#but that one is way easier to take care of ive had that one since my 18th | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sansaorgana · 28 days

Text

— LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Gwayne and his wife visit King's Landing with their children, who are very jealous of the fact that their cousins own their dragons and they do not. In the meantime, Otto Hightower wonders if his daughter-in-law is truly loyal to his house.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one and it's the last one of this story. 😊💚 In the show Gwayne mentions that it took him three months to get to King's Landing but I was using some website while writing previous parts where it says that it takes a week from Oldtown to Highgarden and, according to the same logic, it takes less than a month from Highgarden to King's Landing – that's why I decided to make the whole trip only a month long here. 🤔

WARNINGS — Alicent slapping Aegon's face, Reader's child getting hurt (nothing major)

WORD COUNT — 6,870

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

Past few weeks had been busy and spent on making all the necessary preparations before the long trip. Oldtown would be left without the Lord or Lady to look after it for around three months and it required lots of training and instructing all the servants and knights around the city what to do in your absence.

You had been summoned by your father-in-law and his daughter, The Queen Consort. They had invited your Lord Husband and you to King’s Landing to spend time together – even though you had a very weird feeling the sudden need to create a stronger bond within the family was dictated by some hidden agenda. Either way, you were rather excited for the trip even though it would take about a month on the road to even get to the capital city of Westeros.

What stressed you the most was travelling for so long with four children you had given Gwayne for the past few years. Your eldest son Edmund was twelve now and his brother William was ten. Your daughter Rosalynd was eight and her sister Florys was six. You were glad that the time when you had been pregnant nearly constantly was over now and you could enjoy the ups and downs of motherhood without many worries because your husband was a man devoted to his family. Gwayne had not only been raising his sons and teaching them all they needed to know about the sword but he also made sure to spend quality time with his daughters. And above that all, he was simply a caring and sweet husband. No matter how many years had passed.

Your trip started in the very early morning and you all were half asleep while getting inside the carriage. Rosalynd was sleeping with her head on your lap and little Florys was asleep in her father’s arms. Edmund and William were looking out of the window, excited and interested in everything that they were seeing although the road to The Highgarden was very well known to them. Because you lived so close to your parents, your children were often visiting their castle.

What started peacefully, soon turned out to be a little nightmare. The children were very whiny and easily getting bored. When you reached The Highgarden a week after leaving Oldtown, you were seriously considering coming back home instead of going further down the Rose Road.

“It is only the beginning of the trip and it is already exhausting,” you complained to your parents during supper when you were staying overnight at their place.

“You might not get a second chance to go to King’s Landing, my darling,” your father reminded you. “Endure it.”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” Gwayne chuckled and shook his head.

“I do not understand,” your mother spoke up. “Look at them, my grandchildren,” she smiled at the four of your children eating their meals quietly. “They’re so well-behaved. Little angels, really,” she sighed lovingly.

“Perhaps we might leave them here for three moons, how about that?” Your eyes sparkled at the idea. “We shall leave for King's Landing on the morrow while you watch over them.”

“I would love to,” your mother grinned.

“I would not,” your father’s eyes widened at the idea.

“I do not think that is a good idea, my Lady,” Gwayne put his hand on top of yours gently and you looked at him, confused. “To spend three moons without my little ones would be a nightmare,” he explained and your smile dropped.

Gwayne was right. You would miss your children dearly, too. You were sending them sometimes to spend two weeks at The Highgarden with their grandparents and given the fact the trip lasted a week, it would be a month away from you. It was barely bearable already whenever it happened. Three months sounded like torture.

“My Gwayne is right,” you sighed and laid your tired eyes on your mother. “They must go with us. Also, just like Lord Father said, such a chance might not happen again. They should see King’s Landing, too,” you nodded.

In the early morning of the next day, you were already back on the Rose Road, which took you through the town of Bitterbridge to The Kingswood where you entered The Kingsroad and The Crownlands. You had never been there and only two times before you had been on the road for such a long time. Both times it had been to attend your sister’s weddings. One had taken place in Dorne and the second had been in The Vale.

Once you entered The Kingsroad, it would only take you a few days to reach King’s Landing and you were more than grateful for that. Both you and Gwayne were exhausted after trying to entertain your children on the road and attempting to tame their tantrums caused by boredom and frustration.

The night before reaching King’s Landing you were sleeping at the castle of some lesser Lord who lived nearby the road. You had been given the guest rooms but you couldn’t fall asleep, both excited and anxious about the next day.

“What are you possibly scared of, my love?” Gwayne soothed you by caressing your face with his fingertips when you were laying in his arms and staring at the ceiling instead of drifting off to the land of dreams. “You had met my father already and he seems to be quite indifferent towards you,” he pointed out.

Otto Hightower had visited Oldtown a few times after your wedding to his son and what Gwayne had said was painfully true – he seemed to be indifferent towards you. Just like he was indifferent towards his own son. The only signs of affection you had seen in him were for your daughters. He hadn’t even thanked you for giving him two healthy grandsons and heirs – his attention had been fully focused on the girls. It was quite adorable, you had to admit. But it was also saddening for your husband and sons.

“What about your sister? The King? Will our children get along with their cousins?” You voiced out all your insecurities in a low whisper. “And The Targaryens… I do fear them, Gwayne. People say they are more gods than men.”

“I am sure they are men just like you and I,” Gwayne smiled and kissed your forehead while caressing your arm.

“They have dragons…” You sighed.

“We probably will not even encounter one,” he assured you. “And do not be afraid of my sister or her husband. Are you not always reminding everyone that you are a sister-in-law of The Queen? Now it is time to meet her personally,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

You somehow managed to get some sleep on that night. In the morning you had your dress prepared already because you had been planning to wear it for quite a long time. Your maids helped you to put on the elegant green gown that was pretty low-cut. You were a daughter of The Highgarden and you had never stopped wearing such necklines. Your own Lord Husband had given up already on trying to change that – in fact, he enjoyed it. You decorated your exposed neck with a golden pendant of The Seven-Pointed Star to make Queen Alicent happy.

Gwayne found it quite funny but you gave him a scolding look.

Your children had green outfits, too. Pretty little green dresses on your girls and dark green tunics with The Hightower beacon embroidered on them on your boys. The Hightowers were coming to King’s Landing.

When you reached the city you were staring out of the window with as much curiosity as your children. Gwayne had been in the capital once before for the tournament when he had been very young so his excitement was not as big.

Lots of people were staring at your carriage with a hint of curiosity. They knew that The Hightowers were The Queen’s family and for that reason some of them waved shyly at you. You were trying to wave back but Rosalynd and Florys were the ones who actually enjoyed it the most – feeling like little Princesses greeting the crowd. So, you allowed them to have fun as you leaned back on your seat. Your hand found Gwayne’s immediately and you squeezed it.

“You better be on your best behaviour once we reach The Red Keep,” you told your sons. “All of you,” you laid your eyes on your giggling daughters.

“You do not need to worry, mother,” Edmund nodded at you and straightened his back, trying to present himself more mature.

“I cannot wait to train with my cousins,” William added. “Father, will we be able to?”

“I do think so,” Gwayne nodded with a smile at him and leaned in to fix William’s ruffled hair.

“I cannot wait to spend time with Princess Helaena,” Rosalynd sighed dreamily. “She must be so ethereal… A Targaryen Princess…”

“I want to see grampa,” Florys’ eyes sparkled and you chuckled at your sweet little girl.

You smiled nervously at your husband when you realised you were already entering The Red Keep’s courtyard and a few people were waiting for you. You spotted your tall father-in-law and that beautiful woman standing next to him had to be Queen Alicent herself. She had soft, curly hair in the auburn colour and her dress was of the same shade of green as yours. You sincerely hoped it would not be considered rude of you but you had no idea. There were three silver-haired children with them – two boys and a girl. They had to be Prince Aegon, Princess Helaena and Prince Aemond.

“Grampa!” Florys clapped her hands excitedly and already moved to the carriage’s door.

“Florys, mummy and daddy are leaving the carriage first,” you reminded her softly.

“Do try to behave like a big girl!” Her older sister scolded her. “We are in King’s Landing!”

“Rosalynd, you are not her Lady Mother,” Gwayne reminded his daughter.

In the meantime, the servant announced your family and opened the door of the carriage. You took a deep breath in and watched your husband get out before offering you his hand to help you. You took it softly and wore a nervous smile before facing your in-laws.

The moment your feet touched the ground, you felt something moving behind your skirts. It was little Florys jumping out of the carriage already and running as fast as possible towards her grandfather. Everyone froze for a moment and widened their eyes at the scene.

“Grampa!” Florys reached her hands out and Otto Hightower let out a nervous chuckle before crouching down to give her a tight squeeze.

“You are being impatient, Lady Florys,” he greeted her and she clapped her hands.

Rosalynd stood by your side with a sigh and an eye-roll. Meanwhile, your sons chose to stand by their father. Since Florys had broken all the protocols already anyway, you decided to simply walk up to The Queen without caring about the right order as you nodded at your husband. He nodded back and only then Rosalynd ran up to her grandfather as well to give him a hug, too.

You sighed and shook your head before walking up to Queen Alicent herself. Your sons followed you and Gwayne while Otto whispered something to the girls, which made their faces go serious as they joined your side, too. You all bowed down respectfully.

“My Queen,” you greeted her.

“Sister,” Gwayne kissed the palm of her hand.

From the corner of your eye you spotted the older Prince yawning. Queen Alicent blushed and pushed him slightly with her elbow.

“I see we both struggle when it comes to disciplining our offspring,” she smiled at you but you noticed how she looked down at your low-cut dress and the religious pendant on your exposed chest. She chewed on the inside of her cheek at the sight but she decided not to comment.

“Lady Hightower,” your father-in-law kissed the palm of your hand.

“Lord Father,” you greeted him and he gave you a shadow of a smile.

At his son, he only nodded. Gwayne nodded back and clenched his jaw.

“My grandsons,” Otto approached your boys and shook their hands. “Let me introduce the young Princes to you,” he pointed at the silver-haired boys standing by Queen Alicent’s side. “Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond.”

“Lord Edmund,” Edmund introduced himself and extended his hand towards Aegon. Prince Aegon looked him up and down and after a while of hesitation, he shook your son’s hand.

“Lord William,” your younger boy introduced himself and reached out for Aemond’s hand. Prince Aemond shook it shyly.

“Are you Princess Helaena?” Rosalynd stood in front of the Princess with Florys hiding behind her.

The silver-haired girl widened her eyes and looked pretty startled. She took a step back and Rosalynd furrowed her brow.

“Princess Helaena is of a… rather timid nature,” Queen Alicent explained.

“Let us come inside, you must be exhausted after the journey,” Otto pointed at the doors leading to the castle.

“Do not even get me started, Lord Father,” Gwayne chuckled. “And certainly do not get my Lady Wife started,” he added teasingly and you shot him a scolding glance.

The first day was pretty chaotic because everyone was exhausted but also excited to see as much as possible of The Red Keep. Otto Hightower gave you and your children a tour himself. The only place he avoided were the chambers of The King who was ill and you had already been told you would not see him most likely.

Gwayne had already seen The Red Keep before but it had been before his sister was The Queen so now he was allowed in more places. He joined your little tour and kept his hands on your sons’ shoulders, while your daughters were holding Otto’s hands.

To your surprise, during the supper, you quite befriended Queen Alicent. Of course she was still frowning upon your dress but you bonded over the experience of motherhood.

“The Red Keep is so green now,” your father-in-law pointed out happily at the sight of you, his children and grandchildren by the long table. All dressed in green clothes to show off their Hightower surname. “It makes me glad. Gwayne, I would like to have a word with you after supper.”

“Tomorrow, father,” Gwayne shook his head. “We are tired after the journey.”

Otto didn’t say anything to that but he gave his son quite an unpleasant look. You squeezed your husband’s hand underneath the table and caressed the palm of his hand lovingly to soothe him.

You retired to your chambers pretty early because you were longing for the comforts of a bed. Your husband and children followed and you made sure they all found their rooms and beds before you went to your own chambers.

“What do you think is the matter he wishes to discuss with you?” You asked Gwayne while brushing your hair in front of the mirror by the vanity table. He was sitting up on the bed and watching you with admiration in his eyes as every evening. “Do you think it is something about Oldtown?”

“No,” Gwayne shakes his head. “Those instructions have always been sent to us by ravens. It must be something about… the future and its possibilities.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You furrowed your brow and turned around to see his face better.

“You know that my father wants Prince Aegon on The Iron Throne, not Princess Rhaenyra,” your husband reminded you. “And The King might die soon. We are not even allowed to see him.”

“They say he is slowly decaying with each passing day,” you winced when you imagined such a thing happening to a person.

“That must be a terrible fate,” Gwayne sighed. “However, his death will bring the conflict of succession.”

“What conflict?” You asked. “Aegon is his eldest son.”

Gwayne squinted his eyes and then shook his head with a chuckle.

“My father is underestimating you, my sweetling,” he hummed to himself. “Now, come here, since we are sleeping in The Red Keep, I want to make you feel like a Princess,” he opened his arms for you to join him but you only scoffed and put the hairbrush down before fixing your hair with your hands.

“I am not a child anymore, Lord Husband,” you teased. “You shall make me feel like a Queen.”

You and Queen Alicent were sitting in the garden together and watching your daughters trying to befriend each other. Rosalynd and Florys were pretty grossed out and shocked to see Princess Helaena sitting on the grass and picking up all sorts of bugs and insects to examine with her curious eyes. She handed Rosalynd a spider once and your daughter nearly fainted at the sight.

Princess Helaena was of a gentle nature, though. She seemed to like her younger cousins and she was whispering to them all the details about every bug she was picking up. Florys was more interested in them than Rosalynd. Your eight years old daughter was often shooting you meaningful glances but you were only smiling at her in return.

The young princes and your sons were training together in the courtyard with Gwayne and Ser Criston Cole, whom you had recently met. You wondered how it was going, so you decided to finally put Rosalynd out of her misery.

“Shall we check on our sons, Your Grace?” You asked Queen Alicent but she seemed to be surprised.

“What for?” She inquired. “Are they not with the men who teach them?”

“I like to watch my sons while they train and cheer for them,” you told her and smiled softly. She visibly did not understand the appeal of it but she stood up from the bench and you followed. “Girls,” you looked behind your shoulder and extended your hand. “Come.”

Florys ran up to you to take your hand while Rosalynd and Helaena followed quietly behind you. You could hear your daughter desperately trying to start a conversation she was dying to have with a real Princess.

“You must own so many beautiful dresses, Helaena! What is your favourite colour?”

“Beige,” Helaena answered, clearly uninterested but also not wanting to make her cousin sad.

“Nice…” Rosalynd sighed and you could hear that she was disappointed in that answer. “Do you think you could give me some of your old dresses that do not fit you anymore?”

“Rosalynd!” You gasped as you scolded her.

“That is quite alright, Lady Hightower. We shall gift Rosalynd some of Helaena’s old dresses,” Queen Alicent nodded at you and caressed her daughter’s head lovingly.

“Thank you, my Queen,” you smiled at her and then you gave Rosalynd a meaningful look.

“Thank you, aunt,” the girl bowed down happily.

You reached the courtyard but to your surprise, your sons and the young princes were spending time together on their own, whispering and laughing about something, while your husband seemed to be in the middle of an argument with the other knight.

“Is that what you teach them, Ser Criston?” Gwayne was irritated. “Knights shall be chivalrous and rightful.”

“They are no knights, Ser Gwayne, for they are young princes,” Ser Criston answered.

“Gwayne,” you approached them quickly to stand beside your husband and rub his arm before intertwining yours with his. “How is the training going?”

“Oh, rather marvellous, Lady Wife,” he answered, his voice filled with irony and mockery as he looked Ser Criston up and down. “I have a fascinating conversation with Ser Criston here about the manners of a knight. Perhaps they do not teach them in Dorne.”

“You are from Dorne, Ser?” You tried to change the subject as you looked at the man standing in front of you.

“Yes, my Lady,” Ser Criston nodded at you.

“My sister Olenna married a lesser Lord from Dorne,” you told him. “A Toland,” you explained.

“I hope she has found her happiness with him, my Lady,” Ser Criston cracked a smile at you, which made Gwayne move uncomfortably.

“Barely,” you had to admit with a sigh and Ser Criston’s smile turned into a frown.

Before the conversation would become even more awkward, you were interrupted by Edmund and William running up to you and tugging onto your skirts, making both you and your husband turn around.

“What is it?” You asked them.

“Can we go to the dragon pit to see the dragons?!” William’s eyes widened out of excitement.

“I do not think that is a good idea,” you shook your head as your heart skipped a beat out of fear at the thought.

“We only wish to see them,” Edmund explained. “Father…”

“Your mother is right,” Gwayne agreed with you.

“But should not a knight be brave? I want to see a dragon and so does William!” Edmund insisted and sadly, the mention of the knighthood convinced your husband – especially after an argument with Ser Criston about the very same matter.

“Alright then, but be careful you two,” Gwayne nodded and you watched with terror in your eyes as two of your sons ran away to join their cousins and a few servants on the way.

“Gwayne…!” You gasped.

“Worry not,” Queen Alicent’s voice made you turn around. “The Dragonkeepers and the guards are there.”

After hearing this, your daughters seemed to be interested as well. Rosalynd gave you puppy eyes.

“Can we go, too, mother?” She asked.

“Are you a squire, Rosalynd? Or Florys – is she?” You shook your head.

“Let them go, my Lady. It is better to feed the curiosity instead of letting it grow,” Ser Criston spoke and you shot him a deadly glance but you were sort of forced to agree to your daughter’s request now.

You nodded, reluctantly and watched the girls run away to join their brothers and cousins. Princess Helaena remained by her mother’s side, though.

“What about the young Princess?” Gwayne asked her with a smile and lifted her chin up gently with his finger.

“I do not find pleasure in flying, uncle,” she admitted.

You quickly regretted your decision to allow your children to see the dragons. They seemed to be mesmerised by the creatures and they could not stop whining about the fact they did not have their own beasts to ride.

“They are our cousins, mother,” Edmund kept whining to you on your way back from the supper. “Vhagar is so huge… It is so unfair we do not have any dragons and they do have so many!”

“They are princes and you are lords,” you reminded him. “They are Targaryens and you are Hightowers,” you added. “There is no shame in being different.”

“We are not different, Lady Mother,” Rosalynd rolled her eyes. “We are simply worse.”

“I am not jealous,” Florys saved the day with her sweet confession although her siblings shot her a deadly glance. She clinged to her father’s hand and sighed. “Dragons are big and I am small,” she explained and you chuckled because you found her reasoning adorable.

“You are just a coward because you are a girl!” William pointed out.

“I am a girl, too!” Rosalynd protested. “And I am not afraid. In fact, I would surely have a bigger dragon than you!”

“That is enough,” Gwayne shushed them. “Go to your beds, all of you. Sweet dreams about dragons – dreams, only,” he pointed out with a chuckle but the children did not find it funny.

“Goodnight, daddy, mummy,” Florys nodded and dragged Rosalynd with her to their shared chambers. Your older daughter only mumbled her goodnight.

“Goodnight,” Edmund and William both nodded and walked away, still frustrated and offended by the injustice of life and your light treatment of their situation.

You and Gwayne looked at each other and chuckled before going to your own bedroom.

You were asleep in your husband’s arms. The bed you shared in The Red Keep was twice as big as the one you had in Oldtown but you still were sleeping close in the middle of it. Your face was buried in the thin fabric of his shirt and Gwayne had his chin on top of your head and his arms wrapped around you just like yours were wrapped around his chest.

Sudden, loud and rapid knocking upon your doors made you both startle in your sleep and open your eyes. Gwayne sat up and rubbed his eyes and you hid your yawn with your hand.

“What is it?!” Your husband grunted and left the bed to grab a robe laying on the chair and put it on loosely. You sat up as well and watched his silhouette approaching the doors in the darkness of the room. “Someone better be dying,” Gwayne opened the doors and looked the servant up and down.

“F-forgive me for the rapid interruption, my Lord, my Lady…” The man stuttered. He was holding a candle to light up the room a little. “It is about your children…”

Your heart skipped a beat at that and you jumped out of the bed to stand behind your husband.

“What is it? What happened?!” You inquired. “Which children?”

“Lord Edmund is hurt, my Lady. Lord William and Lady Rosalynd seem to be alright but they were involved in it, too,” the servant swallowed thickly after delivering the dreadful news.

“Hurt?!” You squealed and squeezed your husband’s arm out of fear.

“Involved in what?” Gwayne furrowed his eyebrow.

“Apparently, young lords and the lady attempted to claim their own dragons with the help of Prince Aegon,” the servant explained and you nearly fainted at the news. Gwayne’s face went a shade paler in an instant.

“Where are they now?” He asked.

“Everyone is gathering, my Lord. You are expected in the dining hall,” he explained and walked away.

“Gods…” You whimpered and grabbed the very first dress to put on over your nightgown. You did not care much about your appearance at such a moment. Your hands were shaking because you were worried about your children, especially Edmund who was hurt.

Looking presentable enough, both you and Gwayne hurried downstairs and straight into the dining hall. Queen Alicent was there, too and so were Ser Cole and your father-in-law. Your eldest son was being looked after by a maester while William and Rosalynd were standing behind him with their heads kept low. Florys was scared and clinging to Otto’s hand. Prince Aegon looked pretty terrified, too, and he was not even smirking or laughing as usual.

“What happened?! Edmund!” You left Gwayne’s side to rush to your son. Your heart clenched inside your chest at the sight of his cheek burnt slightly. His lips and eyes were unharmed and for that he was lucky but there was a long burnt line on his cheek that would surely not heal completely and leave a scar. “Oh, Edmund…!” You sobbed and pressed the good side of his face to your chest.

“I am alright, mother,” he whispered.

“What were you thinking?!” Gwayne lost his temper but you knew it was dictated by worry and fear. “Grown tired of living, have you?!” He addressed William and Rosalynd now and they both looked away, ashamed.

“I did not go, daddy!” Florys exclaimed proudly. “And I was telling them it was a bad idea!”

“Shut your mouth, Florys!” Rosalynd scolded her and Florys hid herself behind her grandfather. Gwayne clenched his jaw.

“Do not speak to your sister this way, Rosalynd. Do not speak at all, I advise,” he pointed his finger at his daughter and she looked down again. “Whose idea was it?!”

Both William and Rosalynd pointed their fingers at Edmund. Even Florys stuck her little hand out from behind her grandfather to point at her eldest brother.

“Traitors!” Edmund shouted at them.

You looked down at your son’s face. He winced while the maester was putting an ointment on his injury.

“You’re scarred for life,” you sniffled your tears back. “My sweet boy…”

“I have nearly gained a dragon,” he told you proudly. “And the scar does not bother me, mother, for I have survived the attempt. I shall try again soon.”

“You could never own a dragon, son! Only Targaryens can own and ride them! It is common knowledge!” Gwayne raised his hands up as if he was giving up.

Aegon moved uncomfortably while Edmund shot him a glance full of hatred.

“What is it?” Queen Alicent asked, already sensing her own son’s involvement in this whole thing being much worse than she had expected.

“It was Aegon!” Edmund’s lower lip trembled suddenly. “He told us we could gain our own dragons, too! That we can claim the spare ones or Helaena’s since she has no interest in it!” He confessed.

Now everyone’s angry eyes were laid upon the young Prince. He huffed with an eye roll but his cheeks turned crimson red.

“I did not know,” he whispered. “I did not know that only we can ride them.”

You were filled with rage. Your eldest son liked to pretend he was more mature than the rest of his siblings but he was only twelve after all – he was still a child. Prince Aegon was the eldest out of the cousins and he should had known better.

“You have cruelly teased my children to risk their lives… To… To possibly lose them and die!” You approached him angrily and began to shake him by his arms. You couldn't care less that he was a Prince. You wanted him punished. “And now you are playing a fool by saying such a stupidity! You insolent son of a–”

“(Y/N),” Gwayne stopped you as he rushed to you and put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off.

“Edmund has a scar for life!” You sobbed again.

“Mother, I am alright!” Your son’s voice reached your ears.

“I did not know…!” Scared Aegon was trying to get out of your grip and Queen Alicent was attempting to help him by pushing your hands away.

“Lady Hightower, be reasonable!” She pleaded. “I shall punish my son accordingly but it is my punishment to give him, not yours!”

“My children could have died! All of them!” You screamed at her.

“Not me!” Florys squealed.

“Shush, my darling,” Otto scolded her gently. “All of us should calm down now. After all, everybody is alive, thank Gods,” he pointed out and you pushed Aegon away before angrily turning around.

The maester was no longer sitting by Edmund’s side and now you approached your boy to grab him by his shirt and drag him towards Otto.

“Look at him! My son nearly died!” You yelled at him. “Do not order me to calm down, Lord Father!”

“Mother, let go of me, it hurts,” Edmund whined and you stopped pulling him by his shirt but your whole body was trembling out of anger, fear and frustration. “Young Prince Aegon should learn how to treat other people, especially the weaker ones…” You patted your own chest with your fist and your son huffed at the word weaker. “...if you wish to put him on the throne!” You finished and the whole room went silent.

It was something that should not be said out loud. Thankfully, everyone inside the dining hall was on the same side when it came to the conflict of succession.

“That is enough, my Lady,” Gwayne shook his head and put his hands on your shoulders to walk you out of his surprised father’s sight. “I am sure Prince Aegon will be punished for his behaviour by his own parents.”

“I did not know, I swear!” Aegon whined. “I would not want cousin Edmund or cousin William to get hurt and especially not cousin Rosalynd!”

“Save it!” Queen Alicent scolded him angrily and slapped his face. “You have outdone yourself this time, Aegon!”

Gwayne was rubbing your arms soothingly and pressed you closer to his body by putting his hand in the back of your head. Your heartbeat was slowing down and your breath was coming back to normal.

“I think we should all agree to collectively remove Lady Hightower’s accusation from our memories,” Otto spoke calmly. “And that it is time to go back to our beds.”

All of your children approached you, clinging to your skirts, except for Edmund who felt stupid and guilty now, embarrassed. He was looking down and clasped his hands behind his back but Gwayne put his hand around his shoulders to pull him closer.

“Your grandfather is right, it is time to go back to our beds. If we manage to fall asleep after such a night,” he pointed out.

Prince Aegon did not show up for the breakfast and you were glad he did not because you would tear him apart if you saw him. Now, after taking a better look at your son’s injury in the morning light, you were heartbroken. His scar would probably look intimidating when he would become the fearsome knight he wanted to be but you were his mother and your heart ached for him.

The breakfast overall was pretty quiet and after the meal Gwayne took your sons to the courtyard to continue their training while Rosalynd and Florys followed Queen Alicent to Princess Helaena’s chambers for the girls to embroider together. Rosalynd also hoped to try on some of Princess Helaena’s dresses. You considered not allowing her to take any as a form of punishment for yesterday's stunt but you eventually decided it would be too cruel.

You were asked by your father-in-law to see him after breakfast and you kind of dreaded the conversation because you had a feeling what it would be about. Gwayne wanted to accompany you but you disagreed because it would make you look weak and scared. You had to face Otto Hightower alone. Gwayne had reluctantly agreed but he had assured you that he would remain by your side no matter what your father-in-law would say to you.

On your way to his chambers, you walked past Prince Aegon’s room. The doors were ajar and he was sitting on the edge of his bed. At first, seeing him brought back all the memories from the last night and all the anger. But after a short while of staring at him, you noticed that he was… sad.

It confused you as you kept staring and in the meantime, he spotted your presence. He got startled a little, knowing that you were alone now since his guard was nowhere to be seen and his mother was not there to push you away if you attacked him again.

He approached the doors to close them but he kept glancing at you like a beaten dog and even dared to speak.

“Is my cousin alright, aunt?” He asked quietly, his voice filled with guilt and worry. Suddenly, you started to have a feeling he had not been lying. Perhaps he truly had not known about the Targaryens being the only people who could ride dragons.

It would not surprise you because your father-in-law had been complaining about Prince Aegon not wanting to study his books and his knowledge of High Valyrian was… questionable.

“Edmund is quite alright,” you nodded at him and took a step ahead before he would close the doors. “Can we talk?”

Aegon hesitated but he looked down and nodded, letting you inside. You entered his chambers and looked around, humming at the sight of a wine goblet on his nightstand table.

“I truly did not know about the dragons, I am sorry,” Aegon confessed. “I know I am of a rather careless nature but I would not risk my cousins’ life,” he added and you sighed.

After a short while of hesitation, you approached him and caressed his hair before putting a silver strand behind his ear and lifting his chin up to make him look into your eyes.

“I am sorry for my outburst, young Prince. I do believe you now,” you assured him with a soft smile. “It still was irresponsible and foolish but I see now that your intentions were not malicious,” you nodded and his eyes sparkled at your words.

“Really? You do believe me, aunt?” He couldn’t be convinced and it made you sad to see it.

“I do,” you moved your hand away from his face. “To see a scar on my son’s face is painful for a mother but I do realise he does not mind it at all and he is proud of how he gained it. Let it be then,” you sighed. “It cannot be undone anyway.”

A short while of silence occurred between you two and you smiled at Aegon before approaching the doors again.

“You should join uncle Gwayne and my sons in the courtyard, my Prince. They are training with Ser Cole and young Prince Aemond,” you encouraged him. “And I shall leave now to speak with your grandfather.”

Aegon nodded at you and you left his chambers to hurry to Otto Hightower’s room where he was already waiting for you. He gave you a scolding look when you entered.

“What took you so long, Lady Hightower?” He asked, sitting on an armchair by the fireplace.

“I was stopped on the way, Lord Father,” you explained calmly and he pointed at the armchair next to his. You took a seat there and waited for him to start the conversation.

“We shall speak about last night,” he started.

“I do believe it was your idea to remove my accusations from the memory,” you reminded and he shot you an unpleasant glance.

“I need to know where you stand,” he looked deep into your eyes.

“Where do I stand?” You furrowed your brows. “What does it matter?”

“You have a great influence on my son. Much bigger than a wife should have on any man,” Otto pointed out. “I need to know I can trust you.”

“Speak plainly, Lord Father,” you challenged him with a head held high. “And I shall tell you.”

Otto hesitated as he looked at the dancing flames for a while. You waited patiently until he eventually laid his eyes on you again with the most serious expression.

“Do you support Prince Aegon as the future King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men?” Otto lowered his voice – his whispers were nearly audible.

“I believe you wish to know if I support your treason,” you raised an eyebrow and Otto clenched his jaw. “I do,” you nodded. “Prince Aegon is half-Hightower and I shall always support my family,” you added and stood up. “Does that answer satisfy you, my Lord? I shall join my sons and husband in the courtyard. I have promised them to watch their training,” you explained.

“You can go,” Otto dismissed you and you turned around but then you stopped.

“Lord Father?” You looked at him one more time.

“Yes?” He looked up to meet your gaze with furrowed brows.

“I shall ensure that my own Lord Father – Lord Tyrell – supports King Aegon when the time comes,” you promised.

Otto only nodded at you and you nodded back before walking out of his chambers and hurrying downstairs to the courtyard.

You smiled at the sight of your boys being instructed by their father. Prince Aegon joined them in the meantime as well and you waved at them all before taking a seat on the bench as usual – to watch and cheer.

After giving your sons their instructions, Gwayne gave them some space and joined your side as he sat next to you.

“What did my father want from you, darling?” He asked, worryingly.

“He wondered about my loyalty,” you scoffed and looked up at your husband’s face to fix a reckless auburn hair strand falling onto his face. “As if I didn’t give him four grandchildren to inherit his wealth and titles. As if I didn’t run Oldtown in his name for years. As if I didn’t love his son with every heartbeat of mine,” you finished quietly and a slight blush brightened your husband’s cheeks.

“Last night must have frightened him,” Gwayne explained. “You were rather furious with Prince Aegon.”

“Every parent would be,” you rolled your eyes. “Were you not furious, too?”

“I was but I did not show it,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Every person reacts differently,” you shrugged. “Either way, such conflicts always happen sooner or later between the family members. I shall not take them outside,” you assured Gwayne and took his hand to squeeze it. “I gave birth to four Hightowers. How could I play on any other team?” You asked, genuinely.

Gwayne squeezed your hand back and moved a little closer to you, as much as his armour allowed him. You both watched your sons train with loving smiles on your faces.

At one point, young Prince Aegon looked at you and smiled at you nervously. You smiled back and waved at him even, which caused his own smile to grow wider. Poor boy had no idea what responsibility was being plotted to be put onto his back.

MASTERLIST

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x oc #tyrell oc #lilysfiction

314 notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 4 months

Text

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.

With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself.

While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.

You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.

It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.

Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.

You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.

It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.

While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without.

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.

You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.

You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it.

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair.

“They chew up people like you.”

“I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that.

And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty.

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space.

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.

He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.

Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning.

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.

That’s it!

You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.

Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building.

You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel.

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”

He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.

Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time.

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.

You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra.

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

“What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.

Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?

“I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.

Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.

You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you.

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck. “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go.

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.

There were more important things to worry about.

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives.

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.

You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you.

And then there was Rafe.

The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully.

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you.

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?"

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh.

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you

It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.

His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you.

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it.

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.

It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears.

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.

All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…”

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating.

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.

Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.”

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security.

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making.

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.

“Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.

He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin.

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right.

An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.

Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

“Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.

You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening.

His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.

Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length.

Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.

His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.

“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him.

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.

Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.

The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.

The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.

As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth.

But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,

"Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."

The pet name did it.

With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.

The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.

And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.

He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.

After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

582 notes · View notes

erwinsvow · 5 months

Note

please do bsf rafe flirting with reader while he’s drunk and she’s trying to put him to bed but he just cuddles her and tells her how much he has feelings for her

this with kook trio readerrr omg <3 in my head, rafe's version of admitting feelings is being aggressively posessive. when they finally start dating shes like why didnt you say something sooner? and hes like wym ive been claiming you since the start

you were so used to rafe taking care of you—bringing you home to tannyhill with him, making sure you took a tylenol before you fell asleep on his bed, a clean frat shirt of his waiting for you in the bathroom.

he was such a good friend to you. when times like this came along, you tried your best to repay the favor.

you think rafe's got it easier, though. he alway manhandles you into position, can carry you up the stairs when you're stumbling and force the pill and water down your throat when you're resisting. you're usually too drunk to remember rafe's hand on your jaw, opening your mouth for you and trying to coax you into taking it, telling you repeatedly you'll be grateful he did it in the morning.

"you are such a dick," you mutter, staring at the bottle of tylenol in your hand and the empty cup of water on the nightstand. he's just spilled the water all over his floor in a drunken stupor, and you suddenly hate that he ever made you feel bad about how much he has to take care of you when you're the drunk one.

rafe is ten times worse than you could ever be.

"thinkin 'bout my dick, are'ya?" he slurs back at you, and then laughs at his own joke. he's laying flat on his bed now, still in the same clothes he wore to the party, shoes and watch still on. getting him into the house and up the stairs was hard enough, even with top and kelce's help, but they'd jumped ship the second you got rafe into bed.

"all yours now, princess," kelce said, grabbing the keys to his car.

"yeah, good luck. i've never seen him so drunk," top adds.

"you're both just leaving me with him?" you cry out, but the hallway is empty when you finally get your wrist out of rafe's grip. rafe had mumbled something from his position, but you hadn't heard it.

twenty minutes later, you still hadn't gotten rafe to drink any water or change his clothes. all his energy seemed to be focused on getting you to curl up next to him.

"c'mon! just get into bed, m'fuckin tired-" he grumbles again, latching onto your arm while you try to at least get his shoes off.

"you can't sleep with your sneakers on, rafe-"

"who cares? i like my sneakers-"

"that's great, but your sheets-"

"but not as much as i like you. hah. that's fuckin' cheesy." you turn to look at your drunken best friend, his flushed cheeks and the way his eyes are closed while talking to you. you laugh, unable to hold it back.

"thanks, rafe. i like you too. enough to get your shoes off because you will so regret this tomorrow morning."

"don't regret anything." his eyes open, staring at you while you stare at his shoes. "shit. you're pretty."

you don't even address his comment—he's drunk beyond belief and you know you're pretty. after you untie his laces for him, he kicks off his shoes. you sigh a breath of relief.

"okay, rafe, do you want to sleep in these clothes or should i find pajamas?"

"how 'bout we sleep naked? there's an idea."

"stop being a perv. otherwise i'm gonna go cuddle with kelce instead." you laugh to yourself—the whole thing is a joke. you and rafe don't cuddle, at least not on purpose. you go to bed facing him but somehow always wake up with your limbs tangled and your hair in his face.

"sure. if you want me to kill kelce."

"oh my god, dramatic much?" you turn back to rafe to see if he's laughing, but he's not, looking right at you and sitting up.

"m'not kidding. don't joke about that. you're fuckin' mine, don't forget it."

he lays back down. you pause, eyebrows knitting while you think about the sentence rafe just said. he's drunk, so he must be joking. right?

"c'mon wanna sleep. get into bed." he grumbles again, and you comply, still a little shellshocked. you turn off the lamp and get into bed, and you don't even feel surprised when rafe pulls you in. you rest your head against his chest, and you don't stop thinking about what he said until you fall asleep.

#eee <3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #kook trio reader

829 notes · View notes

chuuyasheaven · 7 months

Note

RAAAAAAAAH idk if this counts as an ask but this specific scenario has been marinating in my mind for WEEKS and i think you might enjoy it :3c

to put it shortly ive been thinking of hot-headed reader who has trouble containing their temper (im not projecting whar do you mean) x chuuya (established relationship) that goes from angst to smut…. teehee

basically chuuya and reader begin arguing bc i hc that EVEN THOUGH CHUUYA IS EXTREMELY LOYAL AND DOTING TO THE ONES HE CARES ABOUT…. his temper often gets the best of him. Recently, chuuya had been very busy, and reader knew that, and continuously made an effort to help him in whatever ways they could, be it making dinner/lunch for him, offering to help with paperwork, etc. BUT thing is.. chuuya isn't really noticing this and treats them like a nuisance. He hasn't said anything outright insulting or upsetting, but he treats reader so differently, like he's silently blaming reader for his own temper and mood. He doesn't even call them by their nickname/petname anymore, everything feels so distant now.

So in an attempt to yk, NOT give up on their relationship, reader decides to confront chuuya about this in a calm manner, but he blindly lashes out and reader is NOT having ANY of it… cue a petty back and forth between him and reader, and reader gets out of the house to cool off and meanwhile chuuya finally comes to his senses. He tries to reason with reader when they come back, but they end up doing exactly what chuuya did to them, dismissing him and not accepting any form of half-assed apology. and so,,,,,, chuuya tries to make it up to reader,,,, if ikwym :3c

cue chuuya eating out reader like his life depends on it /jjj ((THIS IS SO LONG LMAO IM LITERALLY SOSORRY))

"You're not getting tired of me, are you?" // C. Nakahara

Summary. Recently, Chuuya has been kinda distant lately, mostly due to his work. This also resulted into you mostly overthinking— what if he isn't at the office all the time just like says? With this thought at the back of your mind, you tried to make an effort to be nice and caring as possible, only for Chuuya to decline the food you make him, denying any help you offer and barely spending time, which made the thoughts even more scary. When you can't take it anymore, you snap, at first he didn't get what your problem was until he thought about your earlier attempts. Now driven with guilt, Chuuya wants to assure you're the most important thing to him and makes up for his actions in the process.

Tags. Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, the summary pretty much already tells the story, angst to smut to fluff maybe, miscommunication, Reader prolly has anxiety, swearing, ooc! Chuuya, suspicions of cheating, Chuuya didn't notice at first but it's okay he'll make it up by licking pussy ^_^, might be cringe, short too idk, Reader might be KINDAAA based off me, petnames (baby, doll, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex (afab! receiving), praising, overstimulation? , p in v, who knows maybe i fucked up the ask and wrote smth else, for the first time ever porn WITH plot, might have a rushed end, might contain grammar errors, etc.

"Hey, Chuuya, wanna eat? I made your favorite!", you said with a nervous tone painted in your voice, which Chuuya didn't really notice. "No, baby, I can't. Sorry, maybe next time?", he answered without even exchanging looks with you, just doing his paperwork as if it was more important to him. It's been like this for several days already and you did nothing but trying to help Chuuya to make things easier, but he didn't budge. You slowly started to get annoyed and just walked away to eat by yourself, silently.

With all kind of negative thoughts which caused you to overthink. These "thoughts" didn't leave you alone since he's become more distant. What if he's losing interest? What if he's not always late in the office? Am I annoying him and a burden? After you finished eating, you just put his plate into the fridge and sat alone in your living room. Some while later, Chuuya came to see you for a few minutes before returning to work. He tired hugging you but you rejected it. Confused, he looks at you before asking. "What's wrong, doll?", did he seriously just ask you that? After pushing away for the— what? The millionth time for his work? At this innocent question you snapped, well, not really but you were beyond pissed.

When Chuuya told you that he was probably busy for the next days, you understood, at first. Knowing Chuuya, he could make some time for you in between, right? He was your really loyal, sweet and loving boyfriend, caring was he too, of course Chuuya should be able to make atleast a little time. And to his credit, he did, at first. He took breaks in which he spent time with you, cooking your food with you, and also other activities you guys normally do. But with time, Chuuya got more and more work and spent less and less time with you. You also understood at first, and trying to be a good girlfriend, you tried to take some work off his back by doing some paperwork with him, only to deny you. Don't get Chuuya wrong, he appreciated it, but he'd rather do it himself. You understood, leaving him be, but then he started to work late, staying behind in the office. That's when you started to overthink a little. You really didn't want to let you thoughts get to you, Chuuya is loyal and so loving he would never, right? Why was he even staying so late in the first place? Was it because you constantly asked him to help to the point he wanted to work in the office at work? These thoughts would slowly consume you later on, and instead of speaking with Chuuya about it, you kept it to yourself, you didn't want to annoy him anyways. It's been 3 days later and he didn't even say a single word to you, just work, work, work. Were you even Chuuya's top priority at this point? You just let him distance himself, in hope of him noticing your presence. All this did was make the situation worse, to the point where you cried yourself to sleep at night feeling unwanted. Did Chuuya finally notice? No, his head is still drowned in paperwork. "Chuuya, do you have time right now?" — "No. Go do something else, doll, I still have work left." His tone had some harshness to it, a hint of annoyance too. But maybe it was because of the stress because of work. "I could help him maybe.", you told yourself, you don't want him to overwork himself, has he even eaten today? "Well, maybe I could help with the paper—" — "You can't, so please go. I still have a lot left." — "But I could—" — "Just go, I'm busy. I can't really talk with you 'cause you're gonna distract me." What a reason, but you can't let him push you away now, can you? "Chuuya, please, I just wanna help you—" — "Just leave me the hell alone and do something else. Look, I love you for trying, I don't need your help the only this you're doing right now is distracting me." "If you say so." Was all you said before leaving his home office without saying another word.

That was the last time you talked to him during these days, but today, was the day you finally snapped at him for pushing you away all these days. And for what did he push you away? For trying to be nice and take some shit off his back? "What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you pushed me away for— what? A week and a half?!", you explained with anger behind your voice, which Chuuya wasn't familiar with. "Doll, I didn't push you away—", before he could speak you went on. "Stop with the bullshit. Whenever I tried helping with anything you always denied me! I can't do this anymore.", you said with a crack in your voice, now Chuuya slowly got pissed too, was it his fault for having an asshole of a boss?

"Do you think I want to do this? Who in the hell would participate in such work as a fucking joke?!", he said rather louder than you. "Your damn work seems to be more important that me, when was the last time you looked me in my face?", you stood up from the couch. "You wouldn't even know what to do!", "I could've if you took some fucking time to explain!", you shouted back, this is where Chuuya might have lost his temper. "Why the hell should I? You won't even understand when I tell you to leave! I'm sorry if the world doesn't fucking revolve around you, some people have other priorities?!", his voice got angrier and louder.

"Appearently I'm not your first priority, which is what I'm supposed to be?! I just wanted to spend time with you, but if I'm so fucking 'distracting' then I'll leave!", "Oh, so now you can take a damn hint?", he called after you tried to walk away. "What?", you stopped and turned around to face him. "Fuck you, then. I'm done, go do your work which is more important to me! All I was doing was to try—", "I don't give a fuck if you were "trying" shit! Just fucking don't because it won't matter anyway all you're being is annoying and desperate.", Chuuya shouted at you.

"So I'm annoying you now?", you said, your voice going quieter. "Yeah, with the way you were constantly up in my shit. You're not the most important thing right now, just stop trying to stress me more than you already are.", when he said that, you were facing the floor, fighting back the angry tears that were building up. "Alright, go do your work. I'll leave you to it.", you muttered, walking towards your door to take a walk. Chuuya just tsk'ed and went back to his room. It was quiet in the apartment, Chuuya was working on some papers left when he thought about your earlier argument. Wondering why you started it, he thought about what you said and slowly realized that what you said was true. He has gotten more distant, he was a little rude to you about leaving him alone and barely paid you and your attempts to help attention.

Knowing he probably fucked up in those past days, hurting your feelings and calling you 'annoying and desperate' probably caused the biggest guilt he ever experienced. Chuuya tried calling you but you hung up instantly. Okay, reasonable. The second time he called you took you're time to pick up. "Hey, baby—", "What do you want?", you asked coldly. "I thought you wanted to be left alone.", Chuuya could hear the pain in your voice. "Look, darling, you know I didn't mean what I said. It was the stress—", you really didn't wanna hear him right now, especially his excuses. "Sorry, Chuuya but I don't really wanna talk right now, since I'm annoying you anyways, talk to you later.", before getting another word out, you hung up. Chuuya just took deep sigh and thought of ways to apologize and make it up to you.

You first left at 6pm but returned at 8pm, you were a little tired after walking a lot so you looked forward to lay in your shared bed, alone again probably. You changed into Chuuya's shirt just like you have been these last several days for some missing closure, not forgetting your shorts before you sat on the bed to be on your phone. Not even five minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing Chuuya with a guilt driven face. "What?, you asked him once again. "Can we talk, please?", you just stared at him before nodding. He sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him, you moved to the edge of the bed to sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry,", Chuuya started. "I'm sorry for neglecting you these past days, didn't mean to make you feel like a burden.", "So you finally got the hint?", you ask sarcastically. "Baby, I mean it. I shouldn't have priotized my work over you and pushed you away during it. I never wanted to feel unimportant.", he held your hand now, gently caressing it. "The stress made me act this way probably and i shouldn't have lashed out at you. You forgive me?", your gaze was still as cold. Chuuya just pulled you close to him, finally after a week, this made you realize that you missed him more than you thought.

Chuuya stroked your back, kissing your forehead first, then your cheeks, and lastly, your lips— those lips he hasn't kissed for something which felt like an eternity. He just wanted to make it up to you one way or another. "Lay down, dollface, wanna make you feel good.", Chuuya said to you while he was holding your chin. "I haven't fully forgiven you yet, y'know that, right?", looking away while you said this, Chuuya just had to chuckle. "You're gonna when I'm done with you, trust me.", you rolled your eyes and just laid back like he wanted. Chuuya moved himself between your legs, removing the shorts and panties blocking his path and letting your legs hang over his shoulders.

"No need to tense up, pretty, jus' relax,", he whispered, pressing kisses to your thighs, never breaking eye contact. Those kisses started to get closer and closer to your cunt, which was waiting for his tongue. Once his mouth got to it's destination, Chuuya started his work. He ate you out like his life depended on it, but he made sure he won't make a big mess. You where quietly moaning, trying to not be heard by him. "Why so quiet, sweetheart?", he lightly teased, you just looked away again. "C'mon, look at me. I wanna make you feel good, remember that?", you looked back at him, your cheeks were slightly flushed and lust was filled in your eyes. Chuuya dived back in and kept his eye contact with you, looking at you while you try to bite down your moans. This only made him suck on your clit, which also broke your silence.

It didn't take long for you to finish with Chuuya looking at you while pleasuring you. As you came on his tongue, still breathing unsteady, Chuuya got up between your legs. "You're so perfect like this, darlin'.", he whispered before kissing you, you could loosely taste yourself on his tongue. While he was kissing you, he freed his cock out of his pants. Chuuya stopped kissing you for a second to insert his dick inside you. He stroked your folds with his tip to catch some slick and entered almost easily, as if your cunt was sucking him in. "Fuck, I forgot how good you felt around me. Forgive me for neglecting this perfect— oh, fuck!", he cut himself off by starting to thrust.

If you weren't loud earlier, you definitely were now. Chuuya was kissing you while being inside you, thrusting while his lips were on yours, whispering "I love you"s and apologies to you. "You're so good for me, fuck— I love you so much.", his thrusts got sloppier, meaning he was close. Your arms were thrown around his neck as you threw your head back, you could feel your upcoming orgasm. "Chuuya— shit, 'm so close, please don't stop!", "Wasn't planning on it, you feel way too good for that, baby.", as your cunt clenched down around him, he surprisingly moaned, instantly cumming inside you. He thrusted once more and that's when you came undone a second time.

"So. . did you change your mind, doll?"

@moth-of-mythos // @pretendtobesick04 // @alastors-deerest // @shi-nakano // @samutoru // @munnaitorei // @sjsnsidream // @shuwyyx // @skelitea // @xaviawinter // @cvidy // @cherrytreegrove // @skk-lover // @pe4rl-diver // @walking-simp

Sorry if ur tag didn't work 😕 also sorry if I fucked the storyline up

#chuuya'sheaven ♡#chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #chuuya angst

405 notes · View notes

eternal-evergreens · 2 months

Note

Excuse me, may I give you a request about yandere Dire Crowley and yandere Divus Crewel spanking female reader together all the time?

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Painful Pastimes, Playful Punishments"｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post format: drabble

Paring: Yandere!Divus Crewel x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Dire Crowely

Word count: 809

Warnings: Spanking, Humiliation, Power Play, Steamy But Not Outright NSFW, Forced Relationship, Implied Drugging, Disassociation, Non-depicted NonCon

"Count."

You've done this before. It should be okay, right? You should be used to it by now. It should be fine. It should be—

"He said count, darling," Crewel coos, an underlying impatience in his tone.

"O...kay," you murmur. Then, remembering they hate when you're quiet, you say again, louder, "Okay."

"Okay?" Crewel asks, a rising anger in his voice. You pale.

"I-I mean, yes. Yes sir. Sirs. Yes Sirs."

"Good girl," says Crowley, a clawed hand reaching out to stroke your cheek. He wipes away a tear you hadn't even realised had fallen. "Ready?" You nod, the lump in your throat too large for you to trust your own voice.

In an instant, you're placed on your stomach over your captors laps as your skirt is lifted and your panties are dragged down. You feel tears welling up in your eyes as someone strokes the flesh of your ass. A warning of what's to come. The hand is ungloved, it always is. They take them off beforehand.

You can't look, you don't look. You close your eyes. How many times have you been through this? You should be used to it by now.

Without warning, a hand comes crashing down onto your cheek. You gasp, and the tears you had been holding in escape from your eyes like a tidal wave.

"O-one," you spit out weakly. How many were they going to do again? You can't remember. You can't even remember what you did, this time. All you can focus on is the pain. They always feed you something before a session, 'to ensure you have enough energy to make it through'. You think they're drugging you to make it hurt more.

Another hand, or maybe the same one. You can never tell. The searing agony is only intensified by the second blow, and you just barely manage to choke out, "Two."

"It seems our little dove is having trouble," Crowley purrs, running a hand through your hair in a mock attempt at comfort. "Should we go a little easier on her?"

"Perhaps we can treat her to something after," Crewel says. "But only if she's good."

A sob escapes you at the third slap.

"Oh dear, we're only a tenth of the way done and you're already struggling, pup?"

"Three..." you mutter, clenching your teeth.

"F...our..."

You're just barely holding it together.

"F-fi-ive..."

Your cries turn to full blown sobs, your body shaking with each breath. Whatever they gave you—and they must have gave you something—was working. You could focus on nothing but the sheer, agonizing pain emanating from your bare bottom.

"Ten..."

It hurts it hurts it hurts.

"Fifteen..."

It hurts.

"Twenty..."

You sniffle, but no tears come out.

"Twenty-five..."

Your tears have long since dried, replaced by stoic acceptance and a touch of dissociation. Your voice echos inside your own head, as if it was coming from some place far, far away. You think they can sense you're not entirely there, but if they do, they don't seem to care enough to acknowledge it.

"Thirty..."

If you were standing, you're sure you would have collapsed to your knees the second the word came out of your mouth. But you aren't standing, so all you can do is feel your body spasm, so disconnected from it that the pain feels foreign, like you're just holding on to it for someone else. Like it's not your own.

"She did good, didn't she?" Crowley says. "I think she deserves a reward."

"I agree," says Crewel. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. You go cold at the sound of two belts unbuckling.

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

The bed is hot and sticky, but you can't bring yourself to move from it. Uncomfortable as it may be, the pain resulting from a session of punishment and two sessions of a so-called 'reward', you don't trust your legs to stand at all, much less carry you all the way to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

You don't think your two tormentors are willing to help, either, with the way Crewel is scrolling on his phone with a pipe in hand and Crowley is preening himself in the mirror. You sigh silently, having no choice but to accept your fate of lying listlessly for the next few hours until you can muster up the strength to leave and change the sheets (Crowley always promises to do it 'next time' and Crewel refuses to dirty his hands, leaving only you to clean up after their messes).

You wonder how much longer you'll have to live like this. How many more spankings you'll have to endure until you finally succeed. You wonder how many attempts to free yourself you'll have to fail before the two of them realize what you're truly up to.

You wonder if you'll ever see the light of day again, when that time comes.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #divus crewel #divus crewel x reader #yandere divus crewel #yandere crewel #dire crowley #dire crowley x reader #yandere dire crowely

180 notes · View notes

lovelybotblog · 1 month

Text

─ iv. sympathy is a knife

summary: For some reason the universe always puts you in an unfavorable situation, a super secret mission with the person you don't want to encounter, you wouldn't achieve, not even if you tried. pairing: Satoru Gojo x female reader content: this bitches are messy asf, you guys are classmates but you don't fw his personality, I would say most of this is angst and also backstory from the reader song of the chapter: sympathy is a knife by charli xcx word count: 6.2k

“y/n, come here,” Sensei Yaga called you behind your back.

You pulled your head out of the classroom you were peaking for any sign of an acquaintance. You went for a nap after your morning class but since then neither Shoko nor Suguru had made an appearance, oddly to the usual, because they always managed to sneak on your bedroom and accompany you in the bed or sitting in your desk and finishing their homework, sharing the warmth of the sunset rays invading your room by the window.

“Follow me.” Your superior orders as you close the door in front of you, you raise an eyebrow when you catch a glimpse of mysteriousness in his movements, but never questioning it. You did the requested, walking behind the big figure of his.

You were getting used to sudden motivational talks and secret training sessions. You have met him before entering Jujutsu High, the first time you remember meeting him was at your parents funeral, ten years ago when Sensei Yaga had just gotten his teaching license. Nowadays, you weren’t really saddened by the absence of your parents, you no longer remembered them as much, they were like fleeting memories. You were too young, and you didn’t remember most of your early years, but the way you saw how your life was getting discussed in the living room of your house by your family and some said friends of your parents was important enough to remember.

"She's too young for us to take her, you know that," you remember hearing Yaga say to your mother's sister.

"Well, she is one of your kind, isn't she?" The woman replied, arms crossed, tears pooling in her eyes. You were never appreciated in that family of non-sorcerers, to them you were the spitting image of your father, the man who led your mother astray. "It will be easier for you to control her than we ever will be, that girl is a bad omen."

You still remembered the repudiation that their eyes expressed, the rejection that they always had towards you, a girl who hugged the empty coffin of her parents because the thing that killed them didn’t even leave a trace of their existence.

Your mother came from a middle-class, non-sorcerer family in the suburbs of Tokyo. It was a surprise to them to learn that their youngest daughter had "diabolical" abilities, though they let it pass because she was a good girl and still had time to be rescued, but that hope was dashed when she met your father and announced her marriage. Your father was a deserted member of the Zen'in clan, a promising sorcerer but considered "weak" by the family when he refused to fulfill the role assigned to him.

Sensei Yaga was their younger classmate, one of his closest friends. He never had the opportunity to meet the daughter of his idols due to a busy schedule, until the assigned mission was to analyze the case of their death.

"It will only be a few years, the father's family is not an option." Sensei Yaga implored, knowing what you would be subjected to if you fell into the hands of the Zen'in. If he had the chance he would have taken you under his protection, but the director had been cautious enough and forbade it. With a pension of high digits he managed to get your mother's sister to agree, but that didn’t prevent the Zen'in from finding your existence and with a larger check you being acquired.

He had never confirmed it to you, but you know that deep down he cares about you. Ever since the checkups he took the time to do on you when you were under the control of the Zen'in clan, where you were neglected by the Old Man, how you always called the person who was assigned to take care of you and train you, but he did nothing but scold you and punish you if you didn't do outstanding right away.

"Are you going to tell me what's all the fuss about or...?" You inquired, hands posing on the side of your hips in annoyance, one of your feet tapping the floor as you saw your professor close the door of his office then moving to the chair of his desk.

He sighed, you always try to show everyone off with a defensive and calculating position, but that didn't work with him, he had met your scared and childish side. "I have a top secret mission for you." A smirk fighted to escape when he saw your eyebrows extend in curiosity and your eyes shine with hunger, waiting for more information. “This is the direction.” He handed you a paper with his writing on it.

"And what do I have to do?" You asked again, unsure of what to think. Usually they gave you papers with all the information about the case, maybe this was different because it was secret.

The illusion of having your first top secret mission collapsed when your superior spoke again.

"I entrusted this mission to Satoru Gojo in the morning, as I suppose you have noticed his absence in today's class," Yaga respond, of course you noticed, it didn't need a genius to see the lack of irritating noise and the eyes of a creep on your back missing. "He was supposed to just pick up a package and return, tha assistant assigned to accompany him lost him, you have to find him-"

His words were cut off by the paper he gave you, being irreverent thrown at his desk. "Sir, with all due respect, why don't you find another person to babysit that boy?"

Yaga fought the urge to rant about your generation of brats and troublemakers, always harassing his peace, but he just breathed out, "Because you are the best of your class, and the person I trust to bring back the package and Gojo Satoru."

"Then why did you send an incompetent like him before me?" You huffed, jutting your hip, leaning forward in an accusative way, he was so lying to your face.

“Ehh? I'm your authority, you shouldn't be questioning me, young lady." The professor pointed out, handing you the paper again. He hoped that would be enough for you to take the case with no-whining about it. You took the paper from his hand, dissatisfied with the situation he was putting you on.

"Is that all?"

He nodded, dismissing you with a wave of his hand, trying not to chuckle as he watched you give him your back grumbling. He knew he might provoke some riot, forcing you to interact with Gojo. Actually, he didn't even need to give his students the mission. It was just a request the principal had made him, an easy to-do, but Yaga was too fatigued and Gojo was getting on his nerves earlier in the day, so yeah, the first thing that came on his mind was sending him away to a ‘mission he was the only one capable to do’.

You smacked your tongue against your teeth as you got out of the car that took you to the shopping district in downtown Tokyo, passing by Gojo's assistant. You couldn't blame him, your partner was a nightmare to deal with, but because of his carelessness you now found yourself searching for the strongest sorcerer on a street filled with crowds of people.

“Which way did he go?” You asked the assistant without stopping your walk, analyzing the street and the stores in the place. It was obvious that he got distracted from the purpose of his visit, you knew that if he had been attacked he would have easily gotten out of it, so that was not an option.

“Over there," the man replied, an unsettling anxious tone in his voice. He screwed up leaving Gojo alone, and now another sorcerer was sent to finish the job. "But that was hours ago. When I went to look for him, I couldn't find him. I don't know where he could be now. I'm really sorry."

“No worries, and thank you.” You reassured him, trying to put on your best smile to comfort him. You didn't know where he could be either, you didn't know him well enough to know where he could be, he could even have already left.

You continued walking down the sidewalk, glancing at the shops trying to find something that your classmate might be interested in. You were sure that the hardest part of the mission was finding him, but for a moment the option of picking up the package crossed your mind. After all, Gojo would be back that night or the next day, but you couldn't afford to leave a classmate behind. You were tasked with returning with the package and Gojo Satoru.

You chuckled, the universe always managed to get him on the track of your life, it was funny because that was one of the few things you avoided. Then you remembered how Suguru, one break between classes, when you and him were laying in a tree, the shadow of it cooling you from the heat of the sun, your shoulder brushing each other, and the first thing he said to you was, 'Why don't you try to sympathize with him?'

How could you? He threatened your success, your well being in your family was based on how much you could match his strength, they didn't expect anything from someone like you, you were warned to stay away from him, the reason the sorcerer community was shakened. Yet, you thought that if you were strong, you could live a better life. You didn't needed to gain approval by the Zen'in clan, but you did want to prove that you could be better than what they expected, that you could be someone to fear.

It burned you, it embarrassed you the way you think of him.

You finished browsing the clothing stores without any trace of his cursed energy, you were at the crossroads between the souvenir street and the food street. You would be in a dilemma if you hadn't seen the disgusting way he ate morbid amounts of food.

By now he should be hungry, you wanted to be sure you were right, little by little your annoyance began to increase and if you didn't find him quickly, the news of a whole street being strangely banished was going to be on the cover of the newspaper the next morning.

You had been walking for about an hour, approaching the windows of the shops to get a better look at the people, it was easy to notice a tall mop of white hair. You were really trying to convince yourself that spending so much time with non-sorcerers helped you understand them better, but god- you couldn't help but get irritated, noticing how they worried about such insignificant things, living so naïvely of the world around them.

You were starting to think about the 'what if', you hated those words. Rarely, but sometimes you think about what your life would be like if you weren't a sorcerer, nothing ever comes to your mind.

Almost unnoticed, a Mochis stand flashes in the background of your peripheral vision. A strong feeling hit your chest, suddenly cursed energy was screaming all over the place, that was why you hadn't noticed it from a distance.

You strode down to him, sneaking through the crowd of female vendors surrounding him, offering him samples of all kinds of mochi. Of course you were going to find him in that kind of situation. He was so delighted that he didn't notice you by his side for a few seconds, his arms were scoot with bags of shopping hanging, his hands full of the colorful desert, his round sunglasses slid down his nose.

“Mhmp.” You cleared your throat, both arms crossed over your chest to keep from punching his face off.

You watched as his head slowly turned towards you, eyes closed savoring the sweetness on his tongue and a bright smile plastered on his face, which slowly faded as his eyes took in the person in front of him.

"Is she your girlfriend?" A girl squealed beside him, your face twisted, looking up and down at the man in front of you, muttering a ─ew, no─

“Uhh- I- I didn’t knew you were here too.” He mumbled with rests of mochi stuffed in his mouth. He didn't decided yet if the bitterness that had fallen down his throat was because of the surprise of running into you or because of the annoyance that your face directed at him.

"I'm not supposed to.” You grunted, rolling your eyes. “Do you have the package?” You questioned, hoping that you could return quickly to the comfort of your bedroom. But you weren't that lucky, Gojo's face was lost in confusion, "The package? The thing that you were sent here for?" You asked, raising your tone, but your breath left you when the snow-haired boy popped a mochi into his mouth again.

"Oh, I forgot. I thought I had the day off." Gojo replied nonchalantly, slowly turning his back to you with a giddy smile, taking out money of his wallet to finally make his purchase.

“Huh? How could you forget that?!” You yelp, the vendors of your sides slowly disappearing from the scene. “"I've had enough, let's go." You ordered, smacking his arm, turning your body to leave as you massaged your nose bridge, a pang resounded on the sides of your forehead.

Gojo glanced at you, then the mochis, “I’m not going to waste my time on this.” He heard you say as you walked away.

The white-haired boy quickly exchanged the money for the box of mochi and bowed to the girls in gratitude, and sorry for the bother with your grumpiness. You are so moody─ he thought, following your steps as he carried the shopping bags on his sides.

When he reached your pace, he tried to read your expression. It was the first time the two of you were out on a mission, it was the first time the two of you were alone. But that didn't seem to bother you for him, you were too busy trying to locate where you were, eyebrows furrowed and your lips pouted in concentration.

He giggled, caughting your attention, enough for you to glance at him pissed off. He ignored it, taking the paper off your hand with the directions, reading it fast as he tilted his head to the street on your right. “C'mon,” He said.

"I have to make a call first." You stopped him, walking over to one of the nearby pay phones, the boy looked at you with a raised eyebrow, confused as to what you were going to do but following you anyway.

You stuffed the money into the slot of the machine and called Gojo's assistant. You grabbed the phone and placed it to your ear, the automated voice playing that your call was being transferred. You tugged your earlobe, facing more at the wall in front of you, avoiding Gojo's gaze.

He put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall next to you, looking away when he noticed what you were doing. His gaze fell upon a group of middle school girls who were watching you from a table outside a cafeteria, giggling and mumbling amongst themselves.

He huffed, his mind rambling about what was so funny about. He sneaked a glance at you, the way your gaze softened when you heard the assistant's voice, telling him that you found him. Then he looked at himself by your side, shopping bags in his arms. Both of you were wearing the same uniform, he guessed that for other people you looked like close friends hanging around after school, then he thinked a little more, boy and girl, you looked like a- He shook his head at that thought, a warmth settling on his neck.

You hung up the phone again and looked at Gojo, being more surprised that you would like when his cerulean eyes were already shining in your direction, "Are we going?" You said trying to keep your tone steady, letting out the air that the interaction had restricted you, you weren't used to looking him in the eyes.

He nodded, guiding you in the direction where you were going to pick up the package, since he was more familiar with the place than you.

You didn't notice, too deep in your thoughts, but a smile crept onto the white-haired boy's lips. You were walking together side by side, not you walking with a quick pace so as not to see his face, nor you walking too slowly behind him talking to Suguru immersed in your own conversation leaving him aside, this time it was you and him side by side.

When it came to you, you revolted his insides. Always too bratty, too hermetic for him to catch a glimpse of your true self. He could only see your outside, keeping him away with your indifference, something that causes a strong mordacious sting in his chest, bringing back memories of the rejection he received from his clan relatives and most of his upper classmates. But the difference between you and them was that you didn't show any kind of interest in him, neither positive nor negative.

When you passed by him you didn't look at him, and when you did you looked at him without any trace of expression, as if you were seeing a void. Never showing surprise by his ability to easily complete the ridiculously difficult training Yaga-sensei prepared for him, or by the missions he managed to successfully complete in record time.

But over time Satoru managed to notice that it was nothing more than a facade. You weren’t as heartless and blithe as you wanted to appear. He could see the twist upwards the corner of your lips made while hearing Shoko ramble or the way in which your eyes shone when you observed Suguru slowly getting beat by sleep in class. You would never admit it to him, but Satoru could tell how you cared for others from the shadows and secretly always trying to improve yourself.

You both walked in an unusual silence, making your way through the sea of people surrounding you. Your shoes echoed in unison against the stone floor until the sun set and the moon shone brighter under the cloak of the progressive darkness, leading your presences to an uninhabited street, only a couple of shops still in operation.

An old store that seemed to sell second hand items sat in front of you.

“Are you sure this is the address?” You questioned your classmate, grabbing the paper with the direction off his hand, no specifications of the place to help you.

He huffed, hanging his head in offense, “Tots.”

You entered the place keeping your doubts to yourself, you were no longer in the mood to question what you were doing. The top secret mission had seemed like nothing more than a joke to you, it shouldn't cost a sorcerer of your size so much. But the universe has managed to make the situation oddly inconvenient.

The lighting was poor, the wooden floor creaked with every step, the place smelled like dust and incense burning. You were supposed to just pick up a package but your instincts wouldn't let you let your guard down. There were only two customers in the store, hulky and grotesque looking, without a hint of cursed energy. But you knew too well that it wasn't synonymous of weakness.

Gojo walked behind you, his gaze shifting from object to object without interest, his hands clasped behind his head. When you got to the glass counter you didn't see any worker nearby, a well-polished golden bell shined in your sight and you pressed it. Gojo must have found it amusingly hilarious, because he pressed it not once, not twice, not even three times, but five times until you pushed his hand away.

He laughed out loud, the sound buzzing around the room as he turned around, flipping through a book on an oak shelf for sale. A man's voice echoed from behind a door at the back of the store, ‘coming!’. You couldn't help but prepare yourself for a possible fight, what if there was a misunderstanding and they didn't want to give you the package? Or if the package itself was of extreme importance and tried to steal it? You had to proceed defensively but there was no sign that those present were sorcerers. Even so, the companion on your side was surely going to want to show off if the opportunity arose.

The door opened, your gaze and Gojo's expectant, a hunched, white-bearded old short man smiled at you. Huh? You couldn't figure out what was so super secret about the situation, there were no obstacles to fight or some extreme security to break.

“Oi! The guys with the spiral buttons,” The man greeted you with narrowed eyes, putting on the glasses that rested on his head, realizing that you weren’t, in fact, men at all. "Oops, my sincerest apologies, young lady." He said ashamed under the thunderous and irritating laughter of your companion, who was holding his stomach and pointing at you mockingly.

You glared at him with flames in your eyes and gritted teeth, before returning your attention to the man in front of you. "Offense not taken." You try to answer kindly, faking a smile that only makes Gojo explode more because of the falseness of it. Maybe this is worse than getting covered in sticky curse residue.

“"I thought no one was going to pick it up anymore, I was told that you would come in the morning." The man pointed out the delay with some displeasure. You took the comment like a slap straight on the face, the snow-haired boy progressively quelling his laughter when it turned into embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, sir. There were some mishaps." You apologized, bowing your head in respect, poking Gojo in the ribs with your elbow to get him to repeat your action.

The old man nodded, waving a hand dismissively, he bent down to open the sliding door of the counter and took out a wooden box with several stamps indicating that it was a fragile product.

"The receipt?" The man asked.

Your eyes widened, you didn’t have it but Gojo quickly reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a sheet of paper folded in four and gave it to the man, who stamped one corner and signed it as delivered. "That would be all."

You cast a quick glance towards the suspicious men, now looking at a restored Nordic clock. If it were any package you would open it to check it, but it was clearly specified that it was secret even for you.

The harder part was finally over. You snapped your fingers at Gojo to carry the box, he clucked his tongue between his teeth and whispered 'Brat' low enough that only you and he could hear, but still he did as ordered. You pressured him from behind, tossing a thank you to the salesman as you walked towards the exit.

You both walked past the ones you thought might be a nuisance but were nothing more than simple shoppers. You were both dismissed by the door bell as it closed behind you. You let go a sigh, stretching your muscles, you don't even remember when you concentrated so hard to numb yourself that much.

“We should-” The sound of your mouth stops when you notice Gojo looking at you with a smirk, his glasses down in his nose bridge giving space to his eyes shining schemingly. “What?” You hiss, nothing good comes after his head flashes a thought.

“Aren't you curious what this box contains?" He asks you, running his fingers dangerously slowly over the opening of the box. You're about to say a direct no when he speaks again, “It could be a new special tool,” Gojo smiles from hear to hear, a purr longing in his words. Your low lip quivers, a new tool would be a good addition to your training. “What do you think it could be? Definitely not a type of sword, the box is too small."

You take an instinctive step back as he approaches you. “We are forbidden from opening it.”

Deny it, deny it, deny it, you forced yourself to fight his temptations.

"It's most likely a Kunai knife," Gojo ignored your comment, you growled, being intercepted by his right arm daring to rest on your shoulders, heat flooding your body. Your gaze fell on the contact of his hand with your shoulder, his heat poisoning your skin, making you stumble through your thoughts, you pushed him out of you by nature, or sanity preservation.

"But it would be epic if it were shurikens.” You heard him say, the jump in his voice when you looked at him didn't go unnoticed, he seemed as shocked as you were by his recent audacity. It was the first time he touched you, that he got physically close to you even. Gosh- you didn't even call him by his last name. “Didn’t you say you knew how to use them?" He tried to play it off.

His words brought you out of the trance of his eyes, you had never noticed that his glasses hid so much behind. His orbs resembled the bright water of tropical beaches so much, twining to the clear, aquamarine sky. Eyes shining like the reflection of the moon at night.

"Or receiving him at this place is just a facade, you know, because it's top secret." Gojo continued chattering, murmuring the last two words, his usual giddy smile plastered on his face again.

Your expression closed up, you truly were tempted to know the contents of the box but his way of convincing you was atrocious, he was just throwing a bunch of words at you until you gave in. He didn't even need your permission, and if he wanted, he could blame you for opening it.

Although the culprit would be more than obvious.

“Come on, I know you want to." Gojo coo, passing the box in front of your face, you shake your head, eyes closed and arms crossed. He pouted in annoyance but that didn't stop him from finding the truth himself. "Do you always play by the rules? Bo-ring."

You stuck your nose in the air, you weren't a sanctimonious person, but what was in the box was confidential information, you reminded yourself. Gojo looked to his sides and then lifted the lid of the box, eyes shining with excitement and a smile waiting for a big surprise.

Who were you kidding, you quickly approached to peek at the box.

As if you had witnessed a divine apparition, you raised your gaze to connect with his. Both of you were expressionless and your mouths were gaped, a confirmation that you didn't see wrong.

You both burst out laughing at the same time, as if you were looking at a reflection. Suddenly there were no barriers between you two, the revelation of the content was more outrageous.

It was a Hello Kitty music festival edition tea set.

Why of all the things that could be, it was just the most ridiculous?

If someone had told you in the morning that later you would find yourself laughing with Satoru Gojo, you would have checked-in the person in a psychiatric center for nutso.

Gojo's laugh was partially dismissed when he caught your smile, you were all laid back with the corners of your eyes crinkled, he felt like a warm blanket embraced his body. He was a little intimidated by the way he felt his pride rise at the knowledge that he now shared a memory with you, that he sighed in despair when your voice hummed like a melody from his ears to the cage of his chest.

Betrayed by his mouth his thoughts escaped out loud, "Knowing you could smile like that I would have made you laugh sooner."

As if you had been threatened with being pierced by a thousand cuts, you stopped dead.

Gojo felt a heat burn on his cheeks, the words stuck in his throat, but forcing himself to play it cool, “I don’t understand why you are always so pressed.”

Suddenly the atmosphere became bitter, settling into Gojo's body.

You regained your demure posture, weight once again falling on your shoulders, the constant brickbat not to ruin your family's appearance any further by hanging out with anomalies like Satoru Gojo drowning your thoughts. Your smile faded in eyebrows twitched and nose wrinkled, “I don't hope for you to understand.”

He shaked his head, deep down wishing that he could go back in time one minute ago.

“And if we are gonna talk about understanding, then I could say I don’t understand why you are so obnoxious all the time.” You snapped, an urge to return him the bad taste kicked in you. Contrary to what people thought, you didn’t enjoy fighting meaninglessly.

You knew that Gojo would one day return the pitiful behavior you directed at him, but you didn't expect to be shaken by such childish and insipid words like 'pressed'.

“You know nothing about me or my past, and I have never messed with you for you to try so hard to bother me and make my life difficult,” Your words came out of your mouth without thinking, as if a dam was overflowing without any control, making a direct path towards the destruction of everything nearby. "Because that seems to be what you want, you stand in one place without thinking twice about If you are blocking someone else's path."

You watched as white strands flew in front of his motionless eyes upon you, his mouth gate open to speak, closing again when nothing came out.

His thoughts bounced around with indecision, he didn't mean what he said, no, it was sincere but not worded correctly for you to understand. Then a crack split in his mind, but did you mean what you said? He wanted to know better than he did, that you weren't as deceiving and hurtful as you scratched, but any trace of your smile and the small dose of warmth it gave him left no trace behind when you noticed his presence. Your indifference hunted him down.

It wasn’t disinterest or apathy. Satoru's theory that his Six Eyes weren’t telling anything to him was wrong, his instinct was sending him signals but he simply couldn’t decipher it.

You were like searching for a message in a bottle sunken in the sea.

He would have every right to be angry at being judged and unwanted without reason, but he was looking for more behind that. Since that day when he saw you talking to Suguru, leaning on his shoulder, fully trusting all your weight in him, with your guard down and your expression so soft and attentive to his words, it made Satoru think that the reason for your behavior towards him was something more than simple annoyance or envy.

He'd be lying if he said he was used to being hated and rejected as well as praised and loved, sometimes he could tolerate it more, but you were like hiding small doses of poison in his favorite food.

"Is that what you think of me?" His voice came out more sneering than his expression reflected.

He didn’t consider himself an understanding person, he tried to be until people convinced him that the world owed him for his existence. That if he was born with the purpose of being better than others and protecting them, then he was at a godlike level above them.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your fists clenched, you couldn't figure out if he was still provoking you or if he was trying to hide his thoughts.

"I don't trust someone who is always smiling and whose only method of communication is to piss people off with wordplay.” You added, catching his grin tense.

You had been watching him from your peripheral vision for as long as you'd known him. Unlike you, he didn't enjoy a serious fight that was open to negative emotions.

"I don’t like you not because you're immature or loud, or because you've been the face of jujutsu sorcery since you were born." Your words meandered in front of the boy, accompanying you as you got closer to him, each step squeezing his chest, making it difficult to breathe normally. The atmosphere was tense and it progressively closed in even if you were outdoors.

It was twisted the way you could aimlessly shoot your words like bullets to his weak points, but it was more twisted the way he let you keep going just to hear what your perception of him was. As if that would be the key to finding the answers to do the same with you.

He was a better-man than the rest of humanity because he had the power to be worse than any.

“I don’t like you because you were given everything and you don’t seem to take the importance of it, you have every right to not care about it or anyone.”The fact that you were opening your deepest feelings was revolting your insides, your despair crawling weighing on his body.

“Is that so?” He nagged, gripping the edges of the wooden box still between his arms around his chest. Being used so childishly and uselessly as protection from your snipes.

It wasn't just your thoughts about him, but also the emotional discharge you were throwing at him. You were aware that he was not at fault for being the switch-breaker of the community of sorcerers and curses, it just turned out that casualty made both of you meet your paths.

“You represent everything! You are strength and the reminder that weakness exists because you aren't that.” Your voice was raised, piercing his ears, wording him so kindly but also recalling every scolding and reviling surmised to him by everyone who misinterprets him.

"And that's the only thing that makes you oppose me?"

"Of course not!” You replied, biting your lower lip, hesitant to say what was next, but you were tired of keeping it in. Those feelings wore you down just as his cursed energy consumed his brain, “I'm selfish, I'm ambitious, it frustrates me that we could seem to come from similar and privileged places and at the same time be so different and hurt. I'll never be able to be as skilled or powerful as you, no one else can, I can't aspire much to things that are innate given to you without forgetting my limits."

Your head was pounding incessantly, you didn't know if it was because of the accumulated fatigue or the embarrassment that was growing red and hot on your face.

“But the thing is,” You murmur, stepping closer, the box with the package was the only thing producing space between you, a quick flash of a thought wondered if it wasn’t there, how much would you dare to get close? Enough to slap him? Enough to push him?, “I don’t understand why everyone expects so much from you, because to me you seem just like a kid who obviously would rather not carry all the weight people put on him.”

His eyebrows raised, his eyes widened, and his cheeks tinted pink as your pitiful soft gaze fell upon him, intimidating him as if he were a child again. Anyone would think that you were seeing him as a poor thing, as if you wanted to snatch away what he owned, as if you were going to stab him with a dagger out of compassion.

But he had the ability to see further than others, physically and figuratively. You didn't need to give him more explanations to make him understand, although your actions firstly made him think that you weren't even a little envious of him, they were uncertain, your sincerity led him further into his thinking.

You were real, you were observant and cautious for that very reason, you had become one of the first people that saw him beyond prejudice. You were capable of being human and aware of your weaknesses, and at the same time being governed by reason and morality. He couldn't blame you for keeping your distance with him because his nonchalant and playful mask had been dismantled without him realizing it.

He played his most annoying card, he tried to bring you to the edge of hysteria to test your limits and he never completely succeeded because you were surely just as or even smarter than him, and you were also testing him.

It didn't bother him that people thought he was arrogant and apathetic, after everything experienced in his lifetime he concluded that not everyone had the capacity to understand the level he was at.

When the car that would take you back to Jujutsu High arrived, you got in without saying a word or looking at him, not ignoring him because you were mad but because you understood that what you said not only implied your vulnerability, but his as well.

‘You seem just like a kid who obviously would rather not carry all the weight people put on him’ He couldn't even get angry or overthink about your raw comments that hurt his ego. For the first time in his life he felt truly seen and he couldn't stop himself from constantly smiling about it.

94 notes · View notes

grievedeeply · 1 year

Note

hi! do u think u can write some platonic miguel o’hara x reader headcannons ? where the reader is around miles and gwen’s age (they’re also a spider-person) and they develop a father-child/mentor relationship

soooo i decided to combine this request with another one since they're so similar. so at the end of this, there's a short drabble about the scenario they requested! enjoy!

gn!reader | tws: mentions of death and loss, ivs, hospitals in general, everything that comes with being hurt

platonic miguel o'hara headcanons + drabble

he has trouble thinking of anyone as family. he lost his daughter, and his family.. it feels wrong of him to think of anyone else in the way he thought of them

until you come along. you, so happy to be involved in the spider society, so happy to be helping.. it always puts a grin on his face. an expression that had felt somewhat unfamiliar to him since the losses he experienced

it takes him a long time to ever get him to admit to anyone that he cares about you. he's a tough person with an equally tough exterior, so expect him to keep up that act for awhile

you're just so young. you're learning and growing and he wants to be there for all of it. it's a weird thing for him to feel and he doesn't really like it

eventually, he'll start to crack. he becomes a bit of a mentor for you, teaching you everything you need to know about being a spider person (even if you already know it)

miguel doesn't know how to express his emotions very well, but he does care about you. he just shows it in different ways than saying it verbally. he'll buy you something you mentioned liking and leave it in your room in your universe to find

you think of him as a father, but you don't bring it up to him. it feels weird to say something like that to his face. why would he think of you in a familial way anyway? you were just some extra spider.. right?

you were too reckless. he remembered telling you that one day. all you did was shrug your shoulders and laugh it off, telling him you'll be fine. you didn't stay true to your word, and he wished that he was there. he didn't even know what happened, but as soon as he was told of your injuries he rushed off to see you.

critical condition. he repeated the words over and over in his head. he couldn't go through another loss like this, he told himself. he should've never gotten so attached to you. what was wrong with him? doesn't he know better by now? all of his relationships end in flames. why was he so intent on keeping you by his side, of keeping you safe? you just reminded him so much of her.. too much.

his daughter was younger than you when she died.

he couldn't protect her, but he could protect you. he should've protected you, and he berated himself for not being there. he should've given you something easier. he knew you could handle yourself well, but he couldn't help but to think that he was at fault for your injuries. you were always so reckless. what did you do this time?

he repeated your room number in his mind now, over and over like a mantra until he stood outside of the door. was he even ready to see you like this? he imagined the ivs poking through your skin, the oxygen hooked up to you through your nose. no, he told himself, but he will anyway. it was better to see you if you were to..

he pushed the thought out of his head at the same time he pushed open the door. the room was completely empty. the steady beating of your heart through the monitor filled the air, and he took in a deep, shaky breath. you were asleep. good. you needed to be. you looked just as he expected, only worse. your body was covered in bruises and bandages that covered up cuts you received in your fight.

whoever did this would pay.

he pulled up a chair, making sure to stay as quiet as he could to risk waking you from your slumber. hesitantly, he lived his hand to yours.

he sat it on top of it. your wrappings that covered your hands were drenched in blood. he clenched his jaw. they would pay.

he wouldn't let his family get taken away from him again. he couldn't. he stared down at your face.

you were his own, and they would pay.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #across the spider verse x reader #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

1K notes · View notes

billsbabydoll · 2 months

Text

“𝓃ℴ ℴ𝓃ℯ𝓈 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓂ℯ, 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊.”

contains:PURE FLUFF<3

summary:being apart of tokio hotel was a complete dream come true! me and bill had quickly grown closer as the years passed but would we ever tell each-other about our secret crush on one another? one day while working our new album “humanoid” someone has a long confession to make.

WARNINGS:cringe fluff again, friends to lovers, crush confession, first kiss.

notes:requested by anonymous hope you enjoy this story!also my dms are open to more suggestions:)))

ive been apart of the band since they were devilish and i played second guitar, working with the four boys throughout the years has been a wonderful experience.they all were like family to me but bill was different, every other member i saw as a brother but him something about him was different.he was confident, silly understanding, caring, and obviously sooo handsome.

bill and me had become best friends over the years, doing each-others makeup, shopping together, writing lyrics together, sometimes we even cuddled together in the tour bus.

the other boys would poke fun at us and say “can yall just kiss already?” or tom would usually say “bill fuck her before i do.” we both would just nervously laugh it off but something about the way he looked at me longingly afterwards told me maybe he did want to do just that, but too afraid to just say something.

today we had to do some recording and stuff in the studio, i was the first to arrive making my way inside beginning to set up and plug in my guitar.

then the door suddenly opened and there came in my favorite boy ever, little to no makeup on, his dreads resting on his shoulders, wearing some black sweats, his adidas sweater and a pair of sneakers.he yawned as he closed the door and made his way over to me, tapping my shoulder from behind.

“hallooo liebling! (hi darling).” he said his thick german accent coming through as he clapped his hands excitedly together.

i turned around meeting his gorgeous hazel eyes and cheesy smile, i quickly return the smile “hii billy!” i reply matching the same excitement as i pull him into a gentle embrace, before letting go.

he lets go as well before taking a seat on the nearby stool tapping the one next to him, signaling for me to sit as well.i nod and take a seat turning myself to the side now facing him, he does the same thing, our eyes meeting again.

we began talking about whatever random things we always talked about giggling and laughing our heads off like we always did, not realizing 30 minutes passed and the other boys still hadn’t shown up.

when we do realize, we confusedly check the time seeing it’s been an hour passed the original time we were supposed to be recording and working on some new lyrics.we debated on leaving or waiting it out for a little while longer, we figured it could just be traffic.

we decided to make use of us being at the studio and began to work on this song we came up with “down on you”.

“how about we change it to -an angels kiss is waiting- ?” i suggest humming it softly to him.

“okay okay i like it!” his eyes lighting up at my suggestion, writing it down quickly on his notebook.

we continue working on the song for a bit (more like 5 minutes) before soon giving up, finding it too hard to work and also focus as bill keep cracking jokes and making me laugh.bill got up putting the notebook, coming back to sit down again.

he suddenly began to speak up again his demeanor now anxious and tense, “i have something ive been keeping from you and I don’t know an easier way to say this.”

“bill what’s wrong, it’s okay i won’t judge you if its something bad?”i responded trying to sound as reassuring and polite as possible, trying to make him feel at ease.

“ich mag dlich wirklich du bist alles was ich wollte und suchte.ich weib dass es kompliziert sein wind wenn du schriebst dass ich auf tour bin, wir werden dafür sorgen, dass es klappt, das verspreche ich. (i really like you, your everything ive wanted and been looking for.i know it will be complicated when you write i tour, we’ll make it work i promise).”he said looking down to not see my expression.

truly i was shocked but not at his confession but that I was right, i knew he felt it too!

“ich mag dich auch wirklich, du hast recht, wir werden dafür sorgen, dass es klappt liebe. (i really like you too your right, we’ll make it work love).” i reply while reaching my hand down grabbing his chin making him look up at me, letting go once his eyes meet mine.

his expression transforms into a delighted and happy one a smile now tugging at the corners of his lips, his eyes glistening with joy.he then leans in wrapping his arms around me as he holds me in a tight and warm embrace, kissing the top of my head.

he sways me in his arms for a moment longer before letting go, his hand now intertwined in mine.looking at me with so much excitement and adoration, (this guy was whipped).

i move in closer closing my eyes as i place my lips upon the lips ive been longing for forever, catching his lips into a gentle and perfect kiss.fireworks seemed to pop around us, our first kiss of many.

he moved his hand onto the side of my waist the other on the back of my head keeping me in place. his tongue finding its way inside, our tongues soon moving in perfect harmony.he’s an even better kisser than i ever imagined, tasting like mint and sweet honey.

the moment was quickly put to an end as we heard the sound of hands clapping and laughing, we both confusedly pull away and look over, seeing tom, gustav and, georg giggling like little school girls.

“when did yall come in?!” me and bill unanimously yelled.

“oh not long ago yall were just too busy swapping spit to hear us come in, so we decided to enjoy the show.” tom chuckled crossing his arms over his chest, the other boys still laughing.

“TOM!”we both yell.

THE END

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #georg listing #gustav schäfer #Spotify

64 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 2 years

Text

Warning: Yandere, Mentioning of an accident, blood, wounds, Needles/IV Drips (Hospital thematic in general), Murder and Suicidal Thoughts

A yandere who always brings fresh flowers when they visit you in the hospital.

The nurses love them, doctors smile at them, and they are generally known as the sweetest and kindest visitor by everyone. It's such a tragedy that you are hospitalized, unable to do much as your body recovers from a tragic accident. But luckily, you have such a wonderful partner who—despite everyone believing they greatly suffer in silence as well—comes to visit you every day. Everyone is swooning about the yan's dedication to you, the way their face lights up when they talk about how amazing you are and how much they love you. They have everyone fooled completely.

No one would suspect they are the reason you are hospitalized.

"I told you to be more careful who you're hanging out with," they reprimand you with a smile curling their lips upwards, holding your hand with the IV needle inserted, and letting their thumb caress your weak joints gently. There's a scolding in the way they pick on your scratches, opening them until they draw blood, but their hold on you is reverent. As if they feared losing you once again if they let go. They told you so many times to stay away from other people! Assuring you countless of days that you only need the yan by your side! But you just wouldn't listen to them... Look what that did to you.

You can only watch them through heavily lidded eyes, barely fully awake with the pain meds clouding your mind. No one can blame you for not truly realizing everything the yan is doing by your bedside. And yet, in the few moments of clarity, when your gaze falls on them, your eyes are filled with deep hatred, only the tube down your throat preventing you from screaming at them.

If only you had listened to them, they wouldn't have needed to take such drastic measures to assure you'd be in a controlled environment, somewhere only carefully selected people could attend to you—including the yandere. Buying you a single room and only putting the best doctors in charge with a small fee to silence them had been much easier than getting you into the hospital in the first place. Perhaps your selfish, little heart will never understand how much pain the yandere had been in before they assured you couldn't go anywhere without their permission anymore. It was not easy to hurt the person they love the most, but it was a necessity. They did it because they love you. They care for you. They adore you.

Now they can finally bask in the glory of it only being you two. Sun shining in from the large windows they opened for you, the summer breeze rustling through their hair and putting its tender winds on your heated skin to soothe. A fresh bouquet of flowers at your bedside, smelling like the outdoors that you'll no longer get to see, and a plate with apple slices in the yan's lap that they pretend to feed you before acting as if they realize it doesn't work since your mouth is occupied, grinning as they say, "Oopsie!" and proceed to eat the fruit themself. No screaming, crying and arguing about things they yan doesn't even want to remember, just the peace of you two being together and the beeping of the machine's keeping you alive.

It's the type of peace the yan could seriously get used to, but despite breaking so many bones, they know they won't be able to keep you here forever. At some point, you will regain control over your broken body. It's not a question of if. It's a question of what comes first: motor function or your voice. Then, the struggle will resume, and this time, more people will be involved than just the few annoying 'friends' the yan had to get rid of after taking care of you. They were too intrusive and accusatory. They thought they knew better than the yan, so they had to teach your friends a lesson they'd remember forever.

Before the yan leaves, they always pull your hand to their lips, kissing it as they promise you their undying love and devotion, in sickness and health, till death do you part. All while they eye the plugs supplying your machines with electricity before forcing their gaze back to you. Even battered and bruised, you are a sight for their sore eyes, and there's nothing they'd rather look at than you, knowing that if you were gone, they'd wither away like a plant without their sun. There is nowhere the yan wouldn't follow you, even beyond the mortal bounds. If you're not on this earth anymore, they will have no reason to remain either. But until then, the yan will gaze upon you for as long as possible, poison their thoughts further as they fill their mind with the sight of you.

Because if they can't have you, no one can.

Even if it kills you both.

#yandere talk #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

483 notes · View notes

wickjump · 15 days

Text

hey gang, ive kinda had like the worst week of 2024 so far (would say of all time but in 2023 my cat died which tops this). anyway yeah sorry for rarely posting except from posting old drafts that i pretend are new and reblogging whenever i scroll mindlessly to distract myself. haven’t been able to pay as much attention to things as ive liked!!!! some shitty things have happened both to me and the people i care about so ive been trying to focus mostly on that rather than not. that’s life, c’est la vie.

hopefully things should clear up within a few days, but given i promised id be more active like twice before now i have no clue how true that one is. been going through a rough time and not dealing with it in the best of ways and i dunno how long it’ll take to get out of this one fellas. i might post some more cleaned up drafts but it’s hard to focus on a lot of things since anxiety is kicking my ass right now. with any luck ill bounce back sooner than expected though, or at least be more consistent with things. i tried to be more active yesterday but then A Really Bad Thing kinda caught me off guard and im doing a bit worse for wear at the moment. but ill be dandy and will get back soon enough, no longer than like two weeks if things go well!!!!

i also haven’t checked notifs just at all unless im actively expecting a response so if anyone @‘d me or anything of the sort i. did not see it. or any other important reblog. i get hundreds of notifs each day and normally i read through all the replies and reblogs because i like to see your thoughts!! but i haven’t done that much lately either. if something is seriously important, dm me and itll be easier to see it, but i can’t guarantee ill see or respond to it in a timely manner.

OK THATS ALL BYE SORRY 💔

#biggest fear is that one day ill die and people just think im taking an extensive break so if i go dead silent for like two months #please hold a funeral in my honor #ill still be reblogging things a bunch every day so it’s not like im going MIA #just significantly less skip in my wick #(my account on tiktok is wickskip and i couldnt make the joke with wickjump so)#also mixing up personalities right now. jumbling them all up because i tend to mirror things with groups of people #but when they all come together as need be for this situation #i have NO clue what to act like #which maybe reflects here?? i dunno #typing is wack #- fresh sans 2024 #will get my ducks in a row soon enough #mind in order and all that #im especially sorry to my mutuals whose dms ive ignored #ive read them i just can’t conjure up the words to respond in a good enough way #don’t take this as like. ghosting or a silent ‘i hate you’#just me not doing well in the moment #that’s all!!!#sorry chat

36 notes · View notes

dearlymrme · 6 months

Text

Hasty

Rating: E

Pairing: Terzo x Reader

Words: 3220

Tags: Quickie, Creampie, Retirement, Enthusiastic Consent, Objectification.

Summary: In the past Terzo would hunt you down before a Council meeting in hopes that you would help him work off some energy. Now that he’s retired and the roles are reversed he is more than happy to return the favor.

Read on AO3, or under the cut:

Your relationship with Terzo is a sexually healthy one, even before his retirement. He often cornered you in the halls, the bedroom, the library, even the confessional once, for a quickie before he had to settle with the Council for meetings. Meetings that could go on for hours at a time, listening to old traditionalists argue about how to better settle a matter that's already been settled five meetings ago.

Old men, pompous and entitled with little regard for how the world works today and would much rather argue on how it used to be done. Outdated, needing the cobwebs swept up and definitely needing some new blood. He believes half of them to be on dementia medication. It’s probably this line of thinking that got him dragged off stage in the first place. Not too much of a surprise but rather an eventuality, he's heard horror stories from Primo and Secondo, and lived it himself since being a boy. Their callousness and disinterest in how they uproot lives and-

But that's neither here nor there.

He's learned since his Cardinal days that a quick fuck, be it with you or into the comfort of his own hand, always turns his brain into a pleasantly flavored jelly after. It makes the meetings more bearable. An orgasm strong and satisfying enough that all their pedantic droning does is jiggle his gray matter to the point it tickles. It distracts him with forging a game plan of how better to repay your kindness once he’s freed, or to find you later for an even more spine tingling fuck.

After his forced retirement though it seems the rolls are reversed. Instead, as both his wife and prime mover, you've decided to saddle the paperwork transitions from III to IV. It's work truly meant for him and he’s told you that he is more than, if not begrudgingly, capable of doing it himself.

You shushed him, pushed a cup of coffee brewed just the way he likes into his hands, and told him that you’d handle it. You explained that you were more than a little bit pissed that they so forcefully removed him, making such a public show of it, and then tried to dog him after with more work as if to say that it’s his mess to take care of in the first place.

You were enraged that the Council even assumed that he would continue performing any kind of duty on their behalf after they axed him. No, they instead made a mockery of him and everything he did for them. You are not going to stand for their hounding. You felt it wrong that they still tried to push paperwork Primo’s way after retirement, you weren’t going to let them do it to Terzo.

“You deserve a break. You were one of the hardest working Papa’s of the Ministry. I know the fans seem to think you’re the player but we both know the truth.” You gently kissed him, his lips, his nose, his forehead. “You let me handle everything and just enjoy sleeping in for once.”

You've been called and pulled from every which way to organize the schedules and new duties for his remaining Cardinals as the rest turned their loyalties from him to Copia. Not all of them favored the new Papa and many of them wished instead to retire. Copia was kind enough to keep the ones who agreed with him and merciful enough to let the others go with no fuss. You wrote up the forms and all that was required of him now was a single last stamp of approval. He was happy for them. A lot of hard workers in his group and he saw a few familiar names on the sheets that made his job easier. He hopes they enjoy their new titles of Archbishop and complimentary responsibilities.

The Bishops, the Deacons, followed lastly by the Sisters and Sons of Sin. Every new hole left behind from the Cardinal’s they lost needed to be filled and formatted. Promotions for everyone. Seeing who’s qualified, who’s been in the church long enough, and most importantly who actually wants the job? Turns out, not a lot of them living in the Ministry itself did. After the showcase with Terzo being removed a lot of people now felt threatened and that gave you a little more work as they sent notes and mail of condolences and concerns.

He feels like everyone was taking advantage of you, himself included. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth but you took to the work like a fish to water. Afterall, you were his secretary before you both became physical. That fact alone better adds a spoonful of sugar to the bitter medicine.

The fact that he knows you're more like a shark than a fish, helps the flavor too. He knows you're making this as much of Copia’s problem as your own. He’s told you to go easy on the man but he also knows not to bait the water with more blood.

Now he has time to settle into the new role as husband. Despite your jab of sleeping in, he’s getting up earlier than you now. He makes breakfast, breaking out a cookbook that smells of bittersweet memories that calls back his boyhood to him. Not much has changed since growing up. Still loved by a woman not afraid to bare her teeth at those who would try to bully him. The whole wing starts to smell of his childhood and sentimentality. Early morning cartoons beat your own alarm clock as by the time he turns on the TV, breakfast is ready.

He’s already sitting on the couch, plate in hand and coffee made. A smile on his face and giggles as you sluggishly stumble and try your best to give him your most appreciative good morning kiss, often missing. You’d watch TV for at least thirty minutes and you’d be ready and leaving before the hour is up. You’d be back for lunch at roughly the same time every day, which he will have ready and warm and almost always something new. After work you’d come back from a meeting and he can almost always expect you to pin him to the nearest wall and attack his mouth like it’s been calling you names behind your back, a bit of opposites; you preferred after the meetings than before. You tell him it’s to make you more optimistic and alarmingly sweet when the old crones droll on. They have no idea what’s waiting for you at home, but you do, and you keep it close like a little secret. You’re near giddy when they seem confused as to how you can stay so happy during the hours-long conference.

He knows exactly what you're talking about. You do it with him too when there is the seldom argument. He dubs it: Hostile Friendliness.

As for what he does in his down time, he’s picked up his old hobbies. Primo has his multitude of plants to tend and the gardens. Secondo has his venture card and a long bucket list of places to go. Terzo himself likes reading and losing his mind in another world of words. Daring fantasies, fighting dragons, befriending monsters.

You’d told him the work is only temporary, that it’ll be done and over soon and then you could enjoy the retired life together but for now, that was the schedule he could expect until it was over.

So, when that schedule is thrown off even by the tiniest of pause, it’s very noticeable.

He glances at the time on his phone, idly browsing for new titles on the couch as you ready to leave. Breakfast is already done and put away. He raises a brow at the half hour mark and you still haven’t left yet.

“Don’t you have a meeting today?” He asks, knowing you can hear him through the open door of the bedroom. It's more of a concerned statement. He knows you do, he also knows that your anxiety for being punctual would usually have you already out of the door by now. That by itself should have had him braced for what you were about to do next.

You appear at the bedroom door, wearing a lovely blue sundress that is just long enough to be considered modest with brown flats. Your makeup is flawless and armed like a knife for whoever tries to talk down your decisions. The dress code for the Ministry is lax unless times of Ritual. But the Council expects professionalism during meetings but that’s exactly what you radiate. He can smell your usual perfume and your hair is already styled for the day.

“Yes.” You huff and take long, promising to the point of threatening, steps towards him.

There is that look in your eyes; viciously hungry, like a starved animal eyeing its prey. He sees your muscles coiled with purpose and itching to spring. The air is suddenly charged, tastes of promise and the sirens of an approaching storm ring in his mind. His body hums with the change of energy, his own instincts telling him that a challenger approaches.

“Take off your pants.” You command, like a boom of retribution, already halfway across the room and by that point his phone is already somewhere else and fingers are playing pestissimo with his belt buckle.

The demand sets off a Rube Goldberg machine in his body, nearly prophesied timing that would kill a weaker man. His blood suddenly ran hot and hellwards, cock already hardening by the split two seconds it takes before he's able to undo his pants, just in time for you to slide into his lap and ensnare his lips into a bruising kiss.

He grasps and clutches at your body like you're his anchor and he's the ship at sea. The storm is already settled upon him, tumultuous waters stirring as you roughly kiss and suck on his tongue. A thrilling amount of teeth nibbles his lip and pulls, ensuring him in a sweet stockholm trap. Were it not for his grip on you his vessel would have already capsized. Rowing and rocking against your insistent hips as they clash against his. He pulls his cocks free from his briefs, you have your underwear parted in less than a second.

“Sit on it.” He pleads, already bleeding for you. Already splitting himself open from sternum to throat and begging for you to feast. “Sit on me. Please, use me.”

You have him. You can have him. He's already yours.

You line up, the lip of your cunt spreads around his shift and it’s more than just the penetration that knocks the breath out of him.

“Soaked!” He laughs, nearly hysterical on the discovery as though he had just found a treasure lost to history. He glides right in as you sink like a rock. It’s a key fitted in place. A cog knocked loose and the gears resumed turning. How long have you suffered? How long did you go this morning without a balm for this need? You need not a moment more before you are slicing your hips, rowing through your own treacherous currents. .

He shakes nearly like an addict, scratching at your thighs for that good fix only you can give him, only he can give you. He pleads, rucking up the fabric of your dress, gliding his hungry hands over your favorite places and basks in the softness of your heated skin. As you take from him he drags tender and sultry kisses up your throat and jaw. You arch your back, grasping at his knees for balance. He watches you with his solar eclipse gaze, memorizing the near blissful and self satisfied expression you wear with pride.

“Yess.” Follow your snake like hiss. Your walls flutter around him, persistently squeezing as if to perfect a mold. He damn near chokes from the feedback of your relief. A devilish itch being scratched with every roll of your hips that has you both purring.

His back shudders as his love turns near revenant in glee. The heat of your core shooting bullets of pleasure through his gut and stirring his insides to knots. He swoops down to track his lips across your neckline and digs in his hands when you run one of your own through his hair, cradling him close before fastening to his shoulder, pushing him back into the cushions before you start a pattern of rocking and grinding.

A breathless and bubbly laugh escapes his mouth as he seeks a hand to the flat of your back to press against him. He slams his hips up and aims directly for your weak spot, like breaking stone with a chisel. The scream that escapes you is loud enough to threaten anyone outside the hallway. But with retirement, damned if he has to keep appearances anymore. The following glee that he can be as loud as he wants makes his cheeks apple a smile.

His body vibrates like a tuning fork, synchronizing all that is him together. Warm and gooey between his joints that melt into his veins and smother his insides in honey. You demand of him; push and pull on him, putting him exactly where you want and how you want. You command for kisses and bites that he savagely provides with no argument. The satisfaction of your praises, your want for more, faster, harder, and flittering kisses as reward. No, he’s not taking orders from the Council anymore. Now, he can worship his one and only matron.

So lost in the righteousness of giving you everything you want, it sneaked up on him. That spring threatens to bounce as it coils tightly in his stomach. There is a zip in his toes that starts to travel up his legs and settle in his core. He’s not long for the world.

“Use me, cara. Get off on me! Use me. Useme!” It's like sin in his veins. Euphoria as you take everything you need from him. Your personal fuck machine to use however you want. All you need to do is tell him how high to jump and he’ll double it. The hold you have on him, invisible strings tangled on your fingertips and him the marionette. He dances to your tune perfectly, wanting nothing more than to put on the best show possible.

He’s already to the point of babbling. Heat melting his core and his balls tightening. He pants, air coming in thin. He watches you, lost in the vision of your unadulterated beauty that would make every tapestry in the Ministry blush.

Your face is one to remember; eyes pinched and brows furrowed. Your pupils have long since devoured the color of your eyes. Your mouth is open, baring your teeth threateningly to the orgasm running to escape you as your gaining ground.

“Your’s! You use me any way you want!” He’s high on the skin contact, as little there is with your thick and strong thighs pinning his own. He’s experiencing sainthood through your body. This is His Lord at work. As close as he can get to divinity by being yours and wholly yours. Your growl, feral, like a beast as you tear into his flesh and rip him apart. He is a feast for your mouth.

One of his hands left your hips to fist at the sofa, like it had a mind of its own. A stupid self preservation instinct kicking in to try and keep him grounded. He rerouted, grabbing his since gone wild hair and pulling, the pinch meant to stave off his orgasm but the pain had the opposite effect, egging him on closer and closer to the finish line. Tears have already escaped his eyes, leaving tracks down his cheeks, and finding their destination in your cleavage. This is thirsty work and he can only hope you'll give him enough time to drink them up once you're done with him.

He breathed in loud, open-mouthed heaves for air as every cut of your hips felt almost like a stab. His chest rhythmically rises with a hitch and despite his best efforts he feels as though he is suffocating. You grab him by his chin and lean into him, ghosting your lips against his own. He opens his mouth and flicks his tongue, beckoning you to play. You marvel at him, eyes casted in shadow. A statement. A promise. His undoing.

“Mine.”

He jerks, going into near excorcistic bodily spasms as he lifts his hips and fucks as deep into you as he can, nearly hurting his back by pressing his heels into the floor and thrusting. His ass leaves the sofa for a bare second before he collapses and his mind sent into delicious subspace. Even with the satisfaction of coming it still wrecks devastation through his nerves.

But a good husband still provides. He gives and gives before you finally have your fill three more rolls in, your clit having tenderized against his groin with each pass before it slaps at just the right angle and sends you spiraling. You slow, fierce cuts turning into leisurely rolls as you allow your pleasure to carry you like sand in the ocean.

Terzo’s hips still shake, his doglike whine breaks the chorus of heavy breathing and you start to move again. You shift, squirm, and finally remove yourself from his lap. He hiccups as his cock, still throbbing from pleasure slaps his stomach in freedom, a pained ‘oh’ punched from his gut.

It’s both the best moment of his life and near torture as he watches you adjust your underwear back in place and brush down your dress. You lean back over him, he can see the concern in your eyes along with those threatening clouds you brought with you. Quickly, he blows away those clouds rendering them as simple fluffs of dandelions. Reaching up with a trembling hand, he cups at your cheek and gives you a confidence instilling kiss. You sweetly melt into him before breaking away.

His body is heavy and muscles are screaming from sudden exertion as they finally relax, he half expects a cramp later. It’s the best feeling in the world. He glances at your retreating figure as you walk towards the door, leaving him a near husk as you make off with all he has to give. Hair and dress back in place, your thumb wiping at touching up your smeared lipstick, glancing at the nearby mirror. You flash him a bit of teeth as you palm the doorknob and chime a wish you well and he's again stunned by the grace of your beauty.

Then he glances down, giving a pained groan as his poor and abused cock twitches at the sight.

The traces of his cum he can see steadily sliding down the inside of your thighs, the image sheared into his mind as a core memory. The knowledge that you’ll be sitting with the Council with the stains of his release on your panties. Fuel for later today when he knows you'll be back, after all your work is done, to better take your time appreciating him.

He can't wait to be picked apart.

#ghost band #the band ghost #ghost the band #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #reader insert #MDNI #dee writes

86 notes · View notes

nathanbatemanfucker · 7 months

Text

Give Me More

summary: part of life is heartbreak and suffering; at least Javi is worthy of it.

pairing: sex worker!f!reader x javier peña

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, mentions of sex work, pwp, oral (f!receiving), feelings, internal angst, perceived unrequited love

wc: 1,995

an: i woke up one morning with this idea on my mind, my fingers were itching to write, especially since it’s been so long since ive written for javier. might come back to give these two a happy ending, might not. thank you to @jennaispunk for the beta! hope y’all enjoy <3

pedro pascal characters masterlist

Javier is your favorite. It’s hard for him not to be. With him nothing is a performance, every moment— every kiss and touch feels real even if it isn’t. You know that it’s going nowhere, that one of these days he will catch each and every drug lord, trickling down all the way to those hardly involved and then he will leave. But it’s hard not to get caught up in him. It’s hot and electric, there’s passion. There’s real pleasure.

He comes to you. Every single time he comes to you. Maybe that makes it worse, these fantasies in your head where you get to keep him. It’s easier to picture him sipping coffee in your kitchen or lounging on your couch reading a paper. Some things he has done, like sleeping in your bed or taking a shower. Sometimes when you curl up in bed at the end of the night, you let yourself drift into those memories, building on them as you go. It’s unhealthy and unfair to yourself.

But, you’re not sure what alternative you have. Falling in love with Javier Peña was not what you’d expected. You’d never fallen in love with a client before, but that’s Javi for you. Beating the odds and changing the game, one kiss and fleeting glance at a time. How are you meant to resist those chocolate brown eyes, big and expressive? How are you to deny how deep and exploring his kiss feels?

You tried. You really had. As soon as you realized what was happening you pulled away. Stopped answering his calls and started frequenting other places, places you were most likely not to see him. But, Javi’s persistent and DEA— he could find you if he wanted to and he had. Slowly but surely you fell right back into his clutches. Eventually you stopped fighting it. You had to be honest with yourself, the part of you that wanted to is small at best. This will be the only thing you ever have with him and you might as well hold on to it while you can. Part of life is heartbreak and suffering; at least Javi is worthy of it.

He called yesterday, asking if he could come over tonight. Of course you had said yes. Today is one of the only days during the week that you have completely to yourself, but you don’t mind. Being with Javier never feels like work…it isn’t in your mind, not that you’ve ever mentioned that to him.

His knock on the door is crisp and succinct as always, no mistaking him for anyone else. And when you open the door for him, he slips in easily, shutting the door so that he can pin you against it with his soft but insistent kisses. He tastes like bourbon and tobacco, his warm spicy scent invading all of your senses. You kiss him back easily— eagerly, hands rising to card through his soft hair.

God he smells so good. He feels so good. You could live and die here happily.

He’s always needy when he comes to you, but something feels different. Off.

You pull away slightly, running a hand over his cheek so that he opens his eyes to look at you. “Estas bien?”

“Muy bien, querida. So good, now that I’m here,” He murmurs into your mouth.

“Tienes hambre?” You ask, nipping gently at his bottom lip.

“Mhmm,” He hugs, starting a path of kisses down your neck, biting and sucking at your flesh as if to prove his point.

“For food, Javi,” You scold playfully even as you let your head lull to the side, giving him free reign.

“Food can come later. Let me take care of you, baby,” He croons.

That’s all it takes for you to abandon your line of questioning and give into him. You nod, shivering against him when he continues to bite at your skin, humming softly at your taste.

Javier moves with ease through your apartment, like its his. The two of you take a pitstop in the kitchen where he pours a glass of water. He must plan to keep you in bed all night. You have no complaints, not when the focus for once will be on you. Then he’s guiding you to your bedroom, shutting the door softly. He shrugs out of his jacket and boots before returning to you where you stand at the edge of the bed.

“Eres preciosa,” He mutters under his breath, allowing his hands to run all over you.

Sure you picked out your favorite silk sleeping dress, the one that’s reserved for him or high paying clients— though lately, it’s been just for him. He’s seen you in this time and time again. And yet the way he’s looking at you…the way he’s speaking of you has your face hot.

“Stop it, Javi,” You murmur shyly. He’s the only one who can get you like this, easily worked up and bashful. You like it that way.

“I mean it, querida, you’re so beautiful,” He lets his hands move up, trailing over your breasts until one of his hands teases your nipple through the delicate fabric causing your breath to catch. He grins, satisfied with the sound. “So beautiful.”

“Javier, please,” You whine, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

The way you look at him, with wide, desperate eyes. He doesn’t stand a chance. “Alright, let’s get you out of this baby. See how wet you are for me,” He teases as he works you out of the slip dress.

Javier gently pushes you back until you can sit on the edge of the bed, and once you’re settled he drops to his knees, spreading you open so that you’re on full display for him. He lets out a loud, depraved groan, the sound shooting straight to your pussy. You’re so wet for him already, your sex glistening in the soft moonlight that spills through the curtains. He can’t wait to ravish you, to worship you. He’s lucky enough to get you like this and he will show his gratitude one stroke of his tongue at a time. On nights like tonight, Javier likes to pretend just as much as you do. You’re completely his and he’ll speak of you no other way.

“All this for me. All mine, look at you baby. So fucking wet just from my kisses?”

Your head is already spinning, every inch of your skin feels as if it’s on fire and he hasn’t even really touched you yet. You nod softly, spreading your legs a little wider for him, beckoning him in. Who is he to deny you?

Slowly, he kisses his way up your thighs, sucking and biting the way he had on your neck but with more pressure this time. Here he can mark you— it’s likely to go unnoticed. He sucks until a mark blooms on your thigh, the bruise contrasting with your skin. The sight of it has him wanting to rut against the end of the bed. To drop his pants and bury his cock in you until you both find your pleasure. But, this is just for you. He’s here to take care of you, it’s what he likes doing.

His eyes are hooded as they look up at you, watching for your reaction when he blows cool air over your clit. He loves the way you twitch, how your hips buck up ready to feel him. He can tell by the way you bite your lower lip that you’re about to open your mouth and beg— he gives you no time too. Javier leans forward, letting his tongue slide through your folds with no urgency.

It’s the start of bliss for the both of you. His tongue feels like heaven, even with the tentative, patient licks he’s giving you. He’s so warm, sending hot shocks of pleasure throughout your entire body.

Your heady taste in his mouth, Javi can hardly contain his hunger, smiling against you when he remembers that he doesn’t have to. He sinks further into you, nuzzling his nose against your clit, letting his tongue dip into your center.

“Oh, fuck— Javier,” You moan, arching into him, your legs falling open even wider until they can spread no more. You want him to see and devour every inch of you. Your hand raises to card through his hair, and when your gaze meets his, it’s just as heated, just as lustful.

“I know, querida. I know, feels so good doesn’t it, baby?” He murmurs knowingly against you, his tongue flicking your clit between each word.

“Mhmm,” You hum, letting your head fall back as you give in.

Javier takes his time. He winds you up tight with attentive licks to your clit before giving you a break, letting his tongue grow messy and lax with no direction. He’s teasing you, you both know that, but this you don’t mind. It’s not to be unkind, not to deprive you of anything but to draw out the limited time you two get to spend together like this.

Javi wants to be here with you as badly as you want to be here with him. The difference between you is that he doesn’t let himself dream.

This is what it is. This is what it will be. He’s accepted that.

“Javi,” You breathe, after the pleasure swells up inside you for a third time, only to be deflated.

Javi looks up at you, raising a hand to cup your jaw and bring your gaze to his. His stare is so intense, eyes so dark that they’re nearly black with desire. “You ready for it? You want me to make you cum? Just tell me.”

“Yeah, I’m ready. Please, Javi.”

“I’ll make you cum, baby, don’t worry. Relax, lay back. Let me take care of you,” He repeats his words from earlier.

As soon as you oblige, laying your back flat against the bed, Javier’s on the hunt for your orgasm, like predator chases prey. While his mouth focuses on your clit, suckling and flicking, he presses two of his fingers deep into your pussy, taking no time to find that sensitive spot. Despite the intentionality of his movements, he is gentle while coaxing your pleasure out of you. It’s erotic and sweet, it makes your heart ache. You fall over the edge in no time at all and Javier drinks endlessly, lapping up all of your slick with happy little moans.

You relax further into the mattress, your chest rising and falling harshly as you ride out your release. He’s moved away from your overstimulated center, kissing at your thighs and tummy while you return to earth.

“More, querida? Quieres más?”

“Yes,” You whisper— to him, to the darkness of the night like it’s some sort of confession. Javi doesn’t understand the double meaning, and you wouldn’t want him to, not when you know how it’ll end.

Yes, you want more. You want all of him, every day for the rest of your days. You want his declarations about being his to be true. You want him to be yours. Instead of voicing any of your internal turmoil, you sit up, cupping his face in your hands as you bend to kiss him for a taste of yourself on his tongue. He hums into your mouth, smiling against your lips as he rises carefully to his feet.

You make quick work of the buttons on his shirt as his hands take care of his belt and the zipper of his jeans, his boxers. Once bared to you, Javier slots himself between your thighs, thrusting so his cock glides teasingly through your folds.

You feel the head of his cock nudging at where you need him most. Pulling back to look him intensely in the eyes, you whisper, “Dame más.”

Yes, you want more, but you’ll take whatever he can give you.

javi taglist: @lesbianhotch, @bubblybubbubs, @sheresh0y, @jxvipike, @campingwiththecharmings

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #not sfw #arson writes

119 notes · View notes

cryptidclaw · 9 months

Note

hi ..! sorry to um bother you but you made a map of your clans territories a few days ago its reallyyy cute your art is so nice by the way <- not flattery just saying things. well you drew the map in a really clear Easy to Understand way and i was wondering if you had any tips on that ? ive always struggled trying to think of how the territories can fit together yknow its hard for me to visualize exactly how they all work ..

I can try to give some advice tho this was the first time I tried drawing a map so it was really just trial and error heh 😅

Layout wise:

It took me VERY long to figure out how I wanted the territories to fit together. What I did was make a rectangle frame and then I sketched a lot of different ideas of the border lines and layouts for a while to figure things out!

The main things I thought about were: which clans need to border eachother for the plot? Ex: i needed Roar, Sing, and Growl to border Whisper! I then planned around that! I also thought about the clan's relationships to eachother and to the land, like I knew I wanted Singing to be friends with Weeping do I put them next to eachother. And I knew I wanted Singing to center around the river so I placed them so the river went right thru their territory!

It takes a lot if trial and error but I got there eventually!

Style and readability wise:

I went through a few different versions of what style I wanted, but I settled on it being more representative rather than super size accurate. I think this helped with giving it some whimsy while also making is easier to read!

For example: I made the mountain really tall and pointed, would that actually make since size wise? Probably not, but it helps show the viewer the vibes of the territory and the difference between it and the other clans' territories!

I also used a lot of simplified items , like the trees are all one blob shape with little sticks on the bottom, this was so the map wasn't too busy and you could see the basic shape of where the forests were.

I also left out small things like extra little shrubs or trees to keep things less busy as well, like there are probably a few more plants in Whisper, Roar, Growl and Echo territory but I left it more flat and plain so things stayed simple and easy to read!

I also used the different color pallets of each clan to color each of the territories, which helped in keeping each separate and showing where each clan border is! Not very realistic but who cares it helps with labeling!

Idk if any of this is helpful, but this is what I got hehe

#cryptid answers #this ended up long lol #Whisperingclan #advice #warrior cats #warriors

77 notes · View notes

xdjville · 8 months

Text

wayv as not-so-common romance tropes - hendery

description: on a thursday afternoon you get assigned to a patient who's undeniably very good looking, but, as it turns out, not that good at skateboarding

pairing: patient!hendery x gn!nurse!reader

cw: descriptions of being hospitalised (nothing too serious) and needles (iv), one curse word at the end

word count: ~1,660

author's note: the second part is out!! enjoy hendery being down bad (i promise not everyone in this series will be a complete loser). just a psa to anyone that knows sth about nursing - i don't, so even though i tried to do some research i have no idea if this is accurate, forgive me if it's not (i've also never been to the er with a physical injury so i really don't know what it looks like) 🙏

"room two-o-six, an accident on a skateboard,"

thursday, a quarter past two in the afternoon, about an hour and a half into your shift. you had already made a round around the unit to check up on some of the patients and went through a chunk of paperwork that was starting to pile up on your desk, when you got called in to take care of a newly arrived patient.

"wong guanheng. male, twenty four years old, crashed while doing tricks," the head nurse explained briefly, pushing up her thin framed glasses as she looked on the paper in her hands. "probably just a sprained ankle and some nasty bruises, he should be out by the end of the day." after adding some final details, she finished, sending a quick glance and an encouraging smile your way before twirling around unceremoniously to continue her own duties.

you followed suit, making your way to the nearby room two-o-six. you scanned the inside as you entered in an attempt to find the man you were supposed to take care of, which turned out to be an easier task than you had expected. among all of the patients who were placed in that room, there was only one person around your age, and only one person with their hair in the color of bubblegum. it was probably safe to assume you had found your target.

wong guanheng, as the head nurse told you, was sitting on his bed with one leg - the injured one, you guessed - stretched out, bedsheets folded and placed underneath for support. he was leaning back on the elevated backrest, eyes focused on whatever he was watching on his phone that he propped against his healthy leg, bent in the knee.

although you wouldn't dare to admit it out loud, it was hard to look past the fact that he was a very attractive person. in fact, he was so attractive that, for the first time since your rookie days, you felt your insides tighten and tie themselves into a knot from nervousness. but you were nothing if not a professional - you reminded yourself of the mantra you said every time something made you feel the opposite way, as you cleared your throat and approached the patient.

the said man looked up from his phone when you were a few feet away from him, and as cliché as it might sound, he swore that for the next few, very long seconds, everything was happening in slow motion. you began by introducing yourself as friendly as you could - something you did to every patient to make their experience of being in the hospital at least a bit more comfortable. silence fell between the two of you as guanheng tried to overcome the sudden dryness in his throat, before finally murmuring a barely audible "hi", and shutting off the phone in his hands that he just realised was still playing the video he had been watching.

you smiled politely in response and proceeded to ask a few basic questions to get a hold of his current state. his answers to each of them were short and quiet, they gave you all the information you needed to move on, but nothing above that. although you had to fill in some blanks yourself because of his mumbling, you managed to grasp that he fell from a ramp in a skatepark and was in mild pain (he said it didn't hurt, but you noticed the way he winced while trying to reposition himself on the bed).

guanheng's eyes followed your every move as you made your way to the iv stand next to him to prepare some painkillers. "must have been a tough one, huh?" you spoke up again in an attempt to ease his tension a bit as you opened the packaged needles and drug bottles. he didn't respond, appearing slightly puzzled, so you continued. "that skateboard trick you were doing. must have been a tough one to get you here."

his mouth formed into an 'o' shape, before quickly transforming into a thin line as he looked down to his hands in embarrassment.

"yeah, i tried... i was learning a new one," he stumbled on his words, trying to come up with something - preferably a full sentence this time - that wouldn't make him seem pathetic.

"i'm usually really good at this..."

if guanheng didn't feel stupid before, then after your chuckle and the disbelieving glance you sent his way, he certainly would.

done with the preparations, you informed him that you were going to insert the iv with painkillers, to which he didn't protest, fully aware that nothing sensible would come out of his mouth at that moment. and although that saved him some embarrassment, he knew you noticed the way he flinched at your touch when you took his hand to sanitise the area.

with that thought, he lowered his head to hide behind his bright colored bangs, face stained deep red from the nose to the tips of his ears. the warmth on his skin was so intense and overbearing that he didn't even feel the needle piercing through the skin of his palm, nor did he acknowledge the fact that it had been a good minute since you finished, and you were staring at him, amused.

"press that button if you need anything," you finally said, partially because you wanted to give him a break and let him actually rest, and partially because you knew you had to go on to your next errands. "you shouldn't walk untill you get a brace, so if you need to go somewhere just let me know."

having said that, you turned around on your heel, leaving guanheng in shambles, alone with his flushed face and rambling thoughts.

he was hopeless.

almost the whole day passed just like that. you met him another few times, either because he had called (though the first time it took him an hour of contemplating the pros and cons of going to the bathroom on his own and risking making his injury worse), or because you had to take him to the examination room to run some tests. every time, you would try to intiate a casual conversation, and at first he would reply with single words or nods of his head.

you caught on what was happening rather quickly - you weren't that oblivious. you saw him talk to the doctors without stuttering or his face turning all red, so you knew he felt the same clasp in his stomach at the sight of you that he made you experience. but in your head, it just didn't seem right to ask a patient out. and even though you were glad someone like him had interest in you, your ego getting a boost from seeing him getting shy at anything you say, you couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of anxiety that, although you thought the probability was small, your instincts might turn out to be completely wrong. you would simply never recover from the shame if any of the other nurses, let alone the head nurse, found out.

but as he seemed to get a bit more relaxed after a few times you came to check up on him, his scarce responses slowly turned into whole sences, untill he would not only engage in the conversations, but even start them.

"just so you know, i lied," he said one time, turning his head as much as he could to look at you as you pushed his temporary wheelchair from behind. you answered by shooting him a questioning glance and waited for him to clarify, "about the skateboarding thing, i'm not that good at it."

you giggled, stopping the mobility aid near the door to the doctor's office you had been heading to. you turned to face him, arms crossed at your chest, smile never leaving your face.

"yeah, i figured."

near nine thirty in the evening, guanheng was finally being discharged. all his tests came out good, the head nurse's prediction about a sprained ankle being correct. he had a brace put on, so he was standing on his own in front of you in the hallway as you were handing him the documents and intructions for a fast recovery.

"that's all, i hope you get well soon." you said, butterflies erupting in your stomach once again because of how close you were. you didn't let the small smile on your face disappear when you cursed them out in your head. the man thanked you, nodding his head as he briefly scanned the papers. you found yourself in silence - just like during your first meeting earlier that day, albeit nearly not as awkward. his eyes flickered between the prescriptions and your face before he sighed,

"it might be a weird thing to ask but..." he breathed out while his fingers played with the corner of the plastic sleeve that you had put the documents in, "would you mind giving me your number? you... you seem really nice and, like, i know it's technically your job and uh- wait, there's no, like, policy against it, is there?"

your couldn't stop your smile from growing even bigger as he hurried and stumbled on his words, his ears gaining the familiar, dark shade, that you had already seen several times that day.

fuck being professional, you thought, reaching for the pen you kept in the pocket of your uniform while looking around to see if anyone was paying attention, before taking the papers back into your hands. you quickly scribbled your phone number onto the backside of the top sheet, and passed them to him once again.

"nope, not that i know about."

and with that, guanheng left the hospital while clutching the records to his chest, grateful that he never got himself to practice skateboarding more often.

©xdjville

#nct imagines #nct reactions #wayv imagines #hendery imagines #hendery reactions #hendery fic #wayv fic #nct fic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop fic

58 notes · View notes

aidlyncanon · 2 months

Text

this is my first actual tumblr post since idk what to do but ive had this idea in my head for a while and I wanted to share 🤗

so heres what I think each sbg characters love languages are. I wanted to include both the love language they express towards other and the type that resonates? with them when expressed by others. i dont know how to word that but I hope itll make sense 🙏

if it's inaccurate im sorry im not great at wording but i did try and make it at least a bit accurate which is hard when im unsure to most of these

𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐋𝐘𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑: 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄/𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄?

— I feel like this may be the only one that properly fits Ashlyn. I could see her maybe also liking acts of service but i cant exactly explain why.

Maybe its because I think its also what she would do for others that I think it would fit. Like I said maybe acts of service like people doing little things to make her life easier.

I have a headcanon that Taylor or Ben has things in their bags for the others (total mom friends) so imagine her shock when she found out someone had ear plugs in their bag incase she needed them?

you get where im going with this?

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

— I take little to no criticism on this. I can't imagine Ashlyn's being anything else. If she tried getting a gift she'd probably take too long wondering if theyd actually use it. Physical touch is a meh, she doesnt hate it but it wouldnt be her favourite. She said herself she isnt the best with words.

Her gift to people is just her presence. She'd be the type to occasionally need quiet but wouldn't mind being in comfortable silence with someone she likes. I feel like quality time would be her way of showing she cares for someone.

𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌: ???

— This is an idk because im basing these off of what we know about their background and character but we know like nothing so everything about this is based off of pure theory.

The only canon part i can mention is that during his conversation with Ashlyn at the school he mentioned how since he moved around a lot he never really had a true bond with anyone.

"You seemed like the type to only get close with people who mean something to you."

So Aiden didnt just want someone he could feel attached to, he also wanted to feel cared for. Its a two way street with him.

While I could see him loving physical touch as I doubt he got enough of that as a child and he clearly loves being touchy with people I feel like with what we know I could argue really any love language. He'd probably take anything if it makes him feel cared for.

I found a picture of a chart saying "your love language may show what you lacked as a child" and he checked every box so he's fucked.

I ultimately want to settle with physical touch as he seemed shocked when Ashlyn initiated the hug likely due to being the one to always initiate them. Like above he probably just wants his efforts reciprocated.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

— Self explanatory we see him being touchy with Ashlyn. He also put his hand on Tyler (idk if this is still fast pass if it is my apologies).

"he did that as a stay away from my girl" stfu. 🤗

𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— I take ZERO criticism on this.

Were all aware how bad his bullying was so I doubt he heard anything nice about him.

The main thing that makes me believe this is that every time he gets complimented or something nice said about him he gets sort of flustered and blushes.

This ^ was ben after Ashlyn complimented his bandaging job. A small compliment I know but even after what taylor said about him opening up he blushed there too.

You can't deny it means a lot to him he probably thought about those for a while.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

— I talked about this in a discord server briefly but I want to share it here. You know the quote "the quieter you are the more you hear"? Well thinking of that ive come up w the idea that Ben likely is more observant compared to most people.

Hed be the one to notice if someone was looking at something for a while in a store or hear it pass in conversation. Make a mental or physical note of it and get it for them.

I just imagine him being the type to be like "i know you like this" or "this reminded me of you". I feel like he wouldnt be the greatest at expressing it in many other ways so he resorts to getting people things.

Hes also pretty artsy so I can also just imagine him making people little things for them.

Like, tyler taught him guitar? gets tyler a new pick. Logan looking at something in the store? need to remember that. and so on

𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Similar to Ben's. I could maybe see quality time being important to him as he hasnt had many people want to stick around him.

I mean his parents didnt want him and barrons group are just assholes so spending time with someone who genuinely cares for him? Doing an activity he enjoys? Hes over the moon.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

— I can see him wanting to help people, i mean he helped Noah (the guy who barron replaced him with). I can imagine him doing little things for the group and people he loves.

He might get a bit embarrassed if confronted about it but ultimately hed do it again.

𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑: 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄???

— This is up in the air but I feel like it fit her the best? I imagine after her dad dying at a young age she grew up knowing that time with people is limited and can end at any moment.

So i can imagine her really appreciating someone spending one-on-one of just personal time with her. But i can also just see her appreciating any type.

My thing is I can imagine her being happy with receiving anything as long as someone had her best interest at heart then she'd become the happiest girl ever.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Another give in, she does it ALL THE TIME. Its literally her defining feature. Shes very good with words and likes making others feel better about themselves. Seeing people perk up from her words would be enough to make her own day better.

I imagine she too, like tyler, had to be there for her mom a lot. So she probably learnt it from that experience. I also imagine her want to make people happier stemmed from seeing Tyler slowly lose interest in everything around him and wanting to be able to be the person who could make his day just a bit better.

Though like above I could see taylor doing things she knows mean the most of others. Like the moment she realized Ben likes words of affirmations she made sure to compliment him a bit more. After realizing Ashlyn likes quality time she would find a way to do that while also not overwhelming Ashlyn, say a movie or just going on a walk. Shed make an effort to make people happy based off of what they love the most.

𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

— Tyler spent his entire childhood taking care of people so imagine how he would react to being taken care of for once.

I figure like at first hed be a bit reluctant however I think ultimately it would mean a lot to him to not have to always be rhe one taking care of others but being able to rest for once.

Like idk how to word it but I think it fits him, I could also see MAYBE words of affirmation? since he did want that when Logan Ashlyn and Ben found him but then again I dont blame him he was literally sitting bleeding.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄?

— This one has a question mark since im not sure. Taking care of others has just became nature to him, its his factory settings. Its not something he like goes and does to get people interested its just natural to him.

I dont think its something he'd do specifically to express care, he'd likely be unaware how much it could mean to someone since its just life to him.

Im not too sure what his would actually be MAYBE quality time again similar to Taylors in the sense that he knows just how fast someone can lose their lives so he likely would appreciate someone wanting to actually spend time with him.

Even if he wouldnt admit it.

If these are inaccurate then I apologize I did try to make them as accurate as I could but wording my thoughts isnt something i'm great at.

Most of these im unsure of but I wanted to talk about anyway so idk gimme ur opinions on them id love to hear them esp since im unsure for half of these :)

#school bus graveyard #sbg #sbg (webtoon)#aiden clark #aiden sbg #ben clark #ben sbg #ashlyn banner #ashlyn sbg #taylor hernandez #taylor sbg #tyler hernandez #tyler sbg #logan fields #logan sbg #love langauges

37 notes · View notes