#need somehow to add something positive to these posts of mine

[aimless-passerby]

Today everything is so laggy, ugh.

Wanted to make smth for furaffinity in one go, but overestimated my abilities.

And I couldn't find a mythological creature that would live in wells, so for this idea it's just an early stage of Gollum-ifiction.

[marvelouslizzie]

unconventional methods - chapter 1

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a big problem: he is too anxious to date and too old school to enjoy porn. But he needs some kind of relief, and he needs it right now.

After getting an accidental boner during a mission, Natasha suggests him an application that seems to be exactly what he needs.

Will your content solve the problem for him? Or will it create new problems?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator Reader)

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, sex deprivation, adult content creation, sexy lingerie, sexy photos and videos, male masturbation, self-doubt, overthinking, flirting, sexting, sending explicit content to each other, pet names, mutual masturbation, jealousy, feeling possessive (nothing toxic), hiding the real identity, no mention of y/n.

A/N: This was such a random idea but as I started to think about it, more details came to me. After a point, it became impossible not to write.

In this story, Bunny is the reader but we view most of the story from Bucky’s side so there’s no use of you during the story. We don’t know what the reader is up to, how she feels about stuff. Only as much as Bucky knows or sees. That’s why the reader is mentioned as she mostly.

>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.

This story is not exactly how it seems but I don’t want to spoil it by revealing things too soon. Just stick around, if you wanna know how things will turn out to be.

Again, a big thank you to @notafunkiller for helping me every step of the way. She helped me the moment I felt stuck or something felt off, beta read the whole story and turned this into a readable piece. Thanking her won’t be enough. I would literally add her as a co-writer if that was possible on Tumblr.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me as long as it’s not a hate comment. They are never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he should do this. He looked at the paper Natasha handed him and then back at the screen again. The internet browser was open for a while, but he couldn’t decide what to do. It felt weird to be in this position. It didn’t feel right… but why was it wrong again? She was sharing her own content: whatever she was comfortable with. They were all there for people to see if they wanted to, right? He took a deep breath, started to type the link Natasha wrote down for him, and pushed enter quickly before he changed his mind.

The page loaded quickly, but all he could see was her profile picture and the header. There was a huge subscribe button and under it, he could see how many posts she had, different subscription options, etc. He scrolled back up to look at her photos. They were not clickable, but her profile picture was her in blue lingerie and cute bunny ears, which made him smile for a second. Then he looked at the header. She was on all fours, staring directly into the camera. It was a different look. Not that “I’m trying to look sexy” look that usually turned him off when it came to porn. It felt genuine somehow. How genuine it could be under these circumstances…

He looked at her profile picture for a while, thinking what could go wrong? A lot of people were doing this, weren't they? Some people were making money, some were paying for it. It wasn't that different from buying a dirty magazine. No, actually this was better because she had all the creative control over her own content. She was the one putting it out there. If that was not consent, then what was? He quickly created an account for himself, using a new email account like Natasha suggested. He didn’t need anyone to find out about this.

The next part felt like falling into a rabbit hole because dear god… She looked gorgeous! She had some free content that didn’t show much. Different poses in different lingerie. The photos were serving their purpose, making you want to subscribe and see more… of her. So he kept looking for a while.

There was something about her that made her so much more attractive, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He clicked next, looking at her pic in front of the mirror, with her legs wide open, but not actually showing anything. The slight smile on her face was warm and inviting. He knew he had no other option than to subscribe and see all of her content. He needed to see more.

The process didn't take long. After unlocking the special content, he just stared at the screen. How can she be real? He palmed his face, feeling nervous like he was on a first date with this attractive woman. He knew he wasn't. She was way out of his league, but he still felt nervous and intrigued while checking out all the content. There were so many different options and he didn’t know where to start.

At first, he decided to go slow and just check a couple of nude photos. The pics were in order, showing her getting rid of one piece of clothing with each new shot. It started with her fully dressed, looking super sexy: short skirt, modest cleavage, looking all cute. First, the skirt was gone, then her top, and she was left standing in her pastel pink lingerie that covered her chest completely, but it was lacy and see-through. It was fitting her like it was custom-made. He couldn’t stop himself and kept swiping, finding different concepts. His cock was pressed against his pants, aching for attention as he was unable to look away.

After spending god knows how long on her profile, Bucky finally couldn’t take it anymore. This was the point of all this, wasn’t it? Creating the need at the right time to please himself, so he wouldn’t get random erections during the missions… He unzipped himself and finally freed his cock. Still, his hands didn’t go there directly. He kept looking at her profile, discovering other features: like videos she uploaded while getting off!

“Dear god…” He gulped after seeing the thumbnail. She had a dildo in her hand. There was no way he was not going to click on this. No way!

He watched her taking her sweet time, teasing herself and, of course, the viewers, then getting really wet and adding lube on top of it before she pushed the dildo inside. The moan she let out sent a powerful jolt through his whole body. It was so beautiful and felt so fucking authentic, nothing like those fake, unrealistic porn moans. They were always a huge turn-off. This, on the other hand, was too much to handle. His cock was dripping so much precum, begging him for some attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. Either it never happened or it was so long ago, it doesn’t matter anymore.

He finally reached for the lube, poured a generous amount into his flesh hand, and quickly grabbed his cock. 

“Fuck.” It felt so sensitive. Like he had been edged for the last hour. Maybe he had been… after all the content he went through.

His fingers were loose, moving up and down slowly while the most beautiful girl he ever laid eyes on was pleasing herself on the screen. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He wanted to take his sweet time and maybe imagine she was the one doing this to him. That was a nice image: her between his legs, looking up at him with those big eyes while she moved her hand up and down slowly, torturing him, not letting him come until she said so.

His breath shuttered at the thought, his fingers moving faster than before, like they have their own mind. His cock was grateful, but no, he didn’t want to come before the video was done. Somehow it felt like disappointing your date during your first sex.

Luckily, she started to shatter, moaning as she came on the dildo she was riding. And the noises she made immediately sent him over the edge. 

“F-f-fuck,” he slurred as he started to come. It felt good, really good. He lost himself in pleasure and kept stroking until he emptied himself. Until he felt that overstimulation creeping in. That was when he noticed he closed his eyes. When he opened them back up, the video was done and the black screen with a play again button welcomed him. 

Disappointment washed over him. She wasn't there with him. Even if he came before the video was done, she wouldn’t know. There was no one to disappoint. He was alone in his bedroom, jerking off to a computer screen, but in his defense, the girl was hot. Really hot.

He took a deep breath, letting himself enjoy the afterglow. That was the point of all this: enjoying small stuff like satisfaction without going through the tedious process of meeting new people. He reached for the wet wipes and cleaned himself quickly. As he clicked the exit button on the video, he saw another one. It must be old because she looked a bit younger, and her hair was a little lighter. Also, it looked like a short one so he clicked on it.

“Hey. Thank you so much for subscribing.” This was the first time he heard her voice. It was soft and calm. “I know this isn’t conventional, but I enjoy sharing content like this. Don’t judge me if you don’t wanna be judged, okay?” She winked and god, it was adorable. “I'll try to share new content every Wednesday. I hope to see you here. Feel free to message me if you like. Take care.”

If he hadn’t come thirty seconds ago, he would have gotten hard again after hearing her voice. He was glad even the super soldier serum had some limits. Before his body could recover from his intense orgasm, he closed the window and decided to go take a shower.

-------

The next week passed in a blur. There were missions, briefings, and someone’s birthday… He didn’t care whose. It was not someone from the main team, that was all he knew. He was eating his cake in the corner, minding his own business when Natasha sat next to him.

“Hey.” She tried to sound as casual as possible.

“Hey.”

“You look better.”

Bucky looked at her confused.

“Does that supposed to be a compliment, Romanoff?”

“It’s a simple statement, Barnes. It looks like you took my advice and gave yourself a break.” Bucky averted his gaze from her. “No accidental erections during missions, congrats.”

“It was one time, Natasha. One time. When will you let it go?”

“Whenever you tell me about your… experience.”

“My experience?” He looked back at her, with the same confused expression all over again.

“I wanna know if you liked her or not. I don’t need details.”

“Why do you care so much about it? She’s just a random girl.” He lied to her. She wasn’t. At least not to him. He had been checking her account anytime he got a chance. This whole week, he had been masturbating more than he ever did before. Sometimes even the thought of her was turning him on so randomly, he was starting to get worried, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from checking for updates.

She was sharing content very regularly. Sometimes they were new photoshoots, and sometimes just random cute photos in pajamas. He didn’t know which content he was looking forward to the most. All he knew was he loved how genuine it felt she was.

“I’m just noisy. So tell me…”

“Yes, Natasha, I like her. She’s cute and hot, exactly what I was looking for. What do you want, a thank you?”

Bucky really had no idea how Natasha managed to hit the bull's eye when she suggested this girl to him. She was absolutely his type, so he could say thank you for this, but nothing more.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you.” It was Natasha’s turn to feel confused because in all the time they spent together with Barnes, he never once thanked her. This was a first.

“Wow. You really like her.” She sounded proud of herself.

“Hey, Buck!” The moment Bucky heard Sam’s voice, he jumped off the couch. He didn’t want to spend another minute talking about his irrational crush with Natasha. It was pointless.

-------

As the time passed, Bucky felt like he was addicted to her content. He was checking his phone much more often than before, just to see if she shared something. He didn’t notice it until Sam pointed it out and asked if he got a girlfriend or something. He quickly denied that possibility, finding a lame excuse. He wasn’t sure if Sam bought it or not, but he definitely needed to check his phone less often. 

When he came back home, he felt so tired. The whole day was full of meetings and he let himself be consumed by the details just not to think about her. It was Wednesday, which meant new content,  yet he still tried to stay away from his phone. 

He literally consumed every content she ever shared. There was no photo or video on her profile he didn't see. There were some he masturbated to more than once. He just wanted to take a step back and if he could manage this, he would feel less of a creep. The problem was he was home and he had nothing to do.

He tried to distract himself with food at first, and it only worked for 15 minutes. Then he took a shower, which took even less. Watching television didn’t even last more than 5 minutes, so he decided to go to sleep, but his mind kept wandering to her. He wanted to know what she shared and how she looked. Finally, he gave in and opened her profile… to see nothing. Since yesterday she shared literally nothing. That was so unlike her. She shared something every day and she never missed Wednesdays. He didn’t care about the lack of new content. It worried him that he doesn’t know if she was alright. Why wouldn’t she be? Maybe she was busy. He tried to calm himself down but falling asleep was impossible.

Then he made a promise to himself: if she won't share anything by noon the next day, he would message her. That thought calmed him down a little.

-------

The next day, Bucky forgot that he was trying to avoid checking his phone in public. His body was at work, but his mind was stuck on… her. He kept looking at her profile to see something, anything to assure himself you’re alright, but there was literally nothing. Complete silence. When it was finally noon, he had no patience left. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider sending a message, but he was just worried. And it didn’t occur to him that it was not his place to be concerned about this woman. 

He opened her profile and clicked on the direct messages feature. His mind was completely blank. He had no idea what to say, looking at the screen for a couple of seconds as he trying to collect his thoughts.

“Hey.” That’s all he could come up with. How to say you are worried about someone who has no idea you even exist? It was ridiculous, but there was no way he could just wait and do nothing. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I hope you are alright. You have been absent lately. It could be something totally personal, I know that, but you never miss Wednesdays. So I wanted to check in to see if you are fine. I really hope you are.”

He took a deep breath after he pressed send. It was a long shot for sure. He didn’t really expect an answer. Maybe a seen. And that would be more than enough.

-------

An unfamiliar chime got Bucky’s attention. It surely came from his phone, but he never heard that sound before. When he took his phone out and saw the notification, his heart skipped a beat, just for a second. It was a message from her. The nervous feeling spread through his body like poison, sweat pooling on his forehead before he even clicked on it.

>> Hey, handsome. Thank you for checking in. I have been a bit busy and sick at the same time. Not the best combo. Sorry for missing the content day. I will make it up next Wednesday.

Bucky looked at the message, a bit confused. He wasn’t interested when the new content was gonna drop. He just wanted to know if she was okay. Being busy and sick at the same time didn’t look so. Content should have been the last thing she should be worried about.

<< I’m not worried about the content, darling. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

He definitely didn’t expect her to respond this quickly, it didn’t even take a minute.

>> Really? I thought you’d miss me.

She was talking like she knew him personally. Like they have chatted before. It was weird and comforting at the same time.

<< I did miss seeing your cute little face, I’m not gonna lie, but I didn’t message you for that. Content can wait until you feel better.

>> My cute little face is a little bit unpresentable and I appreciate your concern. It’s refreshing to see someone actually cares how I am feeling instead of why I did not share anything lately.

<< I’m sure your cute little face is still the cutest thing on the face of the earth. I wouldn’t worry about being presentable.

>> Get ready for a jumpscare. 

He had no idea what that meant, but the text was followed by a selfie: her, in bed, looking rather exhausted, with a messy bun, cute pajamas, and a cup of tea in her hand. Bucky quickly googled what jumpscare means and came back to the messaging screen.

<< You clearly don’t know what jumpscare means. It would be me, in a dark hallway or an alley. That’s real jumpscare. This is a cute lady who needs a bit of time to recover.

>> First darling, now cute lady. Are you sure you aren’t 60 years old?

<< Why, do you have an age limit?

>> For my content? No. << And for other stuff?

>> The answer is still no, but are you?

<< 60? No. I’m 107.

>> How do you know how to use the app at 107? 

That question made Bucky laugh a little, but he chose to be honest.

<< If I don’t know something I just google it.

>> Shouldn't you be semi-dead at 107?

<< I should be fully dead yet I’m still here.

>> Your profile says 33. Why are you lying handsome?

<< Believe me, my body and soul are older than 33.

>> I kinda believe that because you are talking differently.

<< Is it why you are answering my messages?

>> That and I feel a bit lonely. Your message sounded cute. I usually end the conversation before it gets too far.

<< What’s too far for you?

>> When they start demanding private pictures or try to sext.

Bucky had to google once again what sext means, just to be sure, and it was exactly what he thought it would be.

<< But you sent them to me.

>> Just one picture. A sick selfie and you didn’t ask for it. I thought it would turn you off really badly and you would say take care and end the convo.

<< I still think you look cute.

>> I am starting to believe you might be cute as well.

-------

Bucky had no idea how things got this far with her. After that message, they were literally sending texting each other daily. Just checking in, asking random stuff, or getting to know each other. It was not the same every day. Sometimes it was just a couple of messages and dead silence. Sometimes they communicated all day, non-stop, but Bucky didn’t mind. He didn’t mind not talking to her every day. Knowing that she was okay gave him a bit of peace. Just a good morning or a good night message was enough to ease his anxiety. 

>> Good morning, handsome.

That was the text he woke up to, that made him smile almost all day. Every time he remembered her calling him handsome or taking time to send a message to him, it made him happy. It made him feel different than others. He knew that was not the case. Maybe she kept talking to him because he didn’t make her uncomfortable. Maybe she talked to others too. He had no idea, but whenever he thought about her messaging someone else, he felt a faint pain in his stomach. He knew this feeling was irrational, so he avoidedto think about it as much as possible.

<< Good morning, bunny.

<< Is your favorite color pink? He randomly asked as he had been doing all week. The question came to him because he noticed she wore that color a lot.

>> No, it’s light blue. Why?

<< You wear pink a lot, that’s why I asked.

>> That’s what they like. Most men still think blue is a manly color.

<< You look divine in blue. It’s their loss really.

Her answer was a picture of her in blue lingerie. It surprised him because that photo was not on her profile. He remembered seeing this set, but not this exact photo. He kept looking at the pic for much longer than he should have. Another message woke him up from his trance.

<< I take that as you like it.

>> This photo is not on your profile.

<< No, it’s not.

>> But you feel fine sending it to me.

<< You said I look divine in blue. 

>> You do. I’m just surprised you sent me a photo you didn’t share before. I’m glad you feel comfortable.

<< I’m pretty comfortable talking to you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t talk to someone whose name I don’t know.

>> I don’t know your name either, bunny.

<< You are a smart man. Most assume this is my real name.

>> Using your real name would be an unnecessary risk.

<< Is that why you don’t call me Viv?

>> Maybe. I wasn’t doing it on purpose. Why are you calling me handsome?

<< I don’t know, I never really thought about it.

>> Yeah, exactly. You don’t know what I look like but you are calling me handsome.

<< I would love to see what you look like, but I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.

>> I’m sure what you are imagining is much better than the reality, bunny.

<< Why do you call me bunny?

>> Because of your profile photo. The bunny ears. You look really cute.

-------

Bucky was in the middle of debriefing. After a really long mission, he was finally back in New York. He wondered if Bunny messaged him. That was what he’d been calling her in his mind for a while and suddenly, he realized it might be too weird. Was he getting too creepy? Too comfortable? They didn’t even know each other properly. The last time they talked, she asked him why he didn’t use Viv. Maybe that was a signal for him to go for the fake name instead of his nickname.

“Barnes.” Fury’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you want to add anything else.” His voice was firm.

“No, no. Romanoff covered it well.”

“Good. Rest for a couple of days. We will be going back to finish what we started.”

When Bucky finally reached out for his phone, Natasha was smiling in the corner.

“Does he have a secret girlfriend?” Sam asked.

“Maybe. I have no idea.” She lied.

-------

>> Good morning, old man.

>> Busy day?

>> I got a funny story to tell you, but you aren’t around.

>> Please tell me I didn’t offend you with the nickname.

>> I am messaging you a lot, aren’t I? I should leave you alone.

>> I’m sorry…

Bucky’s heart was racing as he read the messages. He should’ve warned her about not being online for a while. Instead, she thought she did something wrong. He looked at the message screen, trying tocome up with a good response to assure her that he wasn’t offended. He was an old man after all. What was there to get offended?

<< Hey. I’m sorry. I was away for work. There was no signal. I did not see your messages before. 

<< Just know that you never bother me. You can message me as much as you want. Whenever you want and I will answer when I can.

<< And you know I should be the one to worry if I’m bothering you or creeping you out. Not you.

<< If you still wanna tell me that funny story, I’m here to listen, Viv.

Bucky wasn’t sure if she would reply. After all, she didn’t get a message from him for a while. Maybe he’d already lost his chance… But then his phone chimed.

>> Viv? Where did Bunny go?

>> 🐰

<< You want me to call you Bunny?

>> I got used to it.

<< Okay, Bunny. If that’s what you want.

This made him feel better. Maybe he was just overthinking. She didn’t seem to mind half of the things he was thinking about.

<< Should I get used to being called old man?

>> Does it bother you?

<< It doesn’t. I am an old man.

>> You are 33 if you didn’t lie while creating your profile.

<< Biologically, yes.

>> But you feel older, so you don’t mind.

>> I’m glad you are back.

<< I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you about work.

>> It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.

That last message broke his heart. He knew she was right. He didn’t owe her anything, but that wasn’t the reason why he was explaining himself. He was doing it because he wanted to, and a small part of him wanted to owe her an explanation. He also wanted her to owe him an explanation. Yet he knew that wasn’t the case.

<< Is that how you feel?

>> Isn’t that how I should feel? I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you look like. I just know I like talking to you. If that’s the only thing you are willing to do, then it’s fine by me. I mean you could be married or engaged and I wouldn’t know. So it’s fine, you don’t have to explain yourself.

Bucky looked at the message for a while, digesting what she was saying. She was right. She had no information about who he was while he had access to her all of her content and now private messages. She was completely exposed, and he didn’t even share his name with her. Why would she trust him? Why would she owe him any explanation at all?

<< It’s James.

>> Nice to meet you, James 🐰

>> You have such a beautiful name. 

-------

After he shared his name with her, something changed between them. Something subtle, but it meant a lot to Bucky. It felt like she was more open, and more curious now. 

>> What are you wearing?

Bunny’s question caught him off guard. He looked at himself in panic. He was sitting on the floor, only with his boxers on, so there was no way he could tell her the truth.

<< Pajamas, you?

>> What kind of pajamas? I’m guessing old man pajamas but…I never saw an old man in old-school pajamas. Maybe you can show me.

Shit, shit, shit.

Lying to her was a huge mistake. He had no pajamas to put on. He only had a couple of pants, and henleys, and maybe three jackets. Natasha always made fun of him for wearing the same stuff over and over again. She was trying to hit a nerve so he would go buy something new, but it didn’t work, of course. Now, he wished it did.

He started to panic a little, looking around to find a solution. I could cover my body, a voice in his head said. And that’s what he did. He laid down, covered himself with his blanket, and took the picture. His face wasn’t in the frame, just the tip of his chin. Since he shaved this morning, his dimple was showing. He used his vibranium hand to take the selfie, and in this way, it looked like a normal photo.

It was too late when he noticed the fact that he laying on the floor, not in bed was visible. He cursed to himself while waiting for her answer. There was no way she wasn’t going to comment about the absence of the bed. No way.

>>  I am not seeing any pajamas or your body, old man. It is that bad?

Bucky took a breath of relief. Maybe she did not even notice. After all, she wanted to see him. Maybe she didn’t even pay attention to his surroundings.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. That thought changed his mind. He literally saw every part of her body. Sending a picture back in his boxers shouldn’t be a big deal, right? He stood up and extended his vibranium arm. The new selfie was quite similar except this time he was showing a lot of skin. Starting from the tip of his chin, he showed his upper body only. He looked at the photo before sending it: upper body and black boxers. No bare legs and no face.

>> I see no pajamas. And this body doesn't belong to an old man at all. Are you lying to me, James?🤨

He might have made a mistake by sending this picture. There was no way he could prove to her this is actually him. Especially after all that old man talk. While he was thinking about what he’s gonna do next, he got another message.

>> Cat got your tongue?

<< A bunny did actually.

>> You look good, James. Really good, but you don’t seem excited.

Her response confused him. 

<< Excited?

>> Maybe you need a photo to get excited.

Before he could ask what that means, she sent him a pic of her. Definitely not professionally taken. It’s her in front of the mirror, wearing only shorts and covering her naked breasts with one of her hands while taking the picture with the other. 

>> Hope this helps.

>> But if you wanna see more, you gotta share more.

<< You're very beautiful, bunny, but I hope you know this was not my intention. I was waiting for you to tell me that funny story.

Her response was another photo: a close up on her covered breasts. She looked like she was about to drop her hand and reveal it like he did not see them before.

>> I know.

>> So does this mean you're not excited? I was trying something here…

>> I can tell you the story if that’s what you’d rather do.

“Fuck…” Bucky cursed out loud. He was really good at this before. Flirting and finding the best possible response were easy back in the 40s, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. He was constantly worried about doing something wrong or creeping her out. He wanted to hear the story, but he really wanted to see her breasts too.

<< What do I have to do to see more?

>> I’ve just told you. Share more to get more.

Oh, so she wanted more photos of him, and he literally had no idea how to take flattering pictures.

>> Maybe start by showing me if the photos worked or not.

He looked down at himself and saw his rock-hard cock. How is he supposed to show her? Maybe I should mimic her photos. He touched the outline of his dick, making it a little more visible before taking a picture.

<< Is it clear enough?

>> Oh, you got really excited, didn’t you Jamie?

>> Not an old man after all.

He loudly groaned when he saw what she called him. Jamie. God! He felt a jolt of arousal the moment he read the nickname. He was sure he got even a little harder if that’s possible. 

Before he could find an answer, Bunny sent him another photo. This time her palm was stretched on her breasts, fingers not hiding much anymore, but still, her tits weren’t completely visible. Yet he could see how erect her nipple was. He already had a lot of dirty thoughts: like taking her nipple into his mouth and torturing her before giving in. He just didn’t know if he should voice them or not.

<< Oh, that nipple…

>> What about it?

<< You wanna hear what I am thinking about?

>> Well, since I’m trying to tempt you here… What do you think?

<< Fuck, Bunny. You have no idea what you are doing to me.

>> I am dying to hear it though.

Instead of telling her, Bucky decided to show her. He tried to position himself in front of the camera and take a good photo of his erection. He tried a couple of different angles, but it was a dick after all. Nothing he tried seemed to make it seem more appealing in his view. When he finally sent the picture, he added a small text.

<< How about I show you instead?

>> Oh my god!

>> You were hiding that from me all this time?

>> Damn, I feel robbed.

<< Does this mean you like it, doll?

>> Oh, that’s new.

>> And I like it.

>> Maybe even better than Bunny.

>> And yes, I am actually drooling right now even with that horrible angle. 

<< Horrible angle? How should I do this then? I never...

>> Do you want me to teach you, old man? Because I can.

<< I’m always open to learning new stuff. That’s the only thing you can always rely on.

>> Ohh, I love that. Open-minded, doesn’t mind taking criticism, no fragile masculinity. All very hot. 

>> Try taking a picture in front of the mirror maybe. Don’t take the picture from above or too down. Try to use eye level if you aren’t particularly doing something. That works better.

Using a mirror wasn’t a good idea for him. He could imagine the photos looking better like that, but there was no way he could hide his metal arm.

So instead of positionin his camera above, he tried to level it down, showing his full length and thickness. A photo didn’t seem to work so he decided to record a short video of him playing with himself: his flesh hand going up and down slowly on his full length. He couldn’t help but let a low moan when his hand brushed against the head. Fuck, imagining her seeing this… The idea turned him on even more. He got so excited that he forgot to check the video before sending it.

>> Fuck, James.

>> Fuck fuck fuck.

>> Your voice is so fucking hot.

>> And you are so aroused. Is it all for me?

<< It’s all for you, doll.

<< This is what you do to me. All the time. 

<< God, I wish you were here.

Bunny or Doll, he had no idea which one suits her better, sent a video as the response: her fingers, two of them, going in and out inside her. She was going pretty fast, indicating she had been doing this for a while, and there was a faint moaning in the background, which Bucky couldn’t get enough of. He watched the video twice before answering.

>> You are gonna be the death of me.

>> Are those fingers enough? Do you want a third one or maybe you would rather have a big dildo inside?

<< I would rather have you inside me.

After this point, everything felt like a blur. Things got out of hand, they kept exchanging photos and videos until they both got pretty powerful orgasms. Yet James found himself wanting more. So much more than she probably wanted to offer.

>>> Next Chapter

[kholden83]

I posted 12,046 times in 2022

22 posts created (0%)

12,024 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-gayest-dovah

@maximum-mom

@stabbyflower

@straycatj

@farm-paws

I tagged 2,013 of my posts in 2022

#pet rat - 232 posts

#should probably tag this 'personal' or something - 36 posts

#unreality - 29 posts

#huh - 20 posts

#signal boost - 19 posts

#wow - 17 posts

#yeah - 16 posts

#fictional pet care - 12 posts

#some original content - 12 posts

#hmm - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and it only came up because of that school in brisbane that tried to suddenly tried to add a bunch of anti-gay stuff to their previously ba

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I'm sure we all know the post about cleaning with ADHD that suggests "Junebugging", an attitude to cleaning that as long as something is being cleaned, progress is being made, so don't worry if you somehow cleaned the kitchen table instead of the shower?

Anyway, I just junebugged my way into cleaning the outside of the front door.

I put some washing (US:laundry) on, and to help it dry (I usually hang it inside) put my hygrometer outside to see if it was worth opening up. It was only 60% outside, to inside's 70%, so I wandered around opening windows.

Kitchen window had somehow got locked, so I got the Complete house keys, which live on a lanyard, to unlock it. (I have a copy of the door key on my bike key chain, so I don't need the Complete set often)

Lanyard was mouldy somehow, so I hung it on the doorknob to wipe it over with isopropyl alcohol.

After that, the bit of the door that got wiped incidentally was way cleaner, and showing up how dirty the rest of the door was, so I got some wipes out and cleaned that too. For the first time since I lived here, some 5 years now.

After I typed that, I looked up the original post to just double check, and it defined junebugging a little differently to how I had recalled it, but my thinking here was inspired by it.

Anyway, after that, I'd accidentally removed one more wipe from the packet than I needed for the door, and my grubby fingers had got it dirty, so I cleaned the light switches. The one in the kitchen was filthy, I'm not sure it had ever been cleaned, tbh.

3 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

#4

I finally got around to scheduling my COVID booster. I very cleverly scheduled it for a Monday afternoon, shortly after my daycentre finishes to save a trip into Town, and before I have a couple of days with nothing on, just in case I have side effects.

Only. I forgot that today is a public holiday, and my day centre is closed, so I don't save a trip into town, and there is in fact a small possibility that the chemist itself won't be open, and the website just let me schedule for this arvo because the public holiday hadn't been programmed in. I did actually mean to ring up and check, but I forgot.

I could have rescheduled for next week, but I've already put it off for months, so I decided to just go anyway

3 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

#3

ARGH! Four electorates still in doubt in the whole country, and one of them is mine. I just want to know who our MP is!

4 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

#2

Well, it finally got me. I have COVID.

I'm at camp, and woke up this morning feeling like a truck hit me, and left a buncha sludge in my lungs.

So I left the cabin, and hung out on the verandah until someone in authority woke up so I could ask for a test. Which was positive. Really positive, the line was really clear before it even finished developing.

Currently back on the verandah, waiting for a family member to come retrieve me.

About an hour ago I coughed so hard I puked.

5 notes - Posted December 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I am so just over all this rain

Not as much as the residents of Lismore, I guess, but even without dangerous flooding this is too much water.

6 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[sadlysoulx]

–Haikyuu characters playing 7 minutes in heaven with you

(W/ Oikawa & Ushijima)

(w/ drawings :))

Hiiiiiiiiii<3 Sorry if I haven't post in a while. Something happened in our family, and so. . . Yeah, I can't post the past few days. But here is an apology give for all of you😔❤️

⚠️Warning⚠️: Crappy drawings

Oikawa

You rolled your eyes. What did you expect, silence throughout the 7 minutes?

It's Matsukawa and Hanamaki in that closet.

Ofcourse, they would bang the closet with their hands and moan out loud purposely.

Annoying really.

Iwaizumi was there fighting with Oikawa to let them out of the closet, saying that his parents might hear them from downstairs and he would be the one to get scolded. However, Oikawa was enjoying all of this.

7 minutes was up and Oikawa opened the closet.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa pretended that their legs were sore, so they stumbled across the room.

They plopped down on the each side of you, giggling to themselves.

"Y'all are bad actors," Your rolled your eyes. "Dramatic,"

Hanamaki and Matsukawa snorted.

Oikawa excitedly picked a paper from the bowl, flapping it open to reveal the name.

"Y/N," He announced, showing the paper to everyone.

You shrugged, acting unbothered.

"I hope it's Oikawa," Hanamaki whispered.

"If it isn't Oikawa, I would literally throw the both of you in that closet," Matsukawa added.

You ignored the boys and waited for Oikawa to announce another name.

"And her partner would be. . ." Oikawa picked another name from the bowl and flipped it open. He gasped, jumping on the spot.

"IT'S ME!"

Matsukawa and Hanamaki bursted into laughter. They high fived each other, on the top of your head since you were sitting at the middle of them.

"C'mon, my lady," Oikawa winked at you, opening the closet, waiting for you to go inside.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki howled like wolves and Oikawa gave them a flying kiss. Iwaizumi

Your world immediately went black.

Oikawa's confidence immediately drained him.

"Y-Y/N?"

You blushed, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

"D-don't worry, I'll protect you from the m-monsters that lurk in this closet,"

Oikawa felt that he stepped in something.

"W-WHAT WAS THAT?!"

You sucked in air through your teeth. "That was my foot, Oikawa,"

"Shit! I'm sorry!" He immediately apologized.

You sighed. Oikawa can be a play boy but he won't be. He always embarrassed himself when he tries to flirt with a person.

"It's fine, Oikawa-san,"

Two minutes roughly passed by and it was only filled by silence. There was only an occasional grunt from Oikawa whenever he bumped his head against the top of the closet.

Somehow, Oikawa got his confidence back in just a split-second. He switched into a seductive boy as quick as flipping a light switch.i

"Hey Y/N," He place this hand on the wall your leaning on, just above your shoulder. "Do you know what people do when they're in a situation like this?"

He raised your chin with his pointer finger.

"They kiss," Oikawa leaned in. "They make out,"

Your heart pounded against your chest and he softly swipe his thumb across your lips.

Oikawa leaned in closer, his minty breath tickling your senses. Just then, he realized what he was doing and he stepped back and leaned in his own side of wall, stuttering.

"I'm— I– Shit! I'M SO SORRY!" Oikawa looked around but your eyes. You could still see him shaking due to the small amount of light that peeked through the tiny gap in the closet.

You sighed. You were sick and tired of him flirting out of the blue and suddenly stopping thinking you won't like it.

You stepped closer to him. Pressing a hand on his collarbones, you slowly dragged it down his clothed toned chest and then dragging your hand on his pants.

You hooked your finger on those belt slots and then tugged him forward, making him whimper and weaken his knees.

"Y-Y/N-chan,"

You rolled your eyes. "Such an idiot,"

Your grabbed his collar and tugged him down, you pressed your lips fully against his.

Oikawa stiffened, before whining and pulling you closer. Feeling braver, you sneakily slipped your tongue in.

The brunette opened his mouth, giving more access, tongues swirled lovingly and he melted in your touch. Smugly, you pushed him off and Oikawa gasped.

"HEY!" Oikawa frowned, crossing his arms. "We're not done yet!"

He stepped closer to you, his ego shooting up when you kissed him. "Can you give me another one, love?"

Blushing, you gently pushed him off again. "As much as I want to, we can't. Time is almost over,"

As if on cue, the door swung open, revealing Iwaizumi, squinting at the both of you suspiciously.

Oikawa held on your waist and kissed your temple, making everyone gasp.

"Be mine," He whispered in your ear.

Oikawa walked away and out the door, smiling softly to himself.

You smiled, he already knows what's your answer.

Ofcourse, Oikawa. I'll be yours.

Ushijima

You giggled to yourself as you watch Semi and Shirabu get out of the closet, frowning but a deep blush flushed on their faces.

"How did it go?!" Tendou immediately interrogated.

Semi and Shirabu huffed, looking away from each other. "Bad," They said together.

Tendou snickered behind his hand, "I'm pretty sure if they get along in the first place, they would fuck,"

Before the two could curse, Tendou dug his hands in the bowl and picked up two pieces of paper.

"OH! How great! It's Y/N and our Miracle boy!"

The crowd cheered as your eyes widened. "Wait what—?"

Tendou grabbed the back of your collar and pulled you up. He happily pushed you in the old closet and you groaned in pain when you bump your head at the wood.

"Tendou-san—" A large built body stumbled into you and you were immediately enveloped in warmth as the person gently gripped your arms.

Ushjima pulled back, a flustered expression on his face.

"I'm really sorry about that, Y/N-chan," he grumbled.

He was once pressed again against you when Tendou pushed him in, closing the door and the small space darkening.

"Sorry again. . ." Ushjima quietly said, pulling his hands off you. Silence filled the musty closet, and the both of you stood at the other side against the wall, not exchanging a single word to each other.

"Are alright there?" Ushijima asked and you saw his shadow reaching up and scratching his nape.

You smiled. "Yes I am, thanks for asking,"

Silence filled again and seconds passed by, a heavy feeling sat at the bottom of your stomach making you nervous. Ushjima sat down on the floor, his legs pressed up against his chest not wanting to take your space.

"Y/N-chan?"

You hummed in response, looking up once again at his mascular shadowy figure.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure!"

There was a few momments of silence. You saw him turn away to stare at the door of the closet.

"Thank you for being a manager, Y/N, out team has become much more better with you," He silent said.

You smiled. "That's nothing Ushjima-san, I love being here, it feels like home,"

In the dark you could see Ushijima's shadowy figure look up.

"And I wanted to add that," A pause. "That over the time, I actually developed feelings for you,"

Your eyes widened and you choked on air.

Well that was unexpected.

"I know that you see me as part of the team, so I kept my feelings aside. But then, Tendou told me to confess to you," there was something distant about Ushjima's tone of voice. "I tried being a much more better man. . . Just for you," He said, his voice now merely a whisper.

You blinked in the dark. Your heart clenching when you finally realized he is being insecure.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my confession," Ushjima mumbled, his voice noticibly shaky. "I'm sorry,"

There was a ruffle as Ushijima slid down the wall and sat down. In the next few moments of silence, you were contemplating on what to do next.

Gaining some confidence, you slid down on your knees, facing Ushjima.

"You don't need to apologise, Ushijima-san," You softly said. "Because I like you too,"

"You do?"

You softly laughed. "Yeah,"

You leaned in, taking his soft cheeks in your hands. "I'm going to kiss you. Is that okay?"

Ushjima nodded frantically. Smiling, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and then to his lips. You gave out a giggle before pressing your lips fully to his.

The man below you gave out a groan, raising his hands up to keep place on your hips, running it up and down. He kept you closer, the pace of the kiss increasing.

Wet noises filled the small closet, it's not that both of you care, just as long as the both of you were close. Ushjima places one hand on the back of your thigh, bringing you closer and making you straddle him.

Soon, tongues were involved. A shaky hand went up to the back of your head pulling you closer, and at this position, your tounge went deeper to explore the mouth of Ushjima.

The both of you pulled back, pressing your foreheads together.

"I love you," you mumbled, running a hand through his dark green hair.

Ushjima shyly kissed the edge of your lips.

"I love you more," he paused. "Can you be mine?"

A giggle escape your lips. "Ofcourse,"

You were about to kiss again when a voice spoke up.

"Wow, congratulations guys,"

You and Ushjima slightly jumped and turned to the door, just to see Tendou peeking in between the door crack.

"I'm proud of you guys," he smiled.

Follow me in Wattpad.

Guys I'm scared, I think I have covid.

[calltomuster]

(Even More) Star Wars Fic Recs

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list]

Hello everyone, happy Monday! I've been reading some fantastic fics recently and wanted to share them with you. May 4th was an absolutely glorious day to be a Star Wars fanfic reader, but the downside to having so many great stories posted on way day is that it's super easy to miss some, so I tried to highlight some here, as well as the usual random assortment.

Alternating Current by @jessepinwheel (gen, WIP, 1/3 chapters, 5.7k words) I am subscribed to @jessepinwheel's AO3 account, that's how much I love all of their writing, and this is just their latest masterpiece. The premise is that after Naboo, Obi-Wan starts experiencing some strange things, almost as if there's someone else in his body. But it doesn't feel like a foreign presence in his mind... And, well, the presence calls themselves Ben. I'm so, so intrigued to see what happens next in this story.

See, I'm the Living Icarus by @crispyjenkins (Rex/Obi-Wan, WIP, 2/6 chapters, 7.0k words) Role-reversal with Obi-Wan as Anakin's Padawan post-Melida/Daan fighting in the Clone Wars alongside Rex. Yeah, that's what I thought -- you're hooked, right? I was too. And then I read the first two chapters and wowwwww, just got even more obsessed. It's all just *chef's kiss*. Cannot wait to read more.

Off Duty by thosenearandfarwars (Obi-Wan/Cody, one-shot, 4.4k words) A post-ROTS world in which the Jedi were not destroyed, the clones are given reparations, and Obi-Wan throws his whole self into reforming the Jedi Order. It's from Cody's POV as he tries to stop his (former?) General from running himself into the ground. Featuring Jedi culture, positive change, some fun namedrops (Chirrut?!), and CODYWAN! Highly recommend this fic.

Starting Over by @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 (Obi-Wan/Cody, one-shot, 3.8k words) Speaking of amazing ideal post-ROTS AUs with Codywan, here's another! This one is described in the tags as being soft and domestic, and it totally is. Cody + plants + Obi-Wan = delight. Such a pleasure to read. Makes you feel all cozy inside.

Finders Keepers by SpaceWall (Obi-Wan/Cody + a ton of background ships, 2/2 chapters, 8.4k words) This fic is a soulmate AU that follows the premise that everything you lose, your soulmate ends up finding. It really does an excellent job of exploring this fascinating premise, and using it in ways I wouldn't have thought of. Like, something happens with Anakin that is just so beautiful yet haunting, I just... Ah! The main ship here is Codywan, but there are so many great background ships like Aayla and Bly or Anakin and Padmé, and some that are super interesting, like Satine and Rex, or Fox and Bail and Breha Organa. Fascinating stuff!

Benediction by @misskirby (gen, one-shot, 3.3k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Each new fic by @misskirby destroys me, and this one is no different except it's destroying me with HAPPY THINGS and POSITIVE EMOTIONS for once. My heart hurts just thinking about it, not because it makes me sad, but just in a... ahhh I don't know, the emotions, okay?! Obi-Wan is watching the twins with Anakin in a ROTS-didn't-happen AU and they actually TALK? With their words? And express positive feelings towards each other without being put in horrible situations? Like I said, AU 😂. This is so, so good. (This fic was not posted on May 4th, but @misskirby did post Stride for Stride on that day, which is an excellent fic about Obi-Wan and Anakin sparring for Ahsoka that you all also must read.)

still much that is fair by RaineyDay (gen, 8/8 chapters, 21.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Massive trigger warning right off the bat for this one, because it starts off with Padawan Obi-Wan trying to commit suicide by throwing himself off of the Temple roof, except instead of dying, he ends up getting caught by -- Anakin?! Somehow he ends up in the future to find out that he's loved, and a good Jedi. Back in his own timeline, Qui-Gon thinks his Padawan has just succeeded in killing himself, and is distraught and has to reckon with their relationship. Don't worry, it has a happy ending! Give Obi-Wan a hug 2k21!

trouble with the curve by jimmytiberius (Cody/Obi-Wan, one-shot, 2.4k words) Modern day baseball AU! Cody is the analytics guy whose job it is to watch Kenobi and how people hit off of him, and Rex is Obi-Wan's normal bullpen catcher. Problem is, Rex is a little hungover, so Cody has to secretly take his brother's place and hope no one notices. Sparks fly!! You guys, this fic is awesome. You don't need to know anything about baseball to read it, though if you do it adds another delightful dimension. Highly recommend! I smile just thinking about this fic!

Lasting Marks by kyitsya (gen, 10/10 chapters, 25.8k words, Obi-Wan & Rex) I reread this fic the other day and it was just as emotionally devastating the second or third time around. It follows Obi-Wan and Rex in the Zygerria arc, except they're trapped in the mines for weeks and things really take a toll. Obi-Wan and Rex's relationship is not one that's explored much in canon, so it's really cool to see a bond form here. I also really like the later subplot with Ahsoka.

Got Me in a Tricky Situation by @dharmaavocado (pre Rex/Obi-Wan, one-shot, 5.2k words) Rex and Obi-Wan are trapped together underneath a collapsed building and they have to literally and metaphorically hold onto each other for support. I absolutely love the descriptions in this one, they're killer (almost literally haha). Some great good ol' fashioned whump. Love it!

A Long Way Down by @kckenobi (gen, one-shot, 3.8k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) @kckenobi writes truly wonderful fics, but I gotta say I think this is my favorite. Obi-Wan and Anakin are trying to escape Separatists by climbing up a cliff face, but Obi-Wan's injured and he's really struggling to hold on... Oh, everything about this is perfect: the characterizations, the descriptions, the dialogue, everything! I reread this one all the time.

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

[beskarberry]

Bargaining with Beskar (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“Alright, space cowboy, your turn.” You nodded towards the bulge that had made his baggy canvas pants grow tight, and he followed your gaze with what you guessed was surprise. “Let’s see what you’ve got in there, hmm?”

Rating : Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: canon-typical violence (bounty capture) smut: captured bounty sex, rough play (soft choke), fingering, pent up sex.

Summary: You’re an ex bounty hunter just trying to escape the guilds radar long enough to spend a hefty reward, but a another bounty hunter has other plans for you. Can you convince him to let you go with only your charm, or will you find yourself in carbonite?

Authors note: I wrote this in a fury in the middle of the night so it’s messy and very very self indulgent. It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything so if I need to tag something tell me!

Edit: This fic started on another blog of mine but I moved it here to keep it consistent for when I add more chapters.

Next->

You'd had a good run.

It was a hard opportunity to pass up, the high profile bounty you had been charged to bring in had been able to contact their family shortly before you had captured them and the family offered to pay you handsomely for their return, easily triple what the guild was going to pay for this bail jumper. You’d taken the deal, but that meant you would be returning to the guild empty handed. Maybe if you laid low for a while they'd forget.

Of course that was a stupid thought, within weeks you had noticed rookie hunters on your tail.  Word had gotten out that the bounty was walking free and a sloppy bounty hunter was a liability to the guild. After evading all of the green-horns for a time the more experienced hunters began tracking you, and your only choice with them was kill or be killed. They should have known you wouldn't go down quietly.

Months passed before you saw another hunter, hoping against hope that they had given up. It wasn't until you had gotten somewhat comfortable on Tatooine that the last one came.

You were far outside of Mos Eisly, the sandy city was barely a smudge on the horizon from where you were laying low doing repair work on a moisture extractor when he arrived. The machines engine was so loud in your ear you never heard him coming up over the dune, though through the scope of the pulse riffle he carried you wouldn't have heard him anyway. You cranked a ratchet against a stubborn bolt,

-crank.... crank.... c-CRZZT-!

Electricity coursed through you,  your first thought was that somehow you had made a connection with a loose wire and shocked yourself, but it was soon obvious that whatever had electrified you was strong enough to paralyze you, causing you to drop down onto the ground. Your fingers were still twitching when you heard bootsteps coming over the sand, but you were unable to stand, instead you worked to shake the electricity running through you.

"Th-thi-think I hit a whi-wh-wire there, I- I- I- I'll get it fi- fixed." you stuttered through clenched teeth, thinking it was the moisture farmer that had hired you coming to see if you were ok. The pulse was wearing off quickly, and you were able to jerk your head enough to make visual contact with the boot of the man approaching you, but these were not the boots of a farmer, they were the boots of a bounty hunter.

"Oh fuck" you tried to scramble to your feet, but you were still jarred from the pulse bolt that had hit you. The man above you wasn't going to wait for you to get your footing, and kicked you over onto your back with one bandoliered boot, then kneeled into your gut with the other, knocking the wind out of you. Still twitching with electricity he snapped a pair of binders on your wrist before hauling you to your feet. You struggled in his grasp, a combination of convulsion and fear made you squirm like a womp rat in a trap, but his grasp was too strong. Suddenly there was cold metal pressed against your side, the barrel of a blaster digging into your ribs.

"Move it." A man of little words but quick and to the point, the blaster barrel forced harder into your side to accentuate his point. He ripped your supply bag off of your shoulders and stuffed a leather clad hand into the belt of your canvas pants to fish out your hidden blaster. Rude. He shoved you toward the barren wasteland of the dune sea, unable to argue with the barrel digging into your ribs you both set off in a brisk pace across sands.

"Whose p- paying you?" You sputtered, still feeling the after effects of the pulse bolt. "I can pay you m- more. I made three ti- times the bounty the guild would pay and I would g- gladly split it with you." Bargaining was your only option at the moment, arms and legs like jelly and unable to put up a good fight. The hunter said nothing, continuing to half march half drag you over the sands. "I bet half is still more than double what they're paying you now, so whad’dya say? Wanna go splitsies?" Still nothing. You huffed, dragging your legs in the sand as best you could to slow him down, but a quick jab with the blaster barrel had you singing a different tune.

The pair of you marched on for a couple hours through the dunes towards a rocky outcropping, you continued making offers of credits and services but never once did he respond, choosing instead to shank you with the blaster or shove a hand into your back to remind you of your current position as his prisoner, without letting you get so much as a peek at your captor. Before long you both had made it to the rocks, and hidden behind them was the saddest looking star ship you had ever seen. It was pre-Imperial you were sure, standing dusty and dented in the fading double sunset. The fact that it had survived atmospheric reentry was a surprise in itself. Like hell you were getting on that thing. The bounty hunter shoved you forward towards the ugly ship, letting go of you just long enough to press a couple buttons on his vambrace to open the entry ramp. It was now or never.

Tired and dehydrated as you were from your trek across the dunes you knew this might be your only chance. You tucked in your bound wrists and made a run for it, kicking up sand in your escape. You were fast but he was faster.

-fwip!- SNAP! Something had caught your leg, yanking your feet out from under you and forcing you to do a faceplant in the rocky sand with a thud. You whipped around to find that he had shot you with some kind of grapple, hauling you back towards him by your ankle you were finally able to see who had caught you.

Is that the Mandalorian? From Karga’s cantina? Of all the hunters you had seen in your travels, Mandalorians were a breed all their own. The stoic hunters had frequented the ramshackle cantina on Navarro that you had visited a handful of times in your earlier days of hunting. You’d started to recognize one in particular that frequented the guild post often. His beskar helmet was shiny unpainted silver, but the last time you had seen him the rest of his armor was a dingy reddish brown. The thought was fleeting as you struggled to escape being dragged by the grapple but once he had you back in his grasp there was no denying it was the same man. He was covered almost head to toe in bullets and beskar, all the way up to the familiar shiny dome of it that covered his entire head. You were able to get an excellent view of its craftsmanship as he pulled you back up to your feet and marched you backwards into the old ship, the black shimmer of his visor never leaving your face. You stumbled over your own feet, fighting with the last bit of your strength for one last chance at escape.

“Mando! Remember me? From Kargas? On Navarro? Yeah yeah heya buddy! Hey hunter to hunter you don’t actually want to bring me in, I just know how much you ~looove~ talking with that old cantina crook and the, uh, paper work! Yeah paper work is suuuch a headache! I’ll just slip on out of here and we can both avoid a bad time, sound good?” Though you knew who he was you’d never spoken to this man in your life, and he of course wasn’t going to entertain your pleas, but it was the best you had. You were pushed backwards through the ship, past supply crates and what looked like the guts of a protocol droid towards what you could only guess was a carbonite chamber. He tossed your supply pack somewhere into the bowels of the ship without ever taking his gaze off you. Panic found a few last drops of adrenaline to pump through your veins as you neared your impending doom. Your silent captor backed you into the chamber, puffs of fog billowing out from behind you as the machine fired up. You had to get out, thrashing in his grasp and kicking against the walls of the chamber with every last bit of strength you had, but just like the armor he wore, he himself was unbreakable.

The bigger hunter was becoming fed up, frustrated with your squirming and never ending bargaining; he needed you to hold still long enough for him to hit the activation sequence so this hunt would be over. He let go of your bound wrists and pushed a leather clad hand up against your throat.

“~Ahh~!”

The noise that escaped your mouth made you both freeze, you just as shocked as he was. Your cheeks flushed with heat, embarrassed that in your current state of capture such a filthy noise had been coaxed from you. You squeezed your eyes shut, just waiting for it to be over and let the carbonite freeze you into oblivion, but its chill never came. You slowly opened one eye to glance at the armored man, but he looked like he was the one that had been frozen.

“What was that?” His voice was like gravel coming through the modulator of his helmet, and you flushed red again at his question, looking between the corners of his visor where you thought his eyes might be.

“Don’t worry about it, tin man.” you croaked, “Just hurry up and let’s get this over with.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, hoping that the darkness behind your eyelids was enough for you to vanish into. But you felt the hand leave your neck, coasting down to your bound wrists and tugging you out of the carbonite freezer. Unable to really argue with him you followed his pull on shaky legs, looking at the unreadable face for a sign of his intentions. Once you were free of the chamber he pushed you up against the nearby wall and held you in front of him, completely motionless.

You were confused, embarrassed, and now suddenly frustrated. Was he really going to drag this out for stupid questions? He stood like a statue, the visor of his helmet felt like its gaze was trying to bore a hole through your skull. You stared at him, then to his hands, and last down to his blaster before looking back up to his visor. You watched as one leather gloved hand slowly made its way back up to your neck, giving it a firm squeeze like he had done before, but you wouldn’t fall for that trick a second time.

“Do it again.” came a rumbling voice from deep inside the beskar, but this time it was lower, more measured and full of something that made your heart do flip-flops in your chest. A sinful thought came to you, maybe you would be able to escape after all.

“You’re going to have to work for it, no more freebies” a sly smile crept over your face, earning a tilt of the helmet that made you feel like you were being inspected by a large bird. Your hands were still locked together, but you brought them both up anyway to wrap your fingers around the armored wrist that still leaned against your throat. Immediately his other hand went for the blaster and its barrel was trained on you in a heartbeat. “Easy...” you whispered  showing both of your raised palms in a sign of peace. He kept the blaster trained on you as you gently grabbed his wrist with both hands, pulling on it to guide it down the front of your shirt. When his hand reached your breast, you pushed his palm into the supple mound, rewarding him with another breathy sigh.

Something like a huff whispered out though his modulator, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the whirring of the ships innards, but you knew what you heard. The blaster in his other hand dipped away from you slowly before finding its spot back in its holster. Once it was safely away his free hand came up to grab at your other breast, earning him another encouraging sigh. Without letting go of the front of your shirt he carefully spun you away from the carbonite freezer and walked you backwards towards one of the supply crates that littered the hull until it bumped up against the back of your knees; prompting you to plop down on it. You leaned back, arching your bound arms over your head to give you some kind of leverage while he toyed with your breasts.

“Y’know they’re even more fun without the shirt.” you chided. The mandalorian took the hint and ghosted down to the hem of the tunic you had worn to blend in with the other farmers. It was thin and yielded easily as he pushed it up over your breasts, the flesh of your nipple puckering in the cool air of the ship. The shiny black of his visor never left your chest, only tilting side to side as he took both of them in. His leather gloves were soft and warm on your skin, gently pinching at your nipple and pulling on them just enough to cause your breast to bounce when he let go. He grabbed at the pillowy flesh, groping and rolling your sensitive buds between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers. All the while you made good on your word, making soft sighs to edge him on. Though you knew this was supposed to be your escape plan, you couldn’t help the way heated pooled in your belly, making you squeeze your thighs together and rock your hips. The armored man noticed the way you were squirming and let his hands wander down from your breasts to the hem of your canvas pants.

“Well? Don’t leave a girl waiting.” You rocked your hips up at his hands, trying to get him to take the hint. His expert hands that had wielded fierce weaponry so well now seemed to falter at what he was supposed to do next. His fingers were slow undoing the button and zipper as if he'd never taking someone else's clothes off before, before pushing them down until they were around your knees. The sudden hit of cool air made you instantly aware of just how hot you had become under his groping. You used your knees and heels to push your pants all the way off, kicking your muckboots off with them and opening yourself up for him to get a good look at you.

His body was stiff, the visor of his helmet staring down at your heat, he was so still you could swear he was holding his breath. Suddenly his gaze made you feel vulnerable, as if he didn’t like your display. You moved to start closing your legs when a strong hand shot out to grab your knee and hold it in place while he continued to gawk at you. He likes what he sees you realized, heat flushing to your face and your cunt. Again you rolled your hips from side to side, trying to entice him. What’s he waiting for?

“Please...” you gave him your best impression of a needy virgin and saw his shoulders immediately go even stiffer, the black visor snapping up to meet your eyes. “Take your gloves off.”

He cocked his helmet at you, and you were starting to get the hang of reading an unreadable face. “Just trust me, we’ll both enjoy it more.” At that he tugged the glove off of one hand and tossed it somewhere behind him in the ship, exposing bronze skin of a, thankfully, human hand. He reached down between your legs at the hot core of your body, slowly moving his fingers down your slit. You sighed and arched into his touch, begging with your body for something more tangible. His other hand came up to grab your thigh and steady you, but the hand tracing your heat was shy and ghostlike, almost like he wasn’t touching you at all. “Please Mando...” you begged again, hoping he would get the damn hint.

He pushed one finger experimentally into your folds, dragging the wetness that had accumulated there over your opening and making you hum for him. He moved from the bottom up until his calloused hand found the sensitive little nub you had been waiting for him to find. The roughness of his skin caused you to convulse and cry out, making him tear his hand away as if he’d been burned.

“It’s alright! Please touch me there.” Who is this guy? What’s he never seen a pussy before? You thought to yourself, surprised that such a big scary man would be so jumpy. You arched your back and was rewarded with his hands back where they belonged. He pushed his thumb up against your aching clit, drawing lazy circles with it while another finger began pushing its way inside you. This time you let out a ragged and dirty moan to let him know he was doing a good job. He pulled his thumb away from your engorged nub to push a second finger up in you, making you whine. He found a spot in you quickly that was starting to make you shake again, but this time he knew not to foolishly let go. Your legs were quaking, head lolling to the side and making those sinful sighs that you could tell he liked. He was getting you close, your muscles squeezing around his rough fingers as he worked you to your climax. When his thumb found your clit again you came undone, your cunt fluttering around his fingers with your orgasm. He rode it out with you, pushing up against the coiled muscle to milk every ounce of pleasure from you that you could give on his hands alone. You could feel your own cum leaking down your thighs and around his hand, now realizing how pent up you actually were. What a mess you would be.

You were nearly gasping but you knew you were far from spent. He pulled his hand from your dripping cunt and you watched him stare at the slick on his hands, sticking and unsticking his fingers just to watch the glimmering trails. Cute, you mused to yourself, he really might not have seen a pussy before.

“Alright, space cowboy, your turn.” You nodded towards the bulge that had made his baggy canvas pants grow tight, and he followed your gaze with what you guessed was surprise. “Let’s see what you’ve got in there, hmm?” With one last glance at the prize on his fingers, he took a moment to reach them up underneath the edge of his helmet, greedily getting a taste of you, before straightening up and undoing his own buttons. You were not prepared for the monster that flopped out of his pants, his cock full and engorged all the way to its hot red tip. Thick veins wound their way up its length and you swore you could see them pulse even from your vantage point on the crate. A soft drop of precum was already forming at the tip and you licked your lips involuntarily, feeling a fresh rush of heat pooling between your legs. “I’m all yours.”

The hunter grasped his aching cock and used his thumb to glide the precum up and down it’s length before he angled himself between your legs. You arched your hips to give him the best angle but he wanted to take his time. He dragged the head of his cock up and down the length of your slick opening, gathering the cum he had earned for himself. When he bumped up against your clit you moaned a breathy and sinful sound that made him shiver. He slid back down again and you pushed your hip towards him, forcing his tip to notch and he almost doubled over from the sensation, giving you a ragged groan in response.

“Did that feel good?” you asked, biting your lip with a devious sneer. “It’ll feel even better inside.” His gaze was fixed on where the two of you were connected, his hands like steel on your thighs. Another tilt of your hips was enough to turn the cogwheels of the metal man and he pushed his length into you with a shuddering gasp. Your own breath caught in your throat at the size of him breaking you open. He pulled himself back out achingly slow before thrusting into you again and earning himself another round of pleasured cries. It took him only a couple more thrusts to find his rhythm, bottoming out against your cervix with every thrust. Your head was cloudy and a fearsome heat was building in your belly, threatening to burst every time he pounded into you. You could hear him now, the once silent bounty hunter was panting ragged puffs of air and if it had been any cooler in the ship you swore you would have seen steam coming out of the helmets vents.

He slowed his feverish pounding just long enough to release one of your captured thighs and bring a thumb down to your clit, pushing against it in a way that was rougher than what you would have liked but nevertheless sent your head spiraling and forcing a pitiful mewl to escape your throat. It wasn’t long before another round of lightning crackled through your body and sent another orgasm crashing through you. The force of it made him choke and stuttered his perfect rhythm hard enough that he fell forward onto you. Your hands were still locked together but you wrapped them around his broad armored back as best you could, pulling him close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath coming out of the bottom of the helmet. He groaned and pushed his head into the crook of your neck before finding his filthy cadence again. He was close enough now that you could catch the scent of him, a mix of sweat and metal and gunpowder and something so primal it made your eyes flutter.

“Let me feel that again.” His ragged voice in your ear sent you spinning, and you could only answer with choked cries. The hand he had used to work you into a frenzy before now snaked it’s way up to your throat, giving it the exact gentle squeeze he had earlier that started this whole twisted tango. This time you gave him precisely what he was asking for, your tongue peeking ever so slightly past wet lips in between soft choked gasps. His pace quickened by your edging and his grasp tightened on your neck, drawing an ugly -urk- noise that had you patting his back in protest. To your relief he respected your gesture and let go of your neck entirely. Interesting...what a sweet, thoughtful murder machine he is. He grabbed ahold of the abused crate that held you both up and ground his hips into you, fucking you so hard you swore it would break. It wasn’t long before your overstimulated cunt gave him exactly what he asked for, crying out into the silence of the hull and clamping down around his cock.

That was the last thing he needed to push him over the edge. A few more messy thrusts and a modulated roar accompanied his climax while he pumped you full of cum. He pushed himself as deep as he could go and you felt his cum start to pour out of you, mixing with your own as it trailed down from the intersection of your bodies and onto the cold metal of the ships floor. You were both panting, his weight on you making it almost hard to breathe. With great difficulty you pulled your bound arms over top of him and dropped them back behind your head so he could get up, but he just laid on top of you while his cock slowly softened and released itself from you, sending a fresh wave of cum flooding down your legs.

Carefully he pushed himself up, grunting and groaning the whole way. He stumbled to his feet, resting an arm on one of the crates next to you to steady himself and the other on your quaking knee. You glanced down at him and was bemused to see his glossy black visor staring down at your dripping cunt. His hands made their way back to you, gently pushing at your folds to watch the delicious mess he had made trickle from you. You couldn’t hear much over the blood pounding in your ears, but you could have sworn he said something with fondness in a language you didn’t know.

Releasing you from his grasp he walked up your side, dragging his ungloved hand over your disheveled body, devouring your naked form with his visor like a starving man watches a feast. It was now that you remembered why you had let him fuck you in the first place, but your body was limp and your legs shaky. He ran his hands up your chest and over your exposed breasts, then up your arms, grabbing the magnetic cuffs he had put there. Great. Back to the carbonite chamber for me.

But instead your ears were graced with the metallic click of the unlocking mechanism and the restrictive cuffs clattered to the floor. You sat up immediately, rubbing at the bruises on your wrists and staring at your captor with mix of bliss and confusion.

“You’re letting me go?”

Mando was working to put his clothes back in order, the sound of belts and snaps shuffling into place echoed in the ships hull. “Last I heard you had fallen into a sarlacc pit on Tatooine. Can’t collect a bounty on the dead. Pity too, I’d heard you were such a great hunter.” The man who had been your captor was now leaning against the hull wall, his visor still locked on your mostly naked form. “You can go back to doing repairs on moisture farm equipment, or...” he tilted his helmet towards the back of the ship “You’re welcome to use the fresher.”

You blinked at his uncharacteristic generosity, though you supposed you didn’t actually know anything about him. Shifting off of the crate sent another gooey wave of cum dribbling down your legs and flushed your cheeks red. Maybe the fresher wasn’t a bad idea. The metallic man turned on his heel towards what you could only guess was the cockpit.

“Alright, but no peeking.” Like I could stop him. The thought made you laugh, it was his ship after all. You tossed what was left of your clothing onto the floor and made for the tiny alcove that passed as a bathroom and the even tinier shower; but the water was hot and that was enough. It had been so long since you had felt running water on your skin that you didn’t even hear the engines firing up and the rickety ship begin to take off. There was a bar of military grade soap on the ledge that you decided to help yourself to, it smelled surprisingly nice for something so plain. It smells like he does. You shook your head at the intrusive thought. It was just soap.

When you had finished your wash you stood in the fresher trying to squeegie water from your hair, now noticing the rumbling of the ship under your feet. Well, goodbye Tatooine I guess. The ugly dust ball had done you no favors, but this wasn’t exactly the way you had guessed you were getting off of it. He had set out to capture me, and he succeeded. He’ll probably grow tired of me and throw me in the carbonite anyway, so one way or another I would have ended up on this ship. You opened the shower door and saw something on the counter that hadn’t been there when you got in.

Two gray-brown towels were folded neatly on the fresher sink, as well as your clothing and something that looked like a black knit sweater. You hadn’t even heard the door to the fresher open, let alone him coming in to drop the items off.

“Sneaky Mando!” You hollered out into the darkness of the ship, though you guessed he probably couldn’t hear you from where he was at. The idea of him creeping in the bathroom to bring you a towel made you chuckle. “I told you not to peek!”

“I didn’t.” A modulated voice right in your ear made you jump backwards into the safety of the fresher.

“Fucksake man! Scare a girl to death why don’tcha?” You wrapped your towel tighter in indignation, surprised that your nudity would make you embarrassed after what had just happened between the two of you.

He sighed a long, exhausted sigh. “After you went rouge you took out three top tier bounty hunters and not once did you try to beg the guild to stop hunting you. There’s a pretty hefty price on your head, but I think your skills could be put to better use.” The Mandalorian cocked his head at you, “Think you can do that again?”

The audacity... You huffed and put your hands on your hips in a stance of mock fury. “So you kidnap me and now you’re going to put me to work? Great. Thanks pal. Really know how to take a girl out on a date, huh?”

He shrugged. “Do you want to go back to the carbonite freezer? I’m sure Karga would love to part with all those credits for your capture.”

No... No you did not want to go back to the freezer. You glared down at the floor with raised eyebrows, pretending like you were mulling over the idea like it was a job offer and not literally your only option.

“Alright... fine fine you talked me into it. Let’s go hunting, captain.” You snapped a damp hand out for him to shake, but he just shook his shiny metal dome in what you might have guessed was a laugh. He pushed himself away from the wall and climbed back up the ladder to the cockpit without a single word.

You watched as his boots disappeared into the ceiling and shook your head, wondering now if when you woke up this morning you had any idea that the day would take you on some wild bantha hunt though space with a well-hung mystery man. You tightened your towel and tucked back into the still steamy fresher to put on the clothes he had left you. The farming tunic was in a sad state, but the knit sweater looked snug and inviting. Pulling it over your damp hair your nose was flooded with that same delectable scent that you had gotten to indulge in earlier. When he was pressed into you.

“Hoo boy...” You finished getting dressed, rubbing your hair with one of the towels Mr. Mystery had left for you. I hope he’s got travel scrabble somewhere in this rust bucket, or you’re going to have to find some more... physical... activities to pass the time. Your lips turned up in a mischievous grin at the idea.

What a strange trip this will be.

Next ->

[red-talisman]

An unbetaed snippet of post-CQL canon Yunmeng reconciliation, which is mostly extremely morbid and blunt conversation after beating each other hard enough that they’re too tired for their usual conflicting modes of emotional avoidance.

EDIT: now edited and posted on AO3. :D

CW for past suicidal ideation. Part of my “let WWX express some of his cynical humor and creepiness more often” and “let WWX find out about JC’s own sacrifice goddamnit” agendas.

___________________

Jiang Cheng stares blankly into the trees, their trunks slowly disappearing in the deepening darkness of twilight. Wei Wuxian’s back is warm against his and heaving for breath just as heavily. He thinks his ankle might be broken, but Wei Wuxian is probably worse off.

“You’re an asshole,” Wei Wuxian says thickly.

“Hypocrite,” Jiang Cheng mutters without heat, and Wei Wuxian manages a snort between his gasps.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he adds, with an echo of the old Yiling Laozu in his voice, “You know that if you ever do something like that again, I’ll probably find a way to do something worse than I did before.”

“If I do what, save your life by pulling the same fucking sacrificial shit that you do?”

“I swear to every god out there that I will bring you back as a fierce corpse and kill you myself,” Wei Wuxian says in a pleasant, albeit still somewhat breathless, tone. “I will dismember your carcass and make Jin Guangyao look like a fucking amateur.”

“Good thing Mo Xuanyu’s core isn’t worth shit, then,” Jiang Cheng replies. All of his attention is focused on the feeling of his brother’s bones and muscles moving against his own spine.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause. Somewhere distant Jiang Cheng hears the panicked yells of what’s probably the juniors they left behind a few li back. Then Wei Wuxian sighs. “We’re really fucked up.”

Jiang Cheng takes his time considering and discarding several possible responses. His ankle hurts like a bitch; Mo Xuanyu’s core may not be worth shit, but damn if his asshole genius brother hasn’t figured out how to make the most of it anyway. He finally settles on a tired, “Yeah.”

The silence stretches on long enough that Wei Wuxian goes on, more quietly, “You and Shijie are the only reason I didn’t die in the Burial Mounds. The Wens grabbed me before I knew whether or not you’d even survived the core transfer.”

Jiang Cheng tilts his head just enough to glance briefly over his shoulder. “How did you survive the Burial Mounds?”

“Nope, no, I’m not putting that on you. Not even Lan Zhan knows. I can’t...I can’t do that.”

“Fine. Then tell me, is any of it going to come back and bite us in the ass at the worst possible moment?” he asks dryly.

Wei Wuxian snorts, humorless. “Nah. It’s all mine.”

“Would you tell me if it wasn’t?”

When Wei Wuxian hesitates for a few telling seconds, Jiang Cheng mutters, “You fucking asshole.”

“Yeah.” Wei Wuxian sighs again.

“You left me.”

“You didn’t need me.”

“Who the fuck said that?”

The knobs of Wei Wuxian’s spine are starting to press painfully into Jiang Cheng’s. Wei Wuxian snorts. “I was practically a fierce corpse myself when I dragged myself out of the Burial Mounds. Your position as sect leader was too precarious,” he says bluntly. “You were seventeen years old with no real family, a sister who was getting married off anyway, and an adopted brother who’d been controversial years before the war even happened and who was clearly half-mad and getting worse. And I...my mind never really left the Mounds, honestly.” He coughs, makes a wet sound, and spits. “If I stayed much longer I was going to end up dragging you back into Hell with me. I was a risk you couldn’t afford and I wasn’t going to destroy Yunmeng Jiang a second time.”

"Don’t pull that bullshit, Wei Wuxian.” Jiang Cheng is so, so tired. “Mother was wrong. You know Wen Chao was looking for any excuse. You’re as responsible for that as our shidi was for using a round kite.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t respond. Jiang Cheng makes a mental note to beat that nonsense out of him in the future, when he can lift his arms again and his ankle isn’t most likely broken.

But Jiang Cheng remembers what it was like to try turning weapons, human and sword alike, into tools of peace. There are still whole weeks of the Sunshot Campaign that are just smears of sense-memory: the cacophony of screams and curses; the reek of mass funeral pyres and the soft ash drifting through the air like black, silent snow; the startling warmth of being suddenly drenched in blood after Sandu sliced open another living human. Half the time he’d come back to himself laughing hysterically, unable to see anything through the tears on his face, and as the war dragged on, the tears eventually dried up. It had taken months afterwards to settle into the mindset of rebuilding for Lotus Pier. (If he’s honest with himself, he never really did settle there. There's always a part of him still dragging itself through mud made by blood spilled on battlefields and churned up by soldiers' boots.)

“Jin Ling’s the only reason I never actually killed myself after you died,” Jiang Cheng says. “...Don’t you ever tell him that.”

“Wait, what?” Wei Wuxian snaps.

“You saying I would’ve died without a core - it was never about not having a core, you idiot, not really.” Not to say that hadn’t hurt, and Jiang Cheng really doesn’t know how he would’ve managed life as a commoner. But there were still worse things to lose than a core, which had also just lost and was about to lose yet again. “I had a few ideas on how to do it, depending on where I was and what was available when I decided I might as well get it over with.” He huffs a brief laugh and idly rubs his thumb over Sandu’s hilt. “I thought poison might be a good option, if a little heavy-handed on the metaphor.”

“I’d be laughing,” Wei Wuxian says flatly, “if you weren’t talking about killing my little brother.”

“Am I?”

“You never stopped.”

The silhouettes of the trees start to blur in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “You left. You left, and everyone died, and somehow I was responsible for keeping our sister’s baby alive while the wolves tried to eat what remained of our sect from every direction. You left.”

“I never wanted to.”

“But you did.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe.”

“Because you chose strangers over family.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe,” Wei Wuxian hisses. Apparently they’re not so exhausted that they can’t get pissed after all. “I was hardly human anymore, Jiang Cheng. If I was going to die, then at least I’d die actually managing to save innocent people this time around and you would be safe from me.”

“I never wanted you to do that for me!”

“And I never wanted you to do that for me!”

The tension that had them both struggling to sit up straight suddenly breaks, and their backs collide again. Jiang Cheng grits his teeth against the urge to groan over the pain that ricochets through his chest and down his limbs. He hears a muffled yelp from behind him.

“You’re a damned fucking asshole and you’re my fucking brother and I hate you and don’t you ever assume you know what I need again, do you understand me,” snarls Jiang Cheng.

“You’re the damned fucking asshole and if you ever do that again then I will brand a reminder into your flesh right over the scar from the discipline whip,” Wei Wuxian snaps back, because he's never held back from fighting dirty if he thought it necessary.

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

They both stare into the dark forest, in opposite directions. It sounds like the juniors have finally picked up their tracks. Useless, the whole lot - Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian hadn't exactly been subtle in stepping aside for a private conversation that inevitably escalated, how could it take the kids this long?

"Those dumbasses had better not forget that we're on a night-hunt," he says.

"Like we did?" Wei Wuxian replies.

"You started it."

"Did not."

"No, I'm not doing this with you."

"Hey, you started this one."

"Shut the fuck up."

They fall silent again. A cold breeze picks up and Jiang Cheng feels Wei Wuxian shiver, pressing back just a little more firmly against Jiang Cheng for warmth, and he...leans back too. Just a little.

"I'm still fucking pissed at you," says Wei Wuxian.

"And I've got years' worth to pay you back for," says Jiang Cheng.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Sect Leader Jiang!" they hear. "Senior Wei!"

"If you don't show up for the mid-autumn festival," Jiang Cheng suddenly says, "I'll come drag you out of the Cloud Recesses by the heels."

"But the dogs - "

"Don't be an idiot. Jin Ling's dog is the only one allowed in Lotus Pier, you know that."

Well, come to think of it, Wei Wuxian probably doesn't know that, but whatever, now he does. Wei Wuxian is terrifyingly silent, but before Jiang Cheng can say something that will inevitably bring them back to throwing fists, he hears a quiet, "Yeah, okay."

"Do you think they killed each other?" they hear Lan Jingyi asking loudly. "I mean, Sandu Shengshou versus the Yiling Patriarch - who would win?"

"Don't be an idiot," retorts Jin Ling, and Wei Wuxian's body briefly shakes with a laugh. "My uncle, obviously."

"They're both your uncle, idiot!"

Jiang Cheng just sighs and lets his head fall back against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

[duskholland]

The Fame Game (Part Three) || Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Sleepovers are supposed to be fun, but perhaps not when they include your fake boyfriend. 

Word count ↠ 4.5k

Warnings ↠ Alcohol, some bad language, Tom’s shirtless? And also a lil bit jealous

A/N ↠ I decided that Y/N is in Stranger Things because... Joe Keery. You’re welcome. This was a fun part to write! Thank you so much to everyone that’s been loving on this series - makes my heart very very happy to know it’s being read and enjoyed :’) Please let me know what you think of this part! (This picks up directly after part two just with a pov shift)

Series masterpost

THREE: What’s Mine Is Yours (Y)

The studio lights burn your eyes painfully, and your throat has been stinging distantly of tequila ever since you took the first shot. 

Jimmy’s been sending you question after question, analysing and picking apart every aspect of your ‘relationship’ with Tom for the past five minutes. So far, you and Tom have answered with your stories aligned, and you thank yourself for having the stroke of genius to go over some essential details with him before the show. If you’d just come out here and winged it, as he had foolishly suggested, you know you would’ve tripped up by now. 

It’s all going as expected, until near the end of the interview when Tom’s words split through the air and shock you completely:

“Well, chemistry is a very important part of any relationship, Jimmy, and you know what they say: enemies make the best lovers.”

Enemies make the best lovers..?

Even as the conversation moves on, you feel the words lingering in your mind. Tom’s been playing the role of your doting boyfriend very well all evening, but there has been something a little too earnest about his eyes and his remarks, and it’s left you feeling… odd. Exposed, perhaps. He’s out here claiming that enemies make the perfect foundation to a loving relationship, and though you’re almost certain it was a throwaway comment, you can’t stop yourself from over-analysing it.

“Well, thank you to both of you for joining us tonight,” Jimmy says finally, dragging you from your stupor. “It’s been a pleasure, as always. I wish the happy couple all the best!” 

You’re nestled up very close to Tom on the sofa. His hand is on your knee, and you’ve got your arm wrapped around his side. You hadn’t discussed any of this beforehand, but you’d followed his lead when he’d first stretched out his palm. Casual displays of intimacy, according to your PR team, are everything, and it’s been almost nice to have his fingers resting on your leg, acting as a grounding presence. Any time you said something a little risky, he’d squeeze your knee - and you likewise would use your hand on his side to pinch him gently, like a reminder to stop talking whenever he came close to slipping up. 

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Tom says. He looks around to face you, his brown eyes warm and round. “We’ve had a great time.”

You nod along and pull your hand away from Tom’s side as you sit up a little straighter. “Yeah, it’s been amazing.”

Jimmy throws out a few final farewells, and the audience descends into applause. As the bright sign that reads LIVE flickers out, the cameras stop rolling. Almost immediately, you feel lighter. With a loud groan, you stretch your arms out behind your head and collapse back into the sofa, your posture sagging. Besides you, Tom mirrors you, his legs spreading and his knee knocking against yours as you glance over and share a cautious smile.

“That went well, didn’t it?” You ask quietly. Jimmy’s wandered off, and around you, people are rolling up cables and wires. You can feel the eyes of some of the audience on you, so you reach down to play with his hand. Tom lets you fiddle with his fingers, and you gulp as you draw your fingertips across his soft skin.

“Yeah,” Tom agrees. His eyebrows furrow together as he looks at you curiously. “What was the question you answered with Harrison?” 

You scoff. “That’s a secret.”

You’d almost died when you’d read the card. As much as you’d disliked the prospect of doing a shot, the question had read ‘Which of Tom’s friends would you consider dating?’. Though you feel no romantic attraction towards Harrison, he’s the only one of Tom’s friends you know. You couldn’t admit it to Tom live, because PR would have had your head, but you don’t particularly want to fess up now, either. 

Tom’s always been a bit weird about your friendship with Harrison, and you don’t want to add more strain to your relationship. Maybe a month ago you would’ve loved to have another thing to rub in Tom’s face, but now things are changing. Your relationship is beyond twisted as it is, and much to your surprise, you no longer feel the burning need to exacerbate that - not now you know you’ll be tied to his side for the next five months. For all you thrive off Tom’s discomfort, it’s starting to take a toll. 

Tom pouts, but there’s an intense heat to it. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You roll your eyes. “What was your first question?” You return. “The one that you replied to by saying I’m stubborn?”

Tom groans, and the illusion of him being a doting, sweet boyfriend shatters. A part of you is relieved he’s back to normal as he glares at you. Tom has been too nice to you this evening, and it was becoming a little unsettling.

“I won’t tell you mine unless you tell me yours,” he barters. Tom looks down at your joined hands and loops your fingers together, leaning in closer on the sofa so he can drop his voice. The strong waves of his cologne drift out over you, causing your mind to spin. “Oh, come on, girlfriend, we were getting on so well, just tell me? Please?” He even flutters his eyelashes.

You chuckle in the face of his charm. “No way.”

Tom pulls away, his jaw flexing. He drops your fingers dramatically. “Fine. Be like that.” He stands up quickly, but then he pauses and begrudgingly offers you a hand, his eyes skimming the busy room. He, like you, seems to recognise there is a time and place for your petty bickering. “Let me escort you backstage,” he says, voice dry and monotonous. 

You sigh heavily. “You’re so annoying,” you tell him, accepting his hand. He helps you up with a strong grip, your fingers tangling together easily. “I almost bought the act that you were actually a decent guy tonight, y’know?”

Tom keeps your hands together as you slowly walk backstage. “I almost bought yours,” he returns, his voice quiet. “I suppose we’re both good actors, aren’t we?”

You set your mouth in a firm line. “I suppose we are.”

You don’t see him for a while, and for that, you’re very grateful. For a few weeks, it seems PR are satisfied with a few teasing tweets here and there, and you enjoy the freedom of living Tom-free again. It really is quite disruptive, having to parade around with him, and lie when your friends and family question you about him. It’s quick to grow tiresome as you have to explain, over and over, that, no, you don’t hate him - love just happened!! Yeah, he’s great! Oh, you always thought there was something going on between us? Haha. Hah. That’s so funny. 

It’d be so much easier, you think, if you and Tom got along better. But you know the only way that’ll happen is if one of you apologies to the other, and you’re still too fucking angry about everything to let your walls come down. Your history spans three poisonous years, and you aren’t willing to start lowering your defences for fear of him using that against you. You’d rather suffer through several more months of torture with Tom than show any sort of regret or remorse. You will not be the first to place your cards on the table, which lands you in a difficult position because you know he isn’t the type to concede either. You’re so similar it almost hurts. 

About a month after the show, you’re on set when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you pick up the small device to see Rebecca’s name flashing over the screen. With a sigh, you quickly answer. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi Y/N, it’s Rebecca. I hope you’re doing well.” There’s a brief pause, then, “So, we need you to do something for us tonight.”

You reach up to pinch at the bridge of your nose. “Always straight to the point, aren’t you?” 

Your PR manager laughs. “Time is precious,” she reasons. “Anyway, we’ve been monitoring your socials. People find it odd that you’ve not posted anything with Tom, and we’ve realised that there is a shortage of photos of you both together.”

You hum. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ve ever had a photo together where it looks like we actually like one another.”

“Exactly. That’s a problem.”

“Great.”

“We’ve been in contact with Tom. He’s going to pick you up once you’re done on set, and then come and stay the night with you. You’ll be spotted entering your apartment together, and he’ll be seen leaving in the morning. Whilst you’re together, if you can try and take some photos, that’d be great. Try to build up a backlog of different shots, so you have some in reserves for the future.”

You throw your head back, biting back a dramatic groan. “He’s coming over tonight?” You clarify.

Rebecca sighs. “Yes, Y/N. Is that okay?” 

“I suppose.” 

“Perfect. He’ll pick you up from set at 5.”

The line disconnects and you put your phone away, trying not to think about how easily your quiet evening plans have been whipped away. You’re called back to set almost immediately, and that provides you with a perfect distraction. You slip on your mask, sinking into a different character, and you let all your worries and irritations fade away.

When Tom rocks up to set, you’re still filming. You catch him from the corner of your eye as you act opposite your co-star Joe Keery, carrying your banter perfectly. You love Joe - love the fact that both of you are wearing matching sailor costumes and somehow manage to rock them, and that your scenes always flow together very nicely. You’re having a great time together, and you feel sad when the director calls out a final Cut! and the cameras stop.

“Great scene, Y/N,” Joe compliments, reaching out to pat your shoulder. 

You smile back at him, nodding lightly. “You too!” You say. “I’m going to miss filming with you.”

Joe nods, whipping the sailor hat from his head and running a hand through his long hair. “Me too,” he agrees, mouth curving into a frown, “Who else would dress up in these stupid costumes with me and not make fun of me?”

You laugh, but before you can form a full reply, you feel a figure lingering behind you. You tilt your head and see Tom there, and then feel his warm hands slip around your waist. It all happens so quickly - one moment he’s whispering hi, the next his fingers are wrapped around you and yours are on his shoulders, then he’s kissing you quickly. It’s just a peck, but it completely blindsides you, and you’re still recovering when he pulls back and looks at Joe.

“Hi, mate, I’m Tom,” he greets, his voice artificial and loud. “Y/N’s boyfriend.”

You look between them, your heart hammering in your chest as you retract your hands and let them fall to your side. Tom immediately links your fingers together.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Joe replies, eyeing you sceptically. He raises his eyebrows slightly as he accepts Tom���s free hand, and they shake slowly.

“All good things, I hope, eh?” Tom replies, glancing over to you. You raise your eyebrows, trying to figure out what he’s doing, but he just grins slyly in response.

“Eh, sure,” Joe says. Your friend rocks back on his feet, and you’re briefly reminded of the many, many occasions where you’d stormed onto set and ran your mouth about Tom. “Well, I’m gonna go now. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He raises a hand.

“Bye, Joe. Have a nice night.” 

As soon as Joe’s slipped out of sight, you turn your attention to Tom.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, voice higher and quieter than usual. You pull your hand from his grasp, and it drifts up to your mouth, to where your lips are still feeling the aftershocks of the kiss. You stare at him through wide eyes. He’s in a lovely blue denim jacket today, and it contrasts brightly against his short styled hair and his deep brown eyes.

“Greeting my girlfriend?” Tom replies. He looks a little bashful as he folds his arms across his chest. “Is that a problem?”

Fuck, you hadn’t missed him at all.

“You kissed me,” you state. 

“Briefly,” he agrees, “We’re in public, Y/N. It would’ve been weird if I hadn’t done anything. Plus…”

“Plus?”

Tom grimaces. “It felt a bit odd to see you so close to him.” He pauses, his face the picture of discomfort. “I didn’t like it.”

“You have got to be kidding, Tom,” you mutter, eyes widening. “Are you seriously being like this because I touched his arm? He’s my friend, dickhead.” You scrunch up your nose, eyeing him sourly. “You don’t have any right to act territorially, Tom. We aren’t actually dating.” 

“Right.” Tom tentatively reaches up, and you let him place his hand on your cheek. It feels almost like an apology, and you find the lines of irritation melting from your face. As his fingertips gently trail across your cheekbone, your lips pull into a small smile. “I’m sorry if I took you off-guard,” he says, surprising you completely. You’d never thought you’d see the day he owned up to one of his actions. “I won’t kiss you again unless we talk about it first.”

You swallow drily, trying not to enjoy the way it feels to have his touch skating over your face so smoothly. 

“Good,” you agree. You rock back on your feet and sigh defeatedly. “We should go.”

It’s a little after 7pm by the time you get home. You make light, superficial conversation with Tom in the car as you put up with his chiding remarks about your driving, and by the time you walk through your front door, you feel frazzled.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors,” you mutter as you walk into your living room and take a view of the mess. 

“It’s fine.” Tom places his bag down on the sofa and looks around, greedy eyes taking in the details of your apartment. “It’s nice here.”

“Thanks.” You look around at your apartment, smiling quietly to yourself. The building is in downtown LA, right in the centre of things, and it wasn’t at all cheap, but over the years you’ve spent hidden away within the walls, you’ve made it feel like home. You’ve added character by tacking up a variety of posters, plants, and other fun keepsakes. “Do you want to order food? I don’t really want to cook.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tom pulls out his phone and glances up at you, face illuminated by the screen. “What do you want?”

“Thai?”

He pulls a face. “How about Chinese?”

You scrunch your nose up. “Thai?” You try again.

Tom bites his lower lip, his fingers moving over the screen. “Is it nice?” He asks you. 

“You’ve never had Thai before?”

He looks up at you, shrugging haplessly. “Nope.”

“Yes, it’s nice.” 

Tom surprises you by holding out his phone. “Pick something for me?” He asks. “Something good, though.”

You chuckle softly, accepting the phone and scrolling through the app. “I can’t promise you’ll like it, but I think you should.” You add a few things to the order before tossing it back. You dig your hands into your jean pockets and hesitate. “I’m gonna take a shower. Do you want me to show you the guest room?” You ask, eyeing up the hefty bag Tom had brought with him. 

“That would be nice.”

You’re quick to show Tom his room, and then you’re off through the shower. You’d been called to set for 7am, and the hot, pulsing water soothes away the tired ache in your muscles. The scent of fresh lavender clings to your skin as you dry yourself off and then collapse into a loose pair of leggings and a nice hoodie. You feel more like yourself as you stare into your reflection in the mirror now. You love acting, and you love being someone else, but you feel safest as you are right now: bare, authentic, yourself.

You’re so relaxed that you almost forget Tom’s staying over until you walk into the living room and see him sprawled out on one of your sofas, phone in hand. He cranes his face back to look at you as he hears you, his eyes drifting lazily over your figure.

“Food will be an hour,” he tells you sadly. 

“Great,” you grumble. You walk into your kitchen, looking over at him from across the open counter. “Do you want any wine?”

“Fuck yeah.” 

You snicker as you start to pour out two glasses of rosé. “So how do you want to go about taking these photos?” You ask tentatively. 

“Well, they made me bring a few different outfit changes,” Tom starts, speaking slowly, “So I guess we should just… Move about a bit and take some pictures together.”

It’s awkward as you walk back into the living room and hand him his wine glass. “Cheers,” you mutter, tipping the rim of the glass against his. A piercing ring fades across the room, and you share a despondent look with Tom.

“Cheers indeed, love.”

It’s uncomfortable until the wine kicks in, at which point the staged photographs come together a lot easier. 

You start off with a few simple candids around your apartment. You take some of Tom pretending to make some tea, and then of him standing out on your balcony overlooking the city. He changes out his shirts and hoodies every few shots, as instructed by PR, so you’ll have a more comprehensive selection of photos to post in the future. It grows quite amusing after a while as you both try to out-Vogue the another, and once the air is full of your endless laughter, you find yourself relaxing. 

When he’s satisfied with the number of candids he’s got of you, Tom suggests you get a little closer and try to get some more intimate, couple-y pics, “‘for the ‘gram, yeah?” This is when you run into a problem.

“I haven’t done this in so long,” you find yourself admitting as you sit beside Tom in your bed. You’ve slipped into a pyjama shirt, and Tom’s settled beside you. 

“Had an incredibly handsome actor in bed with you?” He returns, eyes sparkling mischievously. This evening he’s been very cheeky with you, and you have to admit you’re warming up to it. 

“Haha,” you say drily, rolling your eyes. You puff up your pillows and settle against the headboard. “Taken any photos with a romantic interest,” you clarify.

Tom pulls off his shirt easily, balling it up and throwing it across the room. You startle at this sudden action, your eyes drifting down to the defined lines of his abs. Tom is stacked. His lips curve into a smirk.

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” he teases, causing you to scoff. He opens up his arms, and you settle into them gently, aiming for a sleepy, lazy, we-woke-up-like-this vibe. Your head finds his chest, and your cheek presses against his warm skin comfortably. “Smile.”

He takes a few photos of you together, posing as a lovestruck couple, and as the seconds pass by, you melt further into him. You hadn’t realised how cold you were until Tom opened his arms and let you in, but now it’s as if you were freezing before the first touch. He’s got his hand resting on your side, and you feel his mouth linger above your forehead, hesitating. 

“Can I kiss your face?” He mumbles softly, “Might make it look more realistic.”

You hum quietly, closing your eyes as you wrap yourself further around his torso. “Sure. Can I kiss your chest?” You ask boldly, spurred on a little by the woozy heat that smothers your mind.

You hear Tom’s breath hitch, and find yourself holding yours until he mutters, quietly, “Yeah.”

You let him have his fun first, and try to remain as nonchalant as possible as you feel his lips fluttering out across your forehead. He leaves a delicate trail of kisses from temple to temple, caressing your skin slowly, softly, with his warm mouth. You realise with a soft epiphany that you don’t mind being in this position: Tom’s peppering your face in gentle kisses, holding you close in his bare arms - and it’s quite nice. And maybe… Maybe he’s quite nice, too. Sometimes.

Tom’s hand smoothes over your hair, and you tilt your head until you’re able to scatter a few short kisses across his chest. You can hear the small clicks coming from his phone, and you really drag it out, enjoying the press of his supple pale skin against your mouth. It warms you up, sets a tingle flaming through your lips. 

“There,” you say, finally dragging yourself away from him. “Do you think we’ve done enough?” 

Tom hums, watching you closely as you sit up from his chest. His arm retracts from your side, and the air between you clears. “Yeah. I’ll send them to PR and see what they say.” He messes around on his phone for a few minutes, but you stay exactly where you are - shrouded in duvet and blankets and lingering near his body heat. Your eyelids flutter shut as you relax, your peace lasting until he asks, slowly, “When was the last time you dated anyone?”

You pry open an eye, looking at him curiously. “Eh, it’s been a while. Almost a year since there was anyone serious.” You look up at him, your head resting easily on the pillow. “Why?”

“Just realised I don’t know that much about you, really,” Tom replies. He slips down the bed until he’s lying beside you, and both of you move onto your sides to face one another. He looks quiet and unassuming like this - tufts of brown hair pushed messily around his forehead, with a warm expression hanging from his lips. It’s an odd look to be directed towards you. 

“Yeah,” you hum. You let a small smile find your lips. “I don’t know much about you either.”

The sheets rustle as Tom moves a little closer. “Do you… want to know more about me?” He asks gently.

You swallow. You can taste the wine on your tongue, and you wonder why you can only seem to get along with him when you’re tipsy. 

“Yeah,” you admit. “Maybe it’d be easier to do this if we weren’t always so…”

“Horrible?”

You bite your lip as you nod. “Yeah. We can be pretty mean.”

“Why do we do that?” Tom muses, his cheeks nice and flushed.

“I don’t know.”

Tom reaches out beneath the covers, and his hand finds yours softly. He links your fingers together, and you look into his eyes intently. You find only warmth and sincerity staring back at you. 

“Maybe we should try to be less hostile to each other,” he suggests. 

Briefly, your mind rewinds to that day at the park, all those weeks ago, and how Tom had dramatically announced that the thought of being your friend repulsed him. It surprises you to hear this change of heart, but you realise you’re in the same boat. A lot has changed since then. 

“Okay,” you find yourself agreeing. “I’d be down to try that.”

“Okay.”

You share a small smile, and it seems to last a lifetime. For a while, it’s just you and Tom, buried in your bed together, hands clasped, breathing in sync, and it’s nice.

Eventually, food comes, and you convince Tom to watch one of your favourite films in your living room. You settle on separate sofas, but you’re able to make some light-hearted conversation. He even jokes around with you. It feels nice - but also too good to be true. 

As you sober up, you find yourself looking at him sceptically. No matter how welcome the thought that things between you are slowly mending might be, you don’t trust Tom, and that’s not about the change overnight. He’s an actor, and you wouldn’t put it past him to be pulling your leg - drawing you into this rouse, only later to turn around and pull the rug from beneath you, and laugh at you for believing that he’d want to be your friend. Your perception of him has been skewed so negatively for so long that it’s hard to believe he’s actually being nice - even if on your end, the softening is genuine. 

But you let yourself believe it, just for the night. You throw popcorn at him, and laugh together, and finish the bottle of wine over dinner. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tom calls out, resting up against the door of the spare room. He’s caught you coming from the bathroom. He’s shirtless again, grey sweats hanging low from his hips, and you can’t stop your eyes from shamelessly tracing the curve of his v-line. “Not going to give your boyfriend a goodnight kiss?”

You roll your eyes, but you find yourself walking over to him. “You’re so fucking cheeky, Tom,” you mutter, amused. You press your hand to his shoulder and lean up to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight,” you say, eyeing him firmly.

Tom’s eyes dance with a thousand different emotions, and he dives in to kiss your cheek in return. “Night, love.”

You raise a hand in farewell and turn away before he can see the huge, embarrassing grin on your face. 

When you wake up, it’s to silence and a slightly sore head. Your clock reads 8.22 AM, and you amble towards the kitchen. 

You decide to extend towards Tom an olive branch - a cup of tea - to solidify your newfound… friendship? Amicable arrangement? You don’t know how to label it other than a loosening of your mutual disdain, but you know that whatever the dynamic was last night, it’d been nice. The idea that there’s more to him than the cocky, fronting mask he sometimes wears is pleasant. 

So you make him a cup of tea, and then tentatively walk across to your spare room. You knock quietly, hear nothing, and then gently push your way inside.

The room is empty. Tom is gone. He’s left the bed unmade.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, scrunching your eyebrows together. You glance around and notice he’s taken all of his things, and then walk back into your room to check your phone - no new messages from him.

You sit down on the edge of your bed and sip at the tea you’d painstakingly poured for him. 

Maybe it was too good to be true, and you’d just been stupid to think one tipsy evening together was the start of something new. He’s clearly undergone no change of heart if he’s managed to waltz out without as much as a text goodbye. You feel stupid and angry, but above all disappointed. 

Because for a moment - a brief, hopeful moment - you’d imagined being Tom’s friend, and the prospect had made you feel happy.

↠ NEXT PART

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[mrsniallhoran505]

A Good Girl, Through And Through

******Quick note here. This was a dream that I had not to long ago. There are some descriptors of the male in the smut but its left open for you to add in who ever you want to imagine... for me it happened to be Jensen Ackles/Dean Winchester. (so I will tag it as such) I couldn’t tell which given the house was the one J&D showed on AD but he was dressed like Dean and sounded like him. so feel free to think of who ever you want... and please let me know if you want me to post more of the crazy ass smut dreams I have. Now please enjoy A Good Girl, Through and Through.******

"Strip." He commanded. I didn't hesitate to do as I was told. It's what I've been hired for after all. I took my clothes off and dropped them in a pile beside me.

"Over to my desk," he nodded to it in the corner. I walked over, my heels clicking on the tile floor. "Bend forward and put your hands flat on the desk, legs spread." He downed the rest of his drink and placed the empty glass on the table.

I complied with what he asked of me. I wanted to speak, but I wasn't given permission. He was tall, broad, and strong. His voice rough and deep, making me wetter with each syllable that passed his plump lips.

I didn't realize he moved till I felt his hand on my hip. Normally this is where the guy would tell me something along the lines of, "scream as loud as you want baby." Or even, "my name is… scream it for me."

He said nothing as he got to his knees. He placed both hands low on my ass and spread me. Before I could even brace myself I felt his tongue against me. Licking from my clit, over my entrance, and back again. I moaned softly, pushing back when his tongue passed over my entrance again.

He continued to lap at me in slow long strokes. I was dripping with his spit and my own juices. Finally after what seemed like hours he pushed his tongue into me, swirling it around as he brought his large callused hand down on my ass.

I jumped and let out a louder moan. He tongue fucked my cunt a few times before moving down to suck my clit, using his tongue to rub it quickly. My legs started to shake, my moans growing in volume. He moaned against me and smacked my ass again.

He was eating me out like a starved man given his favorite meal. All I could do was hold on and moan. Just when I thought he'd let me cum he pulled away. I wanted to look back at him, see what he was doing. See my juices smeared on his lips and beard but I couldn't. I refused to break the pose he had me in.

Finally he moved again. He pushed his tongue into my cunt one last time before pulling back and spitting on my entrance. I wasn't a fan but if he wanted it, I'd gladly take it. He used the spit as extra lube as he pushed two fingers into me.

I clenched around his fingers, moaning loudly. I wanted to beg for more, let him know I could take it, but the words died on my lips as he started fingering me fast and hard. My body rocked each time his fingers thrust in.

I felt them twisting inside me, pressing at different spots. He was looking for my gspot and he was close to getting it. He leaned forward and dragged his tongue over my asshole making my hips push back again, this time his fingers found my gspot and I cried out.

It was all too much. I nearly broke my role and spoke, but he started fingering me fast, keeping his fingers pressed to my gspot. His tongue was now working its way inside my ass and all I could do was let out high pitched moans and whines.

He knew I was close but he didn't give me permission so I held off. Part of me started to wonder if he remembered he had to give me permission.

When I reached my breaking point he pulled back and stood up. "Turn around and get on your knees." He watched my movement as I stood and faced him before lowering to my knees. The tile was hard and it would hurt my knees but I would never disobey or argue. I was a good girl through and through.

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue." I did as I was told, tilting my head back to look at him. He leaned down and shoved two fingers in my cunt again. I moaned as he swirls them inside me. When he pulls them out he stands up straight and looks at me.

"Do you have a gag reflex?" He asks and I shake my head no. His brow went up quizzically. "Let's test that." The fingers he used to finger fuck me were now being pushing into my mouth. My juices still coating them. He made sure to press on my tongue as he slid them deeper.

He passed where the gag reflex would be but kept going till he felt my throat. My eyes fluttered closed and I moaned around his fingers. He looked at me curiously.

"You like that?" He asks and I nod yes. "Keep your eyes open, on mine." I quickly snap my eyes open and lock stares with him. He starts to finger my mouth, keeping a heavy weight on my tongue. I moan softly, fighting against closing my eyes.

"Good girl." He pulls his fingers back and leans down to spit in my mouth. I hold still waiting for his order. "Swallow it." He growls and I do as I'm told. "Open up, tongue out." I resume my position.

He takes his hard cock out and if I had to guess he was a good nine inches, maybe ten. He was thick from base to tip. I'd be split in half but I'd enjoy every centimeter.

"Let's see how well you like this." He taps my tongue with his cock head before pushing in slowly. "Careful of the teeth sweetheart, don't need my cock to be grated." I tuck my lip over my top teeth, the bottom was covered by my tongue.

He started thrusting once his tip hit the back of my throat. I moan around him, loving the feel of his thick meat in my mouth. Every few thrusts he'd push deeper, eventually he was fucking my throat, gripping my hair to guide me on his cock.

I let him use me. Let him do as he pleased as long as I could take it. When it became too much I gave him the signal. He pulled out and let me breathe. When I was ok again I took back up my pose letting him know I could continue. He didn't waste time, burying his cock in my throat.

I kept my eyes locked on his as he fucked my throat raw. Moaning around him as he got satisfaction and my oral fixation got satisfaction. "That's it babygirl, swallow my cock." He pushed in as far as he could before reaching down to squeeze my throat with his hand. My eyes watered and my throat constricted around him but I could take it so I held on.

He let out a low, throaty moan that I knew vibrated in his chest. I wanted to run my hands up over his stomach to his chest to feel it. I wanted to climb him and have my way but this wasn’t about me, this was about him. I was his to use and I’d do as I was hired to.

He slowly pulled out till just the tip was left in my mouth. He looked down at me and gently stroked my cheek. “Look at you… Drooling over my cock like a bitch in heat.” He makes a tsking sound like he was scolding me but I could see the lust in his eyes, feel his cock pulsing against my tongue. “Stand up.” He growled.

I stood up and licked my lips, my eyes still on his. He pulled me close and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to my lips. It was sweet and held a promise to care for me. When he pulled back he looked me over. “I’ve barely touched you and you already looked well fucked.” He cups my cheek and runs his thumb over my bottom lip; which was red and swollen from his rough face fucking. “On the couch, hands and knees.” He nudged me to the couch gently. I nodded and walked over. I get on the couch and take the asked position.

I could hear him get himself another drink, hear the ice hit the glass. When he walked over he placed the glass on my back. “Don’t drop that.” He stepped into view so I could watch him strip. Anytime I looked too relaxed he would stroke his cock reminding me what was to come. When he was naked I could see just how much of a man he was. He wasn’t just some muscle head that was sculpted abs and hard muscle. He looked strong like he could bench press me and not struggle one bit but also like hugging him wouldn’t leave me bruised. He was everything I wanted and more.

“How are you with cold?” He smirked and walked behind me lifting his glass. I was asked a direct question but it wasn’t one he wanted me to answer. He had the answer. He read it. I figured he’d tease me with the cool glass of his drink so when I felt his cold tongue press against my cunt I jumped slightly but relaxed and moaned loudly. He kept his tongue and breath cool with an ice cube in his mouth as he ate me out. I was dripping again, I could feel it down my thighs. My hands dug into the couch as I tried to fist them.

When the ice melted he put the glass down and got to his knees behind me. He teased his cock head between my folds. With how cold he left me I could feel heat coming from him and it made me shiver. “I’d relax if you don’t want me splitting you in half.” I could hear the smirk in his voice. This would normally have me rolling my eyes but with him I did as I was told.

I took a deep breath and relaxed. As I let the breath out he pushed into me making me moan low. I could feel every single inch of him. He was the biggest thing I’ve had in me and it scared me a bit how easily he fit. Soon he bottomed out and I swear he was in my womb. If I looked down I’d probably see the outline of his cock in my stomach.

He gripped my hips right where they curved so his grip wouldn’t slip. He was a pro. He guided me forward a bit then held me still as he pulled out. I whimper slightly feeling empty without him. I hear him chuckle. “I’m not going anywhere babygirl.” He pushed back in and pulled me back on his cock. I got what he wanted from me. He wanted me to meet his thrusts. On the next one I did it and he moaned in approval.

We found a rhythm working together to get off. Each thrust it seems like he was somehow getting deeper, making sure no other man would suffice. He was ruining me. I dipped my hips slightly and he kept fucking me harder, now his cock dragged over my gspot each time making me whine and moan for him.

“Look at you taking my cock like your cunt was made for me.” He growled and smacked my ass. I moaned again wanting to tell him I was made for him, I was made to be fucked by his cock. But I couldn’t. After tonight, I’d never see him again. Not like this.

He pulled out and sat back. “On your back, I wanna watch you take my cock.” I did as I was told, spreading my legs for him. He leaned down and spit on my cunt before using his cock to spread it around. He pressed his cock head to my entrance and watched as he started to sink into me. I arched my back, pressing my head into the couch. I moan, gripping the couch tight in my hands. “That’s it, scream for me, babygirl.” he groans as he starts to fuck me hard and deep. His hips slamming into mine making my body rock.

I cried out, enjoying nothing more than being used by him. Enjoying bringing him so much pleasure. I enjoyed my pleasure too but the look of pure lust and ecstasy on his face made it so much more worth the bruises and soreness I know I’ll feel tomorrow.

“Do you wanna cum, babygirl? Do you wanna cum all over my thick cock?” He said it in such a teasing way I almost wanted to say no but I didn’t. I nodded my head, letting him know how bad by tensing up and moaning so loud my voice cracked.

“Cum for me.” He growled and started rubbing my clit in fast circles. I saw sound and tasted colors as my orgasm took over. My whole body tensed till it lifted off the couch, a cry of his name the only thing heard in his big lake house. He kept thrusting never once letting me forget his cock. When I finally couldn’t take it he pulled out and lowered me back to the couch. He crawled over me till he was on my chest then jacked his cock. I leaned my head up to wrap my lips around the tip. I sucked and licked the few inches I could get till he came. Spurt after spurt of his hot cum hitting my tongue and throat.

When he was done he pulled out and had me show him before allowing me to swallow. I laid back as he got up and got dressed. “The money is on the counter… A car is waiting, whenever you’re ready.” With that he left me to recover and see myself out.

[kuroosweakness]

Lia, your Kuroo headcanon are literally the only thing keeping me sane right now. He’s such a comfort character of mine. Before I really got into Haikyuu and started it, I thought Kuroo was super cute. Then I saw his personality and he was the second character I fell in love with. Here’s some headcanons for your service :)

If you drink coffee or tea, he has the way you make it down to an art. He knows exactly how you like it, but somehow his is better. He’s doesn’t add or lessen anything, he claims it’s because it’s made with love (he’s so cheesy I swear)

I firmly believe he quotes pride and prejudice. He’ll recite the iconic love confession from the movie at the most random times. One time it was while you were in the bathroom, he has no shame

If he notices you’re listening to a certain song over and over, he’ll add it to his secret playlist named after you

I think he would coordinate outfits. Instead of matching, it’d be opposite. For example, you’re wearing green pants and a brown shirt, Kuroo has on brown pants and a green shirt (this also applies to attending parties post timeskip, he 100% subtly matches you)

He actually knows how to do laundry, and if you’re busy or out of your shared apartment he’ll clean, fold, and put away your clothes. It’s something simple that he enjoys doing, and he knows it’ll help

When you’re stressed over school/work, he always brings you hot tea (or your favorite drink, Kuroo prefers un-caffeinated drinks at night) and gives you a kiss on the temple. I’m talking, lips on your temple for a GOOD 5 seconds before he deems it good enough to step away. He’ll also drape a blanket across your shoulders, even if it isn’t cold

He steals your stuff, you steal his. It’s only fair.

Kenma bought Kuroo a rooster plushie as a joke, but it was actually super cute so he kept it. Kuroo then buys an animal plushie that reminded him of you. You keep the rooster, and he keeps your animal when you’re away. Yes, even as full grown married adults he brings the plushie to business trips

I feel like Kuroo would want to wear an engagement ring too, everyone would assume he’s married because men don’t typically wear them; he likes that it’s unconventional, but a good kind

Always touching you when you sleep. Canonly he sleeps with two pillows smooshing his head, but he’ll keep an arm extended that’s loosely around you. Or he’ll have your butts touching, or his leg against your leg etc. (personally, I like my sleeping headcanon of Kuroo because it incorporates how he legitimately sleeps. But if you need it, he’ll 100% hold you or cuddle you however you want)

I feel like he’d want to shower with you. After dating for a long time, he’ll be a little stiff but eventually he loves it. He’ll come up behind you, wraps his arms around you and put his chin on your shoulder. Sometimes he’ll play music, he’ll serenade you with the periodic table song and other love classics like “can’t take my eyes off you”

He reads to you, he’s sitting against the headboard with you laying between his legs. Back against his chest, lowly speaking into your ear. He also LOVES when you read to him. Depending on your sitting situation, the cuddling positions will differ. But he’s always in front of you

“Everybody talks” reminds me of him. This song was playing when I was in the car with my friend, windows down, sunny gorgeous day. You guys would dance and sing to this together, it’d play at your wedding

His love for you NEVER falters. No matter what age you started dating, his eyes are always filled to the brim and exploding with love and admiration

I WENT NUTS IM SO SORRY THEY JUST KEPT COMING. CAN YOU TELL IM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN SO BADLY. ANWAYS HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT I LOVE YOUR WRITING YOURE REALLY COOL :)

OMG !! LOOK AT ALL THESE HEADCANONS 😭 (i just know i’ll come back and reread while being all giddy :’D thank you so so much for sending and typing these out, ur my savior <33 

ahhhh i thought kuroo was an okay side-character at first but now here i am, making my whole blog dedicated around him lmaoo 

“made with love” HE WOULD BE THE CHEESIEST GUY EVER (not that anyone’s complaining, of course) 

omgg him quoting pride and prejudice??? lemme collective my heart jdkslfkjdf “in the bathroom” he has zero shame lmaoo 

him making a whole playlist dedicated to you :(( and when he hasn’t heard you listen to a song in a while, he’ll be like “remember when you used to listen to...” 

COORDINATED OUTFITS >>> 

YES YES YES 

him helping you out with chores :’ he’s so genuine and sweet i swear- 

make it more than 5 seconds pretty pls <33 (thanks for the scenario that’ll run in my head everytime i study now-) 

equality. sharing is caring. 

OMG THE PLUSHIE PART !!!!! 😫🥺 pls your headcanons are making me so happy yet sad at the same time- what are these strong emotions i’m feeling :’ 

him wearing his engagement ring >>>>>>>> (and so everytime he looks at his hand, it’s a small pleasant reminder of you) 

showers with him would be so light-hearted and intimate :’ IMAGINE HIM SHAMPOOING YOUR HAIR bye- 

yes, pls serenade us <3 

touching when asleep next to each other!!!!! pls he would lay his whole leg on you and not claim to be responsible when you wake up half numb- 

i love your headcanon too!!!! incorporating canon stuff into headcanons >>> you can link pinkies with him when sleeping <3 

him reading to you while cuddling D: words can’t describe how jealous i am of y/n 

OMG YES EVERYBODY TALKS DEFINITELY GIVES OFF KUROO VIBES pls he would dance and sing with you in front of the bathroom mirror for hours :’ 

IT’S YOUR HAPPY SONG! 

and now my heart feels really warm and fuzzy :’ i want to hop straight to bed for these scenarios to pop up in my dream. again, thank you so much for sending all these in, I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM (and am jealous of every single one of them) if you have more, pls pls send them in at ANY TIME of the day !! 

i hope you have the best day >:( and make sure to take care of yourself! <3 

[fernsehn]

I think my flatmate forgot that tomorrow's my birthday. We've only been living together for 6 months or so..so.... Actually during the first two weeks of this month I was super afraid that I had forgotten her birthday because I remembered that it was somehow in the vicinity of mine. I constantly was like "fuck, what if yesterday was her bday and I just forgot and she didn't say anything?" This post is a serious "poor me"-thing so, sorry for that haha. Just felt like sharing. If I'm really honest with myself, it makes me very sad. It's just that she's gonna be the only person I'll physically interact with tomorrow. I only have one other friend in this city (a person I feel very close to and that I've only known for two years and seen about four or five times in that timeframe/in my entire life) who won't even be in town. People will call and write, yeah sure. When they won't think that I'll be too busy with work. But they won't be here. Also, I'm sick. I've been having symptoms for a week but never had a positive test, so it's probably just a normal cold but it still kinda sucks. I won't be able to go out? We won't be able to go out. I also had to cancel the birthday party for saturday (no big deal I'll reschedule it it would have been to cold to do it in the garden anyway). And one of our meetings from hell will be tomorrow morning. Like...those meetings I'm and we all are always afraid of because we decide on who will be a guest on our show and we are listening to the pre-interviews we did and my boss seizes the opportunity to be a fucking dick and elegantly demean us, etc... I swear to god: I've decided not to let him torment me tomorrow. To not let it get to me. And I also don't WANT to need my flatmate to remember my birthday but.... I don't know. It just feels sad. And I think it's good to feel sad about it because it IS sad...? It kinda makes me think back to my first quarantine birthday that I spent here with my former flatmate. The musician I had a crush on but kinda de-crushed on when he tried to find weird pseudo-intellectual ways to rationalize racism? Who didn't understand that Handmaid's Tale was a feminist? Who probably didn't really know what feminism was, bless that poor boy. Anyway. He was so so cute that day. He cooked me lunch 🥺🥺. And we had drinks the night before. And ...it was just really nice. ETA - I was meaning to add something and forgot: What I wanna take away from this is, that I desperately need to make changes. Whatever those changes may look like. But I always feel that when I experience profound sadness and am lucky enough to be able to change anything about my circumstances: I should just do that. Let's hope it will work out and I'll have enough courage.

[ghostofstudentspast]

I didn’t plan it

Remus x Reader

Hey guys! This is my first ‘angsty’ piece on here and I was all up in my feels about it so I hope you enjoy 😭💕

You were perched on the edge of the bathtub in your small flat. The flat you shared with your boyfriend Remus. After Lilly and James’ deaths he hadn’t been the same, he was flighty, quick to shut people out and had more trouble controlling his monthly problem.

It had been a long year since that fateful day when the love of your life had lost his best friends. All of his best friends. The only thing he had left was you now. He worked odd jobs tirelessly and so did you, keeping busy and keeping distracted from the pain. He’d wake up in a cold sweat most nights and you’d be there to run a hand through his hair and rub his back until his breathing calmed down and he could fall asleep again.

Back in your school days you had always helped the boys with Remus after a bad change. You had potions and ointments and plenty of chocolate to help him recover from his furry little problem. He would wake up in your dorm room with your head on his heart and somehow things wouldn’t seem so bad anymore.

These days he took on his transformations alone and it took a toll on him. New scars littered his body, often hiding them from you with bulky sweaters. You tried to talk to him, to let him help you like you used to but he had shut out the world.

So here you sat, on the cold rim of the bathtub, staring at the pregnancy test in your hand with tears steaming down your face. It was the third one you’d taken, all with the same little plus sign staring back at you. You loved Remus and you knew you would love this child but you couldn’t tell him. He was fragile enough as it is and you couldn’t add to that with the idea of a baby.

You quickly stuffed the positive test at the bottom of the bin and covered it with some tissues. You looked at yourself in the mirror and bit your lip to stop more tears from escaping. Splashing some water in your face, you collected yourself and got ready to face the day.

You quietly made your way to the kitchen to whip up some breakfast and get ready to go to work. You had been posted in saint Mungo’s as a healer for the past two years now and you needed to be alert for your job.

“Mornin’ Y/N,” Remus appeared at your side and kissed your cheek softly. He was aware of how down he’d been lately and how much of a toll it was taking on you. But he just couldn’t burden you with his anxieties and his pain after a full moon anymore. You had your own pain to deal with and your job was exhausting, he saw it in the bags under your eyes and the way you held yourself these days.

“Morning,” your voice was quiet, less cheerful than usual. Regardless of the situation you were always the sunny one between the two of you. Chipper and warm because you knew that Remus needed a little happiness in his life. “breakfast is on the counter, I have to go.” you muttered and grabbed your bag off the floor and made to step into the fireplace.

“Hey, are you okay?” you felt Remus grip your wrist lightly, tugging you back towards him gently. You turned to face him and refused to meet his gaze. Your eyes were red, your face blotchy, you’d clearly been crying.

“I’m fine Rem, just late,” you kissed his cheek and quickly darted into the floo. With a “Saint Mungos” you disappeared.

Remus felt nauseous, he pushed his eggs around his plate with a frown on his face. We’re you mad at him? Did something happen to you? Why wouldn’t you talk to him? He paced around the kitchen and waved his wand to clean up the dirty dishes. He suddenly became uncomfortably aware of how much he’d been holding back from you lately. How your frequent hugs had turned into hesitant touches. Your loving rambles had become quiet good nights. His hands rubbed his eyes as he realized how he’d shut you out over the past few months.

So caught up in his own grief he hadn’t even realized what he’d been doing to you in the process. Yet you’d stayed by his side. He didn’t understand why. And now he was convinced he was about to lose you.

“Shit,” he swore and slid down the wall to sit on the cold kitchen floor. Tears in his eyes he though about how he’d give anything to ask James for advice right about now. A hug from Lilly. A slap on the back and a snarky comment from Sirius. They weren’t there anymore, he couldn’t change that. But you were still with him, he could still fix that.

Stepping out of the fireplace into your flat you let out a soft sigh and brushed the dust from your work robes. It had been a long day, filled with some of the most draining magic you could perform. On top of that, you still hadn’t had time to process this morning. To your surprise you were greeted by Remus in your small kitchen, food laid out and ready on the table, candles lit and floating around the room. He was holding out a bouquet of flowers to you with a guilty look on his face.

“Remus?” you asked hesitantly as he stepped forward and laid the flowers on the table.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, you could see the tears brimming in his eyes as he ran a hand through his sandy hair in frustration, “I didn’t know, I didn’t realize I was shutting you out. I-I’ve been selfish and I didn’t think you’d want to deal with my problems on top of work and your own grief. I’ve been an idiot and I don’t deserve you. Y/N these last few months have been the worst of my life and you’ve done nothing but be a bright light in the darkness and I took that for granted.” He stepped closer again and gently took your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. His touches were hesitant, unsure if you would pull away.

“Rem all I wanted was to be there for you. I just wanted to hold your hand and make you tea and hug you when you’re sad. I wanted you to share the burden because it’s both our burdens. The boys were your family and I can’t replace that but I want to support you,” You hiccuped as tears streamed down your face, “you’re right, you were an idiot, but you’re my idiot and I just wanted you to see me.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he choked out and wrapped you up in his arms stroking your hair gently. “I’m sorry baby, I promise I’ll try harder. I’ll share my thoughts with you, I’ll hold you when you’re down, I’ll take care of you this time. You are my family.” at the word baby you lost it again and pulled back shaking your head.

“Rem-“ you whispered through your tears and his heart dropped through the floor. You refused to look him in the eye and couldn’t get out any more words.

“Please, give me another chance,” he begged softly, holding your face in his hands.

“Remus...” you took a deep breath, “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes glazed over as he stared at you in shock, mouth slightly open. You pressed your nails into the palm of your hands, waiting for his reaction as he took his time to process the words that had left your mouth.

“I-it’s mine right?” he asked with wide eyes as his eyes flicked between your belly and your face.

“Yes it’s yours!” you let out and exasperated cry. Your hands wiped your hot tears away as you looked up at the ceiling begging the tears to stop.

“Our baby,” he whispered and engulfed you in a hug again, “our baby!” he cheered as he picked you up and spun you around. You couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh as you started crying again, happy tears this time.

“You’re not mad?” you asked softly as he put you down again, pulling the both of you onto the soft couch in the living room. He perched you on his lap, gently rubbing your back as you looked at him, concern evident on your features.

“Why would I be mad darling?” he smiled up at you, “I love you.”

“I know but I thought maybe you wouldn’t want...” you trailed off chewing on your lip. A frown seemed permanently etched onto your face, “I thought maybe you didn’t want kids,“ you said softly.

“I’ll admit I didn’t plan on having kids, definitely not so soon. But I look at you and think, if our baby is anything like it’s mother I would be over the moon.” he reassured you, admiring how even when you were worried, sniffling and teary eyed, you were still the most beautiful person he knew, inside and out.

“And what if our baby is like you Rem? What then?” you voiced the unspoken question in both of your minds.

“I will love him or her all the same Y/N, it will just be a little extra work.” he kissed your shoulder and buried his face in your neck, “I know I haven’t been handling the moon too well since...since everything but I know I can be better. I have my potions and I have you...if you still want me.” he looked up at you tentatively.

“Of course I do, you silly man,” you shook your head with a smile and leaned down to press your lips to his. The kiss was sweet, pouring all of your love into it. A hand on each cheek, he held you as if he was afraid you might slip away.

“We’re in it together from now on I promise.” He said once you broke apart.

“You better keep that promise Mr. Lupin.” you smiled and curled up against him, listening to his heart beat.

And keep his promise he did, with the help of his wolfsbane potion the transformations were easier. With you by his side stroking his fur it wasn’t so bad at all. And when things got out of hand you were always there to feed him chocolate the day after, apply ointments and supply him with plenty of cuddles. When you were down or had a bad day at work Remus was there with a home cooked meal or a back rub or a gentle stream of whispered reassurances.

It wasn’t easy, you still had bad days but you communicated and let each other in. Around the moon Remus would get very protective of you and your now protruding belly. He’d refuse to let you do any house work, bring you treats in bed and pepper your tummy with kisses. He’d often talk to the baby in the mornings, singing his favourite songs under his breath.

When your baby boy was born you cried because he looked exactly like his father. Remus cried because he smiled exactly the way you did. You were happy, undoubtedly so. And Remus told stories about his time at Hogwarts and how his friends would have adored your little boy. Little James Lupin would never doubt that he was loved equally by his parents.

[another-fantasy-world]

Strings Pt.1

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x Fem!OC

Summary: in which the true queen of vampires found love when she least expected. 

Warnings: ...Light Angst? Slowburn and mentions of death,trauma and depression

Timeline: Breaking Dawn - Post-Twilight

Word count: 1,683

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

The Patriarch of the Olympic Coven certainly didn’t expect a visit from an old friend, much less a forgotten queen on the time of their distress trying to save their coven from the selfish hands of Aro Volturi. 

“Greetings Carlisle. It has been a while, hasn’t it?” The violet-eyed vampire smiled.

“M-My Queen! I-” Carlisle stutters, still stunned by shock and confusion.

“No need for such formalities. We’re friends, are we not?” The dark-haired queen smirked.

“Of course. May I ask, How are you here?” 

“ Ah, Dear Carlisle. The years seem to blur doesn’t it? Forgot about me already?”

“It’s...been awhile.” The queen hummed at Carlisle’s response.

“You’re dreaming, Carlisle. Still aware of the fact that I can manipulate your body to sleep? Let’s cut to the chase, Your family is getting worried with the sight of you passed out on the couch. I’ll be sending my representatives over to you as addition to your witnesses. I am aware of your...agreement with the shifters. And I demand that they return to me in one piece. Understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Carlisle grinned

“Very well. They will explain once they get there. I wish you the best of luck. Carlisle Cullen.” 

And with that, Carlisle’s eyes fluttered open, refocusing on his wife’s worried eyes, he smiled gently.

“I’m fine, my love. It appears that we have more visitors coming.” He grinned 

“Witnesses? But how? More importantly, Who?” Edward questions

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that Carlisle just took a nap?” Emmett wailed while tossing his mate, Maggie, over his shoulders.

Carlisle sighed at his son’s antics before speeding out of the room, only to come back with an antique looking box. He gestured for them to sit down.

“I think it’s time that I tell you a story...” Carlisle breathed in an unneeded breath, allowing himself to recollect his memories from centuries ago.

“...Anastasia Thorne. Also known as Anastasiarine Maximilliene Rolinde-Thorne.” He starts, voice wavering as he smiles

“She’s also known as The Ghost Queen, Of Volturi and of every other vampires that there are. There were rumours that she was the first ever vampire to walk in these lands and that we came from her. She never really did confirm that fact, whenever I ask her of it, she only laughs and dismissed it with a joke.” Carlisle’s eyes seem to stare into the distance, reminiscing the olden days. He pulls out a couple of pictures, all containing the same woman.

‘Gorgeous’ was the first word that popped on Rosalie’s mind. And soon she wonders what would happen if she ever meets the said Queen. But she immediately dismisses the thought.

The Cullens, besides Carlisle of course, merely looks at each other in silence, urging Carlisle to continue.

“She was many things when she was still young. A Princess, A Queen, A Knight, A Doctor, A Philosopher, A Genius, She was even a pirate once. Above all, She was a paradox. Unpredictable and Bipolar. Always lived in isolation, I do not know how she manages that but she did. Only comes out of her own tower when needed. She was the one who thought me how to feed on animals, did I ever tell you that?” he asked. They all shook their head no.

“Huh, It must have slipped my mind” 

“My, Carlisle. You must be getting old.” An unknown voice suddenly pops out of nowhere.

They all swerved their head to where the unknown voice came from and there stood two figures. Two women to be exact.

“Don’t tease him. 3 decades is a long time.” The other slaps the other.

“I’m sorry for being rude, barging into your home like this. Anastasia was quite insistent on us helping you,” The figure in a green cloak grins

“My name’s Veronica. And this is Amore. We are here to help you.” Veronica smiles gently.

“How...” Emmett gapes

“How did we not hear you? How do I not hear you?” Edward asked, baffled

“Teleportation is the strangest thing isn’t it? It also risks losing a couple limbs.” Amore deadpans

“You... have a pulse.” Bella suddenly blurts out

Amore and Veronica looks at each other before chuckling. 

“Ah, we can never escape a newborn’s ears. Yes we have a pulse. Yes we are hybrids as well, just not the same as your daughter.” Vero smiles gently

“Uh-huh. We were witches. Salem witches to be exact. We escaped death when some random vampire bit us the day we were supposed to be burned. Somehow our genes as witches halted the venom from fully consuming our body, so when we awoke, we quickly learned we have every strength yet none of the weaknesses of a vampire.” Amore explains.

“What do you mean?” Esme asks

“Well, for one, we don’t sparkle.” Veronica giggles

“Two, we still bleed. but our blood isn’t appetizing. I’ve been told my blood smells like trash...” Amore grimaces “...I don’t know if that was a compliment or an insult.”

“And three. We still have our witchy abilities.” Veronica finalizes, holding Amore’s hand

Amore then furrows her brows as if threatened and offended. 

“Mind reader. Whatever your name is, our goal isn’t to hurt your daughter. If it was, My head would already be a decor on our Queen’s Palace. So don’t poke around.” Amore pointedly looks at Edward who tenses in shock 

“Amore. Behave. Now where is the hybrid?” Veronica curiously asks

A shy Renesmee pokes her head out of Bella’s legs, Veronica immediately coos.

“Awwee~ Rey, Look! She’s so cute~” The redhead fusses over a now blushing Renesmee

“You’re overwhelming her.” Amore pulls Veronica from her collar away from the hybrid child. “...Behave.” Amore smirks

Amore crouches down to Renesmee’s height and smiles. Staring at each other as if silently communicating then, Renesmee lifts her hand up to touch Amore’s cheek. She looks forward, in a daze then grins wildly, snapping back to reality.

“You have an amazing gift, Little Cullen. Very pretty too. Would you want me to show you mine?” Amore asks, to which Renesmee nods rapidly, already warming up to the visitors, much to Jacob’s distaste.

“Great, More Leeches.” Jacob glares when he steps into the living room, where he found his imprint near a vampire. 

“Too Close” He thinks, shifting into a defensive position while trying not to shift into his wolf.

“Hmm, and here I thought Renesmee couldn’t be more special.” Veronica giggles.

“Calm yourself down, shifter. I don’t want to hurt your imprint.” Amore rolls her eyes, then smiles at Renesmee. 

The opens her palms and there lies a mixture of purples, blues, pinks, blacks and whites. The universe is displayed in Amore’s hands, Swirling around as if creating a new planet.

“Illusion is tricky, therefore, only those who believe shall see it.”  Amore closes her palms and ruffles the child’s hair. 

“Coooooool.” Emmett gapes in amazement.

“Very well, shows over. Wolfie, be a dear and take your imprint on a date, will you?” Amore looks at Jacob with a serious glint in her eyes

Rosalie had to quiet her snort when Amore called Jacob, wolfie. She dislikes shifters with a passion, they stink and is very dangerous. Edward merely smirks at his sister before gulps due to Esme’s glare.

“Stay out of my head!.” Rosalie screamed in her head, making him wince.

As soon as the both of them ensured the child and it’s imprint is out of earshot, Their auras changed into a much more serious and sinister one. Frowns prominent on their faces.

“As we’ve said before, our abilities as witches remained even in this immortal form, but along that, we also attained gifts. Amore being the gift of illusion and Mine being knowledge. I know everything. I’m basically a much more reliable and attractive internet. Although I couldn’t see the future as your dear Alice, Once she gets her vision, it adds to my knowledge bank. Therefore, I have knowledge on the outcome of this battle. And it’s not good.” Veronica glares at the floor, silently seething. The once cheerful and happy woman, turned into an angry blob of mess.

“Aro is as insufferable as ever, He wishes to destroy your coven. He merely needs his evidence and he has been waiting a long time for this. He wouldn’t back down easily. As much as we want to help you, we can’t be seen in your thoughts. Or that will ruin the balance of the worlds. We trust in Alice’s plan, You should too.” Amore seriously states, rubbing her mate’s back

“We need your consent. You all have to trust us. I know it’s not easy, us popping into your lives and all. We must mask your thoughts, One where your memories and thoughts of us are hidden from Aro.” Veronica smiles gently, slowly calming down.

“They’re telling the truth” Maggie, The resident lie detector confirms.

“You may discuss it among yourselves.” Veronica drags Amore away.

Rosalie frowns, Trust doesn’t come easy. Do these strangers seriously ask for her trust without them earning it? That was absurd in her book, the last time she trusted someone on a whim, it caused her demise. Her frown deepens when an unknown feeling bubbles up deep in her. She’s confused, she was confused on as to why she felt jealous, envious. Was it their beauty? No, it wasn’t that. Rosalie knew, even though she was only ever been with men, she knew that she found women attractive, although never really caring about it since they had to come and go. she was offended when people misinterpreted her longing looks as glares of envy, she was only admiring after all. Was it that they found each other then? No, it was something deeper. She was jealous of them for something. Something she doesn’t know. And she hated that. She snarled at them then speeds away to the comfort of her room, without listening to her coven, missing the knowing smirks of both Veronica and Amore. They looked at each other then nodded with grins on their faces.

Yep. They were definitely meant for each other.

[midnight-in-town]

Hi so I came across your Femto punishing both Guts and Casca meta and even tho I kinda like it I found myself at odds with a part of it.

I think punishing Casca and feeling mad she picked Guts over him and considered leaving him wasn't really a consideration at all. In the thoughts he has after the weird trippy hallucination thing they put him through during the eclipse his only thoughts are about Guts. How he was the only one who made Griffith forget his dream. And when he forgot this torture happened and his body was broken.

Guts was the one he risked life for by going to save him from Zod. Guts was the one who managed to get close to him despite his attempts to keep his distance from his men. Griffith was at that point after all only human. Humans need close relationships which he was denying himself and that led to his overattachment to the one he had which caused him to end up in the situation he got tortured in. He had to blow off steam he was so upset by Guts leaving and the concept alone made his fight with Guts more erratic.

But Casca leaving isn't reflected on at all during the Eclipse. Griffith said once that a true equal was what he considered a friend and while he was talking to a royal at the time that might still be true. Griffith who was human, and despite being in denial about it, craved friendship.

An equal who didn't leave him might be something he wanted. But Femto who has thrown away his humanity doesn't want a friend he doesn't want a equal. A power play is required to prove that Guts is beneath him. He needs to disempower Guts to feel empowered. To feel that Guts isn't a equal that Guts is beneath him.

The scene where he pushes down Casca is a parallel because it is also about power but in a different way. The sequence of events is Griffith asks Guts to put on his armor he wants to be able to put it on fight again. Guts obliges excited to see Griffith recover.

Elsewhere Casca is told he will never recover enough to hold a sword again. A demon attacks them rips off Griffiths armor and mocks him and his group over how he's already broken. Afterwards Griffith hears his group come apart as they come to terms about his condition. Casca berates Guts for expecting that recovery when it not possible which Griffith also hears.

Griffith then pushes Casca down I think because Casca used to be someone he was stronger than her. It's just a desperation to show he has even a bit of the strength he used to possess.

He manages to stay in the position she doesn't try to push him off he doesn't try to do anything and just puts his effort in maintaining position. Flopping on her and groping would probably be less physical effort but I don't think that what he trying to do . His mouth is open like he's trying to say something but no words come out. She hugs him pulling him close and as he's no longer holding up his own body weight his trembling stops.

I think its supposed to contrast with Femto later and his mentality in this moment vs that one.

The first scene with Casca is desperation to show he has even a bit of the strength he used to possess. That it'd not over for him.

The second one where he attacks Casca in front of Guts is to show no one is equal to him everyone is beneath him. Guts is beneath him. In this world where Griffith reigns Guts has no power to stop anything to do anything and he wants to mock and hurt Guts. That it's his time to rule.

When Griffith is rescued his immediate reaction is to lash out attack Guts. He is mad at Guts for leaving because in his mind Guts leaving led to this. But it only led to this because Griffith cared enough about him that he would be upset at not having Guts around. Its because they were friends. So when he sees Guts crying over him that anger dissappears and he puts his hands on Guts hand in a almost comforting gesture. He can't go as far with his anger or hatred because he loves and cares too.

Which is why that first scene with Casca is only her being pinned. He wouldn't go that far because even if he doesn't see her as a equal he still gives a shit. Its why he attempts to move to her when she attacked by demons after they escape with him. Maybe he wouldn't even consider doing something like what Femto does to her.

But that caring and giving a shit is the humanity he gives up. Femto still has emotions he had feelings Griffith used to have. If he didn't making Guts feel disempowered wouldn't matter. The idea of Guts as a equal in anyway wouldn't occur. Femto is just that anger and rage he felt when he tried to strangle Guts without the caring he felt when he put his hand on Guts hand.

Casca only mattered when Griffith cared about people who he thought he was stronger than. When he sacrificed that Casca ceased to matter. She was never a target of his anger or frustration. But Guts continued to matter. Because Guts was a target of that. He wants the target of his frustration to suffer, and he knows this will make him suffer.

Just my opinion thought I'd share. Still love your meta tho!

Well, damn, that’s a long ask. xDD Next time, just reblog and add your thoughts, I also answer that way, hahaha!

Also, not sure which post of mine you’re referring to, by the way. I’m thinking this one, but I honestly can’t be sure because I also reblogged posts on the subject?

Anyway, if I sum up your take: Griffith was out to punish Guts only and not Casca, because Guts >>> Casca in terms of significance as far as Griffith is concerned? 

Thank you for your input :) but see, I disagree, because this is exactly why I once said that...

I don’t understand why some fans somehow reduce Berserk’s plot to being about Guts vs Griffith, Casca often becoming some random secondary character. For me, no matter how you look at the series ever since the Golden Age, it just ain’t the case. :))

However, all I ever wrote was that Griffith punished both of them; I never implied that their “betrayal” amounted to the same significance for Griffith, because it’s indeed not the case.

After all, as you said, we know Guts always had a bigger impact on Griffith since the day they met...

...but, while we will never know for sure, I for one am quite convinced that if Casca (who was Griffith’s right-hand woman) was the one who had left in the same fashion as Guts, it would have triggered Griffith in a similar way. 

Because Griffith is a man of influence: he knows that and how to use such charisma on others. That’s why he totally means the words he said to Charlotte about what kind of people he would see as a friend. So he uses people’s feelings for him in a way that would serve the path to achieving his dreams. Casca herself said that, as a leader after he was gone, all she did was "try to protect the dream of someone who might not even be alive”. 

The Band of the Falcon lived and worked to help Griffith achieve his dream, because they saw him as special, since they had no achievable big dream of their own (kinda why Griffith said they’re not “friends”). 

So yeah sure, Guts’ actions would always leave a bigger impact on Griffith, as you showed he said it himself, but Casca falling in love with Guts and envisioning a future far away from Griffith’s schemes still clearly stung. 

After all, everyone in the group knew of Casca’s unrequited feelings for Griffith, meaning that Griffith obviously knew too and, instead of telling her it would never happen, he entertained the possibility so that Casca would entirely devote herself to him.

Take Judeau, as a counterexample: he too had some feelings for Casca, but he urged Guts several times to take her with him and away from the group, because he couldn’t stand her unhappiness. Griffith said nothing about her feelings, because he knew that’s how Casca would do everything for his sake. 

Still, Casca was not any random member of his Band so, when she emancipated from Griffith by falling in love with Guts, in my opinion it’s why...

...she also was on the receiving end of his jealousy. 

It’s distasteful but, otherwise, why did Femto rape Casca instead of killing her? Again, we will never know, but if Guts had left Griffith behind for a future with any other random girl, I think Femto would have just killed her in front of Guts. Raping Casca, when she used to long for Griffith’s affection, was revenge against both of them for choosing each other instead of him and his dream. 

You can see it in the way he stared at both of them so many times, coming to the realization that he was not at the center of their little trio anymore. So yeah, Guts > Casca in terms of significance since day 1 as far as Griffith is concerned, I never discussed that, but Casca was not such a random member of Griffith’s band either that her actions of emancipation would not taste bitter to him. That’s my opinion. :)

Additional points: I never said he was trying to grope her in that scene when he fell on top of her as she was changing his bandages, just that “he was trying to gauge or reenact Casca’s old devotion to him by showing some affection”.

And finally, Femto who was entirely reborn as a Godhand has no emotion left about Guts or Casca, he said it himself. Thinking he’s only anger and revenge would be confusing Femto with the Skull Knight or Guts as the Black Swordsman.

Friendly reminder that Femto is not human anymore so, while Griffith thrived on thinking that he didn’t bother with overwhelming bonds to anyone and that only his dream ever mattered, it is actually the case for Femto. 

I hope I answered your points. Thanks for reading and have a nice day Anon! :))

[tribus-mantodea]

[ Formalities. ]

long overdue. I’ve been trying to chip at a google doc and uh, hrm. think I’ll toss the gist into here for mostly myself and anyone else that happen to be curious

likely will still modify subtly in future drawings, but just general gist of what i want to do moving forward for personalization fun because i ... am too lazy to do subtle color shifts/other notes when i can just. [forcibly adds on things that makes it look more like ceremonial accessories than not] (the first is lacking more of the adornments because she doesn’t care for ‘em, plus hello brother)

i never mentioned it, but the scratches dragged across the third’s horns are due to a hunt, whereas the second had mirrored some of the scratches in gentle solidarity (even if it had went against how she idealized their eldest/how it was somewhat disadvantageous when working together but. eh.) and wound up gaining new ones anyhow

names:

i haven’t really figured anything out. i don’t see mine having actual names even when professionalism is involved (manta from yesterday i look at you VERY disrespectfully) as they’re commonly referred to as the collective “lords.” individually beyond respectful hisses and the striking of claws (or tapping the butt end of a lance against ground) at most four times depending on which lord is being spoken to, adjectives and titles are fun. maybe not self-proclaimed ones -- at least beyond the initial passage into adulthood long ago.

i... hm

where the first has been dubbed the primary arbiter and judicator. by merit, she is more adept than her siblings as an individual. not blatantly so, but her wit and due responsibility placed her as such. that being said... she’s not foolish enough as to decide everything on her own, certainly not for their village of warriors when they aren’t receptive to outsiders. she has the sense to seek counsel from the other lords. they aren’t at risk of an echo chamber, and in the end, she herself is the one that finalizes matters after an unhealthy amount of consideration. she has been called indomitable as well (though she herself does not see that the slightest bit true if saying so outside of her prideful spirit) in the way she presents herself and what position she takes in a fight. part of it is because she is a lord, so... what would it do for her to fall so easily and without fight? morale is a funny thing sometimes.

the second is the obligated huntress (and as some have regarded her as... warmonger). her personality is rather brash and almost snarky, and with not much else to consider herself skilled in, she prides herself in almost everything related to hunting. (patience, shockingly, and the utmost attention to little everythings coupled with perhaps a cruelly efficient means of doing things.) well. just a fighter. she’s also that one lord who later after they’d spoke with the king personally was like “We could use just even one of those unnecessarily shiny spikes on his crest as a substitute nail. He doesn’t need all of them does he?” “...Sister.” “Or we toss in a mushroom into that cage. See how long it takes for it to stop bouncing before he realizes.” “Sister.” “Bah! Would you rather I talk about how unrealistic but infuriatingly fun it would be to fight him and all of his people?”

while she finds it somewhat embarrassing, the third has been called an altruistic mediator in her attempts to settle disputes and internal conflict. that, and she more actively shows her concern towards things (thus having more bandages on her just as a precaution). she was the one most receptive to the idea of interacting with outsiders and doesn’t exactly agree with those (aka her older twin) that might feel it more necessary to outright sunder before they ever get to speak. don’t get her wrong though; she understands the justification and wouldn’t give anyone a slip of mercy either (especially if they happen to kill any of their warriors or youth, but she’d entertain a talk for something that somehow snuck through their village and let them go with the risk that of it being determinantal. (well. not like none of them can handle themselves, ha ha.)

the brother is simply... stalwart, zealous in his efforts to improve himself and be as good as his sisters (if not better). even when he tries to hide that, it’s quite obvious that he tries and in turn serves as some sort of inspiration for the other mantids. dude just wants to be the best for the tribe. he’s got little traits of all of his sisters, but in the end, he has interests at heart. he’s formidable! he’s cool! he’s. i forgot what else i wanted to talk about here so oops sorry mister man grjkaldfhj another time

bonus

“Only for a little—” “For longer.” “—okay.”

the third’s the type to overextend herself and dance on the brink of burn-out fairly often (especially so post-deposed lord; involving herself with the village is expected). while both sisters will call her out on it, more often than not it’s the second doing so. sure she’s not the greatest at what the younger can do, but. hey. they all rule together. 

come to think of it they all call each other out on their tendencies oops

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Freudian projection is characterized by some as a defence mechanism employed by those who are struggling to accept difficult emotions or truths. Rather than admit or addressing the feelings, the emotions are projected onto someone else. Perhaps that is why Osamu Miya was particularly willing to accept your unfaithfulness. After engaging with his friends and brother in the group chat, the Onigiri Miya owner’s lack of satisfaction in the answers compelled him to further research the matters discussed. There were threads on social media of what conspired earlier that day. Some accounts were evidently false while others held a candor that could not be falsified. The more information he consumed, the lower his heart sunk until it had reached the pit of his stomach, soon to be tormented by the acids inside.

Was it solely a coincidence that the description provided in most accounts on Bokuto’s mystery girlfriend fitted you perfectly? Of course, it was not. The MSBY Ace admitted to being in your company for the evening. Hell, the proof was slathered across social media. There was no shame.

But why label yourself as his girlfriend publicly? It was obvious that he would learn about it sooner or later. 

Some spectators had posted to elucidate that the mystery girlfriend arrived only to save the MSBY player from hoards of fangirls who were bordering on harassment. So, did you do it to save him? You were never one to abandon your friends, despite the situation.

“She loves you, idiot.” He mumbled the reminder to himself in a scold. It was stupid to believe that you would cheat on him with his friend. He knew you loved him.

Of course he knew it. You loved him, and only him.

Yet a little voice in his head questioned whether his recent neglect had forced you into the arms of another. But the Ace was the last person he expected you to turn to. Your relationship with Iwaizumi, or even Oikawa held far more potential to evolve into something romantic. Ache spread across his chest like a wildfire at the mere thought of you with someone else.

The tiny noise of the lock clicking to an open hauled his attention from the nightmares projecting inside of his head back to the living room apartment. Removing the cap from his head, he attempted to burn the insecurity embedded in his thoughts as he proceeded to greet you at the front door. A weak smile twitched at the ends of his mouth disguising the flood of emotions he was drowning in.

“Oh, hi there. I didn’t expect to see you waiting for me like a little kitten.” A titter expelled from your lips as you stepped into the apartment, with the food containers held snugly against your stomach. Intoxicated by the excitement of finally spending some quality time with your fiancé, you were unable to detect the hints of pain scattered across his visage. “Here, you can start eating. I’m just gonna change into something else.” The plastic bag containing layers of food was offered out to the black-haired male, who was losing to the battle of insecurity waged against his mind. 

“Okay.” As he accepted the bag, his fingers brushed against yours, drawing his attention subconsciously to your hands. He was not actively searching for confirmation of your unfaithfulness. He certain was not… because you loved him. 

But if you loved him, and only him… Why was the ring symbolizing your love no longer snug against your finger?

The threads woven neatly together to disguise his emotions slowly loosened until all that remained were shrivelled pieces, serving no purpose. But you were already making your way to the bedroom, unaware of the torment that your carelessness had bestowed upon him.

Did you want him to suffer? Was that it? Were you seeking attention? Was this all a revenge ploy after what occurred with Ichika? Did Atsumu tell you something?

Truthfully, he would prefer that than knowing you loved someone else. You could seek all the revenge in the world, as long as you remained with him. He would accept it willingly.

But first he had to know – did you still love him?

Once the food containers were placed onto the table, he immediately began walking towards the bedroom, his quest for answers outweighed his appetite.  

Inside of the bedroom you were sat at the vanity, attempting to unhook the necklace from around your neck, but upon seeing your fiancé’s reflection, the hook was released from your fingers. The slightest hint of tears could be traced at the bottom of his eyelids, and with his greyish irises, it resembled a storm seconds from brewing. 

“Samu?” Instinctively you rose from the chair, quickly removing the space between you two before taking his hands in yours. His eyes landed on your intertwined fingers praying he was incorrect in his observations earlier. But alas there was no ring. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you love me?” The inquiry was voiced dejectedly as he searched your face for an answer. Generally, you were an open book with your emotions. Whether it was love or hatred, each emotion would alter your features in a noticeable manner. Right now, concern prompted little wrinkles to form at the edges of your eyes. But with the question registering upon your ears, disbelief brought your eyebrows to narrow.

“Oh god. That’s what has your panties twisted? I thought it was serious. You know that I love you, gremlin. Sorry to break it to you, but you’re mine forever now.” Irritation gnawed at your heart – how could he question your love? Was he really in any position to do so?

“Where’s your ring, y/n?” The words were whispered softly, barely overpowering the sounds stemming from the television in the other room.

“My ring?” A quizzical expression contorted your features, instinctively your gaze travelled from your left hand to the purse located on the vanity. “Right, it’s in my purse. I took it off for the shoot, but I guess I forgot to put it back on. Give me a second, I’ll go get it.” To retrieve the handbag his hands first had to be released, but to Osamu the loss of physical contact resembled a physical blow. Weakly he caught your shirt, forcibly halting your movements.

“Did you tell everyone that you’re Bokuto’s girlfriend?” Relinquishing the control he was struggling to maintain allowed his insecurity direct access to his vocal cords. There was no stopping him now.

“What? Well… Yeah but …” 

“Why?” His voice sliced through yours, despite the fact it was quite clear that you were seconds from explaining yourself anyway. The unexpected interrogation was beginning to damage the limited patience you had. Drained from the activities of the day, it was only natural that you were not mentally capable to handle the additional stress. Not when it stemmed from misguided assumptions.

“Because he was being harassed by some crazies, so I had to save him!” There was much more you desired to add, harsher sentiments but to silence your rage, you bit the insides of your cheeks until they were raw.

Osamu paused evaluating your answer, your version of events aligned with the spectators. As he thought, you took it upon yourself once more to save a friend. So why was he still taunted by the voice in his head?

“Is it true?” He instantly regretted it, seeing how it sent any restraint you mustered to wither away.

“What the fuck, Samu. Are you kidding me right now? I’m not cheating on you!” Hurt laced with rage shimmered in your y/e/c irises. Instantly you swatted at the hand confining you to him. Hearing the sincerity laced in your declarations awoke him from his fever dream.

You wouldn’t lie to him. No. He was the one lying to you. He was the idiot.

“I can’t believe it. You’re the one who is always missing. You are the one who hasn’t barely looked at me for months. You are the one who ditches our plans. But you’re accusing me? I can’t…” Desperate to focus on anything but him, you ripped your gaze from him, subconsciously searching for an escape from the situation. “I… I’m gonna stay at Akari’s tonight. I can’t do this. There is only so much I can take.” The ache weaving into your bloodstream would not stop you from leaving. The weight of his words poisoned the usually welcoming atmosphere of the apartment. It no longer felt like home. But if you were being honest, it hadn’t felt like home in a while.

Osamu thrusted a palm against his face, panic surging from his heart into his muscles. They had all warned him, and somehow, he still managed to dig his own grave.

“No please… Y/n. I’m sorry,” The little cracks in his voice constrained your movements, bringing your hands to lower from the dresser containing your clothes. “I’m just stressed, and I said some stupid shit. I know you love me, and if there’s anyone who needs to explain it’s me,” He knew his words alone would equate to a band-aid on an open wound, and so he slowly proceeded in your direction, his fingers twitching before he rested them lightly on your hips, guiding your back to align with his chest. “Don’t go. Please.” His whispered pleads were followed by a gentle kiss that was applied to the area behind your ear. The gesture ignited a fire in your chest, one that began melting away the rage that was clouding you.

“Listen to me,” With an intake of breath for courage, you adjusted yourself to face him. “I’ll be anything you need me to be, but I will not be your punching bag. You don’t get to question me when it’s my heart on the line.” Your heavy eyelashes fluttered up at him as you squinted just a tad, challenging him to even try to dispute your words.

But he knew better by now.

“I know. I’m sorry. Please.” Slipping an arm around your waist, your frame was ushered to his as a small kiss was placed against your lips. “I don’t need you to be anything but my wife.” His response prompted your heart to complete a flip, and for once you hated yourself for loving him more than life itself.

But when his mouth returned to yours, urging you to forget the accusations that were made against your character – your loyalty, you did. At least for the night.

Let’s do it again, shall we -  Freudian projection

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A/N: if this hurt just wait lol. 

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