#anyways it's the contrast of how they handle each other for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chastiefoul · 1 year

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regret | alhaitham

a/n: a very messy drabble based on some idea that popped into my head. basically about a y/n who's very in touch with their feelings vs alhaitham handling those feelings (to nobody's surprise, it didn't end well)

tags: angstyyy

part 2 here

1.5k words

to say that you get along with alhaitham would be a stretch.

anyone would agree that your interactions consisted only of you always pestering him and alhaitham barely tolerating it. this causes amusement but also worries, you both being the polar opposites and all.

the arrogant and cold scribe versus the bright and cheery you. there’s a line, a wall if you will; that made everyone wondered, how long would the strange dynamic last before something eventually went wrong.

and it finally did.

❀

hanging out with kaveh is something of a routine, with you studying the same subject; architecture. people were always naturally drawn to you, kaveh wasn’t the exception. you both get along with each other pretty quickly, and he’s been a close friends since. you even got to know alhaitham through him.

alhaitham said once, that you both were pretty similar albeit with different words—or to quote him as he spoke with such exasperation, “archons, now there are two of them.” still however alike, he quietly also thought there’s a key difference, a very apparent contrast that he couldn’t help but notice, even he didn’t try to.

you and kaveh both were very in touch with your emotions, meaning all of your actions often solely driven by feelings. although with kaveh he wasn’t ashamed of this, always stating clearly—or unnecessarily, if something had upset him. but you on the other hand chose to hide that displeasure, masking it with an uncertain smile, one that’s clearly forced. as though wanting to halt any further argument. that somehow infuriated alhaitham.

everyday you would always greet him without any care in the world. even though every conversation you had with alhaitham, somehow always turned into something he had to won, that he had to have the last word. he also couldn’t figure it out himself what got him so worked up every time he talked to you.

❀

“kaveh, don’t you think alhaitham is a nice person?” one a peaceful lunch you asked. he shot you a disgusted look, as if the question had offended him. “are you in your right mind?” he quickly retorted. “well despite him looking so fed up and all that, he still talk to us, doesn’t he?” you played your food with your fork. “... and that’s why he’s ‘nice’? dear god the bar is in hell—no it’s even below the devil’s foot itself.” he sighed, really couldn’t believing his ear. what got you so infatuated with him anyway? in all honesty kaveh was having a hard time remembering if there was ever a time where alhaitham was nice to you, he only recalled your cheery attitude getting shot down by alhaitham’s apathy every single time.

wait. he knew what this is.

“you like him.” kaveh suddenly said. you couldn’t turn your head to him any quicker. “what?” you panicked. “you heard me. now i just need to hear you admitting it.” there’s a playful smile on kaveh’s face, he’s teasing. “you won’t, cause i don’t.” you said, trying hard to be calm while eating your food. “mmhm,” kaveh hummed knowingly, an annoying smirk plastered on his face. “you know what? i don’t have to listen to this, i’m leaving.” you pouted, gathering your stuff. “yes, and you know what your in-denial self should listen to instead? me.”

“shut up!”

❀

“good morning, alhaitham!” you greeted him per usual with high energy. he hummed a reply, acknowledging your presence. when you just lingered there showing no sign of leaving he sighed. “how many times do i have to tell you my office is not a playground where you can hang around however you please?” he asked, preparing to sort out the documents from the fresh pile that just came. “i was just—nevermind that, do you need any help?” you asked with a smile. however the harmless question just tick something unpleasant inside of the scribe, he knew you meant well, truly he knew that. “do i look like someone who’s incapable of doing my own job?” he questioned in a cold tone.

“of course not! i just thought since i was a little free-“

“right. you thought, that never went well though, did it?” the viciousness was out of nowhere, you were caught off guard.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you narrowed your eyes at the harsh words—like he was saying that you were some kind of an idiot. he was always ill-tempered towards you, but he didn’t need to be this harsh over a mere offer to help.

alhaitham could feel he was being unreasonably mean, but he just couldn’t stand it. your useless kindness, your warmth, your concerns over his well-being all of these were so strange for him and his initial reaction was to reject and mock them. alhaitham felt like he was above it, it was too troublesome. he was fine living up to this point without the concerns from other people, and he was sure as hell he wasn’t going to start not being fine without it anytime soon.

“why do you always think i need help? or do i need someone to remind me when to have my meal, or telling me to be conscious of my sleep schedule? frankly, it made me very uncomfortable,” once he started he felt like he couldn’t stop. alhaitham was mad, but if someone had asked him why he also wouldn’t be able to find the words to explain. he just was.

“well excuse me for trying to look out for my friend!” you raised your voice.

“friend? i never once thought of you that way,” he said. that shut you up real quick. the confession left your mouth agape, your chest ached. just what you are to him then, for the past half-year? but then when you think about it again, when has he exactly treat you as if you were something more of an acquaintance? in the end it was on you to assume, but it still hurts nonetheless.

in the brief silence alhaitham found the answer as to why was he so aggravated every time he talked to you.

alhaitham was blunt, he was ruthless in commenting on things that are out of place according to him. he was arrogant, often thinking that he’s above everything else, this include his way of life. a life of solitude; without the need of other people. but then you came, and his principles was shaken. alhaitham was a lot of things, but none would say that he’s fickle. yet, his rage right that second was a living proof that perhaps alhaitham was never the winner of those meaningless conversations he had with you. that truthfully, you already had him at the first good morning greeting you had given him with a bright smile.

and that is alhaitham’s hardest pill to swallow. you, a single person managed to make him almost change his entire life principles he had believed his whole life. and that’s as terrifying as it is infuriating to him. he couldn’t let you sway him more than this.

after what felt like eternity you finally responded.

“there’s a limit to being heartless, don’t you think?” you weakly said, you don’t even know what you were hoping for as a reply honestly. “there’s also should be a limit to your groundless assumptions.” he didn’t even look at you as he said these things, which perhaps good since you seriously couldn’t hold your tears anymore.

you had never believed rumors about people, as you will never know the truth unless you verify it yourself. but there, standing quietly as your tears wet the floor; there was no denying it anymore, alhaitham was indeed a heartless man who has zero empathy towards other living being.

“maybe i was wrong about you, alhaitham.” you smiled sadly.

it’s better this way.

“you were. now if you don’t mind, i have work to do.” he stated firmly, meaning: get out. which you will do gladly once you said your piece.

“it’ll do you good in the future to not be so driven by your emotions,” he still thought he was in a position to lecture you.

“yeah? and it’ll do you to good get off your high horse once in a damn while, you’re not fucking better than everybody else, alhaitham.”

“maybe so, but i certainly know i’m above acting solely over any emotion i’ve felt in the moment. i stopped doing that after i turned six, actually.” to think he'd mock you for crying.

“fuck you, alhaitham. enjoy your ‘alone’ time, i hope it stays that way forever.” you walked away from his office, swearing to yourself that it will be the last time you set foot on that damn place. alhaitham rarely see you frown, and to see you that angry and he was the cause of it.. silence got the better of him, the insides of his chest was swirling, he wasn't sure what to feel.

when your footsteps was finally out of hearing, alhaitham brought his palm to his face, his emotions getting the better of him. he saw the the hurt in your face, it was beyond saving. there’s nothing he could possibly say or do to get you to forgive him. and that was his intention of course, to get you to hate him. but he never thought he’d be ready for that.

alhaitham days quickly returned to the monotous routine. a quiet cycle, he thought he loved that. it's easy to realize that he did not anymore.

he's already so used to you. he kept waiting for you every morning, maybe if he wished hard enough you’d forget everything and just came back like nothing happened. but those days didn’t come, the memory quickly turns into anguish but more than that, regret.

aside from his ego, perhaps this regret is also something he would take to his grave.

part 2 maybe??

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham angst

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theoldsports · 6 months

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Married | Part II

LINK TO PART ONE

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.1K words

FILTHY SMUT 18+ ONLY. oral (m and f receiving), dubcon, alcohol makes consent messy, brutal sex, blackout drunk, bad media coverage, lingerie, exhibitionism (a little), they’re both terrible for each other in the best way possible, possessiveness <3 this one gets a bit dark.

Married, back by popular demand. hope it’s okay. i worked hard, i’m a bit nervous. let me know what you thought. requests always open.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

He inhaled and set his sights towards his next objective. Already leaning in, Coriolanus pulled [Y/N]’s earlobe between his lips tantalizingly. “Now, I seem to recall being promised a blowjob, my Darling.”

[Y/N] sighed. “I had hoped you’d forgotten.”

Coriolanus smirked, inches from her face. “I never forget a promise.” He muttered.

The driver pulled up in front of them with his car and Coriolanus pulled [Y/N] inside. [Y/N] put her head on Coriolanus’ shoulder instead of putting on her seatbelt for the short drive home. She was drunk enough not to care if she was touching him, or if he was touching her. Coriolanus was touching her. He was touching her too much already at her thighs and hips. The pair of them had already broken the touch barrier that evening, but her brain was too loopy to try to push any kind of new/old boundary.

[Y/N] blinked heavily. She was able to tell that Coriolanus was already becoming frustrated with the bulk of tulle that was her black gown. It was funny for an engagement party when she thought about it, since it stood in stark contrast to her crisp white wedding gown. Coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out how to touch her right under all the fabric as he had then they were standing earlier.

“Is your wedding dress going to be easier to handle?” Coriolanus said into the back of her ear. “This one is starting to get on my nerves.”

“I can’t tell you that. You’re not ‘pposed to see it til you see it at the alter.” She giggled sadly.

Coriolanus frowned. “Ancient superstition,” he said. “I’m not seeing it anyway. You’d be telling me about it. It’s different.”

“Nice try.”

Coriolanus’ frown deepened as he rolled his icy blue ice. “May I ask you something else, then?”

“It depends.” [Y/N] said clearly. Too clearly, really. That was the problem with drunk people, they knew they were drunk, but they tried to prove to everyone around them that they weren’t.

Coriolanus laughed at her expense. She was behaving like a child. He found it equal parts charming and frustrating. “Have you ever given a blowjob before?” He asked too loudly for [Y/N]’s liking.

“Coriolanus!” She gasped, smacking his arm.

“I’m just asking! You don’t have to strike me. Haven’t we had enough of that for one night?”

[Y/N] hated Coriolanus. He made her blood boil. “What does it matter?” She growled.

“I was curious if you had offered because it was a matter of superior ability, or because that was the only thing you had to offer.”

“You’re calling me desperate!”

“I wasn’t specifically, but since we both agree that it’s true…”

“All this was shaping up to be halfway tolerable, and you open your big mouth again. Fuck you!”

“Yeah, I know. You fucking me is what I was aiming for. Yes or no on the blowjob thing? I was assuming you had, if it makes any difference.”

[Y/N] paused. She had given a blowjob. Quite a few, actually. They were very convenient for getting out of a bad situation fast. She didn’t answer. [Y/N] still didn’t have the courage to say that in front of the driver.

“You can say yes. I know you’re not a virgin.” Coriolanus said bluntly.

Coriolanus would know that. Prior to their engagement, it was true that [Y/N] had pulled Coriolanus in for a quick fuck at a University party. She was shocked that he implied he even remembered that for as drunk as she recalled him being. [Y/N] wondered if the two of them would only ever be able to love each other under the influence.

“Can this conversation wait a few moments, we’re almost home.” [Y/N] replied.

“You didn’t have much of a problem back at the party in front of damn near everyone that’s ever known you. Is one driver going to make a difference?”

“FINE!” [Y/N] snapped. “Fine. I have, I give a decent blowie. Happy?”

Coriolanus smiled an uncharacteristically wide grin. The driver coughed slightly and loosened his tie. [Y/N] would have been incredibly embarrassed if she had any dignity left. Coriolanus grinned even wider at his driver’s behavior. His new favorite pass time was seeing how far he was capable of pushing [Y/N] to do whatever he wanted. So far, so good. Her initial resistance before her moment of breaking and behaving even worse than himself is what made this all the more fun.

The driver pulled up in front of the steps to their city apartment. Coriolanus gathered [Y/N]’s long forgotten shoes from the car’s floor. The driver got out to open the door for [Y/N]. Ever the gentleman publicly, Coriolanus ran around the side of the car to get it faster. He helped his fiancée out of the car. A Herculean task when you consider the alcohol in her system and the weight of all the fabric in her ballgown. “Come on, Darling,” he said, yanking her somehow elegantly towards the stairs, “we have business to attend to.”

Coriolanus helped her up the stairs and into their apartment. It was easier than it had been on the way out in those deathtrap heels he had purchased her.

Faintly, [Y/N] heard the door snap shut behind her and the deadbolt click resolutely. She leaned up against the wall. Coriolanus left her field of vision for a moment. When he re-entered her sights, [Y/N] blinked up at him. “Hi.” She said.

Coriolanus smirked at her curiously. “Hello.” He replied.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” [Y/N] started. She took a clumsy step towards Coriolanus and grabbed the lapels of his coat for support once she could reach him. “You’re quite pretty,” she said. Coriolanus began a laugh. “No! Don’t. Don’t do that. I mean, you’re a very attractive man. You are. Too bad that you’re—“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Coriolanus cut in with a scoff. “Here, let me help you,” he pulled her in closer. His hands moved nimbly down her back to pop open one button after the other on her dress while still allowing her to support herself against his front. For the first time, Coriolanus didn’t care that much if she wrinkled his clothes. When the majority of the buttons were undone, her dress slid down her body and landed in a large heap at her feet. What was left under the dress was [Y/N] in no bra (which Coriolanus had not expected, even under the strapless gown) and alarmingly red lace panties, stockings and garters (also unexpected). “I… Wow,” He said cooly. His eyes raked hungrily down her body. Coriolanus had never seen so much of it at once before. “Is there a bra that goes with this?”

“Mhmm,” [Y/N] nodded shyly.

“Hm, I think I would like to see it sometime. This isn’t half bad, though,” He said. He could Coriolanus’ large hands his hands slid down her chest. His hands held her breasts firmly. His eyes widen watching her nipples pebble under the touch of his thumbs. “Why’d you wear this?”

The lingerie wasn’t the most stunning set he had ever seen—it seemed more practical than anything else— though, he could fix that. Coriolanus felt the crotch of his pants tighten at the prospect, knowing that she was already into wearing such things. He was going to call for a lingerie catalog in the morning and buy all of it.

“It’s most of what I wear. I—I like it.”

“I’ll remember,” Coriolanus nodded. She was confident he would remember. She probably wouldn’t remember saying it, though.

Coriolanus stared down at their hardwood floors. He hated hardwood. It creaked too much and only looked good with an abundance of maintenance. Coriolanus wanted [Y/N] to suck him off as soon as possible and figured that she would probably be appreciative of getting it over with faster, but his mind was racing thinking about the unsightly bruises the hardwood entryway would leave on her knees.

Then the bedroom had the issue of the rug and the rugburn that would give. Further, which bedroom would they go to? Coriolanus hated that [Y/N] insisted on staying in her own room. He would have to fix that. She was clearly just as exciting as he had recalled from childhood, it had merely taken them both a moment to get to that level of vulnerability with each other. Coriolanus decided to lead [Y/N] to his bedroom. He also decided he would insist she kneel on a pillow. He hated the look of bruised knees. It reminded him of the war.

While he pulled her along, he glanced down at her. “The tears at the party, were those real?”

[Y/N] laughed in surprise at the question. “No! Well, maybe twenty percent, if that? Because once I get started, it’s hard to stop.”

“Really?” He replied, leaning her against his open doorway. “You’re sick. I’m rather impressed. That takes a lot of… What’s the word?”

“You said ruthless earlier.”

“Yes, that too, but… It’s brilliant that you can do that at the drop of a hat. Very valuable to you. Scary for me, I’m sure.”

“… Thanks. I’ve been doing it since I was little.” [Y/N] replied dryly. She had never seen Coriolanus’ bedroom before. He had seen hers. Coriolanus thought he could barge in whenever he desired. His own room was previously off limits. [Y/N] figured it wouldn’t have been off limits had she wanted to have sex with him before now.

The room was clean, neat and lacking personal items almost entirely. There was a red rug, a vase of white roses on the nightstand and a small desk for when he took his work to bed with him. The bed, specifically, was enormous. It was piled high with pillow after pillow and the softest white sheets she could imagine. It made the bed she had spent all these weeks in look like a joke.

“Yes, as I recall, you were the fucking… crybaby in school until we were fourteen. And you mean to tell me it was fake?” Coriolanus threw his least favorite pillow on the floor for [Y/N]’s knees with a hushed thump.

“I mean, yes.”

“Why?”

“I like the attention.” [Y/N] said plainly. They both knew she wouldn’t have been so open about it without the alcohol, but boy, did Coriolanus desire this version of her. He saw her in that moment, standing mostly nude in his bedroom. He saw her for the first time for what she was. She was real. [Y/N] was a real person made up of a mess of contradictions. She was a very calculating person. Coriolanus saw that ruthlessness and that icy deadness to her. That was exactly the thing he thought he could love the most about her.

“Freak. What else can you do?”

“I dunno. I just… Do what gets me ahead. Don’t we all, Coriolanus? And, uh, when I see someone I don’t like, instead of saying ‘good to see you’ when they say ‘good to see you,’ I say, ‘yes! To see you!’ And I kind of mumble so it’s not obvious that I’m incapable of saying ‘oh yeah, nice to see you.’ You know I hate pleasantries.”

“Freak,” Coriolanus repeated with a smile. “No pleasantries then, get on your knees.”

[Y/N] walked the few steps towards towards the pillow he had thrown down and sank to her knees on it. She was clumsy when she was drinking, Coriolanus thought. More often than not, she was violently ungraceful more often than not. Coriolanus had rarely seen her be graceful at all. He liked that. He thought he’d moments of clumsiness and carelessness were alluring. [Y/N] looked helpless to him sometimes and he admired that. He wanted to be the thing that held together her broken and unsure nature. He thought of all the things he might have to help her accomplish in their future shared life together.

Coriolanus could see himself reaching easily for things she could not reach in the kitchen. He could see her being unable to lace up her winter boots due to the tightness of her dress, so he would get on his knees and do it for her. If she tripped on the sidewalk, he would pull her to her feet. If [Y/N] was too drunk to get up the stairs, he would carry her. When some strange man dared to look at her the wrong way, Coriolanus would kill him. She seemed so fragile and needy to him. Coriolanus loved that.

He needed her to need him. He wanted to be the only thing she ever need.

She was to be his.

“Stop looking at me,” She said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Wow, that kind of talk really gets me hard.” Coriolanus walked towards her, undoing his black leather belt and tossing his coat on the floor. She thought about the amount of excess he would afford her if he cared so little for his own possessions to leave them on the floor. [Y/N] thought about her own position on his floor briefly.

“We agreed no pleasantries.”

“Come on, you’re going to be mine for the rest of our lives. At least let me look at you.”

[Y/N] tipped her head down with a frustrated sigh. He stared wolfishly at her as she knelt half-bare on his floor. She couldn’t help but blush at how exposed she felt. [Y/N] felt more on display and exposed in front of one man, the man she was to marry, than she did in front of every guest at the party earlier in the night.

“Don’t look away from me,” Coriolanus said firmly. “Those eyes are too beautiful to look at the ground like that.”

She looked back up at him begrudgingly, her eyes wide with fear, or lust. She had no choice but to watch Coriolanus popped open the button of his trousers open. [Y/N] could see the imprint of his dick against his thigh. He rubbed himself through his pants for a moment. [Y/N] swallowed nervously. Coriolanus was a broad, imposing man. The size of his cock shouldn’t have been surprising, but her eyes bulged all the same.

Coriolanus pulled his cock free of his pants. Logistically, [Y/N] was officially concerned about offering the blowjob. His long cock was what her the rest of her life looked like. She would surely have to get used to it eventually.

Without hesitation, [Y/N]’s mouth fell open as he approached. Her hands instinctually gripped the back of his thighs. Coriolanus, after loosening his tie, buried his hands in her once elegantly styled hair and forced himself down her throat.

Coriolanus moaned through gritted teeth in sync with [Y/N]’s gag when she took him in. There was little chance of taking all of him down her throat at once. Unsurprisingly, Coriolanus fucked hard and fast. Brutally so. [Y/N] hardly had a chance to breathe through her nose. Fortunately, at least, Coriolanus did all the work by maneuvering her face up and down on his length. He regulated the tempo and the pressure. All [Y/N] could do was try to swallow and hollow her cheeks out as best she could. Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you, echoed in her mind.

Tears ran down her cheeks. Real ones.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Coriolanus grunted after several moments. [Y/N] raised her tongue slightly against him. Through wet eyes, she saw Coriolanus’ eyebrows lift and his forehead crease when she did. That was effective. “[Y/N]!”

The only sounds in the room after that were gagging and heavy breathing. Coriolanus’ breathing, not [Y/N]’s. She couldn’t remember the last time she was able to breathe, it felt like. She was really blowing for her life here, she could barely catch an inhale through her nose. [Y/N] felt herself get more and more lightheaded and she did all she could to keep her eyes open.

Quickly, she tapped the back of Coriolanus’ left thigh. It was universal symbol for this isn’t great for me. Coriolanus understood this signal loud and clear. He thought he would keep going, but almost immediately decided he would rather have a wife in one piece instead of a perfect blowjob and slowed his pace significantly. Like a good husband.

He got gratification from slowing down too, because he could see the relieved and grateful gleam in [Y/N]’s expression. Coriolanus had gifted her that relief. He was getting close.

“Swallow.” He choked out. [Y/N] turned her eyes up at him again to confirm his request. Coriolanus’ eyes were tightly shut. [Y/N] had no idea if this had been minutes or near an hour. Her jaw ached. She felt his cock twitch against her tongue as she sucked.

That was the last clear memory [Y/N] had that night. The build up of the alcohol that had been genetically modified to be strong enough to get one drunk faster, the stress, the sweat, the tears, the blowjob, the lightheadedness, the dancing, the fear and the anger all happening on one night culminated into a good old fashion liquor blackout.

She had brief flickers of memory instead of a picture of the night. She was unsure if Coriolanus had finished or not. [Y/N] vaguely remembered Coriolanus unhooking her garters and taking off her stockings. She could feel the clean sheet and duvet over her exhausted body. She swore she could recall Coriolanus’ arm over her her waist and his lips against her ear whispering something. If only she could remember what he said.

—

The next morning, [Y/N] woke up to the birds and the traffic noise. All of it sounded world-shatteringly loud. She felt sick to her stomach. What was that dreadful taste in her mouth? Her head pounded. Too much posca at her engagement party. Desperately, she wanted a cup of coffee. [Y/N] groped at the covers to drag them over her face to block out the morning light that filtered through the window.

Hold on.

As she pulled the covers over her head, [Y/N] realized these covers did not smell like her. They smelled of roses. That, and something else more metallic that lingered under the palatable rose smell. Coriolanus smelled like that. Coriolanus’ bed.

Buried in the comfortable duvet, she couldn’t bear to crawl out from under it. She was filled with panic. How had she ended up here? She could feel that Coriolanus wasn’t beside her, so where had he ended up? Had they slept together?

Had they slept together?

The phrase and all of its meanings bounced around in her head. Her hand slid down her body. She had no top on. That was a bad sign. Her hand continued further down her body and landed on lace underwear. She exhaled and let her hand flop back down on the bed. From another room, probably the living room, [Y/N] heard the phone ring. She wished it would stop. [Y/N] rose from bed with some difficulty.

It was clear upon standing up that the only thing that would make her feel better was vomiting. She dashed madly for Coriolanus’ en suite bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet, empty the contents of her stomach for a good couple of minutes. The pressure of her headache decreased afterwards, but the terrible taste in her mouth grew. [Y/N] flushed the toilet and stood in front of the mirror. She had never looked this bad in her life.

Dark ringed eyes, leaking leftover makeup and smeared lipstick, a bold hickey on her neck like a seventeen year old. What had she done?

[Y/N] grabbed Coriolanus’ burgundy robe off the back of his bathroom door and cinched it around her waist. She walked back through his bedroom. Her knees burned a bit with each step. Maybe from the heels she had worn the night before. Her eyes landed on the flat pillow on the floor right next to Coriolanus’ belt. This seemed like a bad omen.

Suspiciously, [Y/N] walked into the too bright hallway light. [Y/N] stumbled to her own bathroom and frantically brushed her teeth before facing Coriolanus. It hurt to hold her jaw open to brush her molars, but anything to rid herself of the salty, stale taste that had taken up residence. Finally then, she moved into the living room.

There was Coriolanus smiling on the couch like he was most mornings after some sort of party. His hair lacked product and lay rich and curly against his forehead. Boxer shorts and an open dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up left little up to the imagination about his body. He was so pale that he practically reflected the sunlight from the open window back at her like a mirror. Coriolanus was perfect, even first thing. How annoying.

“What time is it?” [Y/N] croaked hoarsely. Coriolanus nearly knocked his mug of bitter coffee off the end table in surprise as he reached for the remote. He abruptly clicked off the television.

“Eleven. There about,” Coriolanus replied, vocally calmer than his body would betray. He rose from the mauve couch and moved to [Y/N]. He ran his hand down the sleeve of his robe that she wore. “Is this mine?” He asked softly.

“Yes, sorry. It was all I could find. I’ll go swap it for—“

“Please. What is mine, is yours,” Coriolanus interrupted. “It suits you,” he said with a hand running across his own gold CSB monogram on the breast pocket of the robe she wore. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, I suppose,” but what she really wanted to say was ‘what did we do last night?’ “And you?”

Coriolanus chanced an animalistic smile. “Last night, you said no more pleasantries.”

[Y/N] scanned her brain for a memory of saying that. She did not remember that phrase specifically, but she did catch a lot more glimpses of her night in her mind’s eye. [Y/N]’s strongest images were her mother’s shocked eyes, the empty glasses of posca, Coriolanus with a red handprint on his cheek, and his hard cock at her eye level.

“Coriolanus, what did I do?” [Y/N] asked, realizing exactly what she had done.

“Which part?” Coriolanus asked cautiously, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her close. Coriolanus wanted her to feel held and ravished for a moment since he knew she would go ballistic at what was on the TV, in the newspaper, and on the lips of everyone in town. She felt like a still from an old moving picture; being held like that.

“How bad?”

“Hm? Oh, your mouth was lovely—“ he tried to expertly redirect with an innuendo.

That assumption of what they had done had been correct. Damn. “No, shut up, stop. The… The TV, the news, the—“

“Do you want to know?”

[Y/N] felt like deflating. It must have been bad. She thought back to how he had turned off the television so fast when she walked in. “I… Will I like what I see?”

“How about we sit down, Darling?”

Coriolanus sat [Y/N] down gently on the middle cushion of the couch and folded his lanky legs into the seat to her right. She looked worried. Coriolanus hated watching other people worry, it was distracting for him and often created too many new problems. He swallowed down the urge to snap at her for pouting like that. He hated pouting too considering how unproductive it was. The blonde man reached his right hand out and used a pointer finger and thumb to tip [Y/N]’s chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. “Hey,” he said calmly. “Any press is good press.” Coriolanus repeated their mantra from the night prior.

[Y/N] inhaled through her nose. “Any press is good press.” She agreed. Coriolanus nodded and pressed a dutiful kiss to her temple to praise her for that answer. [Y/N] stared at the dark and glassy TV screen. Coriolanus clicked it on.

A fuchsia haired newswoman sat behind a desk with the regular Capitol News studio set up for an morning gossip show. The headline was plastered on a chiron in the lower third of the screen: ‘SNOW HEIR’S GIRL OUT OF CONTROL.’ In the top right hand corner of the frame was a photo of [Y/N] sobbing on her knees in front of Coriolanus’ who wiped her tears. [Y/N] wasn’t able to listen to the grating anchorwoman who was speculating about whether or not Coriolanus should send [Y/N] to rehab.

Coriolanus watched [Y/N] watch herself on TV. He grew uncomfortable when he couldn’t automatically read her expression. He had prepared himself for some tears and a temper tantrum, but neither came.

“What are you thinking about?” Coriolanus asked her. [Y/N] was too still. She didn’t respond quickly. “[Y/N]?” Coriolanus nudged her with his elbow. “What are you thinking about?”

“The headline.” She finally replied.

Coriolanus bit his bottom lip. He kept his voice as level as she had. “Okay. What about the headline?” He asked.

“Well, it isn’t very good, is it?”

“What?”

“It’s too plain.”

Coriolanus narrowed his eyes. “It’s too plain?”

[Y/N] nodded slowly. She finally ripped her eyes away from the television set and looked up at him. “It’s informative, but it’s not eye catching beyond being alarmist,” She replied. [Y/N] pointed at the TV, smiling. “That’s my picture. That’s us up there, Coryo, and that’s the best headline they could come up with? It’s weak.”

Coriolanus couldn’t recall her calling him Coryo before, even when [Y/N] had heard it from friends, family and classmates. She was saying something. He should have been paying better attention, but [Y/N] looked lovely wearing his robe. “Coryo, are you listening to me?”

He wasn’t. Too bad. Coryo. “I got distracted, I’m sorry, Darling. You were saying?”

“I said, please get me a piece of paper and a pencil. I want to work on something better and call in a suggestion for a correction since obviously—Mmph!“

[Y/N] sentence was never finished. Coriolanus leaned in towards her face and slammed his lips against hers hungrily. Habitually, [Y/N] grabbed his biceps as they toppled flat back onto the couch. Coriolanus wasted little time pressing the tip of his tongue against her lips aggressively. He knew he gave into an open-mouthed makeout too easily, but it was so much fun.

Both pulled back after some time for a breath. “Coriolanus…” [Y/N] panted.

“Coryo, please. Nobody calls me that anymore.” He said, staring down at her.

“Coryo, I want a pencil and a piece of paper.”

“You’re crazy. You want to call in a correction on a story about yourself because you want to make it worse. You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Then tell me some more after you get me—“

“Not yet,” Coriolanus said. His hands untied her robe like she was a gift box. The best present to come out of this engagement party, certainly. “[Y/N], do you know what you did last night?”

“A few things, at least.”

“Very funny. I mean…” Coriolanus sighed. His hormones raced. He could barely make eye contact with her since his eyes were drawn elsewhere. “I mean, you bulldozed your whole life. You Thirteen’d your life off the map.” he said. She nodded. She shivered at the reality of his statement. [Y/N] had nothing left but ashes. She had burned almost every bridge she had.

Except him.

“Not the part with you,” [Y/N] said. She smiled. She said it to please Coriolanus and it seemed to work. He was much easier to play than she thought he was. “You’re all I’ve got left, Coryo.” That was absolutely true. For better or worse, Coriolanus was inevitable.

“Let me take care of you,” Coriolanus said. “You’re about to be my wife. There’s no one else you need. You’re mine. I’m not going to let you fall through the cracks.” He said.

“Promise you won’t?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Coriolanus said honestly, but he didn’t feel strongly enough to really promise. “Do you like these panties?”

“Yes.”

“Shame. I’ll buy you a new set.” There was a horrible tearing sound and after that, Coriolanus’ mouth was on [Y/N]’s pussy. He licked and sucked for all he was worth.

[Y/N] did not expect Coriolanus to be good at this. All this time, she had disallowed him from touching her because she thought he would be a selfish lover. There was still potential that he was, but fuck, Coriolanus sure was good for this. His long thin nose bumped her clit as he pressed his tongue deeper into her folds and she moaned. Her hands sank into his curls.

“Don’t touch my hair.” Coriolanus said into her cunt.

“No,” She said, pulling on his hair. Coriolanus was irked, but let her do it anyway. He had never felt pleasure from someone tugging his hair like that before. [Y/N] wrapped her legs around his shoulders. Coriolanus used his strong, callused hands to hold her thighs open. He was going to make her cum with only his greedy mouth, like she had for him last night.

Quid pro quo. That was the nature of their whole operation, Coriolanus realized. It was fine by him.

It was still early and Coriolanus had the day off. He was ready to make up for lost time. He was going to make her cum in every room of their home. Coriolanus was addicted to her taste. He was addicted to her mind. All of this felt cloaked in danger; it was too personal for Coriolanus. Oh well.

By day’s end, [Y/N] wouldn’t be able to climb out of bed for a couple of days on her own. Coriolanus’ constant tongue-fucking pulling orgasms from her had turned her brain to mush, but not before she was able to force Coriolanus off and jot down a few headlines of her own while he marked up her neck.

‘GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE: FREAK OR FOOL?’

‘CAPITOL’S GOLDEN BOY FALLS FOR BAD GIRL.’

‘ALLEGED CHEATING SCANDAL SHAKES CAPITOL YOUTH.’

‘GAMEMAKER WALKS OUT THE VICTOR AFTER PARTY DISASTER.’

‘’WEDDING IS OFF’ SPECULATES PLINTH FAMILY.’

‘GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE LIES, CHEATS AND STEALS THE NIGHT.’

‘SNOW’S FALLING (STANDARDS).’

Half of her ideas dripped as moans while Coriolanus worked on her pussy. She was weak enough to do little more than pull his hair and try to clench around whatever he pushed into her. [Y/N]’s orgasm-addled mind finally comprehended that Coriolanus made her better. He made her more creative, bolder, and free from every burden except him. Finally, willingly, [Y/N] gave Coriolanus the last thing she had to give: Herself.

It felt fucking incredible

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst @spencereidbasis @a-mellifluous-life @daenerysqueenofhearts @heavqn @dangelnleif @lapisthelovely

apologies again for the tags that did NOT work.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #ballad of songbirds and snakes #truculent series

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winterarmyy · 11 months

Text

Behind The Facades | Part III

An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 1.9k++

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: near assault, bickering, mini(i think?) grovelling, tiny fluff and of course what else than angst.

P/S: Thank you so much for your support from previous chapters! At first, I didn't plan to make this a mini series at all, but here we are. Anyway, enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N wished that she could live up to her own expectations. That she would enjoy every second of this date. But who was she kidding?

How was she supposed to be present in the moment and savour the wonderful dinner or relish the breath-taking scene of glimmering city lights through the windows at their table, when all she could ever think of was Bucky?

Bucky.

That god damn son of a bitch, Bucky.

She felt suffocated by both anger and pain. Completely distracted by the thought of him.

"I can't do this." Y/N abruptly stood on her feet as she confessed her truth. She paced and paced, despite the voice of Daniel calling out her name from behind.

She could barely hear him, or maybe she shuts it down on purpose because she can't afford having more thoughts in her spiralling mind.

She only realized that she was out when the sound of the hustle bustle of the city invades her hearing. She stood still for a while, wondering if she let her feet takes her away, where will she ended up then.

Before she could walk away any further, she felt a grip on her arms, pulling her to the alleyway besides the building. It was surprisingly dark and eerie even with the lively lights of the city leaking through the ends of it.

Considering he was an agent of SHIELD, he does have a quick reflex when he managed to grab both of her wrists and pinned her to the wall.

Honestly, she wasn't completely oblivious at Daniel's physical advances throughout the night; hands hovering over her ass when he lead the way, fingers grazing her thighs through the slit of her dress.

They were subtle but still relentless.

"Just where the fuck do you think you're going?" Daniel seethed in her ears, his impatient breaths huffed in between her neck.

"Oh, for fuck sake." She sighed with a slight annoyance in her undertone. She was really tired of everything at this point. Especially when this fool who thought he could throw her around like a ragdoll.

Y/N managed to twist her hands free from his grasps as her knee raised towards his defenseless crotch. However, the hit never happened, as a familiar black and gold metal hand wrapped tightly around Daniel's neck.

In a split second, Bucky had Daniel up against the opposite wall, head slamming into the hard crooked bricks of the building. Loud cluttering sound of the empty steel cans echoed down the alleyway, almost drowning Daniel's strained groans.

Although Y/N was not able to see Bucky's face, but she could imagine the cold grim in his eyes when the grit of his voice growled, "Touch my girl again and you'll see what Hydra had made of me."

She averted her eyes down to the dark and murky color of the ground when a strike of pain ached within her chest.

She hates it when he acknowledged Hydra's label on him.

A weapon. A monster.

It's imbrute and dehumanizing.

Her view didn't change its imagery until a pair of black combat boots entered the picture. She lifted her gaze just to spat at her saviour, "I could've handled him myself."

Bucky's eyes soften as a proud smile appeared on his lips, "I know, doll."

Very contrast to his gentle expression, Y/N's face was rigid and irritated. Ironically, they were imitating each other's default guise.

Y/N rolled her eyes before pushing him aside and started to walk away, leaving Bucky alone in the dark alleyway. Though her attempt was unsuccessful when Bucky managed to grab a hold on her wrist, "Wait, y/n."

She halted but refused to look back, "No. So, can you let go of my hand now?" her hands bundled into fists as she try to hold back her wrath.

Though the sidewalk was not crowded with people, in fact it was nearly empty, however she didn't want to make a scene.

"Please, hear me out." Bucky pleaded.

At least, she tried to keep it in.

Y/N yanked her hand from his, "Why the fuck should I listen to you, Bucky?!" she snapped, eyes flashing with fury.

Bucky was honestly not prepared for this, he went here without thinking of a plan to coax her. He ran to her with a sole purpose of telling her the truth, and Y/N yelling at him is not helping his nervous wreck, "Because..bec.."

Growing impatient to his hesitation, she fumed even more, "What?! Just what is it that you want from me Buck--"

And then all loud sounds of the roaring rage in her head suddenly fell into complete silence when she felt his lips on hers.

The sensory within her skin abruptly heighten, becoming sensitive to Bucky's contrasting touch on her cheeks; hot and cold in either side as he cupped her face in his palms.

His soft lips, his intoxicating scent, his desperate touch.

Everything was too overwhelming for her short-circuited brain to process an appropriate response; in fact any type of response.

So when she let her body go on auto-pilot she found herself leaning forward, craving for more of the delicious friction.

It was a short lived moment of deafening sound of her own beating heart thundering in joy and excitement before the noises of rationality came rushing back to her.

Y/N ripped herself away in complete shock and panic, "Wh--what" even she herself was lost for words.

What have she done?

She pushed Bucky harshly she shouted, "Why? Why did you--? Y-you have a girlfriend, Bucky! You have Gail!"

God, how could she kissed her friend's boyfriend?

"I can't believe you just kiss me knowing that." And she reeled into the pure anxiety.

Bucky's pleads sounded muffled as her mind spiralled in guilt and shame. He grabbed her by the side of her arms before briefly pulling her back into reality, "Listen to me, y/n"

Y/N ran her hands through her hair, gripping it in her fists as her mind turned into complete chaos, "No, god this is wrong." He could hear panic in her trembling voice.

Bucky snapped as he yelled, "y/n, we broke up!"

There was a pause in time and air. Her body frozen as his words seemed to infinitely repeated in her ears. Head slowly turning towards Bucky; finally giving him the attention he demanded.

She just blankly stared at his truthful eyes with her own pair, wide open.

"He's bluffing. He's just making excuses."

"Bullshit! You looked very much in love last time I saw you, which let me remind you, it was few hours ago!"

Bucky thought about it for awhile before he replied, "It's hard to explain everything now but she wanted to end it, for my sake." He paused. "...It's over."

He was not lying. Y/N knew that; she could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. He was telling the truth. But, it didn't make sense; why why why.

Gail was perfect for Bucky. He needs someone like her. He deserves that type of love that she gave; soft and tender.

"No no no. That can't be it. W-why the fuck are you here then? You gotta get to her Bucky! You're not suppose to here. Not with me. Go before it's too late--"

He is worthy of someone who's completely unbreakable, someone that can stay with him even at the darkest times, someone that won't see him as a weapon, but a human being.

Someone who will love him unconditionally.

Because, Bucky of all people, deserves to be loved.

"You don't mean that, y/n"

It hurts Bucky to see that Y/N thought she was unfit for a place in his heart, when she literally owns it. It pained him that she keeps putting up this facade that she unable to see her true self.

It burns her heart to let him go but that shows how far she was willing to sacrifice for Bucky, "I do. I mean it.." she can feel her tears pooling in her eyes, "You deserv--"

"Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself." Bucky couldn't understand she keeps pushing him away. If he truly deserve to love someone then why can't it be her?

"Lying?"

Y/N find it harder to breathe as her chest tightens. Did he see right through her? Her voice trembled as she struggled to let the words out, "I..I'm not lying."

Bucky almost scoffed in disbelief, "You think I didn't noticed it, y/n?"

All those masks she hides in. Behind the facades she wore so boldly, so willingly. Hurting herself over and over everytime she had to put up a brave face.

No.

He made her do that.

If he was honest from the beginning then things wouldn't turn out like this. She wouldn't suffer as she did. She never needed to.

"And fuck was I so stupid to turn a blind eye on you for the sake of keeping you." Bucky was breathless with anger. A rage towards himself; for his foolishness.

"Do you know why I get together with Gail?" Bucky felt as if his chest was burning, searing with flames, that if this goes any further then his heart will turn to ashes.

But Y/N deserve the truth even though he knows he need to admit his shameful doings, "Because she reminds me so much of you. Warm, gentle and so unconditionally kind. And I let myself fooled by the illusion of you that I saw in her."

"I'm a bad man y/n. I hurt her. And I hurt you. Fuck, I hurt everyone around me." His eyes stung to think how effortlessly he destroy every single person he love; as if he was designed to do so.

"I know that I deserve every single curse and scrutiny that come my way. I've always known that."

"But for once in my fucked up life," his voice betrayed him by revealing its' stuttering form, "...I also know that I am lucky to have the chance to love someone as unforgivingly enchanting as you."

There was a brief pause where the air was still and soundless; reserved for the painful sounds of their breath.

His raw emotions was laid out unfiltered in a form of streaming tears across his cheeks, "I won't ask for your love in return." He reached his hand to hers and held it dearly, "All I ask is for your forgiveness."

His eyes searched her soul, willing her to bare with him a little longer, "Because god I can't lose you. I can't."

Bucky felt like he was drowning; as he was 70 years ago at the Austrian Alps. The unbareable emotions rushed in like the frozen waters that filled his lungs.

Panic. Shame. Regret.

Y/N never thought she could come this far.

She thought she would able to lift the weight; and with the long record of success, she thought she wouldn't able to break.

But after all, she was just a human and there will always be a limit to where she will end up at.

What's the point of pretending when the person she loves is as miserable as her?

The tripedation of her only give false signals to Bucky; this is it, he was losing her.

But, there it was, the forgiving embrace he longed for. In her arms the world stopped still on its axis. He felt her body pressed in, soft and warm. This was the love he'd waited for, prayed for. Bucky's shaky hands roamed from the side of her waist before his arms crossed behind her, squeezing her closer, tighter.

How could she not forgive him? When he had pour all of him as he did.

There was no time, no wind, no sound. Just the heat of their body against each other. The melody of their heartbeats intertwining. Bucky's mind was at peace. So was hers.

No more more pretending.

No more putting on act.

She settled into the crook of his neck and whispered so soft and quiet that some won't be able to hear but Bucky did.

"I love you, too."

End.

<< Part II

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for your time to read my work. Feel free to express your thoughts in the comment/reblog! I love to hear from you~

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350 @calwitch @unadulteratedbeardpeanut @kandis-mom @abitofblues @obsessivelycraftygothfandomwitch @its-daydreamer23 @hopelessromantic423 @rabbitrabbit12321 @lovely-geek @loonalockley @superforgottensoul @awkwardalie @peter-parkers-gf @opheliabarnes @blackhawkfanatic

#winterarmyyfics #behind the facades au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #bucky angst

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logical-grave · 4 months

Text

✧ Pretty Little Thing Ch.1 ✧

♡ Pairing ♡ - Rafe Cameron x Plus Size!Reader

♡ Warnings ♡ - Smut, Oral (f receiving), dirty talk, derogatory names, free use kink, Unprotected sex, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, mean!Rafe, some praise kink, mentions of blood, and unedited mistakes.

♡ A/N ♡ - This is so self-indulgent, it's not even funny. I swear I blacked out writing this. Anyway, Pls enjoy

♡ Word count ♡ - 2.5k

I tapped the top of his forehead, heavy breaths constricting my words as I attempted to form them. My brain felt comparable to mush, but I simply couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted his head up, his pupils blown wide, the familiar green now a simple ring around a black abyss. His nose, mouth, and essentially the entire lower half of his face glistened with a mixture of my slick and his spit in the soft glow of the lamp on my side table. He looked depraved and the only thing satiating him was between my legs, since his incessant need to see how many times I could come needed to be answered. It was three to be exact and each one more drawn out than the one before as I have now reached the limit one could handle the blissful feeling.

“I- can’t, Rafe. I can’t-” I breathed out with each word, the overstimulation thwarting my ability to form a proper sentence. I looked down at my thighs that he gripped with such fervor in his time between them and sure enough bruises littered my skin. I couldn’t complain, purely due to the fact that they were developed from a place of pleasurable pain. Rafe blew out a sharp breath from his nose, a look of frustration taking over his cold features. I wanted to reach and caress his face, my hand even itching to do so, yet I refrained from the intimate action.

It wasn’t much earlier he was furiously banging on my window, and out of fear of him shattering the glass and waking up the other members of my family at three in the morning, I had allowed him in. He didn’t even waste a breath of explaining the blood on his shirt, or the raw skin of his knuckles. He simply used his stance and intimidation to coerce me into stepping back until the back of my legs had hit the end of my bed, the cool comforter contrasting the heat that began to inflame my skin. He simply pushed on my shoulder, enough to make me understand he wanted me on the bed, presumably to open my mouth and satisfy him. Yet, he surprised me by pushing my shoulder further until my back was reclined against the comfort of my bed. I had propped myself up on my elbows in time to see his large frame kneel before me and hook the thigh of my leg over his shoulder. I blush even now as I reminisce the sound of my panties tearing, since they seemed to pose an impediment to his intention between my legs. The ripped fabric now disregarded behind him, and he began before I could wonder why he was so reluctant to speak a word.

Rafe now pushed my leg off his shoulder, the weight of it hitting the floor sounding a thump against the wood floor under us. He stood to his full height, beginning to unbutton his shirt, the blood splattered across it registering in my mind again. He stepped towards my bathroom, turning on the light and looking over himself. He washed his hands after scanning his own frame, making sure there were no open wounds and such. I sighed and stood up, gripping the post of my bed frame as the sudden feeling of my legs shaking and not being able to hold all of my weight yet. I fell back onto the bed, my legs still shaking, and I looked over at Rafe. “Can you bring me a hand towel please?” I requested, bold in doing so since he seemed as if the last thing he wanted was to be fetching me things. He tossed me the hand towel on the counter of the bathroom sink and I used it to wipe down between my legs and inner thighs. I conjured enough strength to stand up, the shake of my legs down to a minimum now as I made my way towards my bathroom.

I watched as he squeezed a hand towel that he had used to wipe himself down, the water he wrung from it tinted red. He winced lightly as he wiped his knuckles down, looking at his hands with a face of disappointment. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” My voice was soft and low when I asked the question. I leaned on the door frame, looking up at him as he continued, shaking his head before looking at me. “No, I don’t want to talk. I just want to sleep. Can I do that without you asking me fifty fucking questions?” His jaw ticked, his eyes cutting into me deeper than his words. I let out a low breath as I nodded, pushing off the door frame and positioning myself into bed. I turned off the light coming from the lamp beside me, tucking myself into my comforter. He wasn’t far behind me, turning the light off in the bathroom as well before discarding his khakis with his shirt, dressed only in his boxers. He was an Adonis, I could admit, but never to his face.

Rafe climbed into the other side of the bed, under the comforter, and I was immediately greeted with his body heat. He reached his arms out, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me into him as he met me halfway. He folded his other arm under my head, acting it as a pillow and inhaling my scent from behind me. I adjusted myself, reluctant to relax against him. He seemed to notice, deciding to pull me in more, his hand moving to cup my breast and placing a small chaste kiss on the back of my neck. “Don’t do that.” I muttered, squirming slightly to drive my point. Rafe didn’t seem to like the bite back I gave, but he let it go.

I’m not sure what exactly prompted me to agree to our relationship. It was formed organically, I’ll admit. It was conjured one night about six months ago, the two of us finding solace in each other after sharing a bottle of whiskey and ended up entangled in his sheets. After that, we started using each other more than we anticipated and decided to clarify the boundaries of our relationship. It was simple, I was to present myself to him whenever he wanted, establishing a free use aspect and in exchange, I received weekly deposits into my account for a thousand dollars. After the first couple of times, Rafes respect for me slowly diminished, and I didn’t blame him. But I needed the money, and I wasn’t going to bite back and lose out of the only thing that’s aiding me in getting out of this hellhole one day.

The next day, when the sun graced my eyes, I felt the secure arms of Rafe still surrounding me, alarm instantly shooting through me. “Rafe.” I called, patting his arms and attempting to pull on his wrists to release me, yet his grip seemed to tighten. “Rafe, wake up.” I nudged my elbow into his side and that seemed to wake him. Immediately, he released his hold on me, blinking rapidly as he looked around my room as if it was unfamiliar. “What time is it?” He asked in a groggy voice and I took in his state of disheveled hair, a flushed face due to warmth and the sun catching the gorgeous green of his eyes. I looked at my phone screen. “It’s 8:45. My shift at the country club starts at 9:15.” I urged, moving out of my bed, rushing to discard my sleepwear. I pulled open my dresser, pulling out my assigned polo and a white pleated skirt. Apparently, the uniform is appealing to golfers according to my managers when I requested to wear something with more coverage.

I looked over my shoulder at Rafe, seeing that he hasn’t made any haste to dress himself. I walked to him as I put on my polo and stood at his bedside with my hands on my hips. “Rafe, I really need to leave, and you can’t stay here. I’m kicking you out.” The angry expression on my face and my point to my window he had entered through not even six hours earlier seemed rude, but I wasn’t going to take any of his shit this early. I was only met with a smirk on his face as he removed one of his hands from behind his head and flipped back my comforter, uncovering his morning wood. “No, I’ll be late.” I rolled my eyes at his suggestion, stalking to the other side of my room to put on panties and my skirt. “It wasn’t a request.” He said as he rose from my bed, striding over to me. His hand was on his cock over his boxers, smoothing over it to entice himself.

He was right, I technically couldn’t say no, that was our agreement. Rafe turned me around, his large hands holding my hips as he brought them back so he could grind on my ass. He made a sharp intake, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on my shoulder, my hands holding onto his wrists on either side of me. “Please be quick.” I pouted as he walked us over to my bed, his large hand splayed out on my back and pushed me down into the mattress to bend over for him. I blushed at the small feeling of a wetness growing between my thighs, and I planted my face in the mattress as I let him have his way with me. I could feel him drawing out this sudden need for me as he slowly pulled down my panties. “These are starting to get in my way. You’re not wearing them anymore after today, understood?” He asked and I nodded. Rafe caught me off guard, spanking my ass cheek and gripping the flesh harshly as I yelped out. “Understood?” He repeated. “Yes, I understand.”

He flipped up my skirt, kneading the flesh of my ass in his hands, his favorite part of my body. He’s never confessed this to me, but he always played with me before inserting himself, so I deduced. I looked over my shoulder at him and watched as he licked his fingers to abruptly insert in me, yet a devilish grin overcame his face. “You’re already so fucking wet for me.” He teased as he lined himself up with my entrance before sinking into me until he couldn’t further. We both moan at the familiar and exciting feeling, one that I wouldn’t care to admit. “Rafe, just fuck me already.” I was beginning to get impatient and not due to my lack of punctuality when it came to my job but because each time he entered me, I found myself wanting it more and more. He let out a low chuckle, taking himself out and resting himself between my ass cheeks, pushing them together to create friction as he dragged himself back and forth.

“I’ll take my sweet fucking time with you.” He spoke, and I let out a gasp as he reached and gripped my hair, pulling on it, and I let out a wince. Rafe entered me again, before pulling himself out slowly and rutting back into me. I moaned at each thrust, the slap of his hips hitting my ass sounding along with my whimpers. I gripped the sheets of my bed, moaning as he pulled on my hair, my neck craning back. His pace picked up, his hand letting go of my hair and placing both hands on my hips, pushing me forward just to pull me back harder. “Rafe, I can’t.” I whimpered, a mix of pleasure and pain conjuring with each of his thrusts, Rafe reached and hooked his hand under my knee, resting it on the bed. It seemed to open me up, allowing him to glide in and out of me with ease and giving me a sense of relief.

“Shut up, you fucking slut.” Rafe spit out, spanking my ass. He liked degrading me, sure to remind me of my lack of self-respect since I let him fuck me whenever he likes. Worst part, It kills me that I wasn't repulsed by it, almost welcoming it. Rafe moaned, his thrusts becoming more powerful, signifying he was close to cumming. I reach behind me and grip Rafe’s wrist, silently telling him to calm down, but it doesn’t leave my lips, the pleasure blurring any words that I attempt to speak. “You take my cock so well.” He groaned, digging his fingers into my hips as he fucked me with slow, languid strokes, adding to my torment. I looked at the wall opposite of my bed where my dresser sits, and a large mirror hung above it. I can see Rafe taking his time, watching his cock disappear inside me before pulling out and inserting himself back in. “Rafe, please.” I mewl, watching him in the mirror, almost entranced by the view in front of him. Something clicked, and he continued his pounding, his hips moving faster as they smacked against my own.

Then, I felt the familiar throb of Rafes cock, followed by a string of moans as he releases inside me, filling me up with his cum. I sag against the bed, dropping the leg he had hiked up for better access. Rafe pants behind me, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he smacks my ass once more. “Fuck, that doesn’t get old. It’s like you get tighter every time.” Rafe pulled out, my walls clenching around nothing as his cum dripped out of me and I immediately crossed my ankles, hopefully holding it in long enough for me to saunter to the bathroom to clean up.

I push off the bed, but I’m stopped before I make any progress, Rafes hand pressing me down on the bed. “What’re yo-” I’m interrupted by a gasp I let out as I feel the fabric of a towel being wiped over my thighs. I look over at the mirror once more and to my surprise, Rafe is cleaning me up. He never has in all of our times together, usually worrying about himself and not even considering me. There were times he’d finish in me, tuck himself away and leave before I could even blink. “Thank you.” I muttered, standing upright when he finished cleaning me up. I pulled up my panties as Rafe got dressed, lacing up my shoes as well. “I’ll take you to work.” He said, putting on his shirt, and I shook my head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll grab a ride from my br-”

“I’m taking you to work.” He repeats himself, his look stern, and I simply nod in response. Before I could put up any more protest, he made his way out of my window, likely to start his truck up before I made it downstairs.

Whoever this new Rafe was, he was starting to grow on me.

Hope you guys liked it!! and lmk what you think of the new format with the small lettering :)

#Rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #Rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut #outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron angst #Rafe Cameron x plus size!reader

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unhelpfulfemme · 9 months

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Thalias from the Thrawn Ascendancy trilogy is how you do a female character with "traditionally feminine" virtues correctly.

The culture of the Ascendancy involves using young girls - the only Force sensitives their race has, since they all lose their Force sensitivity when they enter puberty - as ship navigators necessary to navigating the chaotic part of space that they live in. These girls are taken from their families at a young age and raised by a series of caregivers, and just like a bunch of plenty of carers IRL a lot of them are dogshit at their job. As someone who's worked similar jobs and watched other people work similar jobs, Timothy Zahn is BRILLIANT at portraying all of this - it gives me feelings like I can't describe. If you've ever seen a mean preschool teacher harranguing their charges or a shitty foster parent who doesn't treat their foster kids as individuals or anyone of the sort, you will feel this in your bones. Zahn goes hard on the "children are people" themes in this trilogy and I love love love this - it really means a lot to me to see a man known for his military and engineering competence porn stuff put so much thought and care into portraying caregiving as the important and complicated task that it is without coming off as sexist or patronizing towards it.

Anyway, Thalias is one such navigator, but even though most of them want nothing to do with the whole trauma-inducing system once they grow out of it, Thalias ends up returning as a caregiver and puts so much effort, compassion and logical thought into it that it makes me cry tears of joy. She draws on her own experiences but is quick to course correct when she realizes that Che'ri's experiences are different from her own (Thalias loved to read as a kid and still finds it comforting, Che'ri hates reading), she treats Che'ri with empathy and gives her as much autonomy and independence as she is allowed to. She uses a scientific method to figure out how the navigator powers work and adjust Che'ri's work routine accordingly - something no one has ever thought to do. She advocates for Che'ri with the rest of the ship's crew. She's amazing, and Zahn also makes sure to show how HARD it can be at times rather than just make her a perfect mind reader who always knows what her charge is thinking and what to say or do.

She's also kinda flawed - she seems to have an unhealthy obsession with Thrawn because he was once nice to her when she was a miserable kid in the throes of the shitty navigator system, and it comes off as kind of weird or cringe at times, and that's a GOOD thing in my book because it makes her character more 3D.

ALSO, the really nice part of it is that these books are filled to the brim with cool female characters that all feel really really different from each other, so Thalias being the nurturing, diplomatic type doesn't feel like Zahn sending some kind of message - the other prominent character is Ar'alani, a clever military woman who's a natural leader, excellent at handling her subordinates and recognizing their talents, excellent at handling politics even though she hates it, excellent at improvising on the fly, and also a kind and loyal friend. A lot of the other soldier or officer types are also women, and Zahn's other works also have a shitton of varied and cool women, so you feel safe in the knowledge that anything Thalias says or does is indicative of Thalias as an individual and not some vague idea of what women are like that the author has.

I also love how her character provides a contrast to all the "necessary evil" and "people are assets"-type thinking that a lot of the Ascendancy's more military types endorse (which make up a large percentage of the main cast, since this is mil scifi after all) - her conversation with Samakro about this is just chef's kiss to me. I feel like it's cool that we get this kind of POV because to me it serves as confirmation that Zahn knows what he's doing here - he's not being a stupid edgelord fanboy in love with the concept of doing shitty things for the greater good, he's just keenly observing how different people approach life and how all of these sorts of thinking are very useful in certain situations and deeply stupid in others. And the topic is treated with zero smugness - I've read things where similar arguments are used as a way of showing how wise and perfect one of the characters is and how stupid the other one is (coughvorkosigansagacough), but here everyone is treated with respect and empathy and consideration.

THALIAS SUPREMACY!!!

#Mitth'ali'astov #Thalias #Thrawn Ascendancy #Timothy Zahn #THALIAS SUPREMACY

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chayannesegg · 4 months

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something else about fit and tubbo’s relationship: it’s very special to me and they do love each other very much, but i do think this current tension was almost bound to happen not matter what. even without the tubbo homophobia. yes, tubbo self-sabotaged and made the situation current happen. yes, fit is valid to be upset at tubbo. but the unequal footing tubbo was reacting to is VERY real and something they BOTH built and something I think ONLY tubbo is fully aware of.

while i don’t think fit and tubbo’s relationship is paternal at all, i do think it is heavily informed by the age difference. when they meet, tubbo is young, inexperienced, and reminds fit of his son. in contrast, fit is a stable older presence who knows the island secrets. their early dynamic is a bit like a mentorship: fit checks in on tubbo, tubbo asks about the island, fit decides what to tell tubbo, tubbo sees how someone with experience handles the island.

losing the eggs only strengthens this pattern. tubbo is a mess and relies a lot on fit (and pac) to help get him through. fit is hurting too, but obviously he is not going to share all his fears with a teenager having a breakdown (that’s not how he operates, not when he can channel his emotions into something productive instead like checking on tubbo, pac, and the island). tubbo meanwhile strives to have walls as strong as fit's, but even if he won’t talk about it directly, his emotions bleed through a lot of the time anyway. so fit continues to check in on tubbo, and tubbo continues to let fit in and they grow closer because of it. we have lots of sweet moments in their friendship of tubbo letting fit see his vulnerabilities (about the eggs, with fred, about his day to day concerns) but we don’t see a lot of fit sharing his vulnerabilities. early on, fit makes it very clear to tubbo that tubbo has not earned the right to his secrets, and what he knows about the island, and what he does. fit visits tubbo and then leaves to go on secret jobs tubbo knows nothing about and can’t follow him to. tubbo doesn’t know anything about fit’s memories, or his resistance work, or his purpose. this was an initial source of tension between them, and while tubbo eventually decided to trust fit anyway, to this day, tubbo must be aware that he still hasn’t earned fit's full trust. and that fit, for all he knows tubbo’s problems, hasn’t shared many in return. the only exceptions to this that I can think of are 1) fit’s feelings for pac, which tubbo is privy to and while he teases fit, he is supportive of (which tubbo lost access to—at least in his head—when fitpac started dating, hence the acting out) and 2) fit coming to tubbo about the cats (which tubbo does NOT recognise as a moment of intimacy, that baffoon just laughs it off). i’m not blaming fit for this, as much as he loves tubbo, tubbo is an emotionally unstable teenager (turned young adult) whose bad at both secret-keeping and tact (and fit holds some very sensitive very dangerous secrets), but it definitely creates a lopsidedness in their friendship.

especially because tubbo DOES respect this boundary of fit’s. while sometimes he pesters him for access to the office or insider info, he doesn’t seek fit’s personal business out behind his back really. meanwhile, the few times that tubbo has tried to keep something from them (kinda attempting to mirror fit’s own walls imo), fit and pac have gone behind his back to find out what it is. for example, them going to quackity’s house to investigate fred’s kidnapping without telling him, or them going and reading tubbo’s investigation room about the fed worker killings. now, i get why pac and fit—nosy and concerned as they are—do this, but it’s not great communication and it’s not a great show of trust.

all of this results in fit having a LOT of insight and access into tubbo’s life and insecurities and tubbo having comparatively little in return. and fit deciding how and when he interacts with tubbo and tubbo relying on fit to engage (lest he interrupt something secretive). they have all this restrictions and intricacies for how they interact and both of them have fed into this dynamic—it’s familiar and easy for both of them (fit isn't risking his secrets by trusting tubbo more, tubbo isn't risking rejection by asking for more)—even though their friendship has progressed and needs more balance. it worked ok for them for awhile bc they do both care for each other a lot, but it was NEVER going to be sustainable. any shift in dynamic that lengthened the distance between them would have unsteadied it.

but while tubbo is acutely aware of this tension and sensitive to it changing (and lashing out in response), fit has never really had to think about it. given the way they’ve interacted, fit’s own feelings have always been a bit separate from their friendship. it’s only now that tubbo's emotions/actions have hurt fit that fit wants his feelings acknowledged. he wants a more even dynamic, but he doesn’t realize that their friendship doesn’t feel like a “two-way street” because it never has been, almost by design.

i don’t think tubbo has the experience or insight into fit’s emotions to realize what fit needs organically. i don't think fit can understand how his relationship with pac isolated tubbo even if he wants it to stay the same. i don’t think fit recognises the ways tubbo continues to show his trust in fit (like still inviting fit to follow him on the fred date or not investigating his secrets). i don't think tubbo understands why fit is upset with him (just that he is) or confidence to ask.

i don’t think either of them are going to properly explain their concerns to each other, if they have the words to properly explain it. all of this makes me think we’re only in for more fit & tubbo miscommunication in the coming weeks, but i DO think we still have hope. because these fools do love each other and pac (who I didn’t talk about much at all) & ramon & sunny (tho she’s also hurting) aren’t just gonna stand idly by while they continue to hurt each other.

#qsmp #qsmp fit #qsmp tubbo #listen i just think so much about them #have you considered that tubbo has let fit witness every aspect of his relationship with fred #have you considered that level of trust #this doesn't even get into how morning crew is changing as more people join that time slot #and how the fitpac date comes right at the time everything starts to change and tubbo is reacting to that as well #anyway WRITE THAT BIRTHDAY LETTER TUBBO!!#make it good!!!

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sedgewick-gayble · 9 months

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This is me slightly editing and reposting my ramble from a reblog so it actually shows up on the LD tag lol. Hopefully it's more sensical also

I'm so abnormal about those two old gay men. Okay. Listen to me

I can only envision them actually loving each other in the context of it being silent and unspoken acts of devotion and service that carry an emotional, intimate weight they're both aware of but never say or comment on out loud; to themselves, to eachother, or to anyone else--because if they address it then it becomes so much more real and neither of them can handle that. Otherwise all it is is desire, whether it be one-sided from Mordecai or mutual (I prefer it being mostly if not fully one-sided bc it's more angsty and that gives me life but it could go either way)

Mordecai is emotionally and romantically repressed to all hell and back. The comment Tracy made about him being asexual 'either naturally or out of his own choice' is particularly notable here, as it could totally be interpreted as him purposefully ignoring and suppressing both his sexual and romantic desires just as much as him just being ace/aroace AND THIS CONNECTS to vikdecai because he does so because he doesn't want to admit to himself he's in love. He doesn't want to admit to himself he's in queer love. And he doesn't want to admit to himself that he's in queer love with his coworker, Viktor, who's one of the closest and most trustworthy people in his life, who's bond with him could easily shatter if he finds out and rejects him

Once he can properly identify what he's feeling and figures out he has said desires, ESPECIALLY towards Viktor, he becomes more hostile and argumentative with him to compensate for that and convince himself into thinking he never felt that way. See paragraph above

BUT bottling up his emotions in such a way backfires for him and in a moment of weakness he releases all of that pent up need and they make out or fuck or whatever and then pretend it never happened afterwards and this cycle repeats until mordecai leaves for marigold .

That's how I view vikdecai. Two men who bury their feelings deep down and probably deal with some internalized homophobia who want eachother carnally and hate themselves for it (in the case of viktor it's because he has a wife and kid and in mordecais case he views it as weakness and a flaw to have an emotional soft spot for somebody, especially a coworker in such a dangerous field of work)

AND THEN there's more complications once you tie in the similarities and contrasts between his relationship with viktor and his relationship with nico BUT I'm not making much sense already anyways kgdcrhgdvc

#lackadaisy ♧#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy comic #lackadaisy mordecai #mordecai heller #mordecai x viktor #viktor x mordecai #vikdecai

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pear1escence · 6 months

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Bedrotters

Keegan P. Russ x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: brief mention of weapons and killing.

A/N: Eh. Eughhhh.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

He was dead asleep as soon as his arms were wrapped around you. His head resting in the crook of your neck, taking in the scent of that sugary perfume he loved, deafening the soft snores that fell from his lips.

There’s a bitterness to his return, edging at the feeling of relief that had soothed your soul when his car had pulled into the driveway. A numb feeling of sadness, a trace of the worry that gnawed at you for every day that had passed since he was supposed to be back.

He’s okay. He’s safe, here, with you. It’s comforting, having his body pressed up to yours, a physical confirmation of the words you keep repeating in your head.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Keegan’s still asleep by the time you’ve left the house, a quick run to the grocery store to grab your missing ingredients for tonight’s dinner. The man must’ve tired himself out to the bone, cause when you return and the house is still silent, no sound of his records playing some old song, no sound of metal scraping against metal while he worked on some repair in the kitchen, you find him sleeping in your bedroom.

His gear still in a pile on the floor, stained with dirt and blood. The digital clock on his nightstand tells you that you have more than enough time to get dinner ready. Enough time to have him in your arms for a little while longer.

The sound of one of your favourite CDs, a collection of slow, melancholic love ballads plays from your speakers on the dresser. The words sound from your lips, a lullaby sung softly for your lover.

You remain like that for a while, humming to the tune of whatever songs are playing. Your mind wanders on its own as you admire Keegan, looking so pretty even with his face still stained from his eyeblack. He’s lying comfortably in your heavy duvet with a soft expression on his face, a stark contrast to the hard image he splayed out for the rest of the world to see.

Your thoughts wander off on their own unmarked path, taking your watchfulness with them. Keegan stirs awake without you taking notice, pale blue eyes watching you as fingertips trace absentminded circles into his skin.

His voice brings you back to the main road, your eyes falling to him as he speaks. “Wish I could read your mind, know where your head goes when you zone out like that.” He sounds tired, voice scratchy from his slumber. His hand lifts to ruffle your hair, and just because you’ve missed him so much you let him, even though you’d otherwise flick his hand away in annoyance of him messing up your locks.

“Was just thinking about you.” You murmur, a genuine smile on your face as his hand moves to cup your cheek. He’s so gentle with you in these moments, when you’ve been yearning for each other for weeks and finally come back together. The roughness of which he handles his guns, the harsh grip he welds his knife with as it sinks into the flesh of an enemy soldier, is reformed so that he can touch you how he wishes. Smoothed down so that he can trace your skin and heal your scars instead of leaving you hurting from open wounds.

It’s difficult, leaving the rough environment of his work to come home to you, where he can be soft and gentle all he wants for a limited amount of time. It’s almost never sufficient, you want more, and you’re greedy for wanting more, but you know it batters him more than it does you.

Keegan’s body shifts upwards, his back slotting against the headboard as his arms hoist you up to hold your body to his. “Hey, stay with me.” He reinforces his words with a pinch to your side, causing you to yelp.

You glare at him, dramatically rolling your eyes at him before leaning into his chest and sticking your tongue out at him. “I am here. Haven’t gone anywhere, Keegs.” He scoffs, arms trapping you as they wrap around your body to pull you even closer, muscles tightening as if you would try to escape. “Y’know what I mean. Don’t like it when you slip away so easily.”

You could be falling asleep yourself nestled up to Keegan like this. A big hand slips underneath your shirt to squish the softness of your stomach, his head tipping forward to nibble at your shoulder. “S’long as you’re not getting stuck on stupid stuff, don’t put yourself in a bad mood, baby.” You hum in agreement. “Mm. Need to get dinner ready.”

He laughs silently, “Playing housewife?” He mutters against your skin, placing a loving kiss on your shoulder. You snort. “You need a shower. You stink.” You respond, feigning annoyance. You shriek as he turns your body to push your face close to him, “No, no! I’m not joking, I’m gonna need to change the bedsheets now, sweaty old man.” You giggle, glancing up at him and catching the sass of his eyeroll. “Mhm. Shut it.”

#Keegan p russ #cod Keegan #Keegan Russ #Keegan Russ x reader #Keegan p Russ x reader #cod x reader

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vegasandhishedgehog · 1 year

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It's easy to complain about how MSP left any address toward homophobia to the last episode and it remained fairly mild but I really wanted to point out what things about it were incredibly significant.

They could have kept it like Bad Buddy where it was a universe where it didn't really exist or just wasn't mentioned. They could have totally done that. I wouldn't have blamed them for that choice either, considering the tone of the series remaining so lighthearted throughout. Homophobia is more than just a serious issue - it can have dangerous implications. The closest this show wanted to get with danger was Gun's mom needing surgery, so before watching the episode I was really curious about how they would handle it.

Starting from the beginning of the episode and seeing the contrast between Gun telling his mom about Tinn, and Tinn's mom seeing how scared her son is and deciding not to ask. Gun has such a wonderful relationship with his mother. She's all he has for family and they have come to love and depend on each other so much, and the show has given us enough clues to the way she thinks that her supporting her son without issue was no surprise. Tinn's mother has been set up to appear that she feels differently, but it all boils down to her worrying for him rather than about him. Tinn gets his supportive, protective way of loving from her (which is the sweetest thing to me, considering their relationship isn't as strong). All she wants is for him to go through life without having to jump over hurdles for his happiness. Considering the privileges he's had as her son, it troubles her that he felt any reason to hide his true relationship with Gun and only wants to assure him that he could have come to her about it earlier. She sees his fear and rightly decides to let him come forward when he chooses.

The deal with the photo outing them and how all that goes down was interesting. It goes without saying, whoever took the picture had no business posting about them and it's unfortunate they never get found and reprimanded for their actions. What I loved was how the show chose to demonstrate how attitudes have really changed among younger generations. The whole conversations about "no one cares!" and "I think we were too afraid in the beginning," were really great points to make. The more exposure the younger generations have had to queer identities through media and people being open about them in real life, the more freedoms we have gained. Sometimes letting fear hold you back can suffocate you. Being outed is awful, but showing that you can not be a jackass about it is important. Also, don't go after my boy Gun for trying to give them a cover story, because this was the one circumstance where he saw Tinn being more at risk than him and he acted the way he thought Tinn would for him. It ended up not really mattering anyway, because people supported them and Tinn understood that's what Gun was trying to do.

And then we got the few bad opinions from the older generation. From a teacher they had all previously respected! Because unfortunately, disappointingly, that is so incredibly common. Even his way of trying to explain "oh I don't actually hate you guys I just don't take you seriously," was so important to include. Homophobes will try to twist their ideas into something that's less than the hateful bullshit it is and out themselves being as reductive as they truly are. Of course, it got escalated for the sake of run time and getting the issue dealt with immediately. Thank you Kajorn for having a pretty awesome come to jesus gay moment.

Finally, my favorite part!! Tinn's mom not only making it clear she's okay with his relationship but explaining just how offensive his teacher had actually been. I really thought her position as the school principal would remain as a wedge between her and Tinn because it was treated that way for so long. I didn't expect it to have any more use than that. But having an authority figure of a school openly call out their colleague and show support for her students meant so much to me! Reminder: this story sets out to say that teen's experiences are not trivial and they're people with hopes and dreams and struggles and have much less say in their daily lives. Adults stepping up and supporting children is so necessary. Adults stepping up and protecting queer children is a desperate need. Any other school principal doing less than that is unworthy of their job. And it goes without saying that being his mother and being so openly supportive before he's even had a chance to ask her is just the cherry on top.

The homophobia arc wasn't for everyone but it had intent and purpose and it executed it just right for me. It said "yeah we know it's there but it's horseshit tbh so we're having our boys sing to each other on stage knowing the most important people in their lives have their back." And then they got to say "I love you" and share their first kiss in the privacy they deserved.

#my school president #my school president the series #msp #tinngun #guntinn

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 11 days

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Sorry if you've already talked about this but I just found your blog and I have a question. I basically stopped watching the show and Gang of Secrets but I'd like to know your thoughts on how the show handles secret identities?

Personally I really like secret identites as a trope and the way you can use it to make different character dynamics, and I feel like the show underutilizes it at best and at worst seem actively annoyed by the constraint they gave themselves.

Like this is somehow a show where when Alya and Nino found out each other's identities, it directly contributed to them each getting taken out in Heroes' Day, and when Marianne got Akumatized she instantly spilled the Guardian's existence, and both time the two leads have had identity reveals it lead to a world-destroying catastrophe, and yet half the fandom and seemingly the writers act like it's at most and inconvenience?

Let me know if I'm off or seasons 4 and later do anything to contradict me but it was one of my issues at least and I felt like there were so many fun things they could have done with the set up. Sorry again if this is too long/rambly or whatever lol

Long asks are fine! Heavens knows I tend to make long posts. It's why I use the queue instead of just posting things as I get them.

Anyway, secret identities and identity shenanigans are the things that brought me to this show. They're nothing new in superhero setups, but most shows in this genre have the identity stuff as more of a fun bonus element than the main focus. The idea of a show that was more centered around these concepts via a romance plot sounded like a blast!

It has not been a blast.

The main problem with the identity stuff is that the show's guiding rule seems to be maintaining the secret identities at all cost because a reveal means no more love square and, at this point, it's pretty clear that thy're going to drag the love square out until the bitter end. This means that they actively avoid anything which puts them into a position to push a reveal. The problem with that is that the love square isn't some cute running gag that has no real impact on the plot. The love square is the show's main focus, so you cannot treat it the way you normally treat an identity shenanigans setup.

To give an example for contrast, the show Phineas and Ferb has a running gag involving the titular characters' pet platypus Perry. Unbeknownst to the boys, Perry is a secret agent who saves the world on a regular basis while his "owners" remain oblivious to the fact that Perry is anything more than a normal pet platypus. It's a good running gag because there's no reason why the boys need to find out Perry's secret. There is no overarching plot that's in limbo until this moment happens. It's just a silly thing that could be completely removed from the show without any major impacts.

Consider the difference between that and the love square. You remove the love square and you have a wildly different show because the love square isn't a gag, it's a plot and plots need to progress to feel meaningful. Marinette and Adrien should be growing closer on at least one side of the masks and they should be doing so in a way that makes it feel like the reveal is drawing ever closer.

For example, the fact that they're now dating should be a source of tension. The last time these two dated someone, they both ended up single due to the lies that come with a secret identity. But while Lukanette and Adrigami both lasted a few weeks at most, Adrienette got a whole season without a single identity-based conflict because acknowledging the identity conflict means progress on the reveal and we can't have that because the reveal is apparently being saved for the end of the show.

We don't even get much in the way of developing their relationship because letting them grow closer in a meaningful way means knowing more about each other which, once again, means that a reveal becomes inevitable. This is probably why we got the Derision retcon where Marinette suddenly couldn't talk to Adrien while dating him. No talking means no growing meaningfully closer means no reveal.

It's incredibly frustrating because reveal plots simply aren't structured to be long running plots. This is why most identity shenanigans media either focuses on the reveal and ends up relatively short (ex: the movie You Got Mail) or does the running gag thing where the identity stuff is a source of comedy, but the actual plot is something else that would technically work perfectly fine even if you removed the identity hi-jinx (ex: the anime Spy X Family).

When it comes to the love square, my preference is to take the first option and make it resolve within the first few seasons, but if we must draw it out until the show's end, then I would make all of the following changes to turn the square from a serious plot to more of a running gag:

Do NOT let Chat Noir confess. Instead, make it that he's always setting up romantic dates or confessions for Ladybug that end up stopped because of an akuma or fans or whatever. This would make Marinette's ongoing failures feel more balanced as they're both doing the same thing. It would also turn the confession into more of a comedy element instead of a dramatic one.

Focus more on plot elements unrelated to the love square, distracting the audience from the romance with shinny subplots like a Lila take down.

Don't have the secret identities be a source of conflict. Have Chat Noir totally uninterested in a reveal.

Have Hawkmoth be someone other than Gabriel. The less serious the show's basic setup, the less serious audiences will expect it to be

Of course, all of those are pretty massive changes to the show's basic setup, which is why I say they should have just let the reveal happen. Then they could have actually let all sorts of fun moments happen as we build to the reveal because it's no longer a thing that they writers have to avoid. As someone who has written multiple stories with a reveal, the fun really is planning it all out so that the tension and/or the comedy builds and builds to a dramatic crescendo where everything feels oh so satisfying.

When you live in fear of the reveal and awkwardly shoehorn things in, you get boring things like Gabriel's identity being leaked from a random play, Marinette's crush being revealed by freaking Andre, and Nino's identity reveal leading to nothing interesting because it can't because then we'd be drawing closer to a love square reveal and, well, you know the drill. It's also why you get messed up crappy episodes like Chat Blanc and Ephemeral. Episodes that are just there to prove that the reveal is a bad thing you shouldn't want!

There actually is solid logic as to why a reveal might not be the best move, but we don't even get to see that discussed. Chat Noir just pushes for a reveal because love while Ladybug stays focused on risk mitigation and it's so boring because a good show would let them have an honest discussion of the risks verses the rewards to help drive the conflict leading towards a reveal as a lot of the rewards are only realized if these two already know each other, which is a great tension build! But we can't build tension like that because then you'd be letting them have actual team dynamics where they talk about things and talking about things means bonding which means a build up to reveal and I think you know the drill by now...

This was a bit of a ramble, but hopefully it addressed your question! This is a broad topic that has a lot of ground to cover, so feel free to clarify if you wanted my thoughts on something else. I love identity reveals, so I am happy to babble about them. There's nothing more satisfying then setting up a good one, even if it takes tens of thousands of words to make it hit just right!

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt

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rebornologist · 4 months

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Hi, Jyunie! I hope you're feeling well!

First of all, I really wanted to thank you for sharing your writings, they always make my day better. 💜

For my request, I'd like to see your take on this scenario: reader being Dino's S/o and Squalo's best friend.

Do you think they would get along fine, or bicker a lot? I kinda think Squalo is super protective, even though he pretends to not care a lot, so I can picture him threatening Dino right when the relationship started. On the other side, I think Dino would definitely try his best to become friends (in his head, they are since school years, but Squ denies it) with Squalo to make his S/o happy.

Anyways, thanks so much for keeping your requests open!

Also, you don't have to reply if it makes you uncomfortable in any way. Your health is the most important.

Hello Emyyy my lovee! Thank you for sliding this into my inbox, I love them both so much and this is such a fun dynamic. I penned this a bit late into the night, and honestly need to finish my reread of the series as a refresher of all the characters traits and interpersonal interactions in canon.. but I hope you enjoy :) All my love xox

♡ Dino as your S/O & Squalo as your best friend ✧

༚✧⁺˳₊˚‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿˚₊˳⁺✧༚

Dino and Squalo are fascinating to me because they differ greatly in what they pride themselves in and where their loyalties lie, not to mention their contrasting temperaments. They’re a tortoiseshell cat and labrador retriever duo if I’ve ever seen one.

I see them as people that just keep finding each other in life, despite not intending to become close to one another, it kind of just happens. There’s a bond there, even if it’s just mutual respect and knowing that they can rely on the other (even if they would never want to do that).

I’d like to imagine that Reader would have known Squalo prior to the ring conflict, being a close friend of his, and not knowing Dino well/at all until Squalo got his ass handed to him and he reconnected with Dino in the hospital. They may not understand the Cavallone head’s intentions with saving Squalo, but it meant the world to them that they got to see their best friend in one piece. They could have gotten to know Dino better by running into him during their hospital visits. The relationship that ensued definitely developed outside of any interactions with Squalo involved, because they would have gotten their asses handed to them if either of them went to him for tips on how to woo the other.

Squalo’s invested in his friend’s wellness and success but is not the type to pry or think too much about their personal life—he has a lot going on with his work already, and if there was anything pressing, they would share without him asking. And that they do, earning them the most memorable shocked and wide-eyed look from the swordsman.

✧ ୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧ ✧

“WITH WHO?! That Cavallone loser? You’re fucking with me.” He gives you an incredulous side eye when you finally mention that the date you’re leaving for is with Dino. You stand your ground, giving him a flat smile and a quick shake of the head.

“Nope, not joking.”

He holds his temples with his gloved hand for a moment, and you see his head dip as he sighs quietly in resignation.

“For fuck’s sake,” he turns to raise an eyebrow at you, his face twisted as if he just smelled something bad. “...why?”

✧ ୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧ ✧

He asks out of curiosity, and would tell you “that’s enough” the second you start actually gushing about Dino. He’s smart enough to understand what your intentions may be with the Cavallone boss, but.. he still.. needs a moment to process the idea of anyone actually being worth your time and affections. He has a lot of pride in himself and by extension, the people he associates with. He respects Dino enough and can come to terms with the fact that in any case of you not being able to handle yourself, you’ll at least be in good hands. He realizes that now he’s doomed to meet Dino again for lunch or something, now that he’s your s/o. He pretends to mind it more than he actually does, he’s just not good at expressing himself.

While Squalo is processing this, Dino is, in fact, right outside ready to pick you up with his luxury car and a giant bouquet of flowers waiting for you.

Dino doesn’t see any issue with you being Squalo’s bestie and is actually... so happy that Squalo is the reason that he got to meet you again! He’s definitely the warmer one in any of their exchanges, but any tension between them is more about their differing loyalties than anything else, so they can at least both agree that you are an excellent individual.

Their bickering is minor, especially as time goes on and they grow used to the dynamic. In Squalo’s eyes, he doesn’t have to become Dino’s bestie just because he’s dating his best friend, and Dino is as amicable as ever. He cares just enough about not stepping on toes in the sense that he minds the PDA (he does this in general, but especially if he feels like it might be bothering someone in their presence).

Through you, Dino begins to learn more about Squalo. He’s the shit brickhouse and Reader is the one that gushes to their s/o about how much they love their best friend. Personally, I think that best friends are soulmates, so I can only imagine how much Reader has to share with Dino, and of course, he eats it all up. He loves learning more about Squalo on a level that only a personal friend would know, and not just what he knows about him as a swordsman and professional assassin. He also shares as much as you'd want to hear about his time in school and what "memories" he has from the alternate future. It's really amusing to see the differences in how the two describe the same events.

At some point Dino becomes involved in little things like your close friends' birthdays, Christmas cards, etc. Squalo thinks it’s totally extra and uncalled for, but Dino insists that it’s because they’re basically pals?!? Friends by proxy?! Nothing wrong with Squ being on the DinoY/N holiday postcard mailing list <3

Sometimes Squalo makes comments about how the two of y’all should “take it somewhere else”. Dino laughs it off and teases that Squ will most definitely be Reader's man of honour at the wedding, and Reader can decide to either shut down Dino in embarrassment or agree enthusiastically to torture their bestie further. All in good fun :’)

this was so cute to think about I love grumpy sunshine sm help

#khr #hitman reborn #katekyo hitman reborn #khr headcanons #khr imagines #khr x reader #superbi squalo #dino cavallone #dino cavallone x reader #dino x reader

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bratshaws · 9 months

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through the hourglass 220. brb x oc

a/n: next chapter is s m ut so be prepared. (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/180/181/182/183/184/185/186/187/188/189/190/191/192/193/194/195/196/197/198/199/200/201/202/203/204/205/206/207/208/209

/210/211/212/213/214/215/216/217/218/219

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca

Bradley looked down at that piece of paper for a few minutes now, sitting in his office while sipping some coffee. It started raining early today, and the base was very…quiet. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it was still unusual.

He took another sip of his coffee, its warmth providing a stark contrast to the chill that seemed to permeate the base. The rain drummed softly against the windows, creating a soothing backdrop to his thoughts. He was rereading the notes from the last class, swinging the pencil between his index and middle finger repeatedly as he held his head up with a hand.

The new recruits were good, but he had to have a keen eye on them now considering how bad last time was.

He glanced at the clock on his desk. It was getting close to lunch break, but he knew he needed to be thorough in his assessment of the recruits. He made a few more notations, circling areas where improvement was needed and underlining the strengths of each individual.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. The stress of command, the constant need to make critical decisions, and the ever-present danger of their work weighed on him. He had to ensure that every member of his team was as prepared as possible.

Just as he was about to close the folder, there was a soft knock on his office door. Bradley looked up to see Phoenix peeking inside his office, “Um…what are you still doing there?”

“You don’t knock anymore? What’s this.”

“Oh,pfft,” she sarcastically does so, before leaning her weight on the door handle as she looked at Bradley, “You aren’t going to eat? Everyone is waiting.” she jabs her thumb over her shoulder to where he could see that, indeed,the other pilots were there, standing not too far from Nat, waiting for him, “Come on.”

“Wait,” he narrowed his eyes at the clock, “Is it time? I thought I still had five minutes left.”

Phoenix shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Time flies when you're buried in paperwork, LC."

Bradley couldn't help but chuckle at her response. "You've got a point there. Let's not keep everyone waiting, then."

He closed the folder and stood up, taking one last sip of his coffee before setting the cup aside. The rain continued to drum against the windows, but inside the base, it was safe and unbelievably warm, which he was thankful.

“How are the twins?” she asks as the two walk to the Squad’s table, “And Nikki? Are they okay?’

“Yes, they are fine, the twins are still in the NICU but,” hse shrugs, “They are okay, it’s a waiting game now.”

“Hmhm…anyway,something planned for your birthday?”

Bradley's eyes widened as he realized that his birthday was indeed just around the corner. He had been so preoccupied with Bea and the twins, work and the recent influx of new recruits that he had completely forgotten about it.

"Oh, my birthday," he said, his voice tinged with surprise and a touch of embarrassment,scratching the back of his head. "I, uh, I haven't really thought about it, to be honest. With everything going on..."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow . "Come on, LC, you can't let your birthday go by without celebrating. We'll have to plan something, even if it's just a small get-together."

“You don’t have to call me LC,Nat.” he mutters, “It’s weird.” and now she was going to keep calling him that, why did he even open his mouth. “Besides,we don’t know if we’ll be deployed, with how things are going.”

“The new recruits taking a lot from you?”

He makes a face, “Cyclone wants them to ‘not hold any surprises’ like the last two.” which, from last he knew about, weren’t kicked out but were deeply reprimanded, “So it’s a long research and trial and error process…also,I’m not an LC yet, I still have to be officially promoted.”

The two were by the table when he said that, and Coyote heard his voice when those words came out, “We’ll still call you that, come on Rooster.” the mustached pilot makes a face, “You are the first of us to get there.”

Coyote's comment drew a few chuckles from the others at the table, but Bradley couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable with the attention. "Well, it's not official yet," he replied, trying to downplay it. "And I've still got a lot to learn."

Phoenix, sitting across from him, leaned forward with a grin. “Javy is right.You're the first among us to reach this point. We should celebrate."

Bradley rubbed the back of his neck, "I appreciate that, really. But let's not jinx it. And besides, there's still a lot of work to be done with the new recruits."

“Jinx it?” Payback asks, “Cyclone isn’t going to take it back from you, he’s not that kind.”

There was a collective nod of agreement from the table, and Bradley couldn't help but laugh almost in embarrassment over his friend’s words. He just decided to focus on having lunch and maybe mentioning something about his birthday while he was there.

Something that was odd,however, was Beatrice’s unusual silence early that morning. The last message she sent was that she got to the Hard Deck safely and was going to talk to Penny. He didn’t want to worry…

Well,he tried not to.

As Bradley settled into lunch with his squad, he joined in the conversation every now and again and it was fine… However, there was a nagging concern in the back of Bradley's mind, a worry that had crept in earlier that morning when Beatrice's messages had suddenly stopped. He knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but the silence from his wife, especially after such a harrowing experience as the birth of their premature twins, was cause for concern.

"Hey, Bradley," Phoenix said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You seem a bit distracted. Everything alright?"

Bradley blinked, realizing he had been staring off into the distance. He forced a smile, though he knew it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, just thinking about some things."

Payback, who was seated next to him, leaned in. "What's on your mind, Rooster?"

Bradley hesitated for a moment, torn between his concern for Beatrice and not wanting to burden his squad with his personal worries. "It's Bea," he admitted, his voice tinged with unease. "She messaged me earlier, saying she got to the Hard Deck safely, but then her messages stopped. It's not like her to go radio silent."

Coyote, who had been quietly eating his lunch, looked up with concern. "You think something's wrong?"

Bradley shook his head. "I don't know. It's probably nothing, but...I can't help but worry, especially after what happened with the twins."

Phoenix placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure she's just caught up with something. Don't jump to conclusions, Rooster. Give her some time and try to contact her later."

He knew they were right; he shouldn't let his imagination run wild. Still, the unease gnawed at him, making it difficult to fully enjoy his lunch, because Beatrice’s well being was…of his highest interest. He worried about her, he wanted to know if she was okay and while he knew she could handle herself, this was very out of the ordinary.

As the meal continued, the conversation shifted to other topics, such as his birthday or how Hangman’s kid was going to be born soon. But even as he joined in the banter and shared stories of his own, his thoughts kept drifting back to Beatrice and the silence of her messages. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

So he sent her a quick message when everyone was distracted.

Roos (12:12)

Hey gorgeous :) everything okay? How was your talk with Penny?

And to his relief, she replied within seconds.

Bea (12:12)

Hey

Bea (12:13)

It was…something, haha…well, you have time for a call?

Bradley felt a wave of relief wash over him as he read Beatrice's response. Her messages may have been brief, but the fact that she was reaching out to him now eased some of the anxiety that had been building throughout the day. He quickly typed his response.

Roos (12:13)

Of course, Bea. Give me a sec.

Bradley excused himself from the table and made his way to a quieter area where he could have a more private conversation with Beatrice. He couldn't help but feel a sense of worry as he dialed her number. What could have happened that made her messages go silent earlier?

The call connected, and Bradley heard Beatrice's voice on the other end, warm and reassuring. "Hey, you," she said, and he could hear the exhaustion laced in her words.

"Hey, Bea," he replied, his concern evident. "You okay? I was worried when your messages suddenly stopped."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line, and Beatrice's voice carried a mix of frustration and weariness. "I'm sorry about that, Bradley. Things got a bit… chaotic here. Penny,Shells and I started working on some repairs, and then one thing led to another, and well…Penny wanted to talk."

“About what?”

There was a brief pause, “Those..suits tried to buy the bar off of her.” she whispers “And Penny wanted to talk to us, to both of us since Jessie is back in college right now and she can’t be in the bar.” she sighs quietly “I don’t know, it’s weird? Why this…weird obsession with the bar? They have their own, why would they need the Hard Deck?”

"That is weird," Bradley agreed, his voice thoughtful. "I mean, it's not just any bar. It's got a lot of history for us. And they have their own establishments. Why would they want this one?"

Beatrice let out a tired sigh on the other end of the line. "That's what I'm trying to figure out, Bradley. It just doesn't make sense. But Penny wanted us to be on the same page about it."

“Wait…you figure it out? Gorgeous.”

There was a brief pause before Beatrice spoke again, her voice softer this time. “You know what I mean I— I just love this place.”

He frowns, looking back at the squad still seated, “I know,gorgeous.” he says, “I do too…but there’s only so much we can do..okay? Also,random but,how are you holding up? You sound tired."

Beatrice let out a tired chuckle. "I'm exhausted, I guess. Just…a lot to think about. But…Penny said she didn’t want to make me anxious, just wanted me to know and she’d prefer to say it face to face."

Bradley's heart warmed at her words. " Just remember to take care of yourself too, okay? And the kids?"

Her voice softened as she spoke about their children. "The twins are okay,I just called the hospital before going there and Nikki is with Michael…he's been a real lifesaver. And as for me, I promise I'll rest when I can. Okay?"

"Okay," he replied, his voice filled with longing. "I wish I could be there with you. But I'll be home soon, and we'll talk about it over dinner, how’s that?"

"That sounds wonderful," Beatrice said, and Bradley could hear the smile in her voice. "I love you, Bradley."

"I love you too, Bea," he replied, his heart swelling with affection as he leans closer to the wall, keeping his voice low. "Stay safe, and we'll talk soon."

After ending the call with Beatrice, Bradley felt a renewed sense of reassurance. It was clear that Beatrice was dealing with a stressful situation, but he was glad it wasn’t that bad. When Penny talked to him it was like she was going to lead Bea into a spy mission or something with how intense she sounded.

As he returned to the squad's table, his friends looked at him with curiosity. Phoenix, in particular, seemed eager for an update. "Everything okay, Rooster?"

Bradley nodded, a small smile on his face. "Yeah, just a little hiccup at the Hard Deck. Nothing too worrisome."

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, sitting back down, “What did I miss?”

“I’m home.” he calls,tossing his keys to the side and leaning down to pet the dogs who hurriedly came over to greet him, “Hey guys,where’s Beatrice at?” Eleanor turned her head towards Beatrice’s little studio,where he could see a light was on and there was the soft murmuring from his wife in there.

"Thanks, girl," Bradley said to Eleanor, giving her a final pat on her butt before standing up. He made his way down the hallway, the wooden floor creaking under his footsteps as he approached the studio door. He paused for a moment, listening to Beatrice's voice, the soothing cadence of her words making him smile.

He pushed the door open slowly and was greeted by the sight of Beatrice hunched over her desk, her long, brown hair cascading down as she focused intently on her work. She was surrounded by a sea of sketchbooks, pencils, and art supplies, her hands moving with practiced grace as she brought her latest creation to life.

Beatrice looked up as the door creaked open, her eyes, those green irises that are the death of him, lighting up with a mixture of surprise and delight when she saw Bradley standing there. She quickly set her sketchpad aside and got up from her chair, crossing the room in a few graceful strides.

"Hey, you," she greeted him with a loving smile, her arms wrapping around him in a tight hug. "Welcome home."

Bradley returned the hug, his arms enveloping her in a warm embrace. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. "Missed you," he murmured into her hair.

"I missed you too," Beatrice replied, her voice filled with genuine affection. "How was your day?"

Bradley released her from the hug but kept his arms around her waist, reveling in the closeness. "Busy," he admitted with a small sigh. "But I can't complain too much."

Beatrice's hand reached up to gently stroke his cheek, her touch as tender as her words. "You're doing an amazing job, Bradley. I'm so proud of you."

He couldn't help but smile at her words. Beatrice had always been his biggest supporter, his anchor in the storm of their demanding professions. "Thanks, Bea. How about you? Did you rest when you came home?”

Beatrice sighed while leading him further into the studio, letting him sit down on the small couch there, “A little, after I went to the hospital for the twins and brought Nikki home, she’s asleep by the way…but I couldn’t stay in bed for too long. I was,” she flexed her finger, “Itching.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I wanted to ease some anxieties,’ she picks up a piece of paper, it’s harsh oil pastel lines forming the outside of the Hard Deck at night time, “And I was just…thinking about stuff,I guess.”

He hummed, plucking the paper from her hand to look down at it, following the lines that were a bit too deep in the paper - some parts even had bits of wax clinging to the surface - before saying, “It looks great.” she gives him a small smile as she crosses her arms and leans against her desk, “You alright?”

She shrugs, “...I think I’m wondering about things.”

“The bar?”

“Mhm.” she bites her lower lip,sucking on the plush flesh with her teeth gently nibbling it,”It’ll be alright but…Penny wouldn’t tell us anything unless she was worried.” she sighs and he leans back on his seat, patting his thighs. She wastes no time in plopping on his lap, hugging his middle while burying her face on his shoulder.

“I know.” he coos, kissing her jaw, “She can count on us for anything,gorgeous. But…we also have to worry about the kids and you have to worry about yourself.” he gently boops her nose with his finger when she gives him the puppy dog look, “...you have a huge heart. And you worry about those you care about a lot.” she pouts more, “And that’s a quality I love about you.”

“Thanks,Roos.” she sighs, pressing her cheek to his chest, ‘...seems like a lot at once,too soon,you know?”

He arches his brows, hugging her waist, “Boy do I ever.” he chuckles tiredly, “...it’ll be fine.”

“...I know.”

“I mean that,” he kisses her forehead, “...it’ll all be fine.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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