sounded hurt. Just as hurt as he appeared to be. "I will spend time with you, _____________. I would never blow you off like that, _____________. I will never make you feel jealous, ___________!"

You felt your bottom lip wobble whilst he stood like that in front of you - absolutely drenched, gaze lowered miserably at the ground.

"I know," he croaked. "I know I didn't treat you as well as I should have and I'm sorry. I was stupid. I thought...I took you for granted and didn't think that you could leave."

It took a whole half a minute for his words to settle and be recognized for all their meaning but once they did, you turned red from fury.

"You fucking arrogant asshole! Kim Namjoon, you're...You're!" failing to think of anything, you yelped out of frustration. Now people were definitely looking. Who did he think he was?! The man you loved?! The tall and gorgeous lover of your dreams who had dimples and spoke softly to animals and would rather go bike riding than flex the money he had with some dumb overpriced car?! Did he really think that being sorry could tempt you back to him?!

Doesn't it, a faint yet lingering voice whispered to the forefront of your mind.

"Please, if you don't want to listen, then don't," at last he quietly muttered. Chills racked your body upon hearing the quiver in his voice. He was actually crying. The strongest man you knew. Was crying. Over you, no less.

"Just please, read this," from the pocket of his jacket, he thrust a handful of papers at you. "And uhm don't toss it out and uhh just...remember I do love you."

With the long jacket flapping in the wind, he ran off, palm pressed to his mouth.

It was hard to see him like this. Especially considering you always assumed it'd be you who was the only broken one once the relationship had fizzled. Returning back home, now thoughtful and dragging your feet, you poured over the rain-distorted pages. Letters? Pages of a diary? Poems? It was hard to describe what you were reading but nonetheless, it was a strenuous read.

Namjoon had kept a chaotic but remarkably consistent journal that started with the first day you met. You never knew he had to work up the courage to speak to you for whole two weeks. You had merely assumed that the sly handsome idol had no business being shy. Reading about yourself made you blush and paradoxically understand Namjoon better than ever. He did love you. He still does if today's entry was anything to go by. This love overwhelms him

"Like an ocean in the hold of a single cup," he wrote. That night he'd been watching you sleep and had a panic attack, breaking down in the bathroom thinking of all the things that could go wrong.

"Why didn't you just wake me and talk?" you whispered at the pages, feeling the familiar sting of tears. You'd been tired from work, he wrote on the next page, he dared not to trouble you, dared not to ask too much, having in his mind done so already.

Having read that you snapped the book shut and after unlocking the phone wrote one concise message.

"Kim Namjoon, you're an idiot and I love you all too much."

YOONGI: Chapter Three. Paradise Lost. The words and the blinking cursor stared at you with open mockery. Ten whole minutes you sat here and couldn't think of a single word. How could you when you felt the weight of his gaze - lingering, smothering, flattering. Like you were the centre of his whole universe...

Violently you shook your head. Flattering. You were the centre of his whole universe. Lies. Meagre pillows of comfort, you shielded yourself with. You were not his anything, he had made it abundantly clear. Whatever this was...well, it was misguided all the same. You even managed to work up some anger. This was your place, your quiet solitude in the night, a beacon in whose light you could bask when the familiarity of your burrowed apartment was too much to bear. In this small night coffee shop, you could drown. You could forget all about him and yet here he was intruding upon the very sanctity he himself created the need for.

Reddening, you slammed your laptop shut, briefly meeting his gaze. Without shame or inhibition, he stared at you, long fingers twiddling with the cooling cup of black coffee. You knew he knew you knew and so on. Just two idiots both staring at each other without saying a word. With your head spinning from the implications, you stomped your way to the door, chin raised high. Whatever he wanted it was too late now. You hated him. Just like you said.

"I hate you, Min Yoongi!" you yelped, whipping around to tear your hand away from his, tears running down your face. Batting them harshly away, you let the poison out. It was strangely cathartic. As violent as it was there was some peace to be had in the raw honesty, finally fleeing into the aether.

Yoongi recoiled as though burnt, shock painting his features into something you'd not seen before.

"You don't mean that," he breathed weakly. "Please, don't say that."

"You're the worst thing that has ever happened to me! We're done! It's over!"

And alright maybe you didn't hate him. Maybe you still thought, weeks after you parted, did he eat anything at all today, was he tired, but in the face of your own wounded pride, it felt critical to be cruel. Repay his own, even if he hadn't meant it and maybe hadn't even seen it.

He was squirming in his red, upholstered seat; the closer you got, the more anxious he became, like a hamster realizing it was caught in a cage, he visibly flitted between various scenarios. You tried your best to not pay him any mind and continue your escape, out into the cold night. Alone, yes but with your ego preserved.

If that made anything better...

At last, just before you were past his booth, a warm yet roughened palm reached to encircle your wrist. Cautiously, as if he was frightened his own touch hurt.

"Please, don't leave..." fell broken out of his lips. Muffled behind the mask but still loud enough for you to hear. Grinding your teeth, you tried to recall every single night of disappointment. Every night that you cried yourself to sleep because he lied. He had lied when he said he'd be there for you.

"I don't want to hear it," you snapped but it sounded too uncertain; written on a prompt message that had flashed too fast for you to properly read.

"Please, just sit down. Let's talk... even if it's for the last time."

"Funny, you never wanted to talk before."

Yoongi cringed, his gaze darting to sit guilty on the dirtied table. Ah, there it was - the poison. It felt bad to be cruel; before at least it was the steady hand of rage that guided you towards being this person that you truly hated to be, but now...now, it just felt hollow.

Sitting down opposite him, you watched silently as he removed the mask. Kindly put, Yoongi looked like death warmed over.

"You look like shit," you reckoned and he gave a brittle, weary laugh, running a hand through the squished, clearly unwashed hair.

"Yeah, well, a living hell does that to a person."

"Don't exag-"

"I'm not," sternly, he shook his head, briefly closing his eyes as though carding through rows and rows of pain-filled memories. "I've barely slept, barely eaten anything since you left. I...I keep replaying those words in my head," he grasped at the roots of his hair, panting dejectedly at his lap. "I wanted to hate you. No one has ever broken my heart like this."

You scoffed, crossing your arms over chest. If you do this, it'll mean you won't shatter like fine glass.

"Then go on!" you urged. "Hate me! Loathe me! Curse my name and spit on any reminder of my existence!"

"I can't!" he cried out. "No matter how hard I try, I want you more than ever. I want to drag you away from your writing, I want to complain about the half-empty cups you leave across the house, I want to make you that stupid mac-and-cheese you love so much!"

Your breath stuttered.

"Yoongi -"

"I want you to be angry with me, I want you to nag me, I want to be annoyed," eyes shining with unshed tears, he continued to drop the words so fat you could barely make them apart anymore. "Want to wear your scrunchies around my wrist, want to make furniture for you, want to clean the shower because you hate doing it."

Then, he bowed his head, leaving you for the first time ever, utterly and properly speechless.

"Please, take me back. Let me come home to you."

"Music was your home," you argued but with his head still low, Yoongi disagreed.

"It's not anymore. It's just a house now. Just a roof over the head. I'm...I'm not the same as I was before and yes, it scared me, yes, I was a coward, yes, I ran away from you and you have the right to be angry!"

More than the guilt in them, you hated Yoongi's eyes. It was the first thing you notice about him when he was just a masked stranger asking to split the table in a busy cafe. Sitting across each other just like this, you remember being entranced by the way his feline eyes darted all over the place, subtly observing each life going in their own ways. You hated how much you had stared at him that day, so much so, the only thing written down was cat, cat, cat, cat, to appear as though you were working. You hated to remember how happy those eyes were when you finally mustered up the courage to show him your work and how they had squinted in noiseless laughter when he realized that the black cat guarding your main hero was just him reimagined as a feline.

There was so much to be hated about Min Yoongi...so why you couldn't do it?

"Let me crawl back home to you."

"What of your precious pride?" you tried to hiss but it came out like a genuine question.

"It's meaningless," he murmured. "What pride is there to sit staring at the wall, whole days and nights passing by. So, please, take me back. I'll do everything you ask just please, let me be your home again."

"My home?" you echoed, faintly.

"You'll always be mine even if you're gone."

JIN: The greeting got stuck in your throat like a bite of a dry chicken. Grazing just down the windpipe, making it impossible to speak. The sight of him standing there, over the sink of your childhood home, washing dishes of all things and shifting anxiously from one foot to another, was enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

"Hello! Oh, ___________!" your mother chastised. "Why didn't you tell me you had such a lovely fiance?"

Your gaze fixated numbly on Jin. On his stupid face, on his stupid curls on that stupid jumper you gifted him on the first birthday you'd been there to celebrate.

Jin had been many firsts and most of all the first man you failed to get rid of the second things were off. He was like a rash on the butt, definitely nothing more complimentary - an annoying thing making it impossible to live, to have a peaceful breather. He was always there, reminding you that he did exist, making you miserable.

"Fiance?" dumbly, you echoed, too taken aback to even be angry. Being with Jin was another life, one you left behind at that; to see him here was as jarring as having a tree fall on top of your head.

"Yes, he arrived here late at night, yesterday," your mother continued to chatter on, oblivious to the lingering tension. "Introduced him all proper, asked for my blessing, helped me to lug in the Christmas tree this morning. Didn't you, Seokjinnie?"

If the red ears were anything to go by, then your mother had put him through Machiavellian levels of mortification for many consecutive hours now. So why was he here?

Meeting his gaze you wanted to ask just that.

Why are you here? What was this charade all about?

"I see," you, stated flatly. "I'll put my things away."

Quickly, you brushed past him to your bedroom, hearing a vague -

"Seokjin, dry your hands! Don't run off all dripping wet."

"Sorry, ma'am."

- coming from behind. Slamming the doors, you were unsurprised to find Jin's things already waiting for you there, having invaded this corner of your life that he had no business being in. He wasn't anything to you anymore. Just a stranger returned back to the tides of faceless crowds from which he emerged in a moment of delirious, star-stricken fancy. That's all that ever was to it. That's all you ever were to him, just a fleeting fancy he got caught up in too eagerly. The familiar ball and chain that everyone complained about were not as sturdy as they made it seem, engagements could be called off, relationships torn apart and hearts broken with the same ease it took to dust off a jacket.

"________________! Come decorate the tree!"

Languidly, you put one bauble around the piercing branches, ignoring the swelter of his lingering glance. At last, when he'd been drilling in the back of our head for so long you could swear it physically gave you a fever, you hissed surreptitiously at him, pretending to smile so your mother wouldn't have to know of how her precious Seokjinnie was by far the last person on the planet you wanted to speak with.

"How dare you come here," you accused him and he withered, hearing the sheer vitriol in your voice. "How dare you tell her you're my fiance? When we're done?!"

Jin frowned at the tree, haphazardly shoving the silver-coated balls on the needles.

"Please, we can't be done," he replied. "Let's just talk it out, okay?"

"I don't want to talk it out! If me leaving Seoul was not abundantly clear."

"You still kept the ring."

"Oh my god, is that what it's all about? The ring?" you yanked at the chain around your neck. Perhaps you shouldn't have kept it at all but it was an antique family heirloom and by the time you realized it was still around your neck, having grown so used to it, the jewellery felt like a natural part of your body, and the plane had already landed. "Here, you can have it!"

"Don't you dare," he growled, squeezing your palm to be still before falling quiet as your mother entered the living room. Jin was still wearing his own ring, it glistened around his finger in the sparkling Christmas lights.

Your mother's eyes darted between the two of you, clearly confused over the fraught expressions you both wore.

"Seokjin, do you mind helping me with the bean sprouts?"

Hell-bent on playing the role of the perfect upcoming son-in-law, Jin could only nod with a tight smile, unwillingly letting his hand drop.

"Be right there," nasally, he promised and dragged his feet towards the kitchen. As your hands trembled, one of the baubles fell onto the floor. In what seemed like slow motion, you watched it fly through the air, determinately swinging towards its own destruction and then shatter, shards flinging all over the hardwood floor.

"_____________, don't," Jin cried out but you didn't listen, squatting down to pick it up. Just as expected the tremors in your hands though small were enough for the sharpened edge to ungainly scrape against the skin, slicing it open.

Suddenly, it all felt too much and with tears threatening to burst, you ran outside the door, into the sobering winter where nothing was happy enough to pour any more bitterness into your heart. Unlike the ever-present bustle, your home was quiet. It lay on the edge of an unfarmed field with nary neighbours around. It was frighteningly quiet but soothing in a fevered moment such as this. Coming to a stop by an old shed, one you used to sneak cigarettes with a couple of friends in a reckless youth, you leaned against it and panted into the bristling cold. Clumps of snow fell lazily from the sky. Without hurry, completely careless. You yearned for that kind of serenity.

Hearing the crunch of the snow, you glimpsed around the corner, watching as Jin fell face-first into the thick snow, cursing as he did so. You almost laughed at the sight, only to remember that you promised to never, ever see him again.

He found you with relative ease, there was nothing else in the snowed-in field anyhow and he peered down at you with storming judgement.

"What are you doing running out in this weather?" he scolded, throwing a jacket over your shoulders.

"You have no right to reprimand me," you grumbled but he didn't listen and instead reached to examine the small cut on your finger, fishing a band-aid from the pocket of his jeans. Quietly you watched his brows furrow in concentration, treating this scrape as vitally as one would a heart surgery. Circling the band-aid around your finger, he breathed a soft:

"There we go," and pressed your palm against his cold lips.

"Jin -"

"I want you to take me back," he stated honestly, leaving another kiss, this time higher up the arm. "Yell at me if you need to, curse me out in front of your mother if you want to but please take me back."

"Your family -"

"I explained either me and you or no one at all," he murmured, slowly inching upwards and on instinct, your eyes closed, when tepidly he kissed your neck. "I was wrong for not saying so in the first place but now it's clear. If they love me, they'll accept you."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll move here if I must," he grunted, lightly breezing past your chin. Your fingers dug into that stupid green sweater. In the monochrome grey of a desolate winter, it stood out like a blood-curdling scream.

Graceless, he walked with you backwards, pinning you to the broken shed. You felt its wet cold seep through the clothing.

You should really slap this bastard and yet when he kissed you, you moaned, eyes popping wide open. The Jin you knew would never do this - he wouldn't press you up against a wall, so needy, so assured, he wouldn't fly out into the middle of nowhere and charm your mother.

"Have you gone insane?" you whispered, pushing him away and yet he refused to budge more than two centimetres. When he exhaled, you could feel the warmth on your face.

"Quite possibly," Jin nodded, chasing your lips, the glimpse in his eye almost look crazed, desperate - without a doubt. "Please, I'll do anything for you. Take me back and I'll build a home for you. Be it Seoul, here, or anywhere you like."

"You wouldn't be happy outside of home."

"You are my home," he twirled the ring between his fingers, enveloping you in his embrace as you shuddered from the cold. "And won't let anyone ruin that."

HOSEOK: He darted from the seat, the second you were escorted into the private room. Gentle music and easy conversation swayed in the background, illuminated by the soft romantic lights of numerous candles adorning the white-clothed tables which you imagined looked much like the one Hoseok had sat by just a second ago. Tugging at your clothes, you couldn't help but flush from embarrassment. You were so clearly from a different tax bracket but carding through the closet, the best clothes you found were his. His presents to be exact, however, after everything that happened, it felt wrong. Showcasing his numerous gifts on you would just give the wrong kind of signal - that you were still his and that...You weren't anymore. That should be the end of that. Even if he clearly had something to say against it.

"___________," he gasped, appearing shocked. "Thank you for coming."

You waited for the server to leave, and only then you spoke. Calm, collected, without any emotion. You'd been practising the entire week now. But standing in front of a mirror and gazing at it with soul-sapped eyes was not the same as standing in front of the love of your life and keep insisting that it was all over.

"You hardly gave me a choice," you shrugged. "You hounded my co-workers, friends, landlord, my parents, Hoseok. My parents."

He cringed, biting on his lip.

"I know," Hoseok drawled guiltily. "But I was...I was desperate. You were just gone and I was going crazy."

With a sigh, silence settled between you.

"I believe fifteen minutes is what you asked for," you sat down, firmly rejecting his feeble attempts to pull out your chair. "So fifteen minutes is what you're going to get."

"Thank you," he bowed, quickly rushing to sit in front of you. "You're too gracious."

"That I am," you murmured, taking a long sip from the wine glass. Some couldn't hurt. Maybe even a lot. After all, he'd hurt you enough, no amount of alcohol could deal that kind of damage. Whether or not he'd heard you, you couldn't tell, either way, he ignored the remark.

Exhaling, a nerve-riddled breath, he fixed the lapels of his suit jacket and after fixating you with a firm gaze, said:

"I beg of you to take me back."

The wine splattered all over the white tablecloth. Feeling it drip unhandsomely down your chin, you reached for a napkin but Hoseok was quicker. He wiped the wine away, letting his fingers graze past your lips. Your heart hammered and h you wished that it would be from indignance.

"You can't be serious!"

"I am."

From the look in his eye, he really was not lying. That sort of cutthroat determination you'd seen on him only once - when he was dancing and trying to beat someone or something. The difference between the smiling, jovial man who asked you out on a date and that one was so startling it took you whole two business days to get over.

Hoseok was like a box of chocolates with the labels all crossed out. You could reach for one candy, expecting a sour tangy filling, of rum, perhaps, or a lemon zest and be met in the end by the sweetness of dripping caramel. It was fun for a while, it kept you on your toes and then...then it was less fun when you realized you never really knew the man you were with. When you couldn't reach for him on the saddest of days and expect assuredness of a well-rehearsed answer. He was always different and what you got, in the end, was no more than just a repainted mask he wielded against everyone else. Chocolates were good and fun but they couldn't substitute meals and expensive presents couldn't buy true love.

"________________, please, take m-"

"Hors d' oeuvres are served," the waiter, literally having spawned out of thin air, stated. Hoseok pulled away, jaw clenching in annoyance. "Tzaziki Shrimp Cucumber Rounds. Enjoy!"

"Thank you," you bid the waiter thinly. When the doors closed behind him, another pause of stilted silence lingered in the air.

"I know I'm asking much," Hoseok began but with a furious shake of the head, you interrupted.

"You're asking the impossible, Hoseok! What even? How did you? I mean, what?" stumbling, upon the words, you suppressed the deceitful sting in the corners of your eyes. "You're just saying these things because you know I'm weak."

"You're not weak!" he argued with a furrowed brow. "Don't you ever say such a thing about yourself!"

"Then why are you asking - "

"Because I love you!"

Your head quirked to gaze at him. Defeated, Hoseok sighed.

"I love you. Madly, utterly, completely. I was shit at showing it and I know you have every right to be mad at me. These past few weeks..." he trembled, glimpsing to the side. "Have been an honest hell. I hate myself for making you feel -"

"Cheap?" you finished, voice quivering. "Like I could be bought?"

"Yes," he swallowed in regret. "I can never fully undo the damage or express how sorry I am enough. But I do love you. I've never loved anyone like I do you," capturing your fingers in his, he continued. "I promise I will learn, I'll listen, I'll do anything you ask of me but, please, let me love you, let me cherish you, let us grow old together. There's a future for us, I know I crave it but so must -"

"You guys enjoying your food?"

This time a scream physically tore from your chest as unexpectedly a third figure simply manifested without any warning beforehand. Hoseok's grasp on your palm tightened and so did his jaw.

"What's your name?" he inquired the waiter, not letting his gaze stray away from your face. Not even a little bit.

"Jae!"

"Jae, do yourself a favour and get lost."

"Okay!" With a hollow smile, Jae scurried through the doors. The third and final bout of silence began.

"I can't be here anymore," you spluttered, detaching your hand from his. It wasn't surgically tied together, so why, why did it hurt so much?

"______________," Hoseok whimpered. In his mouth, your name sounded like a benediction. You couldn't stand to hear so much...love in his voice. Telling yourself he'd never loved you was the only dam that prevented you from crying one lonely night after the next. With the restaurant turning into a blur of cream colours, you rushed out into the street, maniacally looking for any escape. A bus stopped near and you ran towards it, uncaring about where it took you as long as it was far, far away.

You caught a glimpse of Hoseok chasing after you, despairingly trying to find you in the pandemonium that was a Friday evening in a well-known district. Over and over again, he traced every car and window but as you had ducked out of the sight, he couldn't do so, no matter the effort. When the bus rolled away, you saw his shoulders drop, and after pressing a palm over his mouth, he simply sobbed right there in the middle of the otherwise joyful crowd.

JIMIN: Anyone has had those times in their life, right? When you'd done something crazy, something you could only gape at from this point of view, wondering what the hell were you thinking. It didn't even feel like a part of your life at most times, merely a scandalous story you'd imagined, not lived through. You were happy to say that after three months, it had finally come to the point where you could delude yourself into thinking it had not been real. It did not feel real anyhow. Returning back to normalcy had sapped any credibility of the various memories bubbling right underneath your skin. On good days, you thought of Jimin only once, in passing, and then you lived your life. On bad days, however...on bad days you'd be plagued by his visage on every billboard and poster in the city, every radio would have his voice singing, and every innocuous google search would somehow end up in compilations of his laughter. You feared to remember and feared to forget it. But no matter how bad the days were before, it was nothing compared to the clammy dread pulsating with every one of your heartbeats.

"How do you even know who I am?" you licked at your dry lips, questioning if this too was even real. The time on the clock showed 3:26 am and on the phone, with you, there was Kim Namjoon.

"Jimin stares at your pictures all the time. He also mutters your name. In his sleep."

That... that can not be true.

"I...I don't -"

"Listen, __________, frankly, I don't quite know who exactly you are to Jimin or what even happened, I just know that he is spiralling. He's drinking every moment he gets, he doesn't eat, and he sleeps only when he can't stand upright anymore. The only time he's calm is when he's staring at your picture."

You lean into your duvet, feeling much like crying yourself.

"I realize you are not obligated to help him," Namjoon continues, much softer. "But please, I am scared for him and if he meant anything to you, just please, talk to him at least one last time."

This is not real. This is not real, keeps running through your mind as you board the plane, as it takes hours to go back to the one place you thought you'd be done with forever and climb onto the once familiar elevator. Your life is once again a dream. Or a nightmare. Yeah, that felt like it.

When you climbed out onto Jimin's floor, you were horrifically met by Namjoon and Taehyung, both of whom stared at you as though you were a mythical creature, ripped out of the pages of a long-lost fantasy book.

"He's in there," curtly, Namjoon tossed a head towards the doors, dragging gaping Taehyung with him. "We'll give you some room."

You nodded in compliance, pushing open the doors with a bated breath. Dusk had settled deep over the rooms and the air was stuffed full with the stench of alcohol. You wandered quietly through the apartment until at last you stumbled upon a crumpled figure wrapped haphazardly underneath a pile of blankets.

"Jimin?" you called out cautiously and the pile wobbled until a messy head poked through. His eyes were swollen, clearly having been crying for most if not the whole day, and dry spit clung to the corner of his mouth. He squinted at you standing in the middle of his bedroom.

"Go away," he grumbled and turned away.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

At the sound of your booming voice, he jolted, gripping the sides of his head.

"How dare you behave this way? How dare you degrade yourself to this level?!"

Blinking blearily, Jimin whimpered:

"___________________? Is it really you?"

"Who else could it possibly be?" you scoffed and he hiccuped, shamefully looking at the floor.

"Dunno...when I drink enough, I see you around."

You cringed, hearing this. No wonder, Namjoon said he was scared.

"And do I yell at you also?"

"No, you just say you hate me."

"I don't hate you," you sighed and Jimin's head whipped up so fast, you swore there was a crack.

"Then take me back," he fought with the sheets, to crawl out of the bed, one leg stuck in his trousers. "Take me back, please!"

"Have you no shame? No dignity left?" you wondered aloud, seeing him on his knees, still drunk most likely.

"I don't need dignity," he cried out. "I don't need pride. I just need you back. I need you," he swayed back and forth, growing hysteric. "You're the love of my life!"

"Don't say that when you're drunk," you snapped, willing yourself to treat him fairly. You'd coddled him before and it was at the expense of your own heart. Not this time. Not even when you wanted so bad it hurt. "They're just lies."

"They're not lies!"

"Well, I still don't believe you! Do you really think by ruining yourself you're making me love you more?! Do you really think that being pitiful is enough to earn my forgiveness?"

He choked back a sob, batting at his wet cheeks.

"I know you hate me..."

"I don't hate you! Why do you always think in extremes?! I'm disappointed! I'm angry! Get your fucking shit together, for God's sake, Jimin! I want you to respect me and respect yourself and not do whatever this is because this," harshly, you gestured over his crouched figure, trembling in the cold air of his messed up apartment. "This is not cute. It's terrifying!"

Perhaps you'd been too harsh but either way, Namjoon thanked you once a week passed and Jimin had returned to some form of normalcy.

Either way, it all began to feel like a dream again once you left, gazing at Seoul through the airplane window, how it shrank smaller and smaller until it disappeared entirely. Along with Park Jimin somewhere in it. Dragging your feet into the unmade bed, like the week abroad simply didn't exist, you sighed and numbly looked around. The unnamed feeling that had plagued you for months finally had a name. This was a house, it didn't feel like a home. Home was Jimin's apartment, his stupid kitchen and stupid dishtowels, his stupid gallons of beauty products and his stupid Chelsea boots he'd bought too much of. But you left him in Seoul. It's not like he'll chase you and beg again. Who would even do that? You suspected no one would. Who could possibly love you that much to not only abandon all their principles once but twice?

At a quiet ring of a doorbell, you groaned. Another cat missing?

Dejectedly, you shuffled to the front door, throwing it open and then feeling a stiff weight settle on top of you, enveloping their arms around you like a greedy spider.

You blinked at the ceiling, smelling the all-too-familiar perfume and the gentle, airy voice that came with it.

"Please, take me back."

TAEHYUNG: "Please, take me back."

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't care."

The small crowd gasped when he dropped onto his knees, bowing in front of you.

"Have you lost your mind?!" you hissed, trying to drag him up. "Have you no pride left? No sense of shame?!"

It was maybe seconds, seconds until someone recognized him if they haven't done so already.

"No," he replied, muttering at the snow-covered ground. "I have no need for them if only you'll come back."

You didn't know why it was always winter when Taehyung was involved. You met in winter, you broke up in winter, he cried for you to come back in winter and you rejected him during that same winter. A year had passed and once more the ground was dusted with white snow, etching cold breaths into the air. There were no calls anymore, no more texts begging to just talk, to see you one last time. Even the one inquiry about whether or not you wanted your stuff was left on read.

Served him right, the logical part of your brain sneered. He'd hurt you, this was merely a taste of his own medicine. If only this self-righteousness would make you happy.

Walking past his billboards plastered towering and unattainable over the hustle of streets below, you couldn't help but linger, staring at his soft smile, promising the release of his album in a week's time. What a strange date. It was the same one you met it. It was fake, you could tell. His smile that is. When Taehyung smiled for real it inspired others to do the same, not walk past him, uncaring. You wondered where he was...a whole year had passed since he begged you on the knees...

"I'm right here," a deep voice spoke against the shell of your ear and you yelped, turning around. His hand shot out to steady you against the slippery pavement, keeping it around the padded material of your jacket for far longer than necessary. You decided not to remark upon it, selfishly absorbing this scrap. Where was your own dignity?

The little part of his face that you could see was wholly indecipherable, the only feature you could make out through the falling snow and his mask, were the dark of his eyes, staring fixedly at you.

"Hello," you breathed faintly.

"Hello."

You'd forgotten just how warm his voice was.

"Have you been doing well?" he asked, ignoring the mass of people trying to squeeze past you, grumbling in annoyance.

"...yes," you lied. "You?"

"No," he answered honestly, before adding softly. "I miss you."

"Taehyung -"

"I'm not going to lie, ____________," he shrugged. "I've been doing awful since you left. I still love you. What more is there to say?"

Your eyes flitted down at the familiar red around his neck.

"Is that my scarf?" you pointed out and he glanced down at it.

"Yes, it is," he drawled simply. "I found it among your old stuff. I've been wearing it ever since. It's lost your scent now," he sighed ruefully before sobering up. "Is that a creepy thing to say?"

"I -" you stammered. "I don't quite know."

He hummed.

"I saw you're about to release your album," you began, swaying awkwardly on the heels. You know you rejected him but...but couldn't you also want to see him? Let the faceless crowds of judgment ridicule you for your indecisiveness but you had shared a life together with Taehyung, seeing him, just like the first time you met, in the winter, made your heart ache with longing.

"I can send it over for you to listen," he casually suggested. "You might find it interesting."

"Oh," you dragged. "Don't you have strict protocols about that sort of thing?"

"I don't care," he stated. "It's my album, my heart, if I want to give it to you I will. Even if..." he trailed off, finally removing the hand that had been squeezing yours all this time. "Even if you don't want anything to do with it anymore."

When you saw him turn and leave, you floundered, but couldn't think of anything worthwhile to say. Nothing meaningful, nothing...honest. Brutal, bold honesty was always his forte, yours was to pretend.

"I haven't changed my address!" you called out after him. "I still live -"

"I know," Taehyung replied, glancing over his shoulder, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his brown coat. "I remember."

When the postman knocked on your door with the package marked as from KTH, it took all your courage to unwrap the blue ribbon, it may have taken it a bottle or two to even put the CD and listen. A card sat attached to the plastic case.

To my only angel, I loved you yesterday, love you today, and will love you tomorrow. Forever Yours, Kim Taehyung. It had dragged a deeply ugly sound from your throat - something between a wrecked sob and snorting laughter. As if you didn't know who he was.

The album itself was deeply melancholic, something one would expect of Taehyung but this was different. How you could not say, it just was. There was almost an anxious feeling about it. It seemed to weave through the various melodies like a thread across different-sized buttons. It wasn't until the last track which ended almost on a note of a piercing scream did you put together the pieces of the puzzle why it all seemed so familiar.

To my angel,

I always believed you were in the far, far sky

Turns out you're the face next to me

And in all that ever was or is meant to be,

I'd give anything to hear your dry, dry sigh

I know what you're going to say

It's been a year, you fool

But if only you gave me a chance you would see

A year, ten, twenty?

Means no difference to me,

My lonely angel.

Here it all was, the life you lived together, the life he lived after parting, all displayed in neatly aligned 12 tracks, meaning nothing to anyone and yet bearing everything to you. Each opaque reference lyricists would brush off as wordplay were snapshots of a mourned past. You had to...You had to find him. With a sudden urgency, you felt your body tremble, seized by this one, unshakeable impulse. You had to find him. To do what exactly? Who knows. But you couldn't sit here this night alone. Jumping on one foot, you got a boot over your foot and a scarf over your neck, yet when you yanked open the doors, there he already stood, hand raised, prepared to knock.

"Hello," you breathed faintly.

"Hello," he greeted and then to your shock, surprise and heartbreak, sunk to his knees, peering up at you, both solemn and terrified out of his mind. "Take me back?

JUNGKOOK: "That guy is staring at me."

"No, he's not. Shut up and eat your food."

Your date pouted unkindly.

"You're mean and bossy," he complained. "I'm not asking you out ever again."

"I'm practically bursting into tears," dryly, you retorted, taking a long drag of the shitty white whine he'd ordered. "Keep smiling, Jack, lest you want that guy to fashion you into a skin suit."

"My name is Jake."

"Hmmm whatever."

As you met gazes with the shadowy figure sitting and glaring pure hellfire from the corner of the restaurant, you wanted to cry. Laugh? Both? It was hard to say. But either way, Jungkook was a fucking dick who made your life a living hell. It was supposed to end with you victorious, slamming a door into his stupid nose, you were meant to walk away from this whole mess with your head held high, ego unbruised and heart absolutely detached. Or at least that's the promise you made until you saw the intense brown of his eyes, tracking your every move. He was absolutely full of his own shit.

By now you knew what he wanted, what was running through that fantastically mangled piece of meat he called a brain. He wanted to be taken back - into your bed, into your arms, into your home. Like a skinned mole, he'd burrowed his sneaky way into those forbidden places, with his stupid Elmo laugh, his golden heart and his...well, it all had made you a little bit stupid. It all had made your hand shove away all concerns and throw yourself head first into what must have been the most torrent love affair this side of the globe.

You knew every dirty part of his, the flaws he was so deathly afraid of showing, the embarrassment he'd rather first chew his own tongue off instead of revealing; in your hands, he'd bloomed like a beautiful flower and despite his mountain of problems, you still want him.

Wanted him, you amended in your mind, you wanted him, now you don't. Case closed. Pinatas for all.

But if you knew Jungkook down to every sinewy muscle and vein, so did he. He knew from the first meeting of your eyes that you didn't want to be here, you'd dragged yourself out here to be with Jacklyn, kicking and screaming, with the sole goal of fruitlessly showing yourself you could live on after every man had been ruined by this dopey kangaroo.

He knew that just beneath the tongue you were itching to get back with him, to go on those ridiculous dog playdates, to have him bouncing around the room, trying to dance all sexy only for his oversized clothes to remind you too keenly of a flag rather than a human. He knew you wanted to press your face into that chest, drag him down on top of you by his body chain, and be annoyed when he wouldn't fucking stop bumping into you.

But damned if you ever admit that out loud.

Too preoccupied with various musings of intimacy, you failed to see Jungkook grab an apple, draw his hand back like a bow and launch the apple at Jacob's head.

Falling on the floor, your brave date muttered "fuck this" and scrambled off.

All too smoothly, Jungkook took the now free seat.

"Hey, babe," he said, winking. "Missed me?"

"Fuck you!"

Storming off, you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself to protect yourself from the harsh wind but fuck all it did and fuck all your legs did against the fresno nightwalker known as Jungkook. It took five maybe six long strides for him to be right up in your face.

"Baby, let's just talk about this."

"Fuck you!"

"I'm so so sorry, I was wrong, you were right; always are. I bow my head in shame."

"Fuck you!"

His expression tightened, lips pursing in annoyance.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

Another date. Another day. Another time your gaze trailed to Jungkook, waving at you from the bar.

"You're really beautiful," the new date choked out. "T-Though I can't help but feel you're not listening to me at all."

Your gaze darted to sit guiltily upon the tablecloth. Averys was a good guy, he'd been nice, just all right and yet...yet it was not enough. And you knew that. And Jungkook knew that. And it was all so very annoying.

"Listen, Alec, you're cute, I'm just in a...weird situationship."

"My name's Alex."

"Oh," your mouth popped open and against your will you found Jungkook's eyes, staring at you with this longing across the floor. "My bad."

"Does he make you laugh?"Jungkook's arm wrapped possessively around your waist, pushing you into his chest when you tried to escape him after Alex had left, leaving you alone against Jungkook in the middle of the street. "Does he make you cum?"

"You're vulgar!" you snapped.

"So, does he?"

"No, but at least," your lip wobbled and from the sheer shock of seeing your tears, Jungkook's grip loosened. "A-At least he doesn't make me cry."

Scuffing your shoes against the gravel ground, disinterestedly you swayed on the rusty swing, hearing it screech painfully with every movement. Somehow you could relate to that sound. There was no one for you but Jungkook but he was...he also was not an option. Not anymore. Like your relationship it'd been funny at first and then it stopped. It stopped being funny when the time came to be serious, to take responsibility and he just couldn't do that.

Wiping away your tears, you jolted when someone sat beside you. Jungkook, gazing mournfully at the ground, echoed the same pitiful swinging, having no more energy to put behind it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I never did."

"But you still did," you pointed out and he nodded sadly.

"I still did."

Sigh.

"Nothing I ever say will make it enough, right?" he clarified, reaching to gently hold your hand as you swing. "You won't believe it."

"Promises are just words," you sniffled. "Everyone says words. Most don't mean a thing with them."

"But actions speak louder than words, don't they?"

With your hand in his, it felt right but no matter how good it was, it didn't change the fact he disappeared. With a postcard in the mail, he disappeared, leaving nothing but "one day you and I will love again."

And five years passed. Five years - you're a new person, it's an all-new world, everything has changed but your heart fluttering, stumbling drunkenly in your chest remained all the same. When you opened the door Jungkook gasped, face partially hidden behind the flowers. He was changed as well, with hair much longer, tattoos covering his arm, and piercings littered across his face yet his eyes were the same and the way they stared at you brought you all those years back - when you've felt the most wanted in your entire life.

"_______________," he breathed like a prayer. "Can I come in?"

Mutely, you nodded, failing to grasp both your voice and reasons why this was a very, very bad idea. Twirling around, his eyes flitted between your private pieces, the bits of your heart displayed all around the temporary home. Every home had been temporary since him but such a thing should never be spoken aloud.

"What are you doing here?" tiredly, you asked and Jungkook reached to hand you a paper. Squinting at it you read, growing confused, messed up, teary and frightened all at the same time.

"Due to the client's personal wishes, ____________ ____________ is criminally and lawfully free of any non-disclosure agreement made between ___________ _________, the client and Hybe/Bighit Entertainment. ____________ _________ is hereby granted public and private freedom to discuss any and all information about the client. The client has been made aware of all pertaining possibilities of such an act and has consented to have this statement be signed and all of its subsequent consequences."

With the paper shuddering in your hands, you peered at him.

"Actions speak louder than words, right?" Jungkook chuckled nervously, scratching at the nape of his neck

"Why would you do such a thing?!" you yelped. " I could...I could destroy you!"

Yet he merely shrugged.

"Why not? I'm already ruined without you," his expression darkened, a frown marring the lovely features. "Five years had passed and not a day hasn't gone by without me thinking of you. You don't know how long I've stared at your pictures with Alex and wished that it was me," he sighed. "How many nights have I cried myself to sleep, praying I could just get five minutes with you."

"Don't say that."

"It's true."

After a moment of silence, you spoke faintly:

"We broke up. Alex and I."

"I know," Jungkook nodded thoughtfully. "I saw you get together and waited."

"What if we hadn't broken up?" you whispered, not noticing that he'd taken a step closer. Those damn eyes of his always entranced you. "What if we got married?"

"I'd still wait for you," he mumbled, glaring at his shoes. "I'd wait for you my whole life. When I left, I realized I needed to grow up. For you. So I did all I could and when you...when you were with him...well, I didn't want to make life hard for you. Didn't dare to make you cry again. I was good," his voice quivered. "I was really good for you, baby. All grown up now. So, please, if you can, take me back. I'll be good, I promise."

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ladychota · 9 months

Text

What You'd Do

Pairing - Loki x Reader

Warnings - Fluff, potion spiking, slight angst (lmk if you want me to add anything)

Summary - Loki's been spiking your tea with a love potion.

Word Count - 900

A/N - Inspired by a post I saw on Pinterest

You've known for a while.

Everyday, he offers you tea. Everyday, it contains that same bitter tanginess that makes the world spin around you. Everyday, your feelings for him are heightened to the point where it's on the verge of hurting.

Why?

Why does he do it?

"Morning, Y/n," Loki greets as he walks into the kitchen.

You don't reply, the after effects from yesterday's dose of potion pounding at your head and screaming to be set free.

He walks into the room, a cup of tea cradled in his hands; it's no doubt spiked with the concoction he brews each night.

"Are you alright?" He asks, setting the drink down on the table in front of you. "I made you some tea,"

Still, you stay silent, your head turned to face the window, watching as raindrops splatter on the pane and race each other to the bottom.

"Y/n?"

His voice is etched with worry, each word hitting you as if he's throwing rocks. You didn't want to confront him for a while longer - you wanted to see if he'd finally do something - but you've had enough. This has to end.

"You forced me to love you," You reply quietly. You have so much more you want to say, but each word seems to disappear on your tongue. You see Loki take a step back out of the corner of your eye.

"You... you know?"

You scoff, finally turning to look at his bewildered face. "I've known for a while now,"

Loki tries to speak again, but clumsily stumbles over his words. He's clearly incredibly flustered; the God with the silver tongue never has trouble speaking. "And... and you kept drinking it?"

"I wanted to see what you'd do,"

Perhaps that's the thing that hurts the most. Not the fact he made you drink a love potion. Not the fact he didn't tell you. But the fact he never did anything with it.

It's almost as if he wants you to suffer.

He wants you to love him; to yearn for him. He wants you to hurt with the after effects, drink another dose then hurt again. He wants you to feel so dizzy in love with him that you can't think straight; can't focus.

An awkward silence falls over the both of you as you stare distastefully at the drink he'd made you.

"Why did you do it?" You eventually ask.

Loki lets out a heavy breath. "I- I don't know... I suppose I just-" He stops himself from finishing his sentence and looks down at his feet.

You wait for him to finish patiently, giving him enough time to regain his composure.

"I suppose I just wanted to feel loved,"

He's let his guard down. And for once you notice how he never does that around anyone else; only you. But his answer catches you off guard all the same. It feels as if he's just hit your heart with a hammer.

"I shouldn't have done it, I'm so sorry. I thought it would make me feel less lonely, but it only made it worse because I knew your feelings for me weren't real. Although it seems I was unable to stop giving you the tea... I was addicted," He has tears in his eyes as he speaks.

His words engrave themselves in your mind. 'Your feelings for me weren't real'. That's not true at all...

You think back to the times you used to spend together before this, when you were best friends. You'd read together, play video games, go for walks and play pranks on his brother... everything you did made you fall head over heels for him. He didn't need to use a love potion to make you love him; he just needed to tell you his true feelings.

What he did still hurts you, but you can see the regret in his eyes and the way his right hand fiddles and scratches at his left. He's sorry. He knows he's made a mistake. And you being you can't just leave him to wallow in his own guilt.

He turns, no doubt wanting to leave as he mutters another apology.

Before you can stop yourself, you grab his arm. He stops and turns to face you.

"It wasn't fake," You say, somewhat hesitantly. "The potion merely... enhanced my feelings,"

His brow furrows in confusion, his eyes focused intently on you. You thread your hands in his.

"Did you do this purely to feel loved?" You ask, your voice sounding much smaller than you would have liked. "Or do you love me as much as I love you?"

He doesn't reply straight away; you can see him scanning your face for any evidence that you'd lied or made a joke. Clearly he found nothing as he responds:

"I love you,"

He's so quiet. You've never seen him like this before: stood in front of you, eyes filled with tears of regret and sorrow and worry, hands gripping yours so tightly he could probably snap them in half if he added any more pressure.

"I love you too," You reply, your bruised heart feeling as though it's being wrapped in bandages. You can tell it will take a while to heal, but, for once, you don't care. "I love you so much,"

A small, sad yet happy smile crawls onto Loki's face before he leans down and presses his lips to your own.

~★~

A/N - Likes, reblogs and feedback appreciated! Thanks for reading :)

#loki #loki fanfic #marvel #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #laufeyson #loki x y/n #loki oneshot #fluff #angst #avengers

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ashes-writing · 2 years

Note

Hey I was wondering if I could ask for Lip Gallagher and the filth alphabet please?

|| taglist, babes + req rules + send ?s - open + masterlist ||

Warnings;

If you're under 18 this was not written for you. Go find some fluff to read, got it? Minors DNI. body fluids, various kinks not limited to or excluding dom/sub, lingerie+stockings, choking/biting/hairpulling, pain kink, cockwarming and high sex... mentions of drinking / drugs -weed, he's a stoner, cum play/creampie, edging/orgasm control, oral sex, dacryphilia

Taglist ;

Special tag for @vonschweetz because the actor is their current favorite sad boy and I am making it my mission to drag them down this rabbit hole of Lip Gallagher kicking and screaming.

@chieflawyerpastatoad @heyaitsklaudia @moonileo and @Sporadiccherryblossom are the only people present on my Shameless taglist. If you'd like to be added, click the little link up top or tell me and i'll add you.

<< graphic made by me with help of google images +pinterest >>

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

--- he tries not to be, but he's a cuddler. there's a part of him that craves the connection and doesn't want it to end when the sex is over because it feels nice to just lie there and not be alone with his thoughts or whatever else is going on.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

--- tits, legs, lips. Particularly lips. He loves your mouth.

--- His cock is probably what he'd say, tbh.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

--- Will go down on you and make you kiss him to taste yourself. "Don't y' wanna taste how sweet you are, baby girl?"

--- creampie. That is all -we won't get into him getting hard as he sees it leak outta you and fucking it right back into you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

--- This man doesn't do dirty secrets in the sexual sense. He's a bit of a bragger, so he's quite vocal about past exploits. I do believe that he regrets losing his virginity to Karen though. Writer believes Karen was his first, this is why it was so damn hard for him to let her go despite all the shit she did to him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

--- Oh god, he's experienced. He's constantly sleeping with someone. He's definitely been around because sex is the way he expresses how he feels about a person he cares about and while this is messed up just a little, it also means that when the love isn't returned, he's done and moving on to the next one because he's searching and he yearns.

--- Totally knows what he's doing. Always trying new things too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

--- doggy style to pull hair and put a hand on your throat or grab your tits, against a wall holding you up, on the table, missionary.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

--- Depends. If he's jealous, pissed or frustrated he's serious. If he's in love or happy or feeling particularly sappy, he's humorous and sweet.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

--- it's a very well cleaned jungle down there. He keeps it clean, he just won't shave. Shit's too itchy for him when it grows back in because he tried it once and hated it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

--- he tries to be distant when it's a one time thing but there's still a part of him that just can't.. so he's intimate as hell and gentle and sweet unless he's jealous, frustrated or this is angry /hate sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

--- you wore some stockings with a costume once for a thing on campus (college) and he couldn't wait until he got back to the dorms, he had to go into the bathroom and jerk off there. He's always edging himself, he likes to see how long he can make himself last.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

--- cockwarming, pain (recieving, give him all the bites / hair pulls / scratches / etc), cum / creampie, mutual masturbation, biting/choking/hairpulling, lowkey breeding kink, dom/sub (slightly less soft than a soft dom but not quite a hard dom either), dacryphilia -he loves to watch you tear up when you gag on his cock, light bondage, food play, temperature play, toys,

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

--- Anywhere. I mean this. As long as it's away from prying eyes, he'll do it anywhere.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

---arguments, thigh high stockings or knee socks, being bitten/having his neck kissed or sucked, getting high because it makes him horny as fuck, his partner in general..

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

--- no public sex, he does not eat ass and he will absolutely not share you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

--- He's pretty good at it but very messy and loud, very bite-y. He loves to receive though, ugh, if you give this man a good deep throat blowjob he'll be on one knee.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

---Deep, rough and slow. Most of the time. If he's angry, jealous, frustrated or in a hurry, it's fast, deep and rough. You will be bent over the nearest available surface and you will come away with handprints on your tits, throat and hips.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

--- He's taking it any way he can get it. If he wants it and a quickie is his only chance to get laid, he's not turning it down.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

--- Experiment, yes. Risk -esp sex with people watching or walking in, nope.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

--- Multiple rounds, short breaks and maybe an hour or hour and a half each round.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

--- Nope. Now if you want him to use one of your toys on you, he'll happily do it. He just doesn't own any, he's kinda not into it for himself, his own personal use.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

--- He's a huge fucking tease, so much so that you're a mess by the time he FINALLY decides he'll have you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

--- He's loud. Swearing. Praising you, talking dirty to you, telling you how well you take his cock, telling you how tight you are, telling you that he'll fuck a baby into you sometimes, telling you he loves you and he wants to stay inside you forever, grunting, growling, whining -esp if you're going down on him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

--- Wants to be dominanted in bed but he's so used to being in control that he doesn't know how to go about it. Dominate this man somebody, please.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

---Above average length, average or slightly less so with girth. Cannot remember if he's cut or not, I know they mentioned this on the show. The tip is dark pink, it's slightly curved..

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

--- This fucker is perpetually horny. It's high. Very high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

--- After cuddling and playing with your hair / talking to you and kissing on you, he's asleep. Likes to fall asleep still inside you too, btw.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher x fem!reader #lip gallagher headcanons #minors dni

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whoyacallinyellow · 2 months

Text

Pastures New

John Marston x F! cowgirl reader

Spoilers: RDR2 chapters 1-3 (just in case) Content: 18+, John is an asshole, angst, possessive, canon typical events / violence, possible unintentional spelling mistakes. Type: third person limited (wc - 1540) / pc: pinterest

Summary: You have not been with the gang for very long. You’re leaving a little earlier than John expected, feeling betrayed by your actions, he snaps at you.

John stood perched up against a tree at the end of the camp path, it had been an uneventful nightshift at Horseshoe Overlook, like every other night that is. A part of him nearly craved a fight, but Dutch was keen on preaching patience, or something like that— maybe he could just doze off for a few minutes, no one would pay any mind, he’s still recovering after all. John was beginning to relax, with the trees gently rustling, the crickets chirping… a horse trotting quietly from camp—

Must be one of the boys going out on a lead, he peaked out from under his hat, pulling his worn body from the trunk.

“Who’s there?” John’s sharp words sliced into the night, creating a soft “easy,” from an unexpected voice.

“Whatcha doin’ out this late?” John hollered, his gruff tone softening and showing much more surprise than he first anticipated.

“Evenin’ Mr. Marston.” Your voice loomed as you wowed her horse in front of him, the stallion's coat shining off his lantern. John’s eyes scanned you from head to toe, with a satchel hung around your frame, and rifle on your back, he ogled at you in unintentional disgust.

“Got a lead?” He finally inquired suspiciously.

“Not quite—“ you began through a sigh, unsure how to break the news to your short-tempered companion. Shifting his weight from foot to foot in anticipation, your unusual tranquil tone began to make John nervous.

“I’m headin’ out.” You suddenly concluded, words that nearly sounded foreign— words that felt like a rip of a bandage to John. But after all, you were always trying to rile him up. Getting him all flustered was a near hobby at this point.

John erupted in bitter laughter, his harsh chuckles carrying throughout the thick trees and brush.

“Tell ya what, darlin’— how’abouts I take ya fishin’ tomorrow.” John proposed boldly in the midst of his laughter, taking any chance he could to dig under your skin. A sorry excuse he called payback for the torment he received from you. But to his dismay the comment earned not much of a word from you. Something about John brought out your confliction, your usual straightforward thoughts were mixing with your fondness of the outlaw.

“There ain’t much ‘ere for me, John.” You spoke lowly, unsure how to properly convey your thoughts to the brickhead. John swallowed dryly, you waited for him to speak, expecting a ‘am I not enough for ya, woman?!’.

But instead he tried to catch a glimpse of your face in the dark path where you both resided, for some sort of explanation. Knowing the all too familiar look in his bloodshot eyes, along with the small line his lips formed into, his anger overpowered any desire he had to rationalize with you.

“What’er you talkin’ about, girl?” John demanded, his arms crankily gesturing towards you.

“You know very damn well what I’m talkin’ about.” You snapped immediately, your harsh words hissing towards the stubborn outlaw.

“It’s over John— your ol’Dutch is gone looney! I pity the damn cocksucker who can’t see that.” You shouted, staring up your nose at him.

John shook his head in frustration, deeming this a match he yearned to not fight sober, it was so damn hard for him not to get upset— especially when it came to you.

“How ‘bout you sleep on it— I’m afraid I can’t let’cha go on by your lonesome in the middle of the night.” John calmly compromised, but to be fair— he wasn’t asking.

“Give me a break, Marston— Ms. Adler could just abouts spit on me right now, ‘nd I don’t fancy myself on your bad side— I’ve seen what you’ve done to that there O’Driscoll boy.” Your voice came out with an uncharacteristic shake, nearly resembling the whine of a child.

John’s fingers dug into the leather of his belt, his grip tightening with every passing moment as he gnawed at the inside of his lip.

“C’mere, girl.” John’s brash instructions eventually left his gritted teeth, he did not have the patience nor energy for your silly antics.

To John’s surprise you hesitantly obeyed, meeting the ground before him with a small plop.

The space in between you two closed a bit, his body heat radiating off you, turning the aura oddly intimate.

Yet you could not bring yourself to look at John, his smug eyes burned through you, wondering when he should speak— seeing you this vulnerable was a sight for sore eyes. Maybe he enjoyed it a little too much. Your usual cocky attitude held no chance against him, they were still outlaws after all, and a lot of them at that. Watching you squirm from simply being under his authoritative gaze made his ego violently soar.

“Hey now, look at me.” He instructed through a breath, you shook your head with a huff of protest.

“Fuck you, Marston.” The words burned right through him, bringing his power trip to an abrupt halt.

After quick consideration and no second thoughts, John decided he was not having it—in one swift motion his calloused fingertips met with your jaw, craning your head up to meet his dead-eyed gaze and freshly healed wounds, which only put emphasis on how he towered over you with dominance.

“Oh, there ya are.” He teased cunningly with a hum, admiring his beat hands on your soft skin, which resembled silk under the blue moon.

John thought the worse you could do was shoot him point blank, or scream bloody murder to alarm the gang— just to spite him. He reckoned you did not have the gall for either.

Your frightened doe eyes glistened off the moonlight that broke through the treetops, face remaining unable for him to read.

“I reckon you behave.” John murmured shortly, the cooed rasp in his voice nearly sounded sickly sweet. He decided to leave you to interpret what the full extent of his words meant.

He tightened his grip ever so slightly, causing a burning pain to vibrate through his bloody knuckles from an earlier altercation. A part of John hoped he did not hurt you, while another part so desperately wanted to leave a small reminder of who you belonged to— how could you leave him this soon? Right when things were getting back on track.

“If… if you do so much as to speak— I’ll hunt you down my damn self.” John growled through gritted teeth, his words slithering out in a near whisper.

An empty threat you have summed up to being all talk, but John knew you would not challenge him under these circumstances

You were not surprised by his words, knowing the man would not have taken your departure easily, especially after nearly dying and all. You exhaled gently, face softening under the small illuminance of John’s lantern, now placed at your feet on the forest floor.

John squinted in sudden discomfort, his once gripped hand now resting gently on your cheek, causing regret and shame to wash through him, the subconscious movements just proved how sweet on you he was.

“‘M sorry, little miss.” John mumbled softly, realization dawning upon him as the guilt began to eat him inside-out.

Without speaking you hoisted yourself on your tiptoes, placing a gentle kiss on the outlaw’s newly healed cheek. An embarrassing gesture he was just beginning to get used to— who would have thought he would still get loved on with that nasty scar.

“Jus… just be a good girl, alright?” John murmured huskily, desperately trying to backtrack his prior threats.

As your lips retreated John’s heart beat increased in anticipation of what you would do. After planting a small kiss on his lips was almost enough for him to ride off into the night with you.

He broke away, running his beat hands down your shoulders as he thought of what to say.

“I can’t.” Was all he mumbled to himself, despite your lack of words.

“But at this rate— maybe.” He chuckled meekly, leaning away from you to prevent any more of your convincing.

John was so focused on you that he barely noticed the stallion fidgeting anxiously due to the commotion, small snorts and stomps of protest could have nearly been enough to alarm one of the gang joining him on patrol.

“Whoa, easy now boy.” John hushed, beginning to adjust the saddle and bedroll you lazily threw on in the dark.

“That scared bastard’ll buck you off at the snap of a twig.” He stated, reaching his hands towards the stallions freshly groomed coat— oh how you desperately tried to get the ol’bastard to tolerate you.

“Hey now, that bastard is my ticket outta’ere— or perhaps ours.” You defended the poor beast with a shy grin.

John sighed, finally hearing the suggestion come from you out loud and not just his racing thoughts. The fact that if you would have led with that offer, he might have accepted without second thought. Before John could dig himself out of his trance you mounted up.

“Farewell John.” You mumbled, fighting the uncertainty in your voice that John so clearly caught on to— he wasn’t the village idiot everyone thought he was, surely.

“Go on.” You breathed with a small click of your mouth. John watched his greenhorn cowgirl disappear into the night. Evidently the same girl who could barely mount properly weeks ago— the same damn girl who nearly got her insides turned out by the same damn stallion— the same damn girl he would follow around camp in a drunken stupor for one more kiss before bed.

“fuckin’ idiot.”

John spat, to himself or you, he could not quite tell. He was not exactly sure what stopped him from racing after you through the warm summer night before losing you for good, or why he wanted to in the first place— maybe it was to laugh in your face when things didn't go your way— maybe it was to prove to you that Dutch’s plan would work— maybe it was to take you for all you’re worth and donate your share to gang, fair and square— or maybe it was for reasons he was conflicted with, thoughts kept quiet he was not sure he could rationalize just yet.

All he knew was for now, the gang needed him.

#second time writing rdr it might suck womp womp #rdr2 headcanons #john marston x reader #John marston headcanons #John marston #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption fandom #rdr2 #rdr

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saylor-twift · 5 months

Text

(clariondeluna_art on insta, i found on pinterest)

please enjoy this piece of shit i threw together on a whim. Wanderer is called Kunimitsu bc that’s what i named him, sorry if u don’t like it 🤷‍♀️

pt. 2: Good Enough

word count: 3094

Just a Little More

It was odd, yes, but not entirely unpleasant. To speak the truth, it actually was proving quite difficult to find any sort of discomfort throughout the whole ordeal. (Despite the obvious underlying awkwardness at the beginning, of course). If anything, it was hard to keep from grinning like an idiot any time you got a little closer than normal, maybe bumping a shoulder or brushing a finger or two. The butterflies in your stomach only enhancing that girlish giddy sensation you felt every damn time his gaze locked with yours.

The one little aspect that made this little rendezvous odd, though, was that for once it was not of your own accord. Usually, you were the one who (reluctantly, knowing his attitude) would invite him along on your little escapades. And he, who despite complaining every single time without fail, always said yes. You weren’t sure exactly why you kept coming back to him. Your history with the ex-harbinger was far from pleasant, after all. (Yes you do, it’s because you yearn for him in a way you’ve never felt towards anyone before, but you can’t admit that, he’d never let you hear the end of it.) Most of the time, the trips the two of you took together were, unsurprisingly, on behalf of Sumeru’s very own deity of wisdom, informally known as Nahida. Unbeknownst to you, she really only does it because she likes seeing the two of you together, she claims it’s doing him some good. You never complain, you’ve grown to enjoy his presence as a matter of fact.

Now, he was never exactly a fan of being known as an errand boy for Sumeru’s archon, so you knew there must have been some sort of underlying reason as to why he always agreed to accompany you. This theory was pretty much proven true when he showed up, completely out of the blue and completely without reason, to your quarters, inviting (demanding) you to come with him so he could show you some interesting new phenomenon he had recently come across. Of course you were in no place to deny, coincidentally having no plans for that day. But, even if you did, you most likely would have made the time for him anyway. With little more than an eyebrow raise and a shrug, you find yourself taking a rather pleasant stroll through one of the more sunny, open areas of the Avidya Forest with none other than the renowned Mr. Hat Guy. The journey had, as per usual, been rather silent. But not the kind of silence that makes your skin crawl with awkwardness, more so the kind that momentarily takes a weight of your shoulders and, in a way, makes you feel as though you just might belong here.

Walking for several more minutes, the two of you reach a clearing in the forest, where he motions you to follow him up to the top of a rather large hill. Raising an eyebrow at the lack of information given to you, you decide to speak up. “You know, not to pester or anything, but you’ve sort of left me in the dark as to what plans you have for us here.”

“I have informed you, I’m showing you something I have found that I think you will find interesting. Be silent, wouldn’t you rather keep the element of surprise?” He responds in his usual snarky tone that never fails to make you quirk a smile. “Well, put yourself in my position, don’t you think it’s at least a little odd I’m being led into the middle of nowhere with the only piece of information being, ‘I have something to show you.’? Think about it, wouldn’t you be a little suspicious?” You cross your arms smugly, raising an eyebrow towards the indigo-eyed man. You always enjoyed poking a little fun at him. “Oh, so you’re just now realizing that I’m someone you should be a little wary of? I figured you would have picked up on that a little sooner. Needless to say I’m disappointed.” He says in a threatening tone, though knowing him, you know it couldn’t be wrung for even a hint of actual malice. “Hmm… so if I’m correct, then I assume you’re saying I should turn around and leave before you decide to, I don’t know, strangle me to death?” You think you’re so hilarious.

He scoffs, crossing his arms as his brows furrow, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant. “I’m not going to plead and beg for you to stay, but you seemed pretty eager to follow me all the way out here from the beginning. It goes without saying it would be considered a little rude for you to leave now, but who am I to hold you captive? If you truly wish to leave, be my guest.” This causes you to stifle back a laugh because he truly does look so adorable with his arms folded like a child, nose turned up to the sky in a show of faux coolness. He’s trying to seem as though he doesn’t care, but oh he really does, otherwise why would he have even taken you out here in the first place? “You know I’m kidding, if I really wanted to leave I wouldn’t have come out here anyway! I’m sure I’ll be pleasantly surprised once I get to see this ‘phenomenon’ of yours.” You chide, jogging a little to catch up with his quickened pace. He huffs again. Adorable, you think. “Keep your mouth shut, then. Or else it won’t be much of a surprise.” This time you really do laugh, unable to contain your amusement any longer. Making sure to make eye contact with him, you pretend to zip your lips shut, smirking giddily the whole time. He scoffs once more, turning his head and covering his face with the brim of his hat, most likely to hide the very obvious, and lovely, dusty rose that creeps up to his cheekbones, as well as the hint of a smirk.

As he continues to lead you up an incredibly steep hill for what feels like an eternity, (seriously, where the hell does this lead?) your curiosity only continues to grow. At first you didn’t really mind, rather enjoying the peace and quiet, but you soon find that you’re actually not too keen on being in ignorance of his true intentions. Instead of being suspicious, you’re rather agitated, coming to the conclusion that this whole exposition seems to be completely otiose. Drawing in a sharp breath and opening your mouth to spit out some gripe about the current situation, the Wanderer suddenly stops dead in his tracks, placing his hands on his hips. You’d fallen behind him again, now standing a few paces behind. You fold your arms, glancing at him curiously, waiting for some sort of explanation. “Uhm-“

“I believe this is it.” He interrupts.

“Uh, you believe?” You walk the remaining steps required to put you next to him, standing just within arms reach.

“Yes, I believe so.”

“So, this phenomenon you speak of… does it perhaps require some sort of higher consciousness in order to see that I am currently lacking? Or is this some poorly executed joke and you really are planning on doing something unspeakable to me out here?” You quip, (half) jokingly. He sighs, turning to fully face you for the first time all evening. Evening? Wow, you realize, the sun is actually beginning to set. You’ve been out here longer than you had thought. “Well, obviously I haven’t shown it to you yet. As I said before, I only believe that this is the correct location. If I’m wrong, then this will all be for naught.” He turns around, seemingly surveying the surroundings. “And if you are wrong?” You retort, hands on hips. Silence.

…

“I’m not.” He faces you once more, and you can’t deny the flurry of butterflies erupting inside your abdomen the millisecond your gaze meets his, piercing indigo eyes tunneling directly into your soul. He extends his hand, and you swear out of the corner of your eye you see his chest rise and fall as though he’s taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Do you trust me?” He asks in all seriousness, his gaze never leaving yours. “I think so.” You vacillate, placing your hand atop his without much of a second thought. “If you regret this later, just remember it was you who agreed to it.”

“I- huh-? WAI-“ You yelp as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, one around your waist while the other supports the underside of your thighs, rocketing into the air with the use of his anemo vision at a near breakneck speed. He laughs out loud at your apparent fear, spinning around once or twice just to tease you a little more. You don’t even realize how your fingers clutch the sheer fabric of his black shirt until he finally comes to a standstill, hundreds of feet off the ground. You blink your eyes a couple of times, regaining the moisture after the sharp winds from being shot upward. Looking out in front of you, your jaw goes slack at the sight to behold. Below you is the city of Sumeru in all its glory, the golden buildings appearing nearly ethereal when bathed in the sunlight. The water from the nearby river reflects the colors of the sunset, giving off a gorgeous orange and red rosy hue. He looks at you, and holy shit why do you feel so gooey whenever he does that? “Well, (name)? What do you think? I have to admit, I wasn’t fully honest with my intentions, this was indeed not for any sort of research purposes, but I think it can be considered a groundbreaking phenomenon nonetheless, no?”

You turn your head towards him, (definitely not shocked at how close the proximity is), and can’t help the smile breaking out on your face. Stumbling over your words, you manage to form a mainly coherent sentence. “I- how did you…? The city… how did you know?”

“It’s quite the sight, isn’t it? When I’m bored, I quite enjoy flying over this particular area, and I’ve actually discovered that at certain times of day, when the sun hits those buildings at just the right angle, you get the chance to witness something exquisite. As the enjoyer of all things beautiful that I take you for, I figured it was only fair to share my discovery with you. Care to share your thoughts?” He smirks at you, obviously pleased with himself as well as your reaction. “It’s… absolutely beautiful… Look over there! How can… is this even real?” You laugh in disbelief, pointing all over like an overexcited child. He laughs as well, in fun of you, of course. “How very easy to please. You really are such a child.” He smirks, then stops to take another look at your grinning face, and time seems to pause altogether, because really, this was his plan all along, to get you alone so he could admire you like this. He’s not quite sure when it hit him, but recently he’s found himself all but completely taken by you. He’s always thought you were one of the few people on the more attractive side of things, but over the course of the last few weeks he’s had the odd, reoccurring thought that you were perhaps one of the loveliest things he’s ever seen.

Not only on the outside, but truly he believes, on the inside as well. You were there when he plummeted from the height of his glorified mecha, you were there when he was picking fresh sunsettias for the street merchant, when his mind had been erased of all his past traumas and wrongs and felt as young as it had his first few years of life. You were there when all those memories were oh so harshly returned to him, and to this day you are still here, even though he firmly believes you shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve you, the one who sits next to him when he behaves like a wallflower around the rest of his peers, the one who doesn’t anger at him when he spits out crude remarks, you who soothed him that one night after a particularly achey nightmare, despite his embarrassment and hesitance to look at you afterwards. You, who seems to understand him so very well, to the point it feels as though you’re sticking your hand into his very soul and wrapping his aching heart in soft bandages, and how is that even possible? You’re a mortal, mortals don’t possess that kind of understanding. And yet time and time again, you endlessly prove him wrong. He hates to admit it, it feels wrong, he wasn’t meant to feel this way, hell, it’s the reason his very creator sent him away. But archons, he just can’t help it, he loves you, and he finally allows him to accept it right here in this very moment, when the luminescence of the setting sun so beautifully paints your skin with varying shades of roses and peaches. He isn’t even listening to what you’re saying as his gaze ever so subtlety falls down to your soft lips, endlessly rambling on and on about the scene in front of you, and yeah it’s pretty, he knows that, that’s why he brought you out here, duh. But it’s not nearly as breathtaking as you, and it baffles him that you’re too focused on the goddamn city to realize that.

One

His chest tightens, and he stops breathing. (Not like he needs to in the first place, but it has the same effect that it would on any regular mortal)

Two

His gaze is fully locked on your lips as they open and close.

Three

He waits patiently (very, very impatiently) for you to turn your head just slightly to the side, because for some strange reason, he’s feeling extra brave today.

Four

He bites his lip, maybe it will take a few more moments. You’re very engrossed with the sight he literally brought you out here for, after all.

Five

Oh come on.

Six

He debates on using his hand to turn your head himself if it means he gets to feel your lips on his for even a moment.

Seven

Eight

Nine

Please, please, please, turn your head just a little more…

Ten

You sharply turn your head, in the opposite fucking direction he’s been silently begging for you to do this whole time. You gasp, jutting a finger outwards. “Kunimitsu, look! You can even see the oasis from here!” He instantly snaps out of his stupor, stuttering as you grip his shoulder in elation at the glowing blue tree miles in the distance. “A-ah, I suppose it is. Another wonderful view.” He clenches his jaw, reality giving him a harsh kick right in the gut. Of course you’d never give him that opportunity, he doesn’t deserve it and (according to him and only him,) probably never will. Isn’t that the conclusion he had come to, that you were far too pure and good for a sinner like him? Oh well, a man can dream. Those ten seconds were the most excruciating, and in a sort of odd, deranged way, also the most blissful in his entire five centuries of living. “Let’s go, you need to get home. I know all too well the side effects of sleep deprived mortals, and I have zero intentions of caring for you in the morning.” He spits out harshly, taking out his frustrations on you even though he knows fully that his own emotions are his own fault. You frown, and he swears he’s started to see things because did you just glance at his lips? No, surely you didn’t, his mind is playing tricks on him because of his own previous thoughts regarding you. “Already..? But-“

“Don’t make me parent you. You’ve enjoyed yourself, no? The day is coming to an end, now come on.” He scolds, descending to the ground at a much easier and slower rate than the manner he brought you upwards in. You furrow your eyebrows, instantly sensing something is wrong because that’s just how you are, someone so emotionally intelligent that they can feel when even someone as emotionally constipated as him is feeling out of the ordinary.

“Is everything all right, Kunimitsu? Have I done something wrong?”

“I just remembered something, is all. Mind yourself.”

He sets you down on the grass, taking care to make sure you get your footing before completely letting go because even though he’s frustrated at the fact he wasn’t able to kiss you just now, he’s going to make sure you’re okay. It’s probably a bit childish for him to be acting this way, hypocritical because not even thirty minutes ago he called you a child, but he just can’t help it. He’s been pining for you so hard it actually hurts, even more so that he’s finally come to terms with how he feels. Stealing one last glimpse at the desirable shape of your lips, because that’s all he feels he deserves in this moment. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you back.”

Next time, he swears he won’t hesitate.

he turns and begins to walk down the hill, assuming for you to follow him. You don’t follow him straight away, folding your arms. You know exactly why he’s upset, you know exactly what he wanted while you were in the air, and you mentally punch yourself for not realizing it until it was too late. You absolutely cannot deny that you are in fact, madly in love with the man in the large hat. Maybe you shouldn’t be, he tried to harm you on numerous occasions, after all. He’s not a good person, but archons, he’s so much better than he was before. You can see it in the way he smiles to himself when he thinks nobody else is watching, the way he always makes sure you’re alright after completing your daily commissions, even if it’s in the form of scolding. And you especially see it in the way he looks at you like he absolutely needs you but you just won’t turn your fucking head one more inch for him to show you how much he appreciates your existence. You were a goner before you even realized what was happening.

And next time, you swear, you’ll make sure he doesn’t hesitate.

#wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #felt cute might delete later #kunikuzushi

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