#i have a color piece in the works but its gonna take a bit and i wanted something for noww | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

0cta9on · 3 months

Text

FFF2+4

length: +2k words

Genre: Smut

Le Sserafim Sakura x Male Reader

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Your hand lazily inserts the key into your apartment and unlocks the door. You want to slam it behind you in anger, but you’re too tired to even manage that. Working at the convenience store was supposed to be easy, just a little side hustle you can do to make some cash while you go through school. However, you failed to anticipate the long and arduous days of being yelled at by customers over things you have no power over, all for minimum wage. Your piece of shit manager doesn’t make things easier as all she does is sit on her phone while you’re the one that has to run around like a dog just to maintain the store. With a heavy sigh, you collapse face-first into the couch, just barely fighting the urge to suffocate in between the cushions and end your suffering once and for all.

“You good?”

You turn your attention to your roommate Sakura, who’s sitting on the floor, immersed in a fighting game on the TV. Sakura seldom talks and has a bit of an unnerving air about her, but she always kept the common areas clean and upheld her side of the chores so you considered her to be the perfect roommate in your book. You’ve managed to warm up to each other a little bit over the years, yet she always remained as sort of an enigma to you. You rarely talked due to always being busy with work or school, but whenever you did see her, she was always playing some kind of video game. Supposedly she makes money from streaming herself playing these games to thousands of people. You didn’t really understand, but you didn’t really need to anyway.

Your body slides off the couch onto the floor next to her, your eyes glazing over the flashing colors on the screen. “I’m fine,” you utter. “What are you playing?”

“Tekken 8,” she answers, her eyes never leaving the screen. “You wanna play?”

“I think I’ll stick to watching you.” Video games were never really your thing, but you could admire how skillful Sakura looked with the way her slender fingers quickly pressed the right buttons at the right time, her eyes glaring with focus. The blue light of the TV reflects off of her pale skin, making her look ethereal despite wearing a simple crop top and a pale blue tracksuit. Since when did Sakura look so attractive?

Before you knew it, you were suddenly face to face with the back of Sakura’s blonde head, your legs splayed out on either side of her. She was too focused on the game to notice you pressing up against her, which you took as a sign to take things further. Maybe it was the exhaustion and the stress seeping its way into your brain, but you needed some kind of release and Sakura just happened to be at the right place at the right time.

Your hands slowly snake their way up her toned abs, grazing her soft skin with your fingertips and stopping at the hem of her top. Sakura hasn’t made any move to stop you, you wonder if she even noticed you at all. You lift up her top, pleasantly surprised to see her wearing no bra underneath. Her breasts are the perfect size and shape to fit into the palms of your hands, soft yet firm like a stress ball. With each gentle squeeze, all the stress you procured over the day begins to drain from your body, and your erection starts to strain against your pants, pressing into Sakura’s lower back. Lust takes over your body as your breath gets heavier and your heart pounds in your chest. Your lips latch onto the back of her exposed neck, kissing and licking her porcelain skin.

“You’re gonna make me lose,” she says, her voice monotone. You momentarily pause to chuckle at her nonchalance. Her body was being ravished by her roommate, yet all she cared about was winning her little game. You found it oddly cute in a weird way.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, punctuating your sentence with a kiss on her neck. “How about this? If you win while I play with your body, I’ll give you $10.”

“Make it $20 and I’ll let you fuck me afterward.”

“Deal.” Almost immediately, your hand lunges into the waistband of her pants while your other hand pinches Sakura’s nipples. To your surprise, her panties had a sizable wet spot on them - despite her lack of a reaction, she was way into this. As you apply pressure against the wet spot, you hear her breath hitch in her throat, her body shivering upon contact. You had her right where you wanted her.

As much as you would love to take your time to make her feel good, you also didn’t want to easily give up the $20 you worked so hard for. You move her panties to the side to give you easier access to the honey pot lying underneath. Her lips were already coated in her slick juices as you teased her hole with your digits. A small groan escapes her mouth right as she wins the first round with a sliver of health left.

“Ooooh, that was a close one, Kkura,” you tease, chuckling into her ear. “Maybe this’ll be easier than I thought.”

Sakura stays quiet, her focus on the game unwavering. Right as the second round starts, you shove two fingers deep inside her hot, velvety core, eliciting a cute moan from the Japanese girl. The slickness of her arousal coats your fingers, allowing you to thrust in and out of her with ease. The texture of her inner walls is like silk wrapped around steel - soft and smooth, yet firm and unyielding. You watch with enjoyment as Sakura slowly becomes undone. Lustful moans continued to escape her lips, and her fingers began to spaz out with each thrust of your hand, causing her character to lose health. Her grip on the controller tightened with frustration but quickly dissipates as you continue to finger her pussy. Miraculously, she somehow managed to win the second round, albeit with a smaller margin than before.

“Hmm, I guess I should start trying now, huh?” You quicken the pace of your hand while your thumb rubs against her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Sakura’s body. Her breathy moans fill the air as she tries desperately to ignore the lust threatening to take over her body. The walls of her pussy tighten around your fingers as she grows closer to her orgasm, her hips rocking subtly with each thrust, inadvertently rubbing her butt against your erection. Your breath grew heavy with excitement, but you didn’t want to end the fun just yet. Right when you think she’s about to cum, you remove your hand from her heat, denying her the satisfaction of a release. Sakura turns to you with a fire in her eyes, causing her to lose her first round.

You chuckle in her face. “What’s with that look?” you ask, taunting her with a sly smirk. From all your years of knowing her, this is the most emotion you have ever seen her display. You couldn’t help but find it cute how much she wanted to cum.

“Whatever…” She grumbles in annoyance before turning back to the screen. You place a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, a symbol of your apology. However, you aren’t apologizing for not taking her all the way. In fact, this is an apology made in advance - you’re about to make things so much more difficult for her.

Instead of pulling the trigger and assaulting her wetness like she wants you to, you decide to tease her by gently rubbing your fingers over the cloth of her crotch, applying just enough pressure for her to feel it but not enough for her to get off. Your other hand traces gentle circles on her breasts, tickling her skin with your fingernails. Sakura lets out a huff of irritation. She so badly wanted to feel your fingers inside of her, but unfortunately for her, her pride was stronger than her lust, and throwing the game for her own pleasure was just not a viable option. Her sexual frustration gets the better of her and the poor girl ends up losing the round in a complete stomp, leaving just one more round to decide whether or not you would be out $20.

“Ugh…” She groans while pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What’s the matter? Just one more win and you get $20, easy as pie,” you say, smirking mischievously. Sakura simply shrugged it off, putting all her attention into the game, but little did she know how dirty you planned on playing the final round.

Right as the in-game announcer starts the final round, you push Sakura forward so that she’s now on all fours, her perfect ass in the air. Despite the compromising change in position, she kept her grip on her controller and her focus on winning. You didn’t let her stay comfortable for long as you grabbed the waistband of her velvet sweatpants and pulled it down along with her panties, exposing her plump cheeks in one fell swoop. Her pussy stains her thighs with her sweet nectar, ready for you to ravish her hole. All your patience is about to pay off as you free your erection from its prison, lining it up with Sakura’s core. With one thrust, you completely bottom out inside of her, causing a high-pitched moan to come out of her mouth. Your fingers sink into the plush flesh of her hips, pulling her towards you with each thrust. The sight of her modest yet plump ass vibrating with an audible slap of skin against skin is worth way more than $20, yet here you are, enjoying it all for free. Sakura’s pussy squeezes your cock with her slick walls, her climax quickly approaching thanks to the work of your fingers earlier. At this point, your roommate was a complete mess in front of you, dropping her controller and letting her opponent knock out her character without any fight. Right as the big red “DEFEAT” pops up on the screen, Sakura lets out a long moan, announcing her orgasm. You hold her hips down on the base of your cock as her body shakes with pleasure, her juices spilling down your legs and staining your work pants.

Sakura collapses onto the ground as you pull out of her, giving you a moment to catch your breath. As much as you would love to dump your entire load into her pretty pussy, you decide to show her mercy in this instance. Games aren’t fun if you win them right away.

Slowly, Sakura props herself up. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath and you can’t help but become mesmerized by her breasts. In turn, she stares at your dick, still glistening with her nectar. She discards her disheveled clothing, and like a kitten stalking its prey, she crawls towards you with unblinking eyes. Normally, her face void of emotion would be hard to read, but at this moment, you knew exactly what she was thinking. Her lips hungrily latch onto yours as she straddles your lap, grasping onto your cock to line it up with her dripping cunt. Your hands automatically gravitate towards her hips as you pull her down onto your lap, forcing her to take all of you at once. Sakura groans into your mouth, wrapping her arms around your head and pulling you deeper into the sloppy kiss.

As she bounces on your dick, you completely forget about all the shit you faced at work. Hell, you would gladly work at the shit hole if it meant getting to fuck your cute roommate every day. The thought gets you more excited as you meet Sakura’s hips with thrusts of your own, simultaneously breaking the kiss to suckle on her perfect bouncing tits. Her shrill moans and the slaps of your skin against hers fill your ears, driving you closer to the edge.

“S-Sakura… I’m about to c-cum…” You warn her, breathless.

“I-inside… C-cum inside me…”

With your grip tightened on her waist, you slam her down onto your cock, forcing your entire length inside as you shoot ropes of your semen into her cunt. Sakura meets your orgasm with one of her own, her pussy pulsating and milking your cock. Her body collapses onto you as both of you catch your breath.

“Well, that was something,” you say to fill the empty space. Sakura answers with a hot shaky breath against your neck. Five minutes pass before her breathing finally comes back to normal. “Soooo… Same time tomorrow?” You ask, half-jokingly. Sakura gets up from your neck with the same blank expression as always.

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

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hischeapcigar · 10 months

Text

𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓌𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓈

Pre-outbreak Joel Miller x reader

Part: 1 2 3 4

Summary: you're falling in love with the person your dad hates the most

Word count: 3.6k ish

Warning: none except your father is a bit deranged so maybe that's all

a/n: it was supposed to be cute little one shot but i think it's gonna be series lolol. reblogs and comments are appreciated. love you mwah

Your dad hated Joel. You never knew why but it had been like this as far as you could think. Your father played the major role in trying his best to keep you away from Joel.

BBQ party? Everyone's invited except Joel.

Your birthday? Everyone but Joel

He’s grumpy all day? Must've had an interaction with Joel

He even hit Joel, who obviously retaliated but the neighbors showed up to resolve the matter.

The whole neighborhood knew. How could they not? Your dad insulted him behind his back, which some entertained, but most of them grumbled and left the room. Because they knew Joel and they knew your dad too.

Even you felt pity for Joel, the few rare interactions told you he may look big and fierce, but he was a charmer. Sarah’s happy face was proof of his kind nature and your anxious state of mind was a reflection of your dad’s nature.

You once tried to defend Joel, but your father smashed the glass so hard, a sharp piece pierced the skin of your foot, leaving a scar.

Your parents always change the subject every time you try to bring it up,

“Its past, it doesn’t matter,” they’d say

But it mattered to you, a lot. Since the small get-together in the field the other night, when you first saw him. Sarah had lost track of his father, so you went looking for him with her, and that's when you first met him properly after like forever.

Eyes locked and you swore brown became your favorite color. Your breath hitched; mouth slightly agape. He mirrored your reaction but both of you let go just as quickly, minding Sarah’s presence. They left but he turned back to bless his eyes one more time, stealing one more glance at you. The smile he slipped, held your heart forever. You prayed to the heavens to let you both meet again.

Working in the cafe which Sarah and her friends called their “second home”, you had befriended all those little girls. It was fun to be around them, and they loved your company.

You never officially met any of their parents but one of them captured your mind since that night. You didn't know what you could do without offending Sarah.

But you didn't have to do anything, because Joel took the wheel as he showed up the next day in the cafe. Sunday meant Sarah and her friends were having breakfast together in their corner spot.

You came out from the kitchen, passing the tray of coffee to your coworker as you absentmindedly made your way to the counter, ruffling around with the drawer and all the papers.

“Hey” your head shot up to the sound of the voice and the unmistakable familiarity it carried.

“Hi” you replied breathlessly, hands frozen on the paper you just grabbed.

“Um, can I please get a pancake?” his thick Texan accent flowed like honey, his eyes warm and eager.

“Y-yeah, sure,” you could bet that you conjured him from your imaginations. Seeing him again in a person in less than a week was unbelievable

You quickly turned around to pass the order to the kitchen window but stopped just as quick, lightly smacking your forehead as you returned to him,

“Sorry, uh, which flavor would you like?” you cursed yourself for being so clumsy

He tilted his head to the side, contemplating, before he turned on his good old charm, “su’prise me, sweetheart,” he smirked seeing the look on your face.

Absolutely flustered at the nickname he just gave you, and how easily it rolled off his tongue.

You smiled, mumbling a little, “okay,” before you disappeared in the back

You took a moment, taking a deep breath steadying yourself. Hoping no one notices your flushed cheeks, and no one did.

In a few minutes, you prepared yourself to serve him. Running a hand on your outfit once smoothing it, you took the tray and made your way to Joel. You were glad he busied himself reading a magazine because if he looked at you, you would have forgotten how to walk.

“Hello again,” you announced, and he quickly abandoned whatever article he was reading,

“Hey” he smiled, looking curiously at the pancake plate you just put down, followed by a cup of coffee

“I didn’t order coffee-”

“It's on the house, since we believe it's your first time and because your daughter is our loyal customer,” you snickered

He chuckled, “I- thank you, so much, y’didn’t have to though”

“Also, i chose strawberry flavor because it’s my favorite so I'm hoping you’d like it too,” you shrugged lightly before taking a step back, leaving him with his breakfast,

Just as you turned to leave, you heard him call your name, and God that was the sweetest music to your ears. You had no idea how he knew your name, maybe sarah mentioned it, you figured

You cocked an eyebrow,

“You looked pretty that night”

Your heart warmed at the confession, “thank you Joel, you looked great too” you smiled before you left

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him. Every now and then your gaze found its way to Joel. Even after he caught you stealing glances, he just smirked. He knew what he was doing to you, you knew what you were doing to him. A game for two.

You had your back on the counter, conversing with your coworker, when she pointed behind you. You turned to see Joel standing there, ready to leave.

“Thank you once again, I loved the pancake, though I can’t tell if it's my favorite”

“You could come by every week to try all the flavors until you find your preference” you suggested. Any excuse to bring him back.

“Tryin’ all the flavors, huh? I had another reasons to come back anyway, might as well try all the other flavors” smile tugging at the corner of his smile

Oh.

You didn’t even get the chance to response when he added, “hey ya mind, if y’get the uh, the cup?” he nodded to his table

“Yeah, sure” you were confused, why would he tell you what to do?

You went anyway and now you know why as you looked at the tissue piece with his number scribbled in a messy handwriting

Such a flirt. You smiled so widely your jaw hurt.

“Is this Joel or some cute stranger left a wrong phone number on the table?”

You read it for the thousandth time, indecisive if you should send it or is it a bold way to start a conversation. But then it’s Joel, he wouldn’t mind, you thought and hit send.

Your heart was beating fast, wanting to throw your phone across the room. Checking every other second if he replied, then a few minutes later,

J- “Stranger? I thought we were befriendin' each other”

you giggled at the response, feeling like a young teenager having her crush moment

“Well, we’re getting there”

J- “That so? Hope you realize your dad isn’t really my fan”

“Yes, and I wonder why” curiosity creeping back up at you,

J- “We got into a fight back then during a job we did, since then we just couldn’t get along”

Now was that too hard to disclose? Your parents were just dramatic, you thought.

Before typing your response, he started typing again so you waited,

J- “Wish it doesn’t change our sweet journey of becoming friends”

you read his text, wide grin plastered on your face , though a little disappointed that he only wants friendship, but you felt giddy nevertheless

The next week was the beginning of your new, fragile relationship. Joel would stop by at your cafe any chance he got.

I missed my morning coffee (he missed it on purpose)

I’m tired and I thought coffee might help (he just wanted to see you)

Sarah and her friends wanted pancakes (he asked them, “you guys don’t have to go, I'll get you your order if you want” he’d say and gets “okay, Mr. Miller!” “that’s so kind, Mr. Miller”)

Weeks went by, and you grew to his presence at random hours. You started to look forward to him showing up randomly. Your coworkers were quick to welcome him, noticing how your face would light up every time he was around.

He made a three-day streak of visiting before he didn’t show up for 2 days. A part of you wanted to text him to find out if he was okay, but you wanted to give it one more day, and you were not even sure about the thing you both had going on.

You were preparing the order, Oliver standing next to you, working on his order and occasionally making you laugh with his corny jokes when Gina, another coworker, showed up at your side, pulling you away from your half-done coffee,

“I’ll take it from here, go and deal with your favorite customer” she nudged your side,

You couldn’t help but let the smile make its way to grace your lips, but you had to play dumb,

“What?”

Gina gave you the stare that said really?

You snickered as you left, your heartbeat quickening, exhaustion already leaving your body as you saw him sitting at his usual spot, the corner table that nobody likes, so it’s always available, your favorite spot since him.

You reached him and instead of staying seated as usual, he got up and walked closer to you. It has been 2 days and you didn't know how much you missed him now that he was standing in front of you, all you wanted was to hug him and never let him out of your sight.

He took one more step towards you, maintaining eye contact as he slowly raised his hand to your waist and pulled you into him in one swift motion. You stiffened at first, then you locked your arms at his nape melting into his big frame. You took a deep breath like this was something you were missing all your life.

“Hello to my favorite customer,” you smiled at him when you detached yourselves from each other

“Hello to you too, my sunshine,” he replied, matching your smile

You both returned to the table, and he slid a small bag towards you, you didn’t have to open to know what was inside, strawberries, as he started getting you those ever since you told him that strawberries were your favorite.

Whenever you got free from your morning shift, you two would sit in the reserved area of the cafe just to talk. That’s what you both did. Talk about everything and anything. You didn’t need to pretend, you were completely yourself around him, and he, with you.

He kept buying you strawberries because you loved them. And in turn you would treat him with extra cup of coffee on random days

Any little time you spent together felt like an escape from reality and everything it offered. There was no toxicity, just pure, innocent and effortless conversations along with different flavors of pancakes.

Sarah admired Joel showing interest in your company. She wasn’t young enough to see how happy you both looked, and she was genuinely glad about that. She would even make excuses for Joel to come to the cafe,

Hey dad, can you please bring my notebook, I forgot it on the table and we’re discussing something

And boy would he be beyond happy whenever he gets the opportunity to show up at the cafe.

But like waking up from a really good dream,

Joel had just entered the cafe, standing on the counter, chatting with you (not blocking the way of customers) while you received orders when your eyes went wide at the figure entering through the door,

“What is it?” Joel asked casually

You ducked your head, “its dad” you whispered and saw how Joel’s face fell. You both knew you weren’t allowed to hang out with Joel, let alone be around him.

Suddenly his demeanor changed as he cleared his throat, looking down at the menu card, feeling your dad approaching. You managed to keep a serious and bothered face as you saw your dad stopping deadly in his tracks as he saw Joel. oh boy

“There are other cafes in the town” your dad grunted, indirectly referring to Joel, who only rolled his eyes in response.

You bit a smile at his reaction, “hey dad! Didn’t know you were coming” you tried to alleviate the thick tension.

Your dad gave you a tight nod, “yeah, get me two blueberry pastries; your mom called”

Never the friendly face, annoyance etched on his face like it was there since he was born. Your father was exactly the kind of customers you hated. Acting like a boss, like you owe a million dollars.

You looked between two of them before you left to get the box. On your return, you didn’t spot Joel. You frowned, wondering if your dad had said something to him. Your thoughts were cut short by your dad;

“No need to serve him, tell him to go any other cafe, there are plenty of them,”

You were speechless, he was being absolutely ridiculous.

“Wha- dad? He’s just a customer, you can't bring your years’ old absurd beef in this-”

“Do as i tell you, and if you can’t, then leave the job, you can do better anyway” he threatened in low voice, pointing his finger at you, before leaving

You knew your dad was overreacting but you kept your mouth shut because you knew he wouldn’t care about the people and just shout on you if you disagreed with him

It was midnight, your mind was running a hundred thoughts a minute since your dad showed up today. You had no idea how to tell Joel to stop coming to the café, like how could you stop him when it made you the happiest?

“Hey, you awake?” you texted joel

He didn’t reply for 10 minutes, then your phone chimed, you quickly turned it on to see his text,

J- “Yeah, I'm up, why aren’t you asleep yet?” he replied

“Wondering what dad told you today at the cafe” there was no filtering when you were with Joel, sharing every piece of your mind and not regretting it

J- “Except telling me to not ‘roam around you’ he didn't really say anything”

You were embarrassed, why did your dad have to be like that? you felt bad for Joel

“I’m sorry” you sent before typing “I just wish he wouldn’t stop you from the cafe, your presence feels natural there”

J- “Don't be sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mind it at all. He’s only looking out for you; we'll figure it out. plus, I think I can sneak in when I get the chance ;)”

You scoffed at his text, looking out for me? More like suffocating me from things that I actually like. But you felt affection for him in the way he was willing to be with you.

It had been a week, he showed up two times. Two times. A day apart. Then he disappeared for the rest of the week.

After the 3rd long day of him not showing up, you started to worry. Two hours of constant contemplating later, you decided to text him,

“Hey, Joel”

It's Sunday afternoon, 2pm. Not that Joel would have something to do so you wait for his text. You toss and twist in bed, smoking cigarettes, reading old magazines, scrolling on your phone, an hour later, there was no reply.

4 hours; nothing.

8 hours; nothing.

Next day, beginning of next week. You passed by his house, praying to get at least a glimpse of him but there was nothing.

You didn’t even see him on the streets, not with Sarah, just nowhere. As if he didn't even exist.

Still your ears pricked up every time you heard the door to the café ring, desperately hoping it was Joel, but it was never him.

Sarah and her friends were seated at their accustomed table. It distressed you to see Sarah, not knowing how to go and ask her about her dad.

It upset you even more when Gina asked you about him every other day, and more hurt when you had to lie, like “oh he’s just busy,”

But Gina knew better when she saw you with pity in her eyes, that look that told you, I'm sorry he ghosted you.

You had to hold back your tears to keep her from knowing that she was right.

But you broke down the second you locked the room to your room, lighting a cigarette, you placed it between your puffy red lips as the tears streamed down your cheeks,

“Where the hell are you, Joel?” you hit send and threw your phone as you sat on the windowsill, watching the cars go buy,

You got out of the bathroom when you heard your phone ding, you all but ran to the bed, grabbing and swiping it on,

J- “Yeah, just around. How’s everything?”

You were taken aback by the carelessness. As if it wasn't bothering him, as much it was bothering you. As if he didn’t miss you at all like you did. As if it all didn’t matter. As if you didn't matter

“Really? You ghosted me for two weeks and now you're acting all chill?” you replied

Frustration getting the best of you, you wanted to cry again.

J- “Look, I think it’s best for the both of us”

“Fuck what you think, fuck you” you sent

You could feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. You threw your phone on the table before falling on the bed, face first.

The next thing you know is you're sobbing, muffling the sounds with the pillow on your face. You didn't realize how much you were attached to him until now, you didn't know how much you wanted to be with him until now.

You got up to smoke a cigarette to release the stress, but you cried while exhaling puffs of smoke in the air

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him

The next two days were a blur. You avoided spending extra time in the cafe, avoided conversations with your coworkers because they ended up asking about Joel. Your father picked a fight with a random guy just because he took longer to deliver some equipment that he ordered online; it was stupid really. You avoided Sarah too, because she painfully reminded you of Joel

I'm only giving it time, I'll get back to normal eventually, you’d tell yourself

The third day, you were brewing coffee when your phone vibrated, turning it on, your heart dropped to the stomach as you read Joel’s name on it

Quickly you swiped to view the message,

J- “Can we talk?” you felt anxiety rising up. A part of you was excited that he texted while the other part of you was furious, he can't just come and go as he pleases

You were lost in your thoughts when you received another message, J- “please?”

You decided to let things be, he ghosted me for a week, now he wants to talk, he can't expect me to go back running

Putting your phone down, you carried on with your work until it was night.

You closed the cafe as you stepped out, you saw a familiar truck parked beside your car.

Unmistakably Joel.

He stood there leaning against his truck, cigarette smoke around him like a halo. He pushed himself up as he spotted you and he made his way to you.

You stood there frozen. Resisting the strong urge to go and hug him and never let go. But you stood there and waited,

He came close but didn't stop until he was only a few inches away from you. Looking at your face, examining it, eyes running all over your features,

“Sarah said you looked horrible, but God you look worse,” he whispered. Scared if he talks loudly, this all would shatter,

“Like you care?” you retorted.

That's when you saw in his eyes. Regret. Remorse. Before he hung his head down,

Slowly he reached for your hands, hanging on your sides, silently interlacing your fingers. You didn't stop him. You couldn’t

“Please, can we talk?” his voice was small as he looked at you

You nodded

He released a breath, that even he didn’t know he was holding, as he nodded too

With your fingers still interlaced, he tugged you toward his truck. You both walked the distance, hand in hand as you felt droplets of water kissing your skin.

You went rigid making Joel turn and face you, watching you wipe away the water beads from your face. A few more drops on both of you before the rain lashes down.

Joel instinctively became your human shield, as you both ran towards his truck, even though that wouldn’t keep you from drenching, but the action was so Joel. Reaching there, he quickly opened the door for you before getting himself inside from the other side.

Both of your breaths were ragged as you sat in silence.

He ignited the engine bringing his truck to life,

“Where are we going?” you broke the silence

He sighed, “I- uh, had tis place in mind but,” he looked out the window, at the rain, “‘s rainin’ so we can stay in the truck, I guess,”

“What place?” you were confused,

“Y’gonna love it, trus’ me” a small smirk growing in the corner of his lips

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Part: 1 2 3

Tags: @strawberri-blonde

#im never getting over #joel miller #or #the last of us #soft joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 5 months

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Need more positivity on my dash, so I wanna talk a bit more about how fucking amazing OFMD's writing for its characters of color is!

Now, I'm a professional historian (phd student 😔🤘🏾) and I read and watch a lot of historical fiction because I love it, right? And I have literally never seen a piece of historical fiction that is so respectful to its characters of color.

Usually, in works of historical fiction that actually bother to include characters of color, they fall into two big camps. The most common one is trauma porn, where poc only exist so White characters can save them, feel sorry about them, or so White audiences can pat themselves on the back for feeling sorry about them. Also popular are works that include characters of color but don't bother thinking about how race impacts their experiences in historical settings (shows like Bridgerton come to mind; they want to include poc but handwave racism). And in general I prefer the latter but it still takes me out of the story.

But OFMD hits just this amazing balance. There are many characters of color, and the racism of the world they live in impacts their experiences and perspectives in realistic ways. Ed remembering how his mom told him that fine things weren't meant for people like him has me by the fucking throat, it's so tied up in race and class and it's the root of so many of Ed's self-image issues into adulthood. But the real kicker for me - poc always get the last laugh in OFMD. Yes, the racism in this show is often very realistic, but this isn't a realistic show at its core and it is so, so comforting to know a character who starts acting like a racist dickhead is a dead man walking.

It's so carefully written, and for me it's such a huge comfort: race in OFMD is never hand-waved away, and it's thought-provoking and realistic and relatable. But the show always feels so safe because we know racism in the show is never excused. They tell us in the pilot that if you start being a racist asshole, someone's gonna stab you. Even Stede, our main character - when he makes a racist assumption in the second episode of the show, the narrative encourages us to call him out for it and has a character directly call him a fuckin' racist! He's held accountable and he fucking grows, because unlearning racist biases is important and he doesn't get a pass because he's the main character!

It's not just that OFMD has a lot of characters of color. It's not just that one of our main romantic leads is an indigenous Jewish man. It's not just that characters of color are consistently depicted as smart, clean, competent, and respected. It's that the show respects them enough to think about how racism realistically shapes the world of OFMD, while at the same time providing viewers with a wonderful fantasy of racists getting what they deserve. In the genre of historical fiction, it stands out because it completely avoids the trauma porn and hand-wavey angles, and I can't articulate strongly enough how much I appreciate that.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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highhhfiveee · 7 months

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mint (mike schmidt x reader)

*minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is*

tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff

oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!

i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max).

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert.

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world.

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face.

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please."

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more."

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's.

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike.

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly.

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs.

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave.

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something.

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret.

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously?

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey."

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet."

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet.

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off.

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car.

you didn't know how long you could go on like this.

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)

all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt fluff #faire is writing stuff #fnaf fic

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dr-felitas · 24 days

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AQUARIUS

synopsis: in which the both of you get partnered for a mission, but not just as work partners.

pairing: chūya nakahara x fem!reader | wordcount: 2.7k | content & warnings: fluff, mention of chūyas past , choppy writing + no proofead (you can tell when i got lazy + its 3am does it looks like im gonna proofread), unestablished relationship, they work at the pm, cursing (son of a bitch), chūya calls reader a term of endearment once (doll), dual pov | prompt: fake dating | onseshot

event: STARCROSSED 2024

tags: @azullumi hi beloved super cool azul ure so super duper cool. dont flip out but azul liked and rbed ur posts. me: (whys theres no backflip emoji) (we're literally friends). but omg i acc dont have friends im a mess im a loser im a hater im a user

a/n: i finished this at 3am also boo gingers perish /j. hope yall enjoy!!

“so? what are we here for, boss?

the auburn haired man asked. his left hand is glued to his side, resting on his gray waistcoat, his right hand was loosely shoved into the pocket of his dress pants. chuuya cocked his head to the side as he questioned your boss.

“i’ve made my decision.”

the man who was seated in front of you in his claret bergère chair announced. his slender fingers were encased in white adhesive gloves. the palms of his hands were facing down as he rested his chin on the back of his hand, magenta eyes flickering from chuuya and then to you before exhaling quietly and closing his eyes, pale skin draping over his eyes.

“after some back and forth, i’ve come to the conclusion that the most suitable person for this mission will be our dear miss [name]. she’ll be your plus one to the ball, accompanying you to your mission thus also carrying it out with you. gather information about our target and return as soon as possible. understood?”

the man before you asked, a playful smile had found its way on his face and his head was slightly angled to the side as he awaited your agreement.��

“understood.” the both of you said in unison. chuuya took off the fedora that was placed atop of his head with his left hand and put it onto his chest as he closed his eyes and the both of you bowed down.

“very well then. i await good news.” mori continued to smile as he gestured to both of you to take your leave by waving.

when you arrived back home, you immediately spotted two big boxes that were placed in your living room. one of them included a gorgeous dress, although it was a bit plain - a monochrome dress, it was beautiful nevertheless. as you stood up to see how the piece of clothing would fit you, you took notice that it was quite long, the expensive fabric immediately meeting the floor. the material of the dress was sewn a bit tighter to make the waist stand out a bit more.

the other box contained a pair of matching heels in the same color. they weren’t too extravagant but still it seemed like the boss went all out when choosing the clothes. admittedly, you were a bit excited to see what chuuya would wear, would his outfit match with yours?

even though the both of you have worked together in the port mafia for so long and have been executives for a couple years now, the both of you never went on missions together, at least not when it was just the two of you.

chuuya gained the title of portmafia executive at the ripe age of 16, one year after he had joined the portmafia. while you on the other hand have only been an executive for a few years now. chuuyas strength is immense, not only the power of his ability but also his physical strength. he's not only respected but also feared among the members of the portmafia.

so to say that you were a tad bit nervous would be an understatement.

you set foot inside the big mansion, stepping towards the ballroom that was located right behind the doors of the entrance. a big chandelier adorned the ceiling, it illuminated the big room in a saffron-like color. the kaleidoscopic marble floor glittered beneath the opaline light and the large windows were shielded by white translucent curtains, behind them the moon and the stars were sparkling gracefully.

but they don't compare to chuuya - not in the slightest. he’s dressed in a suit that matches your dress, beneath his blazer there was a waistcoat and he doesn't wear his fedora or any other hat.

chuuyas eyes glow like a sapphire, the azul pair of eyes hides so much beneath them, they reach until the depths of the ocean, that is full of mysteries waiting to be uncovered - just like chuuya.

chuuya tenderly held your gloved hand with his left one, leading you to the side of the dance floor where everyone else stood, drinks in their hands as they chattered and laughed. the both of you came to a halt and the conversations stopped, attention solely on you and chuuya.

“my, some new faces. and who might you be? an elderly woman asked, as she took a small sip of her champagne.

“well, my name is chuuya nakahara. it's a pleasure to meet you.” he reached out his right hand to shake hands with the elderly lady. “ah i see. well then, nice to meet-” “the pleasure is all mine!” before she was able to finish her sentence someone interrupted her, chiming into the conversation. you turned your head over to the source of disturbance, a young man who was dressed in all white, hair a bit unkempt as he gave you a boyish smile.

“the pleasure is all mine!” the man repeated happily. “well, i'm sure it is.” chuuya murmured under his breath, giving the man a look that said “we heard you the first time.”

“may i ask who the lovely lady next to you is?” the man asked excitedly as if he had a hard time waiting. “oh you may.” chuuya responded in a faux courtesy tone. “she’s my spouse, my wife actually.” chuuya held up his left hand that was still intertwined with yours.

“chuuya..” you glanced at him from the side, whispering through gritted teeth, as you continued to smile nicely at the other people who were conversing and you could only listen.

“hm what is it?” the auburn haired answers, slightly raising his eyebrow as he turned his head to face you.

“it was supposed to be girlfriend, the boss never said anything about being married.” your voice croaks a bit, overall it seems like tonight your voice has betrayed you, sounding awkward everytime you exchange a word with chuuya.

“oh.” chuuya uttered.

“yeah, oh.” you sighed. the man seemed to take his leave and you continued your talk. “well, what's done is done. it doesn't matter now. let's just continue, carry out the mission successfully and report back to the boss.”

“yeah.” chuuya nods in agreement. “let's split up for now and gather intel and information about our target.”

“alright, i'll go to the other side of the room then and you stay here?” you ask.

“sure thing.” chuuya responds and calls over the waiter, asking for a small glass of wine, so he can pass the time a bit and doesn't only have to mindlessly listen to their boring conversations. after the waiter takes his leave, chuuya notices that you’re still here, next to him. glued to your place, not moving an inch.

“wasn't it your idea to split up? why are you still here? he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

you let out an exasperated sigh. “well, you see, i was trying to. but, someone's hand has been holding onto mine very tightly for the past minutes and won't let go.”

chuuya seemed to catch on pretty quickly and immediately let go of your hand. “m’sorry.” he mumbled. “ah, don't worry.” you cast him a small smile before leaving and step towards the other side of the room.

chuuyas eyes can only follow you. (they always have.)

after you left, his hand felt empty.

(but it's not like they’ve ever felt complete. he hides his hands to conceal his ability, the one that causes tumult and destruction, the one that makes him question if he can even be considered as human. his humanity is one thing chuuya still struggles with, it haunts him like a hunting animal, a wolf running and seeking out its prey, shredding it into pieces and devouring it without any mercy. but in this case chuuya can't help but wonder if he's the wolf who always seeks for the prey - the validation and the reassurance if he's human or if he's the prey that gets tormented by the constant feeling of knowing that he’ll never be (human) enough. for others, himself and you.)

the wine glass that he now holds in his left hand doesn't compare to your hand, it doesn't fill the endless void that chuuya sinks into. (he wonders when he’ll completely be devoured by it and eventually drowns.) your hand was the one that held out to him, the hand that’d pull him out of it, if he himself wasn't able to do so.

(chuuya is used to doing everything on his own, everything that once belonged to chuuya was stripped away from him, like a sheep that has its pelt ripped away from a wolf. his family, his friends, his humanity, they were once his. chuuya nakahara also belonged to him once - now he belongs to the port mafia. it has always been like that; it will always be like that.)

he can't help but grip his glass in envy as he watches you from across the room as you ecstatically laugh and chatter with a woman your age, it looks like you’re enjoying yourself, having the time of your life.

the way you laugh, move around so that the frills of your dress twirl with you, and eyes glimmer make you look majestic.

to chuuya you're not an outworldly creature like an angel that was chosen by the gods and descended from the heavens or a fairy that has magical powers to bewitch him.

you’re human - you’re more human than anyone else chuuya has ever encountered in his life, perhaps that is when chuuya really realized what it meant to be a human.

the raw and pure nature of humans was perfectly depicted in you.

the way you flawlessly managed to do every task you were assigned with and always came back with a bright grin plastered across your face, the way you always looked out for everyone, the way you sometimes went completely batshit during missions. you’re what chuuya has always imagined under being a human. (or perhaps all of his beliefs of being human have changed as soon as he saw you.)

you’re the large white and empty canvas that waits patiently until it gets filled with tons of colors. chuuya is the artist who holds the paintbrush in his hand, fingers trembling as he draws paint strokes along the canvas. pouring his heart out into the painting, vivid colors full of emotion, that say more than a thousand words ever could. chuuyas art makes paintings come to life - you. his muse, whom he could stare at for an eternity during an art exhibition, just like now during the ball.

you’re beautiful.

“mr. nakahara?” a male voice made him snap out of his haze, upon seeing who it was, chuuya almost spat out the red wine. great, it was the guy from before. “yes? how can i help you”? chuuya gives him an unimpressed look as he twirls the alcoholic liquid in his glass around. “I just wanted to ask if i’d be permitted to dance with your spouse. she's a really lovely woman, i felt quite bad for her because you didn't invite her to one single dance yet, even though you're her husband!” the man looks at him unapologetically.

son of a bitch.

but again, who was chuuya to judge? chuuya isn't in any position to forbid you to dance with someone, after all, the two of you weren't even together, the two of you were just partners, work partners to be precise.

still, there was something that stirred inside chuuyas gut that made him feel uneasy. an ugly feeling that made his gut churn. is this how jealousy feels? sure, chuuya has felt jealous a few times. seething in envy as he saw people with good relationships to their friends and families, people who were allowed to live a normal life, living just like a normal civilian, doing normal things, without having to worry. chuuya couldn't help but feel jealous.

but this time it's another type of jealousy, he’s not jealous of other people because they own something he doesn't but he’s jealous of the people who’re just as smitten for you as him.

“ah, well you see. i was just about to go and ask her for a dance. please excuse me.” his words are bitter and the glass of red wine is long forgotten, placing it onto the round table which is covered by a big white table cloth.

chuuya makes his way over where you stand, your cheeks are tinted in a rosy color, from the alcohol he assumes. your hair is a bit disheveled, have you played with the strands of your hair? but nevertheless, you continue to shine as beautifully as ever.

he tips you onto your shoulder and upon that you slightly flinch and turn around, eyes widening a bit when you see chuuya. “what are you doing here?” you whisper.

the auburn haired man doesn’t respond to your question, instead he bows down and reaches out his hand out to yours. “may i ask for this dance? after all, it takes two to tango.” chuuya thanks the gods that instead of facing you right now, he's facing the floor. he's not sure if he'd be able to bear it if you saw his flushed face.

your mouth shapes into a little “o” before responding. “sure.” you hum as you happily place your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. upon feeling your touch, chuuya immediately pulls you towards the dance floor. your movements start off clumsily but chuuya helps you gain and maintain your balance, swaying you around the dance floor and twirling you around, as the both of you dance hand in hand. one of his hands is placed on your waist and your hand has found its home on his shoulder.

chuuya continues to sway you around during a slow classical music piece. “i'd prefer some hard rock music.” you can hear chuuyas' little remark and cant help but laugh upon that, it distracts you from keeping your balance and tempo, almost tripping over the long fabric of your dress.

“careful, doll. you're gonna slip.” chuuya whispers. his warm breath fans against your ear, the heat rises through your whole body, making you shudder and your goosebump hairs stand up. you can only hum at that, too taken aback by the term of endearment, to properly respond.

the both of you slow your pace, your hands wrapping around his neck and his hands snaking around your waist to sway around. you put your forehead against his chest first, until you fully lean into his embrace.

this moment feels too intimate. that’s everything chuuya can think about, he’s scared that one day you too will also be ripped away from him, he doesn’t want that. chuuya likes you a lot, he adores the way you hum the sweet melody against his chest, the way your hands accidentally keep slipping off his neck but still return there every time, the way you sometimes step onto his foot but he stays quiet, yeah he’s absolutely whipped for you - he loves you.

but, is someone who’s out of this world, a non-human, who only moves in the shadows of the world, allowed to love a human, who lives their life freely?

chuuya doesn't know.

your line of work is dangerous, you could always encounter dangers that’d have a terrible outcome and chuuya wouldn't be there to prevent them, again, he’d lose everything that makes him human. chuuya isn’t sure if he’s able to live through this once again.

the both of you are work partners, crossing this line would come with its consequences.

but he allows himself to indulge in this moment, just this once. humans are greedy and selfish aren't they? it's in their nature. so being selfish for once, just this one time, just for you, wouldn’t mean committing a sin, would it?

chuuya buries his face into your hair, inhaling your shampoo, it smells sweet - the saccharine scent makes him relax. he presses a chaste kiss on top of your head, before gently continuing to sway you around.

after all, this is what work partners do, right?

e/n: tbh i didnt like this at all. it was so choppy just sentence after sentence without a real plot imo. i just didnt like how this turned out at all but i dont think id be able to write smth else or else itd turn out even worse

#toorurs #— STARCROSSED 2024 !!#bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd fluff #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya nakahara fluff #chuuya x you #chuuya x fem!reader

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7s3ven · 3 months

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ATHENA'S GIRL. luke (pjo) - pt 3

trailer > part 1 > part 2 > part 3

( master list )

IN WHICH... Luke has to finally acknowledge his growing fondness for Y/N while she does the opposite and pushes her feelings down in order to fit her mother’s expectations.

"Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you. I see you changing from how I've designed you. Have you forgotten your purpose?"

Warnings : Y/N swears a lot

—

Y/N was the talk of the town after Athena oh-so dramatically claimed her. She didn’t even have to spend a single hour in the rowdy Hermes cabin.

The H/C-haired girl turned her head, looking around at her surroundings. Her heart almost did a leap of joy when her gaze landed in the rows of books that seemed to fill the cabin up to its capacity.

“Excuse me, which bed should I take- Oh. Okay. You’re walking away. Yeah, just act like you don’t hear me. It’s fine.” Y/N watched as the young girl brushed past her without a single word, ignoring her question. Judging by the state of some of the beds, Y/N assumed the neater mattresses were the ones available.

She set her things down on the squeaky floorboards, sighing. She didn’t have much with her; only a novel and some spare change as well as her school textbooks. It looked like she wouldn’t be needing this anymore.

Y/N sat in the edge of the mattress, pressing her lips into a thin line when she felt a spring break. “Man, I hate it here already.”

Y/N felt even lonelier at meals. None of her so-called siblings wanted to associate themselves with her. She could feel their envious stares on her as they constantly whispered how they could’ve easily solved a murder case. Finally, Y/N had enough.

She placed her silverware done, tensely smiling while clasping her hands together. “Are you guys familiar with Nabokov’s work?” She piped up, catching the attention of everybody at the rickety wooden table. They each turned to each other, confused.

“He’s like… a German poet, right?” A boy replied, furrowing his eyebrows together as if Y/N’s inquiry were stupid.

She shook her head. He was the stupid one. “I found a clue in one of his books. And the nationality of the writer helped quite a bit in unpacking it. But none of you seem to know Nabokov so I doubt you could’ve solved the mystery. I solved a crime in under an hour, slayed a dragon, and easily killed a happy. What have you guys done? Made friendship bracelets?”

One of the kids hid their untidily made bracelet, thickly gulping as if he was self-conscious.

Y/N was about to turn back to her food before someone else spoke up. “Vladimir Nabokov was a Russian author, best known for his work Lolita. Or rather, infamously known because it’s quite a controversial piece.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered to the kid with pretty brown eyes and long, braided hair. “Three movie adaptations were made, all of them equally hated to no one’s surprise.” The younger girl added, causing Y/N to smile.

She stabbed a string bean as she shrugged, “It’s always the Russians pulling some sort of weird crap.”

“Language.” Another teenager uttered. Y/N turned her head to stare at the boy, unimpressed. She raised her brows in an almost pocking sort of way.

“Fuck… off.” Y/N tauntingly smiled, causing Annabeth to lightly snort. “Don’t you guys fight monsters? I’m sure you can take a bit of swearing. Can't you?" She leaned forward, "Listen here, you little bitch. I dealt with Castellan's shit for months. You think I can't take you and your stupid ass now?"

"Colorful language you've got there, writer. As always. You gonna use it in your next global article?" Luke placed a heavy hand on Y/N's shoulder as he quietly chuckled. "Hey, Akut," The Hermes boy turned his attention to the teenage boy, "I wouldn't mess with this one. She's fierce. And she was best friends with Clarisse for a while."

A flash of fear crossed Akut's face at Clarisse’s name. “I was only teasing. Jeez.” He grumbled to himself, shrinking back. “She doesn’t have to be such a whiny bitch about it.”

Luke clicked his tongue, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“A whiny bitch? Oh, I’ll give you a whiny bitch, punk!” Y/N grabbed her plate that still had a decent amount of food on it and slammed it into Akut’s face. “How’s that, huh?!”

“She could be Ares’ kid with that anger.” Chris whispered to Luke.

“She’s probably still adjusting to camp… you know how it is.” Luke’s gaze stayed glued on Y/N as she whacked Akut across the place with a goblet. His eyebrows raised in partial surprise but he did nothing to stop her. Akut was asking for it anyway.

Luke felt Annabeth tug on his sleeve and he slightly leaned down to listen to her over all the shouting because some other Athena kids were trying to pull Y/N off Akut. “I like her.” Annabeth murmured, “She reminds me of Thalia… a little bit. Thalia never had such strong rage, though.”

Luke chuckled under his breath as he ruffled the young girl’s hair. “Guess it’s time to finally stop this before she ends up killing poor Akut.” Luke grasped the back of Y/N’s orange shirt, pulling her back. “Chiron and Mr D are gonna have a mean jab at you, writer.”

Y/N merely scoffed as she wiped away the blood smeared across her chin. Akut had blindly punched in her direction and landed a lucky shot. “He deserved it.” She muttered, eyes flickering to Akut’s bruised face.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you cleaned up before Chiron whoops your ass. You, get Akut some nectar.” Luke sternly pointed at a nearby Ares kid before he dragged Y/N towards the infirmary. He had patched up Annabeth enough to know what he was doing.

Y/N was silent as Luke wiped her lip with a towel soaked in alcohol. She quietly winced but that was the only noise she made. Luke gently dabbed the cloth against her split skin, being mindful of how hard he pressed.

“What? Not gonna snap at me this time? I’m waiting for you to tell me that I’m holding the towel wrong.” Luke joked but Y/N simply shrugged and let him continue.

Luke’s gaze raked over her suddenly soft and deer-like features. In this moment, she almost seemed peaceful. He had seen many different versions of Y/N. The stressed one, the annoyed one, and the bloodied one. But never calm version until now. Without the biting remarks and sharp tongue, Luke couldn’t deny that she was beautiful.

He heard Y/N clear her throat. She raised her brows, as if questioning why his actions suddenly halted. “Y/N… you’re pretty. Did you know that?” He found himself accidentally whispering his thoughts but the look of shock swirling around in Y/N’s eyes made it worth it. Her eyes softened slightly before she looked away.

“Are you just gonna stand there like an idiot, Castellan?” She asked, glancing at him again.

“You’re just too good-looking, writer.” Luke teasingly uttered before going back to cleaning Y/N’s small injury. “You better behave yourself after this, though. Chiron will end up punishing you for attacking Akut, even if he started it with words.”

“He just got on my nerves. Everybody does. They all whisper and say they could easily do the stuff I did, knowing fully well they probably couldn’t.” Y/N’s lips curled into a scowl, “I just got ripped away from my life, from my school, and probably from my dream of attending Harvard. How did you think I’d react?”

“To be honest, I thought you’d be less violent. Must’ve been all your pent up rage.”

Y/N’s angry eyes turned to Luke and for a moment, he was scared she’d attack him. But they softened and suddenly, Luke was aware of how close they were. He could easily lean down and kiss her.

The duo were interrupted when Annabeth walked through the open door. She took in Luke’s wistful expression and Y/N’s slightly flushed cheeks but didn’t comment on it.

“I thought I’d come and introduce myself.” She uttered, “I’m Annabeth. You’re pretty good at fighting, did you know that?”

“The orphanage was run by a strange woman… she taught us how to fight and all sorts of crazy things.” Y/N clicked her tongue.

“Well, anyway, I think what you did was your quest was impressive. Rarely any newbies can say they slaughtered a monster, let alone two.”

Y/N lightly smiled at the young girl. “Thank you.”

Luke pouted, poking Y/N’s shoulder. “How come you aren’t this nice to me, writer?”

“Because you’re an idiot, Castellan. And you merely existing annoys me.” She sent Luke a pointed look while Annabeth muffled a snicker. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Y/N hopped off the bed, “I’m going to finish Akut or whatever his stupid, hideous name is.” She walked out of the infirmary before Luke could grab her.

“Are you going to stop her?” Annabeth questioned, raising her eyebrows.

“… Nah, I kind of what to see how this ends.”

It did not end good. Akut ended up needing stitches and Y/N was dragged into Chiron’s office while Mr D and a few Ares kids betted on who would win in a fight; Y/N or a random Aphrodite girl. The answer was obvious.

Y/N lay in her bed, half asleep yet half conscious. She rolled over, hitting her forehead on the wall next to her but she didn’t bother to open her eyes.

She wasn’t sure when she ended up in a temple made entirely out of white marble with pink veins running through the slabs of stone. Fluffy clouds floated around and Y/N waved them aside to see who the two figures standing in the distance were. She instantly recognised Athena but the short woman with beautiful locks of curly blond hair standing next her was unfamiliar.

“Mom?” Y/N carefully called out, causing Athena’s head to turn.

“Back so soon, my dear?” She asked in that calming, silky voice.

“Where are we?” Y/N questioned, furrowing her eyebrows. Athena didn’t get the chance to reply because her companion, whose blond hair was now brown and pale skin tanned, answered for her.

“You’re in my temple, of course!” She joyfully clasped her hands together while Athena kept her calm composure.

“It seems you are unfamiliar with the goddess of love, my dear.”

Everything seemed to click in Y/N’s mind. “Aphrodite.” She breathed.

“That’s why she’s your daughter and not mine, even with how pretty she is.” Aphrodite let out a giggle, gracefully grinning and showing off her pearly white teeth. In the beautiful goddess’ presence, Y/N felt inferior.

“Um… if it’s not crossing a boundary, I’d like to ask why I’m here.” Y/N piped up as she stepped closer to the deity duo. “Every time I fall asleep, I end up in different places.”

“Something seems to be troubling you. Oh, is it love problems? Because I can solve anything!” Aphrodite, as gleeful as ever, beckoned Y/N forward. “It’s that Hermes boy, isn’t it! Aw, I knew you two would end up in a thrilling and cute romance!” Aphrodite jumped around as she gushed over what Y/N and Luke could possibly become.

Y/N stole a small glance at her mother only to flinch at Athena’s furious facial expression. “Aphrodite, some privacy please.” Athena uttered, lifting a hand that seemed to hush the goddess of love.

“Oh…” Aphrodite seemed to hesitate before she nodded, “Of course.” Her body faded away into a mass of pink glitter and Y/N was left alone with her mother.

“So, you and this Hermes boy?” Athena quirked an eyebrow which made Y/N shrink back.

“We’re nothing, mother. I don’t even like him that much. To be honest, he’s annoying and he talks too much.”

Yet, Athena was not convinced. “I have created a clear pathway for you, my dear. Annabeth is a bright girl but I want you to be my star pupil. However, if you choose not to follow in my footsteps, then you will merely be only another disappointment.”

Y/N stiffened. Failure was her worst fear, whether it be within a school exam or being unable to meet someone’s expectations. She had never failed and she was not about to start now. With reluctance, she turned to Athena. “What do I have to do?”

Y/N quickly opened her eyes, quietly panting. She found herself back in the cabin and a sigh of relief slipped past her lips. She lay awake in her bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling. She could hear light snores coming from her siblings and while the crackling sound of fire was supposed to calm her nerves, it didn’t. Eventually, Y/N rose.

She made an effort to keep quiet as she slipped past the cabin’s front door and into the chilly night air.

“Can’t sleep, huh?”

Y/N almost let out a loud shriek when she turned around only to almost crash into a certain Hermes boy. He had oh-so coincidentally been standing on the Athena’s cabin porch.

“What are you doing here?” She quietly hissed, on edge from both her dream and seeing the very boy her mother despised.

“I had a feeling you couldn’t sleep. The first few days are always the worst. You’re homesick and you’re also stuck with the realisation that you probably won’t ever go back.” Luke’s grin was visibly in the dim light coming from his lantern. “If I’m being honest, I was just on patrol duty and you happened to step out while I passed by.”

Y/N fidgeted with her fingers as she slowly sat down on the squeaky porch, wincing as it creaked. “What was the first night like for you?” She slowly questioned, staring up at Luke.

He shrugged. “Hard. I missed my mom and my friends and, well, Thalia.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side at the mentioning of Thalia’s name. “Who’s that?”

Luke paused before he glancing over at the lonesome tree on the hill. “This is going to sound stupid to you but she’s that tree. She was my friend while I was on the run from monsters. We then found Annabeth. Our satyr guide led us here but we were being chased by monsters. Thalia fought some of them off but there were too many… she would’ve died if it were for her father, Zeus, saving her.”

“He turned her into a fucking tree.” Y/N deadpanned.

Luke quietly groaned, “That’s the same ready Percy had as well. Why did the king of the gods turn his daughter into a tree of all things to save her life? I don’t know. I ain’t Zeus. Yeah, a tree is stupid but hey, at least she’s not dead.” Luke sarcastically smiled while Y/N remained unamused.

“I would rather die than become a tree.” She replied, “Imagine all your leaves falling during winter. You’re basically bald then.”

“If you were a tree, I’d cut you down.” Luke snapped back before he could still himself.

“So, Thalia. Tell me more about her.” Y/N abruptly switched topics.

“She was a little fiery and prideful but that’s expected of Zeus’ daughter. To be honest, she was a little bit like you. She seemed to have a soft spot for Annabeth. I think she preferred Annabeth over me.”

“Wow, what a shocker. I prefer Annabeth too.”

“I was young back then but I’m pretty sure I had a crush on Thalia. She could get me to do anything with one look.” Luke slowly trailed off while Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. Her heart felt unexpectedly heavy and for a moment, she thought she was sick.

“I should go to bed now. I’m feeling tired.” She stood up, stretching her stiff limbs. “See you later, Castellan.” Y/N walked back into her cabin before Luke could reply. He watched her disappear, leaving him standing alone in front of the porch.

He sighed. “Good night to you too, writer.”

Y/N was in the bathroom, washing her face tired face, when somebody else entered. They awkwardly stood behind her for a few moments before clearing their throat.

Y/N opened her eyes and wiped away the beads of water that dripped down her chin.

“You did some mean damage on Akut.”

In the mirror’s reflection, Y/N could see a pretty Ares girl with long, curled hair and a camp t-shirt a size too big. She was shorter than Y/N, not by much, but the H/C-nette still had to look down.

Clarisse had changed a lot but Y/N could still recognise that familiar glimmer in her old friend’s eyes.

“So this is where you disappeared off to?” Y/N questioned as Clarisse stepped closer. The brunette was now standing beside Y/N, leaning against the sink next to her with her arms folded over her chest.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” Clarisse uttered, her gaze looking Y/N up and down, “You’ve grown… a lot.”

“So have you, Clari. You look good.”

“You look better. You might turn me lesbian. It’s a shame you like Luke.”

Y/N paused and furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t like Luke.” She said, but it was mainly to reassure herself. She heard Clarisse laugh.

“He’s all you look at. For a daughter of Athena, you aren’t too smart on this topic.”

Y/N remained stone-faced as she calmly turned to look at Clarisse. “I don’t like him.” She repeated, this time firmer.

Clarisse hummed as if she wasn’t convinced. “He’s always looking at you, by the way. You being claimed means he sees you less and I think he misses you. But you shouldn’t care. You don’t like him.” She teasingly smiled as she applied a heavy layer of gloss onto her lips.

Y/N said nothing as she looked away, splashing another handful of cold water onto her face.

“You probably remind him of Thalia. Headstrong and stubborn.”

Y/N let Clarisse’s words sink in before she opened her mouth. “I’m not Thalia.” She quietly muttered. “I remind Luke of Thalia. I remind Annabeth of Thalia. But I’m not her. My identity is not tied to Zeus’ half-blood daughter.” Y/N clenched her hands into fists. “It was nice catching up, Clari. Next time we talk, we should tell each other about our lives after we parted.”

Y/N dabbed her face with a soft cotton towel as she walked back to the Athena cabin, almost groaning at the sight of Luke. “What are you doing here? Again?” She demanded, kicking his ankle.

“Woah! Hey, I’m waiting for Annabeth. I’m not here to annoy you. Yet.” Luke grinned as he leaned against a wall. Or he tried to, at least. He underestimated the distance and ended up falling.

“Smooth, Castellan.” Y/N sarcastically said as she towered over him.

“Thanks, writer. I try.” Luke coolly played his embarrassing mistake off while Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Luke, what are you doing?” Annabeth pushed open the door, arching an eyebrow at the boy who was sprawled across the floor.

“Y/N pushed me.”

Y/N scoffed, “I did not. You fell by yourself, Castellan. Like an idiot, might I add.” She brushed past Annabeth.

“You like her.” Annabeth blurted out as soon as Y/N was out of earshot. It was more of a harsh statement than anything else.

“I do not.”

“You do. What about Thalia? Why don’t you like her anymore?”

Luke furrowed his brows as he glanced at Thalia’s tree. “Thalia’s a tree, Annabeth. I have to move on at some point.”

Annabeth clenched her hands into fists as she glared at Luke. “I don’t want you to move on!”

Luke was confused as to why Annabeth was acting this way. He knew she missed Thalia but she had never burst into a fit. “Annabeth… I have to. You said you liked Y/N.”

“I do… but she’s not Thalia.”

Y/N woke up covered in a thin layer of sweat. She quietly panted. Her dreams were all the same now and depicted Athena ruthlessly lecturing her over and over again to the point where Y/N felt a little scared.

She heard someone shift in their bed. “Are you okay?” Y/N heard Annabeth whisper from across the room.

Y/N gave herself a moment to catch her breath before she sighed. “Yeah… just a bad dream, you know? I’m going outside for a bit.” Y/N kicked the covers off her body, shakily standing up.

“Thalia wouldn’t do that.” Annabeth muttered, “She doesn’t like going outside after nightmares.”

Y/N bit back an annoyed huff. “I’m not Thalia, Annabeth. I never will be her. You and Luke should let it go.” She walked out of the cabin, resisting the urge to slam the door.

“Oh, wow. This is just creepy. Are you sure you aren’t stalking me?” Luke grinned while Y/N sarcastically smiled. She sat down on the steps.

“Does Annabeth always go around and comparing people to Thalia?” She was straight forward and blunt. Luke clicked his tongue as he took the spot next to her.

“Not really… no.“

“Do you see me as Thalia?”

“I see Thalia in you but I know how to tell the difference between you too. Listen, Annabeth was attached to Thalia. And with new things coming to light, she’s on guard.”

Y/N turned to look at Luke, gazing at him in confusion. “New things?” She questioned.

“New… feelings.”

“… New feelings for Thalia the tree?”

Luke held his face in his hands as he groaned. “How are you a daughter of Athena? I’m giving you all the hints, writer.”

Y/N only raised her eyebrows. “I see no hints. All I see is your infatuation with a tree that was once a girl.”

“I like you.” Luke blurted out, unable to withstand any more of her obliviousness. “I don’t like Thalia. Maybe I did before but like I told Annabeth, I have to move on.”

Y/N was silent. She stared ahead while Luke awaited her reaction. Finally, Y/N said something. “You can’t like me… you don’t know me, Luke.”

“But I do! I know your favourite food and I know your favourite book. I know when people ask what your favourite colour is, you say it’s stupid to have one but your favourite colour is actually (insert)! I know you hate parties but you also want to feel like a normal teenager. And I know your favourite drink is (insert) yet the best one you’ve tried is in that cafe across from the school. I know things you didn’t know that I knew”- Luke cut himself off with a small sigh. “My point is I know you!”

“Did you mean you know things I didn’t know you knew about me?”

“Yes!” Luke quietly hissed, not wanting to be too loud in case he woke up the Athena kids. They wouldn’t be too happy about that. “And I know that you like correcting people’s grammar because the only paper you scored a B on was because you made grammar mistakes. You think you’re helping people but they think you’re a know-it-all. Though, when you explain your intentions, they realize you were only trying to help.”

Y/N stared at Luke with her lips parted. “Are you stalking me?” She murmured.

“No… yes? It was part of my quest, writer. I had to.”

“Well, that’s not creepy at all.”

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying? I just said I like you and you called me creepy.”

“You are for knowing all that information about me!”

“Okay, okay.” Luke held his hands up in surrender, “Truce. I really do like you, writer.”

“And here I thought you hated me. What was up with all our bickering then?”

“It was the only way to get your attention. And, I must admit, I did feel a little jealous of you. You were so good at everything… and I’m only good at swinging a sword around.” Luke’s gaze flickered to the ground. He thickly swallowed before lifting his head again. He quickly realized how close he was to Y/N, their foreheads almost butting against each other.

“Do you really like me, Cast-Luke?” Y/N quickly corrected herself. Luke could feel a grin stretch across his lips. Y/N had never called him by his first name before. It was always Castellan this, Castellan that.

“I do. I like you, Y/N. I really, really like you.”

“Okay.” Y/N whispered, slowly leaning forward. She was afraid of what her mother would say but when her lips met Luke’s, suddenly she didn’t care.

All that mattered were Luke’s hands trailing up to grab her waist and the smile that spread across his face like gleeful wildfire.

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hirsheyskisses · 8 months

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im happy you're taking reqs! love your writing ❣️

could you write hcs for Law with a s/o who knits? or likes making clothing generally, and they make him clothes with hearts, jolly rogers (*´ω｀)

(plus if he wants attention he'd lay on their lap to take their attention from the fabrics to him)

tysm again!!

Knit My Heart.

TRAFALGAR LAW x READER

A/N: OK I don't knit, I crochet, so I am VERYYY UNFAMILIAR WITH THE TERMINOLOGY so I mostly avoided it, so I hope this is mostly accurate!

(Short Scenario)

♡ you have absolutely made their entire winter wardrobe. Jackets, puffy shirts, all of varying colors that compliement each individual member, with the inevitable Jolly Roger of the crew.

♡ law brought you on the crew part because of your skill with knit and fixing clothes, part because of a personal interest he'd gained after talking to you in your parents clothing shop for hours.

♡ to no surprise, you're his lover.

♡ he finds it fascinating how into your creations you can get, as if nothing else mattered in the world.

"You've been at it for hours.. your hands are gonna cramp."

Temporarily, the doctors voice had your attention. Kind eyes met his own as you'd reply, "'s okay! My hands feel fine, I know when to stop. I've even stayed hydrated," gesturing to the tea Penguin had insisted on bringing you every other hour. He sighed, shaking his head.

"Not the point," Law moved to sit beside you on your bed, a hand moving to your thigh, watching you work the yarn. He wasn't sure what you were making: it looked small, like a hat, and it was currently black with an oncoming white patch.

Just as quickly as he'd had your attention, you were back in your world of focus, needles dancing together with the yarn, humming softly.

For a long time, Law stayed there, watching you work your magic. He himself was currently wearing the cute little wrist warmers you'd made him when he'd grumbled about how cold his wrists were. They were white with the Jolly Roger, edges decorated with cute little hearts. He could see the hat coming to life. Law loved how each piece had his Jolly Roger, and he admired the love you put into each and every piece.

However.. Law didn't like how the pieces also stole your attention from him.

It was comical, actually. Never once jealous when you interacted with other men, never once jealous when other men hit on you, because Law knows he's the lucky man who has your heart. (He does however, step in when your safety appears to be in jeopardy.) He brushes off other women to seek you out in the crowds. Never jealous of your interactions with his crew-

- no, he's jealous of your hobby and a cake of yarn.

Law feels like an idiot but.. not much he can do about his feelings, except take matters into his own hands.

Slowly he kicks off his shoes, and positions himself comfortably on your bed before dropping his head in your lap.

"Hmm?" You glanced at him, lifting your work to see his face. Law clearly had a bit of a pout, but seeing your beautiful smile slowly turned his expression soft, lips tugging up as he raised a tattooed hand to cup your face, then let his finger trace down your jaw, your neck, before wrapping it around your body. "Nothin'. Just appreciating the view." The doctor responded, relishing your laugh as he traced his fingers up your side, "that tickles, Law!"

"I know." The former small grin widened a bit as he adjusted a bit to press his face into your stomach, and you clearly got the memo. Setting your project to the side, you reached down and snatched his hat, you plopped it on your head, the brim resting over your eyes.

"My hat now," you teased, and Law snorted, "looks better on ya anyways. ..just take care of it." He said that every time, visibly relaxing as your hand made its way to his hair and began to slowly massage his scalp,

"..if ya wanted attention.. ya could've just asked, Law."

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #heart pirates #heart pirates x reader

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plush-rabbit · 29 days

Text

Word Count: 3.5K A/N: No name again!! Part Three this time. Woo! Um, I just miss writing. I have some request that I wanna do, and like honestly, i need to make time. And I'm slowly making time! So, one day. I wanna write an Adam chapter, but like idk. Like I could. I'm the writer, but like also, I wanna do this other one, and like i thought it was gonna be super quick, but ya know me. I like words and sounding deep. So who knows. It gets like updated whenever its slow at work, so one day.

You pace around the room that you occupy. It doesn’t feel like home. You’re afraid nothing will ever feel like home again. You look at yourself in the mirror, and trace your tongue over your sharpened teeth, and you can’t recall the change to them- whether they grew into fangs during your fall, or when you were in your unconscious state.

“‘S probably why my jaw hurt so much,” you mumble to yourself.

Despite not showing much interest in most things, Lucifer has brought it upon himself to make your room as comfortable as possible. He’s brought candles, and pillows to add color. He’s brought you different types of creams and perfumes for you to try, telling you to let him know what scent you like best. The shower adjacent to your room is kept clean, and stocked full of sweet smelling soaps. Your closet is full of clothes, so soft that you played with the fabric between your fingers until you feared you’d ruin them with your nails.

While your back no longer aches like it once did, you still avoid looking at it. The morbid curiosity to touch it grows every second, but you can only let your fingers ghost against the edges of the scars, feeling the pulled skin against yours, chills making your body rise. You feel bile in your throat when you touch a scar that runs thin and farther down your back- skin that stayed stuck and only released when it was far too thin and weak to hold on any longer.

It’s sensitive, and almost ticklish. The tags of shirts make you uncomfortable, and you gently pat yourself dry after showers. You stare at the fogged mirror after every shower, and you have yet to wipe it clean and turn around to see what you’ve lost.

Lucifer has assured you that it’s not nearly as rough as it once was. Perhaps he’s right about that. Yet, you hate that he knows what you’re going through. You hate that you can’t be angry at him, that you can’t throw a fit and tell him that he doesn’t understand. But he does. He’s one of the few that will understand what you’re feeling, and you can’t bring yourself to talk to him.

There’s a knock on your door, and you look away from the mirror. “Come in,” you say out loud, already knowing who is on the other side- speak of the devil, and he shall appear. You give a small smile as Lucifer walks in with a tray of food, taking careful steps to not let the drinks topple over.

“I brought dinner,” he says with a smile.

You sit on the bed, legs crossed and watch as he places the tray over your lap. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you say. There are two plates, two sets of cutlery, and two drinks. Once again, he’ll be having dinner with you in the confines of your room.

Lucifer takes his place in the chair beside you, and with a wave holds the plate in his hand, carefully balancing it as he holds the silvered fork in the other hand. Your fingers wrap over the silver, as you poke and prod at the food.

“I hope you like it,” he says. “It’s been a while since I cooked anything, so I’m hoping it’s good for you.”

You pierce the food with the prongs of the fork. “I didn’t know you cooked,” you mumble, before taking a bite of your meal. The taste is savory, melting on your tongue, and you cut another piece before even swallowing the first one.

“It’s been a while.” Silver clinks against porcelain in a melody, behind his words. “It’s been ages since I’ve had proper meals.” You catch his eye, and he clears his throat. “Running Hell is a bit of a task. Hardly ever lets me enjoy my peace,” he says quietly, nudging his food with the sharpened point of the fork.

“I can’t imagine the type of work it takes to run it all,” you reply, wrapping your lips around another forkful of food.

Lucifer hums in response, and you take a sip of your drink. He hardly ever talks about Hell in detail. He’ll focus the conversation on you, trying to pry out your interests and likes. At times, he’ll talk about his daughter, Charlie. He tells you how she’s off somewhere in the Pride Ring, about how she was when she was young, how he would have her sit on his lap and watch as he’d tinker in his office. The stories are always in past tense, and you never like hearing the sorrow that are entangled in his words. Not only that, there’s a lack of mention of his wife, despite the ring that he still wears.

The conversation comes to a still, and you frown.

Dinners in Heaven were hardly ever quiet. There’d always be some type of noise, some gentle hum of a song, laughter, talk about slaughter that made you queasy. You’d eat with Adam most nights. Some nights you were accompanied by Lute and you always welcomed those shared meals, where she’d sit beside you, her wings folded neatly behind her, compared to Adam’s prodigious wings which graced the floor. She’d remove her mask when dining, and would grace you with a gentle smile.

Home was the only place you’d ever see Adam without his mask. The horns curved and the bright lights a warning against others, looking down on others with heavenly light. He’d wear his mask in public, it was loud and showed who he was. Newer souls always looked at him with awe, and he hungered for the way that they would trip over themselves to speak to him. They may not have known his title, but they knew he was important, they felt the power that he held, the authority that he carried. He was someone to be admired. He was someone that you wanted to be around with.

Even though you were just an angel, you didn’t hold power that others didn’t already have. But Adam still chose you, and you chose him.

You should have chosen to run away when you had the chance.

The food tastes bitter, and you drop the fork, the clinking making your flinch and turn your head. Your name is whispered, and a hand places itself over your arm. Your eyes are shut tight, and you feel like a fool. “Are you all right?” Lucifer asks in a soft voice.

You suck in your lip, teasing it between your teeth. “No, I’m sorry, Lucifer.” You shake your head and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over. Turning to him, you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m fine, I’m sorry. I was-” your voice wavers, and you cover your eyes with your hand- “remembering Heaven. I remembered how my meals-” tears drip down, and you wave your hand. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to cry.”

With a wave of his hand, the tray of food, and his own plate disappears from your sight. It’s quiet for a moment, and he pushes his seat closer to your bed before breaking the silence. “Do you think of Heaven often?” Shamefully, you nod. “What do you miss?”

Adam. You peek at him between your fingers, and when he hands you a tissue, you take it wordlessly. “The view,” you answer. The tissue dabs at your eyes, and you let your hands fall beside you. Fingertips nudge against your hand, a silent encouragement to continue to speak. Your fingers jump, and there’s a sudden urge to take his hand in comfort. Rather, you let your nails scrap against the bedsheets.

“When I was still-” Lucifer’s voice pauses to take a breath- “I would sneak off to this forest. I’d watch all of his creations frolic among the fields. I’d have a few of my own creations rest against me. It was serene.”

You stretch your legs, and pull the blanket over your lower half. “I was a lower rank angel,” you start. “No one hardly needed me unless they wanted me to fetch something. But there was-” you bit your bottom lip and flicker your eyes towards Lucifer who listens with his attention on you- “an angel who would take me to see the stars.” You smile softly, and rub the corner of the tissue between your index and thumb. “It was a vast space, where the sky was lit by the radiance of the stars. It was the first time anyone thought of doing something for me,” you say out loud.

“You were an angel, were you not?” Lucifer asks, his body leaning towards you, a hand wrapping around your wrist, and you let him take your wrist.

“Just an angel, nothing more. I don’t even know why he was so nice to me.” You smile at him, but you look away, smiling at the end of the bed. “I still don’t get it.” He was praised for so much, given everything and perhaps that’s what made his ego bigger than what it needed to be. “But he was kind to me.”

“Another angel?” He sounds surprised. You wonder what angels were like back in his days.

“A higher ranking than I,” you shrug with your answer. There’s a reason why he was able to get away with so much.

“For all that Heaven was, the views were ethereal.” You hum in response. It’s silent, and his shoes tap against the floor. “I’m sorry that Hell doesn’t have views like those.” His thumb arches over your wrist, and you dig your nails into your palm.

You stay silent beside him. Heaven’s land and warmth, nothing but a memory for you to return to. The room smells of rosemary and wine, and your blankets are thick in the stench of it. You turn to him. “Lucifer, why don’t we eat at the table?”

He stiffens at your voice, his mouth opening and closing without an answer. “I didn’t know you wanted to,” he replies.

“I’m stuck in this room all day, I want-” more is what you want, more than the four walls of your bedroom- “I want to see the other rooms. I’m not like I was before. I can move now.”

His eyes scan over your body, and with a nod, he clears his throat. “Okay,” he nods once more. “Breakfast will be in the dining room. I’ll be here to walk you at the usual time that I arrive.”

“Thank you, Lucifer,” you say kindly, a smile ghosting over your lips.

“You’re welcome,” he says your name softly, twisting meaning into the syllables and letting it fill the air.

Your room is shrouded in darkness, vast and consuming. Perhaps it’s because you’ve spent so much time awake in the night, that you can recognize what’s beside you, or maybe it’s your vision, heavenly eyes now able to see in the night, almost as if it were day. You aren’t sure which option brings you more comfort- that you’ve spent so long in a place that you should call home, or that parts of your angelic nature have contorted into something else.

Sleep has yet to take you into its arms. You lay awake, unable to do much else, hoping that if you’re still long enough then maybe you rest. However, you do nothing all day but read and draw in a book Lucifer had given you. The television remains in an opened box, pressed against a wall. He had attempted to attach it to the wall, but grew frustrated when he could not figure out the wiring. When you offered that he call someone who could, he just placed everything back in the box grumbling under his breath.

His pride is the reason you still rely on books and his company for entertainment.

The scars on your back are no longer tender as they once were. They’re soft, and ticklish. You squirm against the cotton of the bed and feel a chill pass when you think of them for too long. Your arms coil themselves around you, fingertips tracing over the scarring lines. You wipe your hands on the comforter, filth still etched into you.

Your legs kick the bed, and you find yourself unable to sleep. If it were Heaven, you’d have Adam beside you. It would be hours until he finally rested, staying up until dawn peeked through the blinds in gold. He’d keep you company. Even if he was tired, he’d grumble and whine, but would continue to hold a conversation with you until he could no longer.

Truth be told, it was rare for you to struggle to fall asleep. You had no trouble resting your weary head, but when you did, you at least had Adam with you.

As much as other angels complained about not being given bigger tasks, you hardly minded them. You had no real power over anyone, no real responsibilities. The only real duty that you were given, was to calm Adam when he became crass- at least more so than usual. Heaven was blissful, the only worry being whether Adam would call you a crass nickname in public.

He hardly listened to anyone. He might have quieted down when a Seraphim or even Lute would give him a look, but when it came to you, he would mumble under his breath, still simmering, but at least he'd hold your hand. A chill runs through your body. In quiet moments, you can feel the weight of his wings over you, the heaviness, the softness of his feathers, how they would cover you like a blanket.

Moments with him were plenty, never did you ever have to miss him unless he was called out. The few times you both were separated, he was bitter- snapping and complaining to anyone who was unfortunate to speak to him. and you felt pride at being the one that he wanted, being the one who could calm him. All these weeks- conscious and unconscious- is the first you’ve ever spent without him- without knowing that you would see him again. You wonder what he’s doing. The thought hurts, a sharp pain in your chest that makes it difficult to breathe.

You wonder if he’s upset with Lute. A part of you wants him to be, to know that he did care for you, enough to be upset at another for hurting you. And the other part, hopes that he isn’t. You hope that he understood that it was a task given to her, that he doesn’t hold it against her. You hope that she doesn’t hold it against herself. You close your eyes, and your hands scratch against the comforter.

You need to think of something else.

There has to be something else that you can think of. Something that doesn’t have to do with him. Anything at all would work.

Mornings.

How the sunlight would cast gold in the room, peeking between the blinds and making his wings shimmer. The warmth of the light would only encourage you to dig deeper into bed, pulling yourself closer to him. Your wings would brush under his, and they were never as grand as his were. Where yours were iridescent, and fit to your body perfectly, his shined in gold, carved by Father and molded to be fitting of the first soul to ascend to Heaven.

You cry, and a sob escapes, whimpering past your lips. You need another distraction.

Your wings.

Think of how your wings were ripped from you. How Lute was the one to perform the severance and how Adam was adamant to watch. How he wanted to be there for you. You think of how you’ll never have your wings again. You’ll never fly again. There will always be a scar to serve as a reminder of what was taken. And despite not having them, you can still feel them. You feel their weight, and in the mornings, you can feel a ghost of an ache, as if you’d slept on them wrong.

You sob, crying like a child and you press yourself against a pillow, trying to dull the cries. You can’t recall ever being so teary-eyed, so sad and lonely. Even after your creation, you were greeted with love and open arms, and past the time when you were simply an angel, you at least had Adam and Lute to keep you company.

Crying seems like a foreign concept. You never cried much in Heaven. Not out of sadness, at least. You hadn’t realized how exhausting it was to cry. You heave, whimpering and clawing at the bed sheets. Your chest is tight, bones constricting themselves around everything delicate, gold burning inside of you. When you laid in bed with Adam and spoke of your fate, and even when your wings were removed, you hadn’t cried like this. You shed tears, and you begged for forgiveness under your breath, but you accepted it until you cast out. Some nights, you wake up and you think it’s all been some horrid dream, only to be reminded when you wake to a ceiling that is not yours.

Your door swings open, the back of it smacking against the wall.

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asks, his voice tense. His presence serves as a reminder of where you are, and where you can never return to. “Are you okay?” He’s inside your room, and the door closes with a smack the further he goes.

You are unable to answer him through your cries, mumbling incoherently. A hand places itself over your arm, and flutters away when you flinch. He sighs your name, and the side of your bed dips under his weight. “Do you want to be alone?”

You hiccup, and after a pause, you shake your head.

“Is it okay to touch you?

You nod, and turn over. Your hands grasp and pull at his clothes, you make a note that he hasn't changed out of his daytime attire, and that his eyes sag with exhaustion. Despite it all, you need him here. You want him here. His hand cups overs, and he lets his thumb arch over the back of your hand. Lucifer shifts under your touch, unable to be comfortable in your bed. Your nails scratch against the fabric of his clothes, fisting the shirt in your hand, and you need him to stay.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, another one of his hands cupping over the corner of your head, gently stroking you. “Just cry it out,” he whispers.

You cry beside him, the touch of his clothes barely enough to keep you satisfied. Your face is barely hidden between the pillow and the mattress. You weep, unable to catch a breath, unable to think of anything more than just missing home.

“I hate crying,” you mumble, hiccupping and hiding your face.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, tracing shapes over your forearm, “you get used to it.” Your body still shakes, whimpers and other pathetic sounds filling the room. “I- Um, I remember that angels were rather touchy- always together in flocks, and never really alone, so I-” he clears his throat, and you peek up at him through teary eyes. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but do you want a-” His face deepens in color, and he squeezes your arm, unable to manage the word out loud. “Or I can get you a pillow or something?”

Your hands let go of him, and the push against the mattress. “Lucifer?” You say softly, picking yourself up. He hums in response, his eyes wide and focused on you. “Can you hold me?” You gasp, your chest tight.

“Yes- Yeah,” he croaks. “Of course. Whatever you need- Oh!” He gasps, when you cling to him, your arms snaking around him, pulling at the fabric of his clothes. You hide yourself in the crook soft curve where his neck and shoulder meet, your dewy face kissing his exposed skin. “It’s-” you can feel his hands pat nervously at your back- “okay.” You pull him closer to you, desperate to not have him leave you. “You’re-” at the sound of another of your cries, his arms tightening around your shaking figure, hands pressed into the soft of your skin- “You’re okay. I got you, you’re safe,” he coos.

He’s warm, and he holds you close to him, his head knocking gently against yours. Your cries soften into whimpers, gasping breaths tickling over his skin. In a room where the glow of red peeks into the room, letting glass and skin flame under a dim hue, you find yourself reminded of home. You find comfort in someone holding you, you find yourself held together by sin, stitched and handled with care. Hands are gentle against your back, the pressure against the scars enough to make you crave for more, to have him touch more of you. You let your eyes close, and you tell yourself that you’ll ask him to leave, but you need a few minutes where you can feel safe, where you can feel wanted.

#hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin adam x you #hazbin hotel adam #i like that i tag this as adam #even though he hasn't appeared #but he will #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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cleaverqueer · 10 months

Text

DIY How-To; Aluminum Can Spikes

Preface; This will work with any kind of can as long as its metal. (soda, monster, ect) You can make them in colors depending on which side you trace your stencil on but im gonna teach you how to make them silver

And i cannot stress this enough,

BE CAREFUL WITH THE RAW CUT EDGES OF THE CANS, THEY ARE SHARP ENOUGH TO CUT BADLY

Material needed;

Empty clean aluminum can(s)

Sharp scissors (maybe a stitch ripper for attaching them but scissors work too)

A sharpie or permanent marker

Superglue if you want them perfect

An abundance of patience and caution

1 Gather your aluminum

First step is to turn those cans into flat sheets of metal. Start by making a small cut near the rounded edge of the top or bottom, about this distance

Then cut around the top to connect back where you started and take the ends off.

Next you cut a line straight down the side to interrupt the loop of aluminum.

What I do next is kinda just flatten it the best I can? Press it against a flat surface, make tiny bends against the curve, just to make it easier to work with, always being careful of the sharp edges

2 Make a stencil

So the general shape youre gonna wanna make it is like this

The big point will be the tip of your spike, and the little nubby ones will hold it on

imo it helps to have an extra can to experiment with what works best for what youre going for, but once you figure it out, have one flat cut out piece to trace for the rest, to make sure they all come out the same!

3 Trace a bunch and cut them out!

Sounds easier than it is. if you work with it, you can get more spikes sometimes by drawing them close together, but then theyre harder to cut out. Again, be careful of edges. If you want silver, trace on the printed on sign so you dont get sharpie on your spike (or dont, mistakes are punk)

4 Roll them up

This takes a little practice, but what you wanna do is roll up the wider end of the triangle, one edge over the other, into a pyramid, forming a spike with the point of the big triangle at the end. (this ones harder to draw)

Sometimes theyll stay curled tight on their own, sometimes they need a little help (superglue) i havent figured out how to make em curl perfect every time yet. You can also fill them with hot glue to make them sturdier ( BEING CAREFUL OF THE SPIKES WHEN THEY HEAT UP FROM THE GLUE) But the good news is your spikes are done!

4 Affixing them to your shit

Once you figure out where you want them, hold the bottom triangles on the first spike up to the spot it goes like you mean to put it in, mark where they touch the fabric, and then take your scissors or stitch ripper and cut four little tears that DO NOT connect at those points.

It should look like this, with the center dot representing where the spike point is centered!

You should also give each spike enough room that the tears dont run into each other. I usually do them one at a time but i dont think it matters.

After the tears are cut, you carefully insert the bottom triangles into the rips

flip it over, and fold the triangles in over themselves like a staple

Repeat until youve added on all your spikes and your piece looks sick as fuck

5 Bonus; patching over the studs

So when you do this, like a staple, theres the little pointy bits sticking in, and if its a wearble item, it'll prick your skin. If youre autistic like me thats a big drawback, but you can remedy this by sewing a patch of a thicker material (i use denim) over the place where these spikes are holding on.

#diy punk #diy how to #diy can spikes #diy #punk

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wasyago · 6 months

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unsure if you’ve been asked this before but what is your character designing process?

i have already answered in this post (you can go read it if you want), though it's more jrwi based, so i feel like i can answer again! i doubt I'll end up saying something new but hwhatever who cares dhhdhd

obviously this isn't math, so there's no specific scheme i follow every time, and each design is different and it all varies heavily.

in general, when i start working on a design i already have *some* sort of idea in mind. normally not for the entirety of it, but some bits and pieces here and there that help me characterize the design in my head! i try to get those on the canvas first. they're like key points, and i most likely wont change them.

(and if i don't have an idea, i don't start drawing. and instead scroll through my gallery or pinterest in search of inspiration)

let's take my Gem's recent design as an example! i knew i wanted her to be a squirrel, and i already had squirrel scar and cub designs to base it off. so the key points were big pointy ears, curvy tail, claws. i also knew i wanted her clothing to look regal and floral, and reflect her main base. this is an idea that i haven't fully visualized, but i kept it in mind and knew in which direction i had to move.

after that comes the point where i start making stuff up 👍👍 i enjoy thinking my designs through and making them make sense in my head and be practical. so the process consists of me asking myself questions and then answering them in a design. with occasional "oh wouldn't that be cool" thrown into it.

continuing with gem. she needed to have her clothes be suited for a tail, so her underskirt splits in three parts to make it easier. i still wanted the design to be recognizable as gem and have it resemble her skin; so i kept the white sleeves, the green skirt, the corset. i wanted to make her and scar's designs match, so i changed the corset to green with this long piece of cloth but decided to change the patterns on it. because the brown from the corset was gone, i removed it from her shoes as well and made them black instead, so brown wasn't part of the color pallett anymore. i will introduce pink into the design later, so getting rid of one of the colors wasn't that big of a deal. plus, brown makes her look more down to earth, whereas i want her to look elegant and rich, so its a win/win. i wanted to keep her antlers, but obviously she's not a deer anymore, so i turned them into a crown and made it black to match the shoes. etc etc. i can ramble for three more hours about this hdgshsh.

well, that's how the well thought designs work.

sometimes it's just "im gonna draw all the things i think are fun and cute until i can't think of any" and there's no rhyme or reason to it. that's why things like "doc as a unicorn", one-off series designs, random concepts, aus exist!

sometimes its a "i have no idea what to do with it, so im gonna merge all the layers together and just keep fiddling with it until i figure it out", and that's exactly what happens. if i feel stuck with a design, merging it together and working with both line and color helps a ton, because it helps me to see the design as a whole and i dont have to divide my process and think of which parts im gonna do in color and which in line! recent example is hypno's design. here it is when i didn't know how to make it interesting and the final version:

(funnily enough i still like the first concept, the fact that all the clothes is the same color is quite tasty. but i know that if i needed to draw this design in the future, i would struggle with keeping the clothing layers separated and shading and all that stuff.)

visually i don't think there's much difference between how i design things (?), but the process varies and in my head they're all on like, different tiers.

hopefully this was somewhat helpful! if not it at least let me ramble about my design process which is great hdhsjsh

#long post #yagotalk #how to yago

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bobohu4eva · 1 month

Text

Ecstasy

Part 5 - Psycho

Characters: Reader x Baekhyun Feat. Chanyeol

Genre: Soloist AU, smut, angst, fluff

WC: 5.4k

Tag List: @nana-banana @xzyxbbh @iluvybs @greasywall @endzii23 @scopoliax @silent-potato23-blog @baekyeonoreo

Warnings for this chapter: explicit smut, fuckin while on drugs (LSD), drug use and its consequences

A/N: In case everyone hasn't already forgotten about this series because I suck horrendously at updating! Sorry! This is also most definitely the most intense thing I have ever written! There's a reason it took me so goddamn long lol hopefully I can be a little more consistent from now on

Masterlist

Addiction (noun): Disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences

“When’s your next day off?”

He sent her the text a few days after their last night together, a whole day already planned for them in his mind. He just had to figure out how he’d make it happen.

She eagerly let him know, and he told her he’d be picking her up that morning, surprisingly early, but she didn’t question it, she was getting to see him, after all. And from what it sounded like, she’d get him all to herself, all day, at his lavish penthouse.

Baekhyun once again insisted on keeping his plans for them secret, so when that morning arrived and he picked her up, she had no idea what she was in store for. However the last time he’d refused to tell her his plans they ended up getting high, and she had a hunch that it might be something similar.

“Are you finally gonna tell me what we’re doing today?” She asked him once he’d started driving, this time showing up in a different car, a silver convertible Porsche.

‘Hmmm.. No, but I’ll show you once we get to my place. The last surprise was fun though, wasn't it?”

He took his eyes off the road for a second to look over at her, his taunting smile daring her to disagree with him, but knowing she wouldn’t dare.

“So more drugs?”

He grimaced, “sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Am I wrong though?”

“If I tell you that would ruin the surprise.”

She just laughed and rolled her eyes, deciding to wait until she had more details to really judge.

“You’ve been working all week right? Any more run-ins with Mr Kim?”

As soon as he said it, her eyes went to his arm. Now that he was wearing a t-shirt, she could clearly make out the mark from the cigarette, the burn still not completely healed, and even then, it looked like it might scar.

“I should be the one asking you that, you know.”

She saw him glance down at his arm too. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“No, I likely won’t see him again for a while, thank god.” She frowned, still disappointed that he was so reluctant to talk about it. “What about you though? Do you work with him a lot?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” He still looked uncomfortably serious, but he perked up in less than a second as he pulled into the garage of his building. “But that’s just showbiz baby.”

He was so nonchalant about it, and left no room for her to protest, so she simply allowed him to lead her up to his beautiful apartment once again.

She hadn’t given too much thought as to what drugs Baekhyun had planned for them to take that day, pretty much assuming that it would be mushrooms again, or maybe some weed or molly. But after digging around a bit in one of his kitchen drawers, he pulled out an envelope containing a small piece of colorful paper, with perforated lines criss-crossing it, dividing it into smaller pieces still. She’s never seen it in person before, but quickly recognized it as LSD.

Just like the time before, he saw the hesitance on her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Last time everything ended up fine, and we had a great time, didn’t we?”

“I know we did, but this is different isn’t it? I really don’t want it to be too much or something and start freaking out.”

He sighed, setting the envelope back down on the counter and coming to her, leaning in for a quick kiss. “It’s just the two of us here, no interruptions, no obligations, just you, and me. I won’t let anything bad happen. If you start to feel overwhelmed, just tell me and I’ll do whatever it is you need me to to help you calm back down. That day at Chanyeol's house was the most… at peace, I’ve felt in a long time. I’ve been thinking a lot about that day, and what we talked about, that’s why I want to try this with you.”

“You haven’t done this before either?”

“No, I have, but it’s been a while, I don’t remember much of it.”

“Why don’t you remember it?”

“It's a long story, but I don’t remember much from that time of my life in general.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d said the wrong thing, she looked uncomfortable again.

“Y/n, sweetheart.” He cooed, and her eyes met his, feeling his warm hands intertwining with her own. “You don’t have to do anything, and I don’t want to pressure you, this is just something I’ve had on my mind lately. I still want to get to know you better.”

“Is it not possible to do that without getting high?”

“Of course it is, but you know what I mean.”

She thought back to the day they'd had out at Chanyeol’s house, and she understood what he was saying. “Okay maybe.”

“So what do you say, hm?” His hands ran down her shoulders, then her arms, eyes never leaving hers. The slight tilt of his head and the way he looked at her with his best puppy eyes ruined any ability she might’ve had to reason with herself.

“Alright, if you’re sure it’s a good idea.”

He grinned, and finally he was kissing her, really kissing her, not like the little peck from earlier. His tongue slipped past her lips, and his hand held her face to his own. It didn’t take long for her to start feeling weak in the knees.

As he pulled away he turned to the counter, grabbing the envelope again. He tore off two of the little squares of paper, placing one on his own tongue, and the other on hers.

“What now?”

He shrugged, “It'll start to kick in in about an hour, have you eaten? I can order us something, or see what I have here.”

They ended up making breakfast together, and she was surprised by how sweet he was being to her, even more so than usual. It didn't just feel like the usual flirtation that went on with him. Despite not being much of a cook himself, he did his best to help out, and the way he rested his chin on her shoulder, singing softly in her ear as she stood in front of the stove, made her heart flutter. When she was done he thanked her, and told her time and time again how great the meal was.

By the time they were done eating, she realized she was starting to feel the effects of the drug. Colors were becoming more vibrant, and patterns would start to move if she looked at them for long enough. It wasn't entirely dissimilar from the mushrooms, but it was definitely still different, especially the way her body felt.

Baekhyun must've noticed the way she was staring off at things, or just the unusually large size of her pupils, since he asked, “how are you feeling?”

“I'm not sure.. kind of weird.”

“Come here.”

He led her to the big cozy looking couch in his living room, facing the windows overlooking the river. He sat down, and she followed suit, resting between his spread legs, leaning her head back on his chest. Some music began to play, and even though they were just sitting there, she felt like her mind was going into overdrive.

If the mushrooms made her feel heavy, more in touch with nature, LSD was the opposite. She was buzzing, electric, almost. It wasn't unpleasant, but she didn't exactly enjoy it either.

“Are you okay? Your heart is racing.”

She wouldn't have even realized it if he hadn't brought it up, but he was right.

“I.. don't know.”

“Y/n, baby.”

She turned around, until she was basically laying on top of him on the couch, facing him.

His pupils somehow grew even larger when her eyes met his, and for a good minute, neither of them could look away. The rest of his face looked just as inviting. His skin smooth and sunkissed, pretty features in perfect harmony. And then there were his lips. Soft, pink, asking to be kissed. Eventually she gave into the temptation, and their lips collided.

That was a feeling she had not been prepared for, even in the slightest.

It was like the excitement of kissing him for the very first time, that night at the club, had come rushing back tenfold.

It was he who eventually pulled away, still looking at her with a bit of concern. “You're shaking.”

He took one of her hands that had been resting on his chest into his own, further confirming his previous words.

“Did that not feel crazy for you too?”

The way she looked at him, eyes wide, panting and shaking at the intensity of it, made his chest swell with pride. Any concern he showed quickly melted away as he grinned back at her. “Kiss me again.”

He didn't have to ask twice. She pressed her lips to his without hesitation, moaning into the feeling as waves of euphoria washed over her.

Baekhyun, too, could feel how much more intense it was, kissing her and touching her with the added excitement the drug offered. The MDMA as well as the mushrooms had given a similar effect, but not nearly to the same degree.

While the mushrooms had made him sentimental, wanting to hold her, feel the way her chest rose and fell in sync with his own, the LSD made him ravenous. Sex, while high on mushrooms, didn't even seem possible. The overall heaviness of the body high simply didn't feel sexy, but now he could think of nothing else.

But Baekhyun knew that they had all day, and was in no rush. For what could've been anything from several minutes to a few hours, the drug blurring time into irrelevance, they simply laid there, lips pressing together again and again, until he pushed his tongue past her lips, smiling into it when she once again moaned at the newfound depth of the kiss. With both hands on her waist he felt the way she continued to shake, overwhelmed by the new sensations.

Not wanting to overwhelm her too much, and still enjoying the onset of the drug, Baekhyun eventually pulled away, standing up from the couch, with her following.

He leaned in, forehead resting against hers with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Wanna dance?”

She smiled back at him and nodded, and soon the room was full of music, something sexy that would make them want to move.

With one hand in his own he twirled her around, placing himself behind her, hands on her hips as they both swayed to the beat. The heat of his chest pressed to her back and his words in her ear as he sang along further heightened how intoxicated she already was. The room around her appeared to melt and shift in a colorful whirlwind, though she didn’t mind it, still more focused on the man behind her than anything else. With the music pulsating through her, his body pressed to hers, she gave into it, even tearing up a little as she kept moving her body. This was the definition of euphoria, she thought. It simply couldn’t get any better than this, the rush of it all so overwhelming that it moved her to tears.

When she spun around in his arms, attaching her lips to his own, she saw fireworks behind her eyelids, colorful bursts filling her vision even as her eyes were closed. Every touch of his hands brought waves of delight that surged through her without even an ounce of reluctance. Baekhyun noticed her tears, but he could feel it too, not questioning even for a second if they came from anything but pure happiness.

She let out a yelp when he momentarily broke away before scooping her up in his arms, and carrying her into the bedroom.

Baekhyun, too, felt the burning need for more, seeming almost frantic in the way he laid her down, wasting not a single second before slotting himself between her legs.

He was on fire, his tongue in her mouth, dancing with her own as he tugged on her clothes with a kind of impatience she’d never seen before. He thought he would be able to stay patient, savor the feeling and enjoy her with some restraint, but he now saw how wrong he’d been. With the high at it’s full intensity, he was insatiable, he wanted every piece of her, the craving for more so intense even he began to lose it, hands shaking as he got the clothes off her body. First her shirt, then her pants, and eventually her bra, all thrown haphazardly across the room, no care for anything but the need for more skin.

She arched into him, pushing her hands past his shirt, her touch against his bare abdomen bringing a gasp from him. After one more heated kiss he sat up, pulling the fabric over his head and fussing with his belt, finally getting that off as well. When he leaned back in, he didn’t kiss her, instead, he found himself taking her face in his hand, staring.

“So beautiful… You make me feel so fucking crazy, you have no idea.”

His eyes kept scanning her face, taking her in all he could, the way his words made her lip quiver, the blush on her cheeks, it was all perfection, the high adding an aura of effervescence. To him, she was glimmering, sparkling.

“You’ve been making me crazy ever since I met you.” She answered, knowing she was just as insane for him.

His lips pressed themselves to hers, this time though, something felt different to him. He felt himself almost start to tear up, though he fought it off, not wanting her to see the way it all overwhelmed him, too. The emotions roared to a new peak, making him sentimental, kissing her deeper, in love with the way her hands on his back pressed him further into her, never wanting her warmth to leave him, not then, not ever, as far as he was concerned.

“You’re mine, baby, mine.”

The words were pressed into the side of her neck between kisses, and when her voice failed her, all she could do was nod.

“I want to hear you say it.”

She tried to get it out, she really did, but when his fingers briefly met the waistband of her underwear the words got caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

He moved slowly, hungry lips making their way down her neck, spending some time nipping at the sensitive area near her collarbone, before finally giving attention to her bare chest. His hands too squeezed and pinched at the sensitive skin where his lips couldn’t reach, and the sounds she made were music to his ears, though he still wanted to hear those words more than anything else.

“Fuck, say it, please.”

“I’m yours.”

By that point the onslaught of emotion had completely overpowered her, simply giving into the way he touched her, too far gone to even think, making it near impossible to form words. It was all like a dream, his touch combined with the high whisking her away to another plane of existence, one where she could do little more than lay back, shaking, gasping, taking in the waves of pleasure that came her way. The weight of him between her thighs and his mouth and fingers as they teased her nipples felt like heaven and hell all at once, both divine and almost frighteningly tempting. He could see it in the way she looked up at him, eyes glazed over, nothing behind them but desire, a deep yearning for more, even if she couldn’t express it, the intensity rendering her speechless.

In the back of her mind she realized the staggering difference between how he acted then compared to every other time they'd been in bed together. She felt the urgency in the way he touched her, hands that were usually so steady, so confident, now shaking, along with his unsteady breaths. Never before had he voiced such possessiveness either, though it didn't feel out of place in the slightest. She knew she belonged to him, no other man would ever be able to compare. He was so exhilarating, she felt that the piece of paper she'd had was nothing, the real drug was him.

She was already out of her mind, and his hand had yet to venture between her legs. With his mouth still on her chest, kissing and nibbling and sucking at the soft curves, he slowly began to venture south, each kiss on her stomach adding more fuel to the fire within her. When his fingers finally hooked themselves into the waistband, slowly pulling the last piece of clothing off her body, a loud moan fell from her lips. She lay there underneath him, panting, mind in a whirlwind, completely exposed, waiting for more.

Baekhyun was eager to deliver. His mouth went straight in, licking up the wetness he’d coaxed from her thus far, the feeling of his tongue incessantly flicking her clit making her hips push against his face, pleading with him for more. The taste made him groan, vibrations coursing through her, his lips and tongue bringing her close to release quicker than she knew possible. From the very first touch she’s already lost control, twitching and nearly screaming at the strength of her own desire. It was all too much, the tension leaving her helpless to his touch, fingers in his hair as she came on his tongue in mere minutes.

The orgasm washed over her like a rushing waterfall, knocking any rational thought from her mind as she shook and gasped. It was a new experience completely, the added rush of her high bending her mind into an unfamiliar torrent of pleasure. Finally prying her eyes open to look down at him between her legs, the smirk present on his wet lips was pure eroticism, his handsome face a work of art. The onslaught of her high had been so paralyzing she hadn’t even noticed the substantial volume of her moans, not until Baekhyun commented,

“My baby can’t help being loud for me, hm?”

A whine escaped her, anticipation building even further as Baekhyun stripped off the last of his clothes. He reclaimed his place between her thighs, looking down at her flushed face, basking in the warmth of the moment as they both stared, entranced. The beads of sweat on his face appeared more like precious pearls, lips a soft pink pillow, eyes of deep chocolate brown, baiting her to get lost. Even with the way the drug made everything shift and twist about, he stayed still, shining, glowing, illuminating her entire world.

He leaned in, kissing her with an unexpected tenderness, soft lips moving with hers gently, almost carefully. When he pulled back his forehead rested against her own, eyes fixed on hers.

“Do you want more?”

She nodded without any hesitation, and the smile on his handsome face was enough for more butterflies to erupt within her. By that point she was dripping, throbbing, wanting nothing more than to finally feel him inside.

“Can you say it for me?”

“Please, Baekhyun. I want - I need- more. Fuck, please.”

Her eyes were filled with greed and impatience as she watched him grab the packet from the nightstand and roll a condom onto himself, wondering how he was still able to keep it together enough to even consider such a thing. The room continued to dance and shift about in a dream like kaleidoscope as he moved himself over her again, both an anchor and a source of even greater insanity to her.

When she felt him finally push inside, it was like she was experiencing it for the very first time. Now chest to chest, fully flush, surrounded by him completely, she felt herself break. The tears were back, and with every push of his hips into her, sparks filled her distorted vision. She tried to look up at him, but her eyes felt heavy, unable to concentrate on anything but the feeling of him above her, and inside her.

Baekhyun was no better off. The drug amplified everything to such a degree that he too found himself letting go of any restraint, letting the high take him wherever it so pleased. His moans, and the ever increasing cadence of his thrusts told her just how affected he was, too. She began to move with him, rolling her body into his more or less involuntarily, just wanting to feel more of him, and he did all he could to deliver.

When his eyes finally met hers again, his thumb moved to wipe away the tears, though they only communicated to him her immense and paralyzing delight. The way she looked up at him encouraged him further, his hips hitting her more deeply, savoring the feeling every time he entered her, again and again.

The drug had overpowered her senses so entirely, that the lines, the boundary between herself and him began to fade into obscurity, she was a part of him, and he, a part of her. She sensed his pleasure, and felt it in her own body, the same way she knew he felt her, too. They melted together, the high and the closeness of being so intimately connected merging them into one.

Every time he filled her, she felt him brush against that delicious spot deep inside that made her tremble. He was perfection, beyond perfection, even. Having him there with her, enjoying her as she enjoyed him, whisked them away to a different form of reality. Their shared altered consciousness made it all so much heavier, more real than any sexual experience they could have while sober. This was how it was always supposed to be, they were both sure of it.

His hand clutching her face brought her eyes back to his, whimpering at his intense gaze.

“Who do you belong to, baby?”

“You.” She replied weakly, barely able to get the word out.

“Say it again.”

“You- Baekhyun, oh my god.”

Her words stirred up a whirlwind inside him, his lips latching themselves onto the spot on her neck that made her weakest. The pace of his thrusts picked up even more, and she felt her whole body start to tingle, starting from the tips of her toes moving up her body in waves, until she was consumed by it, and again, she fell.

This orgasm was somehow even better than the last, leaving her shaking, gasping, seemingly tearing apart every atom in her body, and then putting her back together again. Her vision went white, arching, twitching, moaning and completely out of her damn mind as he kept fucking her through it, until he too reached his peak.

When it happened for him, he kissed her with such force, such passion, that she couldn’t breathe, though she didn’t feel she needed to anyway. His affection felt more crucial than oxygen, happily accepting his lips as she floated slowly back to her altered state of reality.

They both lay in the aftermath of the near religious experience they just shared, sweating, panting, still pressed to each other as they recovered from the profoundly overpowering encounter that the drug turned their passion into.

Even after several minutes had passed, she was still dizzy, still unable to come to terms with how incredible Baekhyun had just made her feel.

“I love you.” She whispered, thoughtless, the otherworldly memory of it all and his possessive words drifting through her mind. For a while, he didn’t respond, and she didn’t expect him to. It didn’t feel like some sort of big confession, just what the drug and the height of the moment naturally pulled from her lips.

“I..” he paused, becoming tense, eyes digging into her own. “What?”

The harsh change in his tone snapped her back to reality, and she realized her mistake.

“No- shit, I didn’t mean that-”

“What the fuck did you just say?” He said, sitting up, eyes squeezed shut with a pained expression now on his face.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out in the moment.” She looked at him, worry turning to panic as the look on his face slowly turned into one of anger.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” He said again, this time raising his voice, eyes still shut, refusing to look at her.

She started to sit up, tears welling in her eyes, though this time they didn’t come from a good place at all.

“But, you said you wouldn’t let anything bad happen, I’m sorry, I just- I-”

When he finally did meet her eyes, they were hard and mean, not softening at all even at the sight of her tears.

“You can’t be here anymore. Get your shit and get the fuck out.”

“Baekhyun, please, I can't just leave, I'm sorry, really. Please.” She begged, but he wasn't having any of it.

“I said get the fuck out of my apartment. Right fucking now.”

She'd never seen that look on his face before, her shock and upset morphing into fear.

With that she got up, stumbling as she gathered her clothes, leaving his room in a disoriented haze as she got herself dressed, crying harder and harder as the seconds ticked by. The bright colors had turned dark and dull and the patterns that before swirled around so beautifully turned sharp, frightening in their unpredictability. She was delirious as she passed the threshold to his apartment, the hallway seeming to close in on her as she struggled toward the elevator. Luckily nobody saw her as she left the building, eventually collapsing onto a nearby bench under the midday sun, surrounded by the bustling city.

As her eyes squeezed shut she only saw his face, twisted in anger as he told her to leave. It haunted her, though she didn’t want to face the city either, the cacophony of cars and other people entirely too much to handle. She had to get home, and with no other real option, she pulled out her phone, struggling with it for a minute before finally managing to call her best friend.

“Suhyun?”

“Hi! I thought you were gonna be with Baekhyun all day, is everything all right?”

“No…” she said, voice shaking, and even from over the phone Suhyun could tell that something was very wrong.

“Are you okay? Where are you? What happened?”

“I- I don't know, I need you to come get me.”

“Where are you?”

“I don't know, I'm sitting in front of his building, he kicked me out.”

“He did what? You sound weird, what's going on?”

“He gave me drugs, I don't know what to do, I can barely use my phone, I can't take the subway, you have to come get me.”

Suhyun had known her friend long enough to know that something awful had happened, and needed to get there as soon as possible.

“Okay, just stay where you are, I can check your location and come to you, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

She nodded, and her friend on the phone grew even more worried.

“Y/n?”

“Yes! I'm on a bench. I won't move. Please hurry.” Her voice unsteady with the onslaught of tears still pouring out of her.

To make sure her friend was safe, Suhyun stayed on the phone with her until she pulled up, pulling her into the car before making her way towards her friend's apartment.

She was crying quietly to herself in the passenger seat, trying to focus on what was going on outside the window, but still ending up squeezing her eyes shut again and again, seeing his face glaring back at her, making her heart sting every time.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Finally she looked over at Suhyun, and she saw in her eyes that she wasn't in her normal state of mind, growing more and more worried by the minute.

She just shook her head, too overwhelmed to get a word out as the sobs ran through her.

The day had been so perfect, and because of a few little words he'd seemingly snapped, becoming a completely different person. The harshness with which he'd told her to get out kept replaying, she couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried. His face and his words had etched themselves into her mind, the drug making it all so much more horrible.

They eventually reached her apartment, and Suhyun tucked her into bed, holding her, asking once again, “what happened?”

“He wanted to do LSD together,” she eventually choked out “and we- we had sex, and I felt so insane after, I said I love you to him, just because of how crazy it all felt, and he lost it, and yelled at me that I had to get out.”

“He kicked you out of his apartment knowing you were on drugs?”

She nodded.

“Are you still really high? How bad is it? ”

“I could barely work my phone to call you. All I can see when I close my eyes is his face when he yelled at me to get out but when they're open everything is moving and looks like it's about to attack me. It's awful, I just want this to stop already.”

Suhyun stroked her hair as she cried, comforting her, but was growing more and more angry as well. She decided it would be best to take her phone for a while, worried Baekhyun would try to contact her and make things even worse. She took it from where her friend had discarded it on the bed, sliding it into her pocket.

She stayed like that for hours, just keeping her friend company, talking to her, doing her best to reassure her, seeing the way pain and fear consumed her. When she felt the phone start to vibrate she made an excuse to leave the room, and sure enough, it was him.

“Y/n, I'm so-”

“This is her friend. She can't talk to you right now.”

“I need to talk to her, give her her phone back.” She could hear the desperation in his voice, but she didn't care.

“No. She's fucking wrecked because of you. You threw her out onto the street while she was high out of her goddamn mind. She could've gotten arrested for Christ's sake, all because of your selfish bullshit. If you care about her even in the slightest, and genuinely want what's best for her, you're going to leave her alone. For good. She doesn't need you to fuck up her life even more.”

“Please-”

“Goodbye.”

Suhyun ended the call, cutting him off. When he called again and again, she put the phone on mute, deleting every trace of his trying to contact her. The last thing her friend needed was more of him.

At home in his apartment, Baekhyun cursed himself, nearly throwing the phone into a wall. Unbeknownst to both of the girls, he wasn’t much better off.

Those three words had set something off inside him. His high took an awful turn as he watched her leave the apartment, overcome with anger, but mostly, fear. When he called and couldn’t get through to her, it got even worse. Suhyun’s warning to stay away frustrated him beyond belief, but as much as he wanted to talk to her, he had no clue what he would even say, he couldn’t even understand his own feelings.

The guilt and confusion turned the rest of his day into a living nightmare, hoping that he’d somehow still be able to win her back. However as the hours passed, he did come to a realization.

It wasn’t her words that had caused him to suddenly become so agitated, it was the fact that he’d almost said it back.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun #baekhyun angst #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fic #exo angst #exo #kpop smut

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andieperrie18 · 2 months

Text

happiness in exile

series: that vacation you're looking for

pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

warnings: None

a/n: I'm just gonna write... thats all

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Stockholm wasn't the first place that would pop into Chris's head when looking for an ex-government agent who recently quit due to personal reasons, one that he was very well aware of. He would have assumed that Y/n would rather be out somewhere in a rural area, in a cottage and a garden. Rehabilitating her heart and mind from the stressful job of fighting off bioweapons all while dealing with her breaking her engagement with Leon. As much as the male wanted to leave the woman alone, she was the only one capable of attaining information on his current target right now.

"Claire, are you sure you're giving me the correct address?"

Chris stared back and forth between the piece of paper in his hand and the residence before him, or a bakery instead. The walls are colored a dirty mustard yellow with a wide window with various pastries and a singular door beside it. Above it was an intricate sign, 'Gütiokipänjä Bakery' it read.

"Yes, it's a bakery and if you're standing in front of one, then you've found it," she replied through the other line. The buff male stared at the establishment. There was a pathway beside the bakery that led to a yard. He dared not to enter the said establishment but did take a look through the glass window display.

No Y/n, just a female cashier with a rather unusually large red bow holding her hair in a neat ponytail, she was taking a few customers' orders and a baker with rather red hair and big round glasses putting freshly baked pastries through designated baskets and racks on display. Having had enough of just eye scavenging for the woman he walked towards the door. The male slowly treads to the bakery's door to inquire until he is called.

"Chris?" he spun to see who called him, it was a woman. It took him two squints to finally acknowledge who it was.

"Y/n," she just smiled radiantly at him.

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Chris was jealous, well a tad bit envious. Envious of Y/n current state in comparison to his. Despite wearing a typical tourist outfit to blend in the crowd, his tired frown had forever etched itself on his face through years of trying to fight against monsters and people who created them for their benefits that had cost him countless lives of his men and women.

And then there's Y/n, who has been a close acquaintance of his after working together in various missions where the BSAA and the US Government needed to work together. And like him, this battle had taken its toll on her too, that was before she left for a rather long vacation.

He wasn't clueless of the sudden end of her and Leon's relationship, aware of the unusual relationship the male has with a female mercenary.

"Soo… its been a while,"

Y/n took her seat across from him at a small dinner table in a relatively spacious room he didn't know the bakery had, it was an apartment space connected to the bakery. It was a bit dim but the slightly large window and the fresh morning sun lit her room without effort.

"It has. I guess you're doing quite well," he replied as he took a small sip of the hot beverage in front of him.

Y/n exhaled as she rested back against the chair a soft smile grew on her lips, and he stared. The usual bags under her eyes were gone, her skin no longer sickly pale, a bit more meaty frame through her simple button-down dress, and her hair is neatly kept and put together, showing her rather radiant features.

“So… You bake?” he asked, as he smiled at how bright she looked.

Y/n chatted to him a bit more about small and simple things. Like how she learned to bake and so, sometimes pulling his sister's name through the conversation. A carefree conversation, devoid of any kind of topics involving zombies and terrorism. Rather refreshing in Chris's ears, whatever Y/n placed in his coffee to have him get laid back at that moment was working. The fresh sea breeze of the Swedish country sweetly crawled over his nape that left him to surrender his back fully on the sturdy wooden chair, the sent of the freshly baked pastries entering through the window. He could've swore that he might have dozed off for a few minutes and Y/n knows it.

"What brings you here anyway?"

Chris heaved a breath as the question he was waiting for came, his lips shut close as he leaned forward, as his usual military demeanor returned.

"We need your help," he muttered with a little struggle, his gaze meeting hers, waiting for her expression to contort.

"We're looking for a weapon dealer who's currently involved with another virus. We don't know its effect, but we think it's related to bioweapons too," he trailed, torn by the slow fading of her warm expression. It was as if he was pulling her back to the reality of where her real occupation lies.

"I'm sorry if I had to barge in through your vacation like this, and I know this isn't a typical one, a lot of things happened to you and I would leave you alone if I could but, I really need your help,"

Chris wasn't necessarily begging, and Y/n wasn't exactly a simple government agent. She was on the job two years before Leon was recruited. And she has a higher status than her ex-fiance, even now. That's why she was able to basically blackmail the higher-ups to give her a break. She's one of the best.

Y/n leaned back and crossed her arms, lips puckered to the left with squinting eyes. Chris felt blue, he didn't really want to force her back to duty but considering her resignation from DSO, he would be lying if it didn't cross his mind to recruit her. Surprisingly, his sister invited Y/n as field advisor for Terrasave a few months ago. So there goes his recruitment.

"I know it's sudd-" he starts, "When do you leave?" she pops on.

Taken aback by her quick reply but he never got to answer back as she left the chair and went to a closet beside her bed. She pulled out a duffel bag and placed it on the bed.

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there'll be happiness after you

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy vendetta #that vacation youre looking for #chris redfield #claire redfield #folklore and evermore inspired #ghibli movie inspired #kiki's delivery service

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aphrodisiaxcunt · 2 months

Note

Saw you need requests so what's up bbg

What about John Price with a younger gf (like 26, he's canonically near 40) who's worried that he's gonna "realize" he's "better off" with a woman his age? She's by no means immature or childish but sometimes worries there's too much of an age disconnect. Price obviously doesn't give a fuck and reassures her and it's just really sweet and lowkey Hozier coded? 👀

Like the song Be by Hozier (idk but it reminds me of him)

Omg thank you for your request🫶🏻Literally perfect I love Price so much it'll be nice to write something new, hopefully you'll enjoy my work ♡♡ Even though its not really my favourite out of all the things I've written ♡♡ sorry I'm using colored lines, it's just easier for my dumb bunny brain to grasp with colors

☆~♡—Connecting Pieces—♡~☆

Content: Request!Fluff, comfort, Cap Price x gf!reader, younger!woman x older!man, cutesy, domestic

Prices lines are green, Reader lines are orange

Reading time: 4~minutes

You and Price had been 'an item' for roughly over a year now, and it's been nothing short of perfect in your eyes. You've always felt a little more attraction to older men, nothing weird. They're simply just gentlemen compared to the boys your age. But lately, you can't help but kind of worry, although you've always liked older men, Price is your first older partner.

Every day for the past month or two, you've started noticing you and Price don't have that much in common, he's way more experienced in life and everything new to you is old news to him. Stressing over your thoughts as you're standing over your dining room table and attempting doing a puzzle, you don't notice Price until his arms wrap around your waist. Turning your head to look at him with a questioning hum from your throat, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Any closer to finishing this yet?" His remarks at your previous attempts of finishing a puzzle make you laugh a bit, turning your head back to the task at hand.

"Nno..not really.. I can't focus." You tilt your head a little to the side, looking for a specific piece from the pile of colourful shapes. Price slides his hand underneath your smaller hand, wrapping his digits with yours as he brings your hand up to his lips to kiss it, the beard and moustache he's so proud of tickling your knuckles.

"What's taking your attention, my love?" His soothing voice is like velvet in your ears, and you gnaw at the inside of your cheek just slightly, thinking if now is really a great time to start mentioning your insecurities.

"It's stupid, really don't worry -" he cuts you off "No no honey, it's clearly bothering you, so it must be important, even a bit, hm?" His words make you sigh. You take a seat, still fiddling with a puzzle piece between your fingers. He lets go of your hand, and instinctively, you pull it back to yourself and use it to assist your other hand at studying the puzzle piece. He takes a seat beside you and scoots the chair closer to yours. "I've just been thinking-" you hold a quick pause, "Of our age gap. Sometimes I feel like you'd be better off with a woman..that's actually your age." Your voice goes quieter the longer you talk. "And maybe some day you'll realize that and leave me.." Looking down, you've stopped moving the puzzle piece around and now just look at the part of a flower on it.

He seems a little dumbfounded, mouth opening and closing in his search for words, and after a couple of useless seconds of searching, he lets out a chuckle. Lifting your head, you see him smiling down at you, his smile lines creased up. "Oh, I see, my dear.. I can assure you that's not the case here. Never has been." Now it's your time to look dumbfounded as you mutter out excuses.

His rough hands move to cradle your head as his thumb tips find their places on your cheekbones, caressing them down in a soothing motion, he hushes you. His eyes locking onto yours, his face is relaxed and a little entertained. "What would make you think of such things?" You completely melt against his hands, leaning your face into his touch, looking for your words. "Sometimes I just feel like we don't have a lot of stuff in common..and when something is new and exciting for me- I'm scared it's boring and repetetive for you.." You close your eyes and tilt your head down, letting your hair droop over your face. Price smiles at you, brushing your hair back behind your ear and lifting your chin. "Oh I promise you, seeing you get excited over something is not boring.." Your eyes flutter open and they meet with his. Before you can start questioning him, he slides his thumb from your cheek onto your lips. You look at him as you place a soft kiss to the tip of his thumb, giving him a small smile.

"I've never felt like our relationship is complicated in that matter, we still love each other..And I don't think having things in common is necessary to that.." You start to blush at his comforting words. This is something you're really starting to wish you would have opened up earlier for conversation. But the important thing is that now he's aware and you're feeling reassured.

"Are we on the same page now dear?" His voice is quiet when he asks, giving him a nod and a "Yeah~..." as an answer. He pulls you in gently by your face, lips pressing into yours. You kiss him back, the scent of tobacco in his breath and the bitter taste on his lips is something you've started to like. You wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his soft hair. The seconds go by fast, too fast as he stops the kiss. Eyes opening to meet yours, he gives you an other reassuring smile, making you blush and avert your gaze back to the puzzle.

"The piece goes here darling.." he points to a spot in the low left corner of the puzzle and you give him a sarcastic 'I knew it' as you place the piece to its respected place.

☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆

YEAH! The puzzle was a metaphor of relationship issues and talking your problems through, so what? I'm kidding, that was honestly really amazing to write and I hope I pulled through on your request <3 I wasn't sure if I should call him Price or John so I hope that Price is fine

Go follow my ig @aphrodisiax_tumblr for fic release updates!!

#captain john price #john price #cod x reader #cod #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #female writers #captain price #cod fluff #fluff #captain price fluff #captain price x reader #captain price x you

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missmaywemeetagain · 3 months

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Got a Lotta Lovin' to Do (A Scarf Universe Story) ❤️‍🔥

Okay, sooooo...this just came to me in a strange fit of inspiration this week. It's naughty but also a little sweet in concept. It may not be for everyone, so let's say it's currently canon adjacent for the Pink Scarf Universe...

This takes place a few months post A Pink Scarf Thanksgiving, in February of 1978. Yes, I know, we make it to '78 and there is something both heart wrenching but also wonderful in that, isn't there?

I wanted something that felt real but also a bit indulgent, and also wanted to bring our spitfire Sandy back into play. In fact, I made it from Sandy's perspective, which was a bit challenging considering the use of second person, but hopefully it makes sense!!

Premise is that Reader is in a fix, desperate to coax a very nervous Elvis back into her bed, and enlists her best friend Sandy to help in an unorthodox way.

Anyway, I'm a bit nervous about this one 😬 and am just sort of testing the waters as a preview, so let me know if you like it and want me to continue it! (Also, the turnaround was fast, so please excuse the semi-rough edit/revision! 🙏🏼)

xoxoxox, Madi 💗

(listen, I know this pic is much earlier than '78, but the vibe is right and the hint of silver at his roots seems applicable and has me in a chokehold, so bear with me here...)

TW: sexy smutty stuff, heading towards a threesome (mff/fmf), mention of medical issues/trauma, sassy Sandy, silver fox Elvis!!🦊

Got a Lotta Lovin’ to Do

February 1978

“Darlin’, you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?” he asks you. Elvis’ eyebrow is halfway to his hairline and he sounds more incredulous than hopeful, but Sandy can see the twinkle in his eyes when they slide over to her. It’s more than a cursory glance, one filled with questions and a latent heat. She wrestles with the urge to fidget under his gaze, clenching and unclenching her fists instead of looking away from his scrutiny.

She’s certainly never been one to back down from a fight, not even with the enigma that is Elvis Presley.

Especially not with him, she thinks.

But Elvis has never looked at her like this before and even knowing him as long as she has, she isn’t unaffected. Despite everything he’s been through this past year, he still has the ability to level a woman with a look, she’ll give him that.

His eyes slide back over to you, and Sandy can breathe again. It’s gonna be a long night, she thinks, if a mere glance has her feeling so exposed.

You nod, biting your lip, and she knows how nervous you are, how desperate you are for this to work. She grabs your hand in solidarity and you squeeze it in return.

If it were anyone but you, she wouldn’t have agreed to this. It is much too messy, but extraordinary people and circumstances call for extraordinary measures, and being in Elvis’ world has always meant living in shades of gray.

Sandy knows she’s the only one you’ll trust with this. For as much shit as she gives Elvis, she loves and cares about you both deeply, more than she might voice in mixed company. And you know she understands why this is so important.

Now the two of you just need to convince Elvis of it, too. Though by the increasing level of tension in the room and the way he adjusts himself in his seat, Sandy doesn’t think it’ll take much persuading.

He cuts quite the figure, sitting there in the plush, golden, velvet chair with his bejeweled fingers tapping a slow and steady rhythm out on the arms. After what happened last summer, he’d finally let his hair grow out to its natural color, the salt-and-pepper combined with glinting silvery streaks. It’s incredibly striking, giving him an even more handsome and regal air than before, if that’s possible. With his new post-recovery regime, he is looking good and, according to you, feeling healthier than he had in years. The result is attractive, to say the least.

But while that side of things improved, the sexual piece apparently has not.

Sandy and you perch on the edge of the bed, sitting so close you are pressed against each other, facing him, waiting for his verdict. Elvis takes in the two of you closely before sliding his eyes back over to her.

“And you, Sandra? You agreed to this?” His voice is laden with curiosity and surprise. She doesn’t blame him.

“Yes, with conditions,” she says, willing her voice to stay steady and calm when she’s feeling anything but.

He chuckles darkly. “Of course. I’d expect nothin’ less from you, honey.”

The endearment, one he’s used with her a million times over the years, now comes out laden and warm, sliding through her veins like liquid heat. She’s not sure how she feels about it, to be honest, but it’s a little late to turn back now.

Sandy looks at you for permission to continue. You nod.

“Okay, first, this is a one-time deal,” she begins, forcing herself to look him straight in those endlessly blue eyes.

His lips curve up with the beginning of a smirk and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what he’s thinking. She thinks it’s funny how he’s posturing, considering the whole reason she is here is to help bolster his confidence, but she supposes over twenty years of adoration from females makes his response a habit.

Honestly, it’s the stipulation she’s the least worried about, it being there more for your sake than hers, and it gives you all an out if this goes south. But boundaries are good for Elvis. So she quirks a brow back at him until he nods.

“Second, no one hears about this. It’s a nonstarter. No bragging to the guys, ever. No one outside this room can ever know…especially not Jerry.”

This is the one she is most worried about. While her marriage to Jerry ended over half a decade ago, on relatively decent terms considering the circumstances, she knows this would cut Jer to the core, and that is not why she’s here. Jerry isn’t in Elvis’ employ anymore, but they are still good friends, brothers even, and she doesn’t want to ruin their relationship.

A cloud of seriousness falls over Elvis’ face, banishing his earlier mirth, and that lets her know they are on the same page with this one, despite his terrible track record of secret keeping. “Done,” he says with finality.

“Good. Third, I reserve the right to bow out at any time,” she adds.

“Honey, I’d never force you to do somethin’ you din’t want to do. Ain’t never been like that and ain’t startin’ now,” he says with surprising gentleness.

She nods, expecting as much. Taking a deep breath, she pauses before the last request, mainly because she can’t believe she’s actually saying it out loud. Might as well just get it done.

“Finally, your dick stays out of my pussy.”

He chuckles at your frankness while you choke, coughing wildly—she hadn’t warned you about this one. It’s more the principle of the thing, really. She is along for the ride, sure, but in the end, she’s mostly here for your wellbeing. And by the way he looks at Sandy with something akin to respect and nods as she rubs his wife’s back, she knows he understands.

You eventually recover from Sandy’s bluntness, turning your attention back to your husband with a hopeful look in your eyes. “So, is this…I mean…do you want to do this, baby?”

For the first time, you see his trepidation, his overwhelm of the situation only barely covered by his mask of humor. This is what you’d been talking about, this reluctance and lack of self-assurance. When you’d come to her about the fact that Elvis hadn’t been intimate with you since the medical crisis that nearly killed him, it made perfect sense. Not only had he gone through something terrifying, but his surgeries also changed his body in ways that must have been uncomfortable. Coupled with extensive recovery and weaning off old medications and starting new ones, it was a recipe for disaster in the bedroom.

Sandy knew you had to be desperate for you to ask her for this kind of help. You knew it wasn’t because Elvis found you unattractive or didn’t love you anymore—he was afraid he couldn’t perform, afraid he couldn’t satisfy you, and you were afraid you’d hurt him somehow. It was obvious your sex life had been amazing in the past, though according to you, it had dwindled the sicker and more in denial about things he’d gotten. But for you to invite her into the bedroom to put the spark back in their marriage wasn’t something Sandy had expected.

Apparently, Elvis loved some girl-on-girl threesome action and had indulged in such things back before you and he had finally gotten together. You were never entirely comfortable with the idea when Elvis brought it up in the past—the idea of sharing him didn’t sit well and knowing Elvis, he’d make some poor woman fall in love with him or someone would talk and you’d be in a fix, so the idea had been nixed before it could take root.

But now you were frantic and willing to try almost anything, which apparently included asking your best friend to fool around with you and your husband.

It’s a matter of trust, you’d said, twiddling your fingers uncomfortably in Sandy’s kitchen, tears pooled in your eyes. You knew she’d never talk, knew she’d never betray you, and most importantly, knew she could separate sex from emotion and would never fall in love with your husband.

It was all true. How could she say no to you when you needed her help so badly? So, here she was, apprehensive but intrigued, waiting for Elvis to decide all of your fates.

“You can just watch, baby, if you want to, or whatever, it’s fine,” you encourage him when he seems frozen and unable to respond. Sandy can see you both floundering in indecision and fear and can’t stand it anymore. She’s never been one for patience or inaction, after all, so without further ado, she silences your pleas for your husband’s attention with her lips.

“Oh!” you exclaim in quiet surprise against her mouth, your hands flailing a bit in resistance.

Talking about something like this and doing it are two different things, Sandy knows, but she persists, kissing you gently, hands cupping your cheeks, until you relax enough to kiss her back. She can’t help but feel a little gratification when you sigh softly and yield to her, your hands flitting to the curve of her hips.

It would be stupid to say she didn’t find both you and Elvis attractive, but never in her wildest dreams had it been in the cards to have either of you, so she’d never dwelled much on it. But now, feeling the weight of his gaze as she laps her tongue between your lips, testing your willingness to do this, her body lights on fire.

She pushes through the foreign feeling of being watched so intimately, knowing this is just as much about putting on a good show than anything else, but she didn’t expect it to be quite so tantalizing. Something about being the one to take charge sends a thrill down her spine. Dragging her lips down your neck to your collarbone, she knows she’s not imagining the rapid fluttering of your pulse under her lips or the way you lean back to give her more access.

You’ve never been with a woman, but she knows it’s been a long time since you’ve had attention of this sort from your man, either so when Sandy trails her fingers down over your breast, she feels the jolt go through you. Her moves are deliberate but slow, allowing you to acclimate, allowing Elvis to take in every movement.

She can’t help the warmth pooling in her belly when she palms the heaviness of your breast, pinching your clothed nipple and you gasp, arching into her with genuine willingness.

“Lord have mercy,” Elvis huffs quietly, and you both know you have him.

It’s much too easy, then, to unbutton your blouse, exposing the white lace bra underneath before pulling hers up over her head to reveal her own. You’d been clear about the white—apparently he gets all kinds of excited about little white underthings—and far be it for her to ignore such a titillating detail.

Sandy takes it upon herself to continue the play, pressing her lips to the soft skin of your décolletage, following the soft rise of your breasts before nuzzling and nipping at the dusky areola peek-a-booing through the lace. Mewling and pawing at her head, you are strung so tight Sandy thinks you’re not acting in the least.

It’s a little strange, this softness of your curves against her own, but pleasant. Moreover is the deep satisfaction in her belly at drawing little whimpers out of you as she kisses and reveals more of your skin. Even more surprising is the gratification of bringing something out of both you and your husband that has been out of reach for much too long.

Your fingers cart through her hair, manicured nails tickling her scalp in a way that makes her vibrate. She arches at the contact and looks up at you with a coy smile, sliding a hand up your smooth leg and under the hem of your skirt.

Elvis clears his throat, interrupting them. “Be good lil’ girls f’me and s-strip down to your panties,” he says in a gravelly voice Sandy has never been privy to hearing. A shiver runs down her spine, melting and churning with all the new feelings the evening is bringing. His tone is halfway between a need and a command and neither of you need to be asked twice.

Her inhibitions fall to the floor in a heap along with pants and skirts and bras. Never once in her life did she expect to feel Elvis’ heavy, heated gaze turned on her nearly naked form but now that it’s happening, she can’t help but squirm a little. She has nothing to prove and is usually confident in her skin, but she’s certainly not a young woman anymore, her body soft and curvy with the changes age brings. Her only consolation is at least the three of you are in relatively the same boat in that regard.

Sneaking a glance at Elvis, she is bit relieved to find his examination admiring rather than turned off. Though, considering he has two naked women ready to do his bidding, it seems the natural response.

“Don’t be shy, Satnin. I’m sure Sandra won’t bite toohard if you touch her,” he muses, those bedroom eyes of his flickering with lust. You giggle nervously and then look to Sandy for permission, which she gives with a nod and a reassuring smile.

Your caress is timid at first, then more exploratory of her body than she expects. Maybe it’s the resounding hum of encouragement from your husband giving you more confidence or just pure sexual energy and curiosity, but whatever it is has Sandy feeling delightful. A tweak of a nipple here. A soft tongue there. Hands and mouths finding a rhythm of pleasure.

Sandy palms your bottom, running her fingertips down along the seam of your white underwear, when Elvis cuts in, his voice thick with desire:

“Play with her an’ make her feel good, Sandra.”

Tingles erupt over her skin. She follows orders, sliding her hand down into your panties and through your soft curls until she reaches your hooded clit. She rubs gently, like she would do to herself, and you gasp in her mouth, body bowing to get more friction.

After a few moments, the unmistakable sound of a zipper clicks through the air. Her body suddenly burns with the scandalous nature of it all, and her excitement surprises her.

“Is she wet?” he asks Sandy.

Sliding her fingers down, she can feel the slick of your arousal on her fingertips.

“Yes,” she says unabashedly.

A pause.

“Are you?” His voice is low and dripping with honey.

A pulse of heat starts throbbing in her core, and for the first time tonight, she stumbles over her words, suddenly breathless. “I…I think so?”

“Honey, see if you’re makin’ Sandra excited,” he commands you, then with humor adds, “She apparently doesn’t know.”

Sandy throws a glare Elvis’ way but then your fingers are cold against the blazing heat of her muff, a sensation which makes her jump as you glide your fingers over sensitive, slick skin.

“She’s soaked,” you relay demurely, and all at once Sandy feels like the tables have turned in this little tableau.

“Show me. Both of you.”

His demand makes her stomach drop, like she’s on a roller coaster.

She feels disappointed when you pull your hand away, and the sentiment feels mutual. Both of you display your shining fingers in the dim light.

Elvis crooks his finger and beckons you both closer.

There’s no helping the curious way her eyes drift down and land on his dusky pink cock, the head peeking out from his foreskin, dripping and standing at full attention now he’s been released from the confines of his black pants. Sandy’s mouth goes dry when she realizes just how much nature has blessed him in ways other than his talent.

Is it wrong that she wants to touch it, to feel the heavy heat of him in her palm? To make him shudder underneath her touch? Perhaps so. The itch to torture him with her body just a little for every cunning remark and every dumbass selfish move he’s made in the last 15 years is strong and it makes her tingle just to think of.

He must read the look on her face because his eyes go a bit wide with something unreadable before narrowing with laser focus.

Her heart starts thudding against her ribcage, all the blood rushing out of her head when he wraps his large hand around her wrist, dwarfing it, and pulls her between his spread muscular thighs. Then he draws those glistening fingers of hers right into his mouth.

She gasps. Every nerve in her body is set alight with fireworks as he sucks her fingers clean of his wife’s arousal, his tongue warm and soft and oh-so thorough.

It’s her whimpering now as he pins her with his flaming eyes. Her breath catches. His mouth pops off her digits.

“Mmm…sweet as a sundae. You’ll see, Sandra Dee.” A slow, sly grin spreads across his handsome face as he releases her wrist.

Being on the other end of that devastating smile, especially in a situation like this, has her trembling. It pisses her off a little, actually, that he’s having this effect, and by the glint in his eye, he knows it.

Like he’s saying, Game on.

Then, he looks to you, pulling you close. His mischievousness softens slightly. Sandy is glad to see under the red flush of pleasure on your cheeks there is also a look of relief on your face, as if you are thinking, “Oh, thank heavens, it’s working.”

Sandy steps back, happy to give the couple space, but Elvis’ hand shoots out, latching onto her arm.

“Nuh uh, now where d’ya think you’re goin’?” It’s husky and playful but also fraught with an undercurrent of tension, as though he’s not quite ready and maybe a little nervous about being alone with his wife. He keeps his hand on her arm but turns his attention to you.

“Haven’t sampled another pussy in a loooong time, lil’ mama,” he drawls up at you, “Ya sure you wanna give daddy a taste?” His brow quirks, asking for permission, making sure you’re still comfortable with this arrangement you’ve surprised him with. The words are confident, but Sandy can hear the gravity behind them.

You nod encouragingly. “Yes.”

“Mm’kay then,” and then he sucks your fingers right into his mouth.

Sandy can’t help but blush wildly as she watches him savor her off his wife’s hand. And it’s positively obscene the way he opens his eyes and stares into hers brazenly as he does it.

Never has she felt quite so exposed. Arousal swirls in her core, betraying all her sensibilities.

Elvis runs his tongue under his upper lip after he’s done, where he lets it peek out at the corner of his mouth with a smirk. “Now ain’t that jus’ the cherry on top,” he purrs, eyes sparkling.

Sandy hates how she goes a bit weak in the knees at that. God, this man infuriates her, always has in that loving way of his, but this is a whole different level of understanding and intimacy she’s not accustomed to with him.

But whether she likes it or not, her body is absolutely buzzing with anticipation for the both of you, as evidenced by the way she clenches her thighs and the way her panties get just a little bit more ruined.

The motion doesn’t go unnoticed by Elvis, and his gaze darkens.

Oh, it’s gonna be a long night, alright.

A long night, indeed.

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance!

Taglist Pt 1

@eliseinmemphis@russian-soft-bitch@tattywood

@sassanoe@thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle@carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23

@littlebitofgreen@paigevis@bugg06@xhannahbananax03@artlover8992

@18lkpeters@frozenhuntress67@girlblogger2002@kendralavon7@misspresley

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

@precious-lil-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @amydarcimarie@idontwanttoputanything @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog @xenaspace3-blog

@simplyamberj@claire-elvisgirl@everythingelvispresley@louisejoy86@deniseinmn @madelynpresley

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