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#'every once and a while you see him walking around with dead eyes... not knowing what they do and not caring' 'like husbands'
lymtw · 3 days
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Toji watching as you're being buttered up, sweet talked, and undressed with unfamiliar eyes, right in front of him.
His eyes don't waver from your face as you politely smile at the half drunk man on Toji's right side. The man is slurring on and on about how you're incredibly easy on the eyes, and how you stand out even in the minimal lighting of the bar, while you just laugh and try to leave the conversation by disengaging, but once again, you're roped into talking with the man when he asks if you're single.
You would have said no voluntarily, but the question clearly struck a nerve with Toji. His hand went to the small of your back, his palm circling the area slowly. It wasn't that he was insecure, he could tell you loved him from the million times you said it a day, but it was his secure claim on you.
You looked at Toji for the first time in a minute, meeting his blown pupils with attentive eyes. You could see how irked he was by this man continuing to hit on you, and you knew that Toji would get knuckles bloody if you didn't say what you knew in your heart.
You kept your eyes on his, like you were being let into his thoughts. He was dead serious, not a glimpse of light in his eyes. You didn't want him to feel this way, so in an attempt to bring the slightest amount of comfort, you put your hand on his, squeezing with reassurance. After a few seconds of silent communication, he nodded towards the man who awaited your response.
You leaned forward again and told the stranger that you were happily taken by the handsome devil sitting beside you, pointing your thumb in Toji's direction. Toji turned and gave the guy a once over, confidence cascading over him at knowing that if push came to shove, he could rock this guy's shit. His menacing demeanor radiated off of him, making the man obviously uncomfortable. He was now being sized up by someone with much colder eyes. He nervously nodded at Toji, the action not reciprocated by the latter.
The man leaned forward, like he was going to start talking to you again, so Toji turned his attention back to you. He didn't need to keep an eye on him because the man was blocked off by him. Now, if the douchebag were to walk over to your side it would be another story, but Toji would keep him in check until he tried.
You take a sip of your soda water, some of it seeping down the corner of your lip when you hear the man address you again. Toji was quick to wipe the liquid off your face with his thumb, suppressing a grin at the small "sorry", you muttered to him. You were clearly fed up with this man who just wouldn't let up. Toji could see it in the way your eyes rolled every time you had to lean forward and look past him to look at the stranger again. Your audible sigh was the last straw. No one as grimy as this mole rat looking man should have the power to ruin your time out.
Just as Toji turned to face the man again, he grabbed his belongings and stood up, getting lost in the crowd of people around you. Toji was vibrating with adrenaline, his heart pumping in his ears from holding himself back. He had to remind himself that he wasn't out alone anymore like he was used to be. The last thing he wanted was for you to be scared and cry because he decided to make a scene and rip someone's face off.
You on the other hand looked socially exhausted, your head down on the counter.
"Baby," Toji coos, leaning in so that you can hear him. "I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" His hand goes to your head, his fingers running through your hair. "People see you, and they really can't help making assholes of themselves."
"I just wanna go home, Toji," you mumble, holding your hand out to receive the car keys. Instead, he takes your hand, pulling you up and onto your feet.
"Like hell. I'm driving." His hand is on your lower back as you step away from the bar. It goes down into the right butt pocket of your shorts, as he guides you through the crowd in search of the exit.
"You sure you're okay to drive?" You ask, looking up at him.
"I'm sober as a nun, baby." He grins at the little giggle you let out. He knew it was your turn to drive home this time, but he just wanted to lift your mood again after that dickhead drained it.
"You were eating up that loser's attention, weren't you?" Toji asks, side eyeing you then looking back at the road.
"It was nice for two seconds," you respond, looking out the window. "It's always nice to be considered attractive by others."
"So, i'm chopped liver, huh?" He smirks, glancing at you again. You don't respond, so he decides to cool it with the jokes. "It feels good until you start getting unwanted attention. Don't let dumbasses like that make you uncomfortable, mama." Toji's hand goes to your thigh, three squeezes to the plush to comfort you, this time. "Was about to murder the man, but he ran away like a coward." He side eyes you when he hears that intoxicatingly sweet laugh again. "Oh, that's funny?" He asks, a smirk on his face.
"You're insane," you laugh.
"Don't act like you don't love it."
Once Toji pulls into the driveway of your house, he has his intentions clear in mind. He's gonna show you how much he appreciates you. After all, you deserve it for knowing him so well and putting up with him. It's incredible that you know when he's not okay, but also when he's having a really good day, just by looking into his eyes.
You both exit the car, Toji quickly catching up to you on the other side. His hands rest on your hips as you walk, causing you to turn around and look at him.
"Face forward or you'll crash," he says, as you near the front door of your house. He pulls out his copy of your house key, swiftly unlocking the door.
You're glad Toji has a spare to your house. Who knows how many times the door would have been replaced had you not given him one. You have a habit of taking long naps, and because of it, you quickly learned that if you leave his messages unanswered for too long, he will show up at your door and knock aggressively until you answer. There was always the 'next time i'm kicking it down by the third try' comment when you finally opened the door, so you gave him the spare to avoid that scenario.
You walk ahead to your bedroom as Toji secures your house. He locks the front door, shuts the windows, and pulls down the shades before meeting you in the room.
He leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, and allows his eyes to rake over your body as you lay there like a starfish with your limbs extended.
"You gonna make room for me or what?" He asks, walking into the room.
You cross your legs together and throw your arms over your face. "Is that enough space for you? Or should I roll onto the floor to make more room?"
"Uh-uh. Nah, baby." Toji chuckles, reaching the end of your bed. He crawls towards you, effortlessly pulling your legs apart. "You're not gonna try this attitude with me. I haven't done anything to you, so put the brat away before I do it for you."
Your heart races at the threat, and you wonder if it's real, so you spare a glance at him from beneath your forearm. Contrary to his stern words, his hands are touching your skin so delicately. His fingers trace the harsh indentations the straps of your high heel left above your ankle.
"The cost of looking so fine all the time," he mutters, under his breath. You reacted like a child, only wincing at the pain once Toji paid attention to it. You didn't spare a second thought when you undid the buckles on your heels, opting to throw yourself on the bed immediately after they were off, but suddenly you needed Toji to make it stop hurting.
Toji kisses the damage, his hand wrapped around your ankle, loosely. "My own little shard of heaven," he hums into your skin. Your arms fell beside you on the bed as you admired the image before you—Toji's very high functioning attempt at healing you.
It was a welcome change, compared to the usual effect he had on you. Being Toji's lover turned you into a flammable substance, and he ignited you. He did everything he could to make his touch your greatest weakness, and now flames rise within you every time his hands meet your skin. Your body emanates heat when he trains your flammability with lingering touches.
This time was much different.
He was the chemical that put out forest fires, he was a breath blowing out a candle, he was soothing water.
He moves up your body, his lips trailing your shin before reaching your knee. His gaze meets your twinkling one. If he looks long enough, he can locate stars in your eyes. It's something that motivates him to keep going.
He takes up the space between your legs, his hand hooked into the waistband of your shorts. His fingers fiddle with the metal button and quickly undo it, pulling the zipper down before he leans forward to kiss you. You can feel the button to his jeans on your stomach, the warm metal heating up even more as it rubbed against your skin.
He chuckles, holding himself above you. "Feeling it, too, huh?"
You run your hands up his chest and the sides of his neck, before going up one more time to cup his face. You pull him closer, allowing your lips to lock with his again. Toji could tell you wanted to devour him by the way you held onto him so tight. Your hands balled up the back of his shirt into your fists, your thighs squeezing his hips.
He breaks the kiss, looking straight into your dilated pupils while you catch your breath. It was precious seeing you this way, so needy that your body started reacting on it's own. "You know, i'm always feeling you, princess," he murmurs to you, his face inches away from yours. "Want you all the time... It's almost ridiculous how often I think of fucking you." His lips press to the corner of your lips, tracing your jawline afterwards. "I say almost ridiculous because..." his lips go further, now beneath your ear, "it's my business, and I don't care."
You giggle at his attitude, your eyes shut as you thread your fingers through his hair. His breath reaches your earlobe, bringing goosebumps to your skin. "You don't care?" You repeat.
His eyes are lidded when he leans back to look at you again. "Not one fuck is spared for anything but you, ma." His hands go down to the bare skin your unbuttoned shorts revealed, feeling up the soft warmth of your waist. You squirm slightly at the roughness of his hands combined with his lustful gaze on you.
"I've got my eyes on you anytime you're in a room, got that?" He says, bowing down to kiss below your bellybutton. He looks at you through his lashes, seeing the small nod you respond with. "Do you get it or not?" He murmurs into your skin. "Gotta give me more, pretty girl."
"I know," you respond, propping yourself on your elbows to nervously meet his green eyes.
"Good. You don't take shit from anyone but me. Am I clear?"
You laugh, letting yourself fall back on the bed again. Your sudden fit of laughter brings a smirk onto Toji's face as he continues to kiss your lower body. You compose yourself, before responding to his question. "Only you, Toji."
"Mhm," he hums, his lips grazing the lace trimming of your panties. You lift your hips to let him roll the material of your shorts and underwear down. Your legs come up to kick them off. Toji sighs, "I know you wouldn't do me dirty, ever. You're too sweet. Practically incapable, mama." Your thighs became victims to his lips. Your delicate skin gained bright red blotches in uneven patterns, an act of worship from your lover.
You knew Toji this way—dominant and possessive. This was just the start, but even if he were to only mark up your lower body, you both know they're there. You'll think of him when you change your clothes, and if you don't mind them, a simple look in that direction from Toji will remind you.
"So wet, already." He can see the glistening of your arousal coated folds. "I've only been teasing you... and you're already this wet?" It's a rhetorical question. The sight has Toji practically zoning out, almost missing the flush on your cheeks from all the attention.
"Toji..." you whine, embarrased by the amusement he finds as he keeps observing you.
"Bless you, mama," he mutters, bringing his hands towards your cunt. The tip of his middle finger is the first part of him to make contact with your pussy. He glides it up and down once to see how much of your slick he can collect. You shudder at the contact, a sharp inhale lured from you.
"See that?" He holds his hand up, showing you the shiny coat on his middle finger. You look and in a split second you see him commit a heinous act, popping the finger into his mouth to suck off your juice.
"Jesus, Toji," you put your arms over your face again to hide the furious blush that ambushed it.
"Acting all disturbed when you know i'm about to put my mouth all over your pretty pussy."
You're in no place to argue when you know he's right, so you peek at him until you feel your nerves subside a little more.
"It's so perfect. Almost don't wanna make you cum." He stares at your glossy cunt, his eyes slowly trailing up your body to meet your flustered expression.
Your heart sinks. Toji was good at maneuvering his tongue. He's made you cum more times than you can count using just the muscle, so him telling you that you possibly weren't being given that option this time scared you a little.
"Could stay here forever... between these very pretty thighs." His hand caresses your one of them, his fingers splaying on it before squeezing the plush. "Say you'll let me edge you for hours, darling." He's asking out of courtesy. If he really wants to do it, there's no need to ask for permission.
"Toji," you laugh, dropping the smile when you don't see him laughing. "Please, no." You prop yourself on your elbows again, looking down at him.
"It'll be so good. Don't even worry your pretty little head." His hand presses against your stomach, signaling for you to lie down again. He goes back down, his gaze on your cunt again. He blows on it, watching you squirm at the gentle sensation. Something about the reactions makes him chuckle, lowly. You were so weak for him, you wouldn't last five minutes. With that in mind, his tongue peeks out, testing your reaction to it against your clit. Your hips push back against the mattress when the warmth meets you.
"Stay still," he says, before trying again. The tip of his tongue glides up from your entrance to your clit, eliciting a tremble from your thighs. He smirks to himself at the sound of your quiet breaths. Another stripe is traced between your folds, a more audible moan leaving you. Your thighs falter in their ability to stay open.
"What did I just say, ma? Stay still." He pries your legs open again and hooks his arms around your thighs. Won't tell you again. I'll bring out the rope next time you interrupt me."
"I-I can't do this, Toji," you say, your nervousness clear in your gaze.
"You've barely given me a chance, and you're already a nervous wreck?" He kisses your thigh, the act somewhat settling your nerves. "Just wanna play with you... and ruin you..." Toji can feel his cock throbbing more with every second that he holds back from devouring you. "...and make you cry from how bad you wanna cum. That too much to ask for?"
"N-No, I guess no-"
"Good," he cuts you off, a grin on his face. "Just lay there and look pretty. Take everything with grace like the good girl I know you are."
You sigh, not prepared for the next couple hours you would have to withstand.
"Wanna cum?" Toji asks for the nth time that night, a twisted smile on his face while he steadily curls two fingers inside of you. Your legs tremble in your mind fucked daze, your cunt messily covered in slick and Toji's saliva. You know the answer he's gonna give you and yet you still respond with the remaining ability you have to think.
"P-Please..." you hiccup, a fresh stream of tears falling down your cheeks to accumulate with the ones that already dried. "Can I?" you attempt to sit up, your abdomen trembling as you bend slightly before falling back. "Please, Toji?" Your chest caves in with a deep breath as you try to suppress a sob.
"No," he simply says, slowly pulling his fingers out of your pulsing cunt. With all the slick that webbed onto them, he was sure you would cum so quickly if he didn't manage his pace. He sighs, fascinated by the texture of the sticky fluid on his fingers. "Poor thing," he coos, as if his boxers aren't drenched with a significant amount of precum. "You look angelic when you cry for me." His hand strokes your thigh while he peppers kisses onto the other one.
You breathe shakily when you feel his hand getting close to your pussy again. "Ready to go again?" He asks, a sly grin on his face when he meets your glossy eyes.
"Toji..." you swallow, shaking as he narrows his focus on your ruined cunt.
"Hm?" He hums, dizzy on his own obsession with making you beg for something he doesn't want to give you just yet.
"Please, I can't wait anymore. You're killing me."
Toji didn't mean to take it this far, at first. He solely intended to make you feel loved after seeing the switch in your demeanor at the bar. He was gonna kiss up your body and whisper his favorite things about you while he made love to you. Then he was between your legs and you were looking down at him with that warmth in your eyes, visually proving that you loved him to death, so he decided it was best to break you instead. He had to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.
"You can handle it. You're my good girl, and you know this gets me off, so you're gonna take it, right?"
Once again, you're left with no chance of refusing. What's another while of not being able to cum?
Toji was lapping at your cunt like you were fading away and he would never get to taste you again. He was relentless with your clit, pointing his tongue in order to abuse it with precision.
"A-Ah, fuck...Toji," you whimpered. "Please... please, Toji, please. Can I..."
"Mmm..." Toji hums, sucking on your clit. He's ignoring your pleas for mercy, too enveloped in your sweetness to think about your aching need to cum. He knows you want it, and little do you know that he's getting it to you.
"Wanna cum, baby?" He asks you one more time, his middle finger teasing your entrance.
"Uh-huh."
"Use your words, mama. Try that again." It doesn't help that he's thumbing at your clit, rubbing slowly, causing you to stutter and your thoughts to fall through.
"Y-Yes, please," you respond, shuddering afterwards. "Please, make me cum."
His fingers reentered you, immediately curling and abusing the sensitive spot hidden within you. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it with that devilish pointed tongue. You were completely ruined by the time you came. Toji pulled his fingers out of you, in favor making out of with your pussy, his lips gliding up and down your slit as you vibrated beneath him. You fisted the sheets beneath you, loud, broken moans leaving you as wave after wave of pleasure was inflicted onto your core.
"T-Toji!" You moaned, whimpering as he continued to devour you. Your juices covered the lower half of his face, dripping down his chin, and onto the collar of his shirt. Your thighs clamped around his head and your hand pulled at his dark locks as you rolled your hips against his face until you couldn't stand it anymore. "Oh god... oh fuck!" you pant. "N-No more, no more, Toji." Your thighs are shut tightly around his head, barely working to get him to stop.
He unlatches from your clit with a pop, his hands coming up to pull your thighs apart. You look at him through heavy, lidded eyes. His lips are glossy with your cum on them, his chin was dripping in it as well. After a minute of just listening to your heavy breathing, Toji climbs up your body again, your sensitive cunt twitching at the feeling of his jeans brushing up against it. His hands go to the sides of your head, sparing him stability so he lean down and kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue as the flavor is distributed between your mouths.
He breaks the kiss, his face still inches away from yours. "You taste that, right?"
"Mhm," you mumble, lightheaded from your lack of breath.
"I can have that taste in my mouth whenever I want. Aren't you jealous?"
"Mm... no, 'cause you can always share it with me. Put some of it on my tongue. Some mouth to mouth action..." you spare a lazy grin for Toji
He chuckles. "That was a once in a lifetime thing, doll. I'm all for sharing anything with you, but that's all for me."
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hidtired · 1 day
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Unfortunate Timing [Part 2]
(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist
Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)
4.2k words
Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.
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A single moment can change your life, change the world. Everything only seemed to get worse. The quarry was a group of survivors that had formed. You and the Dixons were outcasts, at least it felt like it. The girls seemed to see you in low regard being pregnant. The men were no better. They saw you as a burden. The feeling of people talking behind your back stressed you out. Being pregnant also didn’t help. You felt tired all the time, also being plagued with morning sickness. Which is a stupid name when it happens all day. Throwing up in a world were food is now limited also leaves you uneasy.
You also see that stress weighing on Daryl. It wasn’t long ago he struggled with the fact of having a kid. Now seemed even more terrifying. He was becoming short tempered, to his credit only snapping at you once but regretted the way he almost made you cry. “No! I won’t take a break I have to keep going out there for food! You’ve been throwing up half the shit I’ve already gotten for you!”
He didn’t mean for it to sound like your wrong for doing so, he knew you couldn’t help it. He saw the glassy film come to the corner of your eyes. His heart tugged. You were in your tent you shared, sat on the sleeping bag with your head shamefully down. “No, no. Come on…” he angled your face back up to met his. He sank to his knees in front of you. “I know you can’t help it. M’ just trying to say you need more. I just want to make sure you’re gettin enough.” You had asked him to stay because he was rarely around. He was out alone looking for food and you couldn’t help but see every time he came back a little more on edge. He was getting into his head to much out there.
He knows you’re having a hard time. With being pregnant at this moment in time how could you not. You had tried to talk to the mothers of the camp for advice on anything, they didn’t bat an eye to you. You had looked for support and were denied it. He saw that you were being treated like a Dixon. Something he was familiar with, and something Merle also understood. Merle became more chill around you. No more sexual comments or sexist remarks. Doesn’t mean he is any less better to be around. He treated you like a sister you thought. He still was an ass. Making mean comments or complaining about something you did. But he had become family.
Andrea was your biggest pain. She seemed like she had something to prove. She hated the traditional female roles that had been pushed onto the girls. You understood her disliking for Merle but she attached that to Daryl and you as well. She didn’t say outright mean things but subtle jabs. Week after week it was chipping at your demeanor.
So here you are now, you think almost 3 months pregnant. Seeing Daryl was the highlight of whenever he appeared. You sat in your tent with him getting ready for his 2 day hunting trip for a deer he knew was near by. He signed feeling your eyes on him, “Yer breakin my heart with that look.” Your smiling face replacing your sulking one, “I’m just missing you already.” You stood up, “You should see something before you go.” He turned to you questioningly. You pulled your shirt up over your stomach and turned to the side, “I know I haven’t seen myself in a mirror for a while but, I think I’m showing?” You looked up from your little bump that you could see spotting the surprised face he was making. He gulped before talking, “Ya sure are…” he walked closer placing a hand to your tummy. You saw his teeth were clenched. He felt the weight of pressure crushing him,
“We are doing are best, that’s all I could ask form you.”
He left for his hunt a little less stressed. You also saw Merle off later into the day with the first group run to the city. “Hey do me a favor and don’t get yourself killed.” Merle turned to you, “And have those freaks naw on m' sweet ass?” You chuckle as you walk away, “Let’s just hope you remember your ass from your elbow!”
The day progress like any other. It had just become the afternoon when the sound of the radio chirped on. It cause some disagreement about making a sign to warn others about the city. You just went back to minding your own business. You helped boil water taking notice of Lori trimming her son’s hair. You spoke up noticing the displeased look on Carl's face, “Going for a mohawk Carl? Or maybe you’re thinking bald.” His nose scrunched up at the thought. You laugh at the reaction, “Bald people run faster.” Carl smiled, “Nuh-uh!” You shook your head and shrugged, “How do you know if you won’t try.” He looked to his mom, “I’d rather have hair than be faster!” He said it to his mom like he tried convincing her to not make him bald. Lori smiled at her son, “Ya me to, but if you keep moving you might be bald at the end of this.” He straightened and stilled, but he still spoke, “I hate haircuts…”
Shane came and sat down looking at you briefly. “One of these days you’ll be missing your mother’s hair cuts.” Carl rolled his eyes, "I'd like to see that day!" It had initially shocked you that Shane wasn’t Carl's dad. You always assumed for how close they were and how often they would walk into the woods together. Then it put a gross feeling into your mouth that his father had only recently died. Shane was his apparent best friend and coworker. But it wasn’t necessarily wrong, you just didn’t like to think about it often.
After finishing with boiling water you handed it to Carol. You felt sweaty and all around unpleasant. You needed a nap. You said to Carol that you were going to lay down if they needed to find you. You woke up to arguing. The group that went out had radioed saying there was a problem. Everyone was scared for their respective family that had gone to the city. You felt a pit form in your stomach. The hormones in your body already swarming causing you to be unable to control them. You picture what happened to your Aunt in front of you. Sometimes it still feels as if the blood was still on your face. The thought of knowing she was one of those things walking around somewhere. Maybe they all were already dead let her. You weren’t exactly thrilled about Merle as a person but, you knew deep down he was another person to help protect your baby.
You decided there was no use in stressing yourself, so you went and distracting yourself with chores. Laundry, moving fire wood to our fire pit, took a walk near the perimeter, which now leaves you here at the waters edge. You used the cool water to help with the swelling in your feet and ankles. Week after week you had the sense that being pregnant is going to really suck farther down the road. You fiddle with your knife while swaying your feet in the water. Lost in your own world when an echo starts to ring out throughout the quarry.
The car alarm got louder so you slipped your shoes on and walked back up to the camp. You saw a red car and Glenn standing outside of it. Shane opening the hood and pulling something to stop its beeping. People were yelling at him for answers when a van appeared, ‘so everyone made it back.’ It was a relief to stop the constant thought of the worse. You couldn’t help but notice Merle nowhere to be seen. But that thought was pushed aside when you heard Carl scream,
“DAD!”
You watched with a smile at the reunion of the Grimes family. Also taking notice of Shane making a weird face. He probably was feeling sick to his stomach and you thought it kinda deserved. He did persuade his grieving wife. The thought was interrupted by T-dog coming toward you with a concerned face. You clicked something was wrong, then started to look around. Merle was still no where. The sinking feeling of realization hit you. T-dog watch as understanding washed over you. A hand over your mouth, “W-where is Merle?” A few others turning at the mention, Lori’s husband taking the most notice. T-dog spoke first, “He was putting all of us in danger. He was cracked out of his mind.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, ‘I told him to behave.’ You inhale trying to calm yourself, “He dead?” T-dog shock his head. You nodded looking at all the pears of eyes on you. Your eyes were shiny but nothing fell. You huffed and walked back to your tent. While you were upset about Merle being gone it wasn’t about that. It proved how fucked this new world was becoming. A world your child would have to be in. Suddenly being pregnant with them seemed like the safest place for them. Your thoughts of how it would suck later in pregnancy and 'couldn’t wait for it to be over' stopped. Your child is the safest it will ever be in its life. That terrifying thought scared you.
It wasn’t until later when the sun began to set that you had calmed. It was cold and you wanted to sit by a fire. People were surprised when you appeared and sat with them. You had over heard parts about what happened to Rick. But at the sight of you got them talking about Merle. It was Dale who brought it up, “Who is going to tell Daryl Dixon about his brother?” Rick glanced to you then back to Dale, “I will. I’m the one who handcuffed him.” Then T-dog shook his head, “Nah I dropped the key, makes this one mine.” Based on that information you started to piece what happened on the run. That thought stalled to a stop when Glenn stated, “Not to make it about race but maybe a white guy should tell him?” Is that what they thought about Daryl? They just assuming he is like his brother? You huff in anger, “Really Glenn? He is not racist. He’s only the person that, you know, been feeding all of you.” Glenn turned sheepish at your harsh tone. You stood, “But you know, leave his brother for dead seems like a good trade for how much he has been doing for all of you people!”
You visible deflate mood switching on a dime. You move a hand to your small bump, “Sorry I know you probably had a good reason, Merle is a hard ass.” You sunk back down enjoying the fire too much to go to bed. Rick’s voice spoke calmly, “Your pregnant.” He stated it more as a realization. You look to his shocked face, clearly thinking of how unlucky a timing it was to be. You chuckled speaking sarcastically, “Keep up with those observations and you’re sure to make detective.” His eyebrows drawn in by thought, “Merle was the father?” Disgust washing over your face, “Ew. God I take it back.” Everyone was surprised at your blatant dislike for Merle. They knew Daryl was the dad. You start to clarify, “Daryl is the dad.” You took notice of there original reaction, “Look I don’t like Merle anymore then you probably do. Half the time I don’t think Daryl does either! But he is still at the end of the day my family now.”
Peoples lack of trying to talk to you has put there own version of you in there head. They thought you were quiet and jumpy. Questioning if they did talk to you they would do more harm then good like with Carol. Now the few talks they’ve had or heard from you made sense. You were out spoken and just tired from being pregnant. You stood up again feeling awkward. “I’m going to bed, figure out what to say to Daryl. Maybe watch out for a punch or two.” So you walked off to bed. You were happy you could see Daryl in the morning, but the thought of him learning of his brother broke your heart. You tossed and turned most of the night with the thought.
The light shining through your tent lead you awake. Still trying to cling to as much sleep while feeling drowsy. Then you heard Carl and Sophia screams. You sat up and tried to get to your feet causing a wave of dizziness. The shuffling of stomping feet telling you people were running over there. You slip on shoes taking a moment to become alright with gravity again. Amy and Andrea walking away when you walked over a voice caught your attention, “Its gotta be the brain, don’t youall know nothing?” You smiled glad Daryl is back. When you turn the corner however you weren’t expecting a walker and deer to be sprawled out dead on the floor. You made eye contact with Daryl when the smell of the walker pulled a gag from you. The smile being wiped from your face as a hand comes to your mouth. You immediately turned back around and walked away.
Daryl was well aware of how sensitive your senses have become. You can’t handle anything raw at the moment. He noticed a week into the quarry how you would look at something raw, something that never bother you before, and it would make you queasy. Speaking of raw he should probably get the squirrels ready. He sighed watching you walk away with a love sick hopelessness washed on his face. Something that people have never taken notice of before. So he called for his brother to help, so he could get to you sooner. That's when all hell broke loose.
You heard the calls for Merle hearing Daryl walk back. Then you saw all the guys surround him. Then you watched him place back and forth. You knew that was a coping thing he did so you decided to stand closer. By the time you had walked over he threw the squirrels he’d caught at Rick. You didn’t even have a moment to yell his name when the former policemen jumped him and pinned him. Shane putting him in a headlock and Rick getting in his face. You yelled in displeasure,
“Get the hell off him!”
It was the loudest anyone has heard you, also the angriest. Shane had glanced to you before releasing his hold on him. Daryl sprung back up frustration clear on his face. When he turned to make sure you were behind him you caught a glimpse of his eyes becoming glassy. T-dog chimed in from the earlier conversation you didn’t hear, “It’s not his fault, I dropped the key.” Daryl’s voice strained, “You couldn’t pick it up?!” T-dog looked down guilty, "Well, I dropped it into a drain. But before I left I chained the door shut." Daryl shock his head and started to back up, "That supposed to make me feel better! Hell with all of y'all, just tell me where he is so I can go an get him." You hated to see him upset. You weren't expecting Lori to pipe p and volunteering her husband to take Daryl there. Rick said he was planning to go back anyways saying it was wrong for anything to suffer like that. Shane being the typical hard ass and self employed leader strongly disagreed. With a few others joining it was decided, they were going to get Merle back.
You were finally alone with Daryl again. He still seemed riled over everything but also you could see he was getting emotional. He was turned around facing away from you. You slowly wrapped you arms around him, holding him from behind. He slowly turned into you resting his chin on your head and arms going over your shoulders. You felt him release air, sinking into you. He try's to hide it but you see he is exhausted. You saw he felt like he had to prove something to you, or maybe just to himself. He released you with avoided eye contact. He took a moment with you and collected himself but, he was still a man on a mission.
You watch as Daryl throw things into a bag and refusing to met your eye to avoid whatever look that would break his heart. They were about to take off back to the city and into danger, so you stopped Daryl by putting your hands to his chest. He spoke before you could, "Look I have ta go get him, I know you don't want me goin-" You cut him of by grabbing his face, "When you see him again you tell him I warned his dumb ass, and when you get him back here I'm going to chew him out for this!" He looked at you stunned. You use your grip on his face to drag him into a kiss, "And you better comeback here without a scratch!" He smiled at you, eyes soft, he kissed you again.
"Yes Ma'am."
They had left hours ago and you had that uneasy feeling again. You respected Rick more then anyone else at the camp and he just got here. He was a decent guy but feel bad watching Carl's worried expression. Lori even flipped that he was going right after she herself said he was. Mood swings on that girl, and your the one whos supposed to be pregnant. Jim was off digging which concerned a few. It led to him tided to a tree for his own safety. Granted it was the only eventful thing that would probably happen today. Unless a swamp monster dragged itself out of the water you and all the girls were doing laundry in. Although Ed was a close to one. It was a welcome distraction all the same. To have girl talk again was essential to any girl and none can say other wise. Most of the girls seemed like they could now talk to you and it was a relief.
Although Andrea kinda still sucks the life out of fun, "So how did you end up pregnant?" Most girls look over to her wet laundry in hand and displeased looks by the question. You tightly rung a shirt and looked at her in the eye, "Well, I think your a little old for the birds and bees talk." That gained an eye roll from her but chuckles from the others. You smiled before giving her the answer you are sure she was trying to dig for, "I found out a day before the fall." The thought making you think of your Aunt. You continued on anyways, "Daryl and I hadn't been dating that long I'll be honest, so it wasn't exactly planned. Then I thought it was the end of the world." You look around to the thoughtful faces around you and shrugged, "Turns out I was a day off on that though." It was lighthearted from there, mentions of things that they missed from before. Carols unexpected and less then innocent choice sent waves of laughter throughout the lady's. That fun was crushed by the swamp monster known as Ed.
It lead to something you didn't expect. His sexism rubbing everyone the wrong way. Making Andrea questioned what he did instead of sitting on his ass doing nothing. Which while true and agreed with it lead to him to try to take Carol away and most likely go hit her. When Andrea challenge Ed in doing so it left a sinking feeling in you. You were uncomfortable with confrontation, probably do with the way your parents had treated you. Even with the sinking feeling you try and pull Carol behind you. The exaltation of his action were unpredictable, "Think I won't hit some pregnant whore?!" That was the first swing. It almost fully landed grazing your cheek. Carol had used the arm you had on her to tug you back before he swung. The frightened yelps and yells grabbing the attention from those farther. Carol now stood slightly in front of you, your cold damp hand moving to your warmed cheek he clipped. Ed now focused on his wife slapping her and trying to drag her away but the other girl now stepping in and clung to her. You didn't even see Shane before he pulled Ed backwards and began to lay punch after punch into him. Everyone but Carol were stunned into silence. Carols cry's and the grunts coming from the men filled the air. So many Jim wasn't the only thing that was going to happen today.
Everything was tense after that. With the amount things gone wrong and the still missing members that went to the city, moral was low among the group. Later in the evening Amy and Andrea had gone fishing catching dinner. The sun drifted closer to fully set as the fish was cooked with one question still in there minds, 'Where were they?' The smell of the fish left you gagging and need for fresher air. You found you way back to the water to dip you again swollen feet. It wasn't a unusual thing you did, you did it often. Knife in hand and legs swaying in the cool water. The light dissipated making you aware you should get back soon. You had heard laughs by the camp so moral was rising from the stressful day. You used your cold hands to press to your reddened face from almost getting flattened out by Ed. Daryl would will not be happy about that. You had pulled you feet from the water shaking the water off them to put your shoes on. Then the day got even worse. A scream ripped threw the air making you turn to the sound. You see outlines of figures in the dark. You feel fear crash into you.
'Walkers...'
There were even two coming closer to you from the woods to the side of the water. They had almost snuck up on you if you hadn't looked around because of the scream. A tremble was in your hand as you gripped the knife you had. You slowly back away, hearing gunshots off in the air. Daryl had taught you this for this moment. He had grilled this into in fear that maybe he wouldn't be around to protect you. The first walker was a thin women, the other a male missing its arm and limping. You lunged the knife into the women's eye. Your knife breaking by the blade as the women fell over dead. The snapping of the metal was like slow motion, the other walker steps away from you. You step back bare feet getting hurt by the jagged rocks. You had looked down spotting a larger rock and hurriedly pick it up.
You remember the motions Daryl had showed you for self defense but had never practiced them with him. He didn't really like the idea of rough housing with his pregnant girlfriend even if it was for your defense. You reached and tugged the one arm the walker had and tripped the thing in the motion. It was flat on the floor about to get back up and grab at you. However, rock in hand you threw downward blows one after another even after the thing stopped moving. Blood splatting all over you shirt and down your arms. The buzz of adrenalin causing your hands to violently shake when you stopped swinging. The urge to cry was strong but you notice the now slue of gunshots that had increased stop. The silence broken by the yell and worried cry for your name.
"Y/N!!!"
Your body fluttered at the sound of Daryl. Still bare foot you ran up the gravel hill and yelling back to him with a emotional in your voice, "DARYL!!!" You had made it to the top getting to see him wipe around to your voice. His crossbow dropped to the ground as you both booked it toward each other. He didn't know what to think when he couldn't find you after the last walker fell. The inability to find you cracking a desperate hole into his chest. When he heard you and saw you running to him relief flooded him. As he ran panic rose again seeing you dripping in blood. Inches apart he heard your desperate sobs before crashing into one another. He pulled you off your feet lifting you into him. His voiced stuttered out, "Are you bit?! Are you ok?!" You voice quivering as you sucked in a breath. "I'm alright-t." He felt you shaking like a leaf and whispered into you, "I've got ya, nothin is gonna hurt ya." You had barred your face into his neck now crying in relief. Daryl helped you get cleaned up, that night you clung to him while everyone 'slept'. A moment can change everything, and it was clear to everyone after today.
They were no longer safe here and things were only going to get worse.
Part 3
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suraemoon · 3 days
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Could I please request jealous Rosie hcs or Rosie reaction when you are the initiate the first move hcs. Thank you 😊
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I’ll admit right now that the turn out time for this is embarrassing. You’ve caught me in…I think the most stressful week of 2024 so far buttt here we are. My deepest apologies. I’ll be better. Here’s some Rosie. 🌹
Jealousy, Jealousy:
Rosie is very protective of his girl but not overbearing. He knows how secure the relationship is and trusts you to make good decisions. But, of course he notices when another man is getting a little too friendly. When at public places, Rosie doesn’t usually get far enough away for stuff to like this to happen, but due to how drop dead gorgeous you are (the pretty smile that can brighten up anyone’s day, the sparkling eyes that resemble a steady pond, the million dollar legs that give Betty Grable a run for her money) the bold men stay bold. Laughing at things that aren’t meant to be jokes, getting a little too close, etc. He is the king of passive aggression and snark. It’s so obvious that he’s annoyed. Just by the tone of his voice, anyone with common sense can tell he isn’t amused.
An arm wrapped around your waist, interlocking fingers, a random kiss to the temple.
Increased use of the words “us” and “we”
Just plain out saying that you’re his ____ (girlfriend, fiancée, wife, etc)
He’s not subtle but that’s because he has no reason *to* be subtle. He’ll happily let the whole would know he’s yours and you’re his. He’ll redirect conversations, end them as soon as possible, whisk you away into the crowd.
The next day he casually comes across the same man while you’re at home, safe and absolutely clueless of the intersection. That talk isn’t pretty, I’ll tell you that. He’s a lawyer, he has a way with words. It’s direct, serious, and straight to the point. It’s in his job description to argue but it isn’t really an argument, due to the fact that the other man is left terrified of Rosie. Stood frozen in place, shocked. It’s like getting yelled at by a stern parent. Let’s just say…you never see that man again and if you do, he steers clear of your path like you’re a black cat on a halloween night.
A Feminine First Move:
Anon, you’ve got the thought of Rosie’s reaction to a girl making the first move stuck in my head and it’s so adorable. I’m thinking it happens when he first comes to Thorpe Abbotts and is so awkward and dorky. (Talking about flying planes in underwear, you know…the usual) His nickname is Rosie for more reasons then one, he has the prettiest blush. When you walk up to him offering a drink at the bar followed by a slow dance to the romantic jazz of the band, his cheeks are a shade of pink for the whole rest of the night. He’s taken back over how a girl as pretty as you can be so invested, so quick. Imagine his awkward conversation fillers; your siren eyes are so distracting, staring deep into his soul. You listen intently to every single word, a trait that’s appreciated but nervewracking at the same time. He stutters as he talks, trying not to bring up anything embarrassing that would bring it all to ruin.
He tries to keep up with your flirting by replying with some romantic remarks of his own. Soon he gets into the groove and you two have such a magnetic energy. It’s dazzling, it’s exciting, it’s everything. He really gets into his element once the surprise wears off. That doesn’t stop him from reverting back to his dorky, adorable self once you give him a kiss goodnight, your red lipstick on his pink cheek. He waits until your out of sight to dance his way to bed. You two dream of eachother that night. It’s the blossoming of something new, something special.
the dancing i’m talking about lol
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levmada · 2 days
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sequel to this post
[@dressycobra7 :3]
➥ c/w: gn!reader, some angst, oral (m!receiving), praise, subby Levi canonverse, established relationship, handjob, finger sucking?, turned into smut somehow
➥ wc: 1.8k
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The boy appeared to you and Levi later to apologize profusely like that was the reason he'd been born. You didn't have the heart to turn him away, and filed inside the small recovery room behind him, with its half-exposed brick walls. The curtains were shut, but enough light penetrated. Levi looked too tired to stop him, and it took an arduous amount of time to get through, but his answer was short, to the effect of, If you're not court-marshaled, don't do it again. A slightly upper angle and I would've bled out. Then where would we be?
You're still thinking about that as you stock the closet with some of his clothes. Mandatory bedrest for at least a week, and after that, take it slow. Levi practically shriveled up when someone said 'wheelchair', and he preferred if hospital germs didn't get into his quarters.
You'll have his squad up there every day doing routine cleaning, "trouble" which Levi didn't need to exert his mind over. He's busy being stubborn.
You turn around when you hear porcelain clink. He's leaned over the dresser next to the bed, trying to take the tea.
"Levi," you scold.
"We don't need Hange to tell me my arms are in fine working condition," he grumbles, leaning back as you come over.
He's right, though. No one would even notice any arm wound because the bandages and plaster wrapping around his lower leg are bordering-on gaudy. It's propped up on a fat pillow, also white, the same as his soft-looking boxers and collared shirt (of which many buttons hang loose). In the glowing late afternoon, he looks ethereal, not quite of-this-world. A dove which is angry and stubborn and trapped.
"Still," you say quietly.
"I'm fine... I don't need anything."
Mikasa and Sasha had picked flowers, which you set in a watered glass jar atop the dresser. White again.
You watch him sip, and go over when he's done, laid propped up against pillows. A wooden bench at the side; you sat for hours while he slept through the day (the whole incident happened this morning). You sit on it now.
"I know... But why not want?" you repeat, quietly looking down at your hands.
"Who are we to want anything?"
You sharply look. "Why are you talking like this?"
He just watches you, shrewdly, but with a weakness not indicative of him. It might be exhaustion talking...
"We could always die. Titans could get in—"
"I'd kill them."
"Not like this..."
You said the wrong thing—the wrongest thing. His lips press into a thin line, barely-concealed contempt and clean daggers for eyes. The way he looks, like he believes if he tensed up enough, then he'd turn invisible and leave this argument in the dust.
You gesture slightly. "Because I would protect you. Even if I wasn't one of your comrades, or a soldier."
His lip twists in a unique disgust, which is the most you can see, his head turned towards the wall. Over his stomach, his hand tightens into a fist. "If you weren't, you'd die. Then I'd be dead anyway."
You swallow. You want to yell, and cry.
"I don't want that, either way. You didn't deserve to... see me like that. That seems to be why I'm talking like this."
The anger has left him. Delicately, you stand and seat yourself on the edge of the bed by his waist. "I've seen you be lots of things. 'Weak' is okay too. And I'm okay with seeing you like that as many time as I must, which is once so far."
He scoffs softly through his nose.
You lean forward more, and walk your fingers through his hair. Blacker than night, soft. There's a little piece you tuck behind his ear. His eyes flutter, letting out a deep breath. You can almost see the goosebumps.
"I know we'll die, and I know we belong to something much bigger, but can't I love you anyway?"
His breathing hitches a little, and his eyes open. It's a wonder what he's thinking, if he's even thinking about it, his adam's apple bobbing.
"Do whatever you want. I'm fine, if it's possible I can be with you."
It's your heart's turn to flutter, and just as soon, lean over awkwardly, your head resting on his chest and your arms around him (at least as much as they can be). You hear his heartbeat. The slowing, smooth rhythm of his choppy breathing carrying your upper half. His arm slips around your waist, content to rest his lips in your hair. As the time passes, he's more and more comfortable to hold you to tame the fear his anger betrayed. By that time, your arm's fallen asleep; you rub his side.
As tempting as it is to go down to the mess crowded for dinner, and contend with questions, you stay, just appreciating existing next to him.
"Your back," he mutters. You've been bent over a while.
"Mm." He's officially being ignored.
His hand slips over yours on his side, stopping you. His face doesn't give anything away, maybe purposefully so, and so you smile.
Leaning up, a fond kiss to his cheek. "You're cute when you make that face. Is your leg feeling okay?"
He clicks his tongue mildly with his head turned out, just showing you his cheek and one blue-grey eye. "'m fine," he says quietly.
Curious eyes search. Maybe he's downplaying something, but not lying. With nothing you'd rather do, you kiss down his jaw now, to the tender, pale column of his neck. His chest lifts suddenly against yours.
His question sounds like an afterthought. "What're you doing?"
"'m loving you," you lift your lips to say. (A little embarrassing to say out loud.)
"Yeah." His lips are still in your hair, but are stirring.
You remember he has your hand when he starts bringing them down. All across your upper half, you feel him breathing, and it's a little deeper.
You switch sides, putting you at an awkward angle to kiss him. He starts to move over towards the wall, but you stop him with a firm hum fast enough, and sit up. No walking, Moblit had told him firmly. What you kind of wish he'd said now is no moving his legs. For now you ignore it pushing snugly against the front of his boxers, but there's a wisp of a giggle in your chest.
You shift the pillow carefully, and he follows, until there's enough room for you there beside him. The mattress is only half-decent, but it's warm from his body.
He looks annoyed that you're smirking, if only he could come off the slightest bit intimidating blushing so hard like this. Pink warmth creeps down his neck and disappears beneath his open, rumpled collar.
"Tch." He just captures the nape of your neck and pulls your lips against his—a little slowly that comes with tiredness, but that much more passionately.
While you play with his lips, giving him away to you, your palm roams between his thighs. You pause there. Right as he shivers with his lip trapped between your teeth, you pull away and leer over him. "Don't move, baby. Move and I'll stop."
His eyes narrow in a bratty display.
"I mean it." You smile. "Even a touch" You stroke through his clothes slow and firm, immediately bringing a dreaming-like quality to his eyes. He almost can't look at you, especially as he huffs and it throbs under you.
"Baby?" You lick your thumb.
"I won't move." He huffs again, harsher this time. "Ugh, I won't fucking move, but you can't just—"
Your free hand, your thumb, falls against his jaw and stops his soft lips from flapping, so now a whole new quality of lust emerges in his expression. You're freeing his cock from his shorts as he instantly takes you in, so soft and sweet and giving. The heat that immediately consumes your thumb is melting, almost too intense to handle.
"Good boy, letting me."
His eyes flutter as you find where wetness has drooled from the tip of his stiff cock, spreading it around in your palm. It's easy to hold him, how he was made for you, and even easier to touch him to attract his hips, and the beginning of whispered whines he always always tries to suppress.
He hasn't forgotten, though. At the moment you send him a warning look, he relaxes, and his eyes are closed. You didn't notice him take hold of your wrist, holding just to hold, and gripping the front of his shirt with the other hand, since you're not close enough.
"Good boy," you murmur again. A moan vibrates round your thumb, his cock straining in your fist. "That's my good boy..."
It seems all the squirming he doesn't do has to go towards suckling and nipping your thumb instead. You watch his brows furrowed in deep focus as you build up your firm strokes. It's getting just as wet. He can't last.
You smile to yourself as your pumps rise to his tip, firm but quick flicks of your wrist. His back bows against the bed, the moan in his throat breaking apart into a whine. That aside, he stays perfectly still, so you let it slide.
"Does it feel that good when I touch you? Going to come, sweetheart?"
"Mm," his voice comes firm and tightly-wound. His eyes open into slight slits, see you watching shamelessly, and shut again. "Mm!"
Just as he throbs and tenses up. You bend over gripping down low, abruptly tearing your hand away from his mouth to sink his cock inside yours; pinning his hips, rubbing his heavy balls in your grasp.
"F-Fuck, fuckfuck!" He takes sudden, almost too-tight hold of your hair, gasping, and tearing the sheet, and shuddering. He moans all through it, broken whispers of your name, almost hummed at the top of his throat at the quietest, and always eagerly throbbing in the hot suction of your mouth. You take everything in deep swallows.
When finally, his hips are threatening to squirm to shy away and his cock softening, you pull off. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as he melts into the sheets. He has half of his bright red face hiding under his arm, catching his breath.
"Fuck, I don't know how you expected me to stay still. Come here." He lowers his arm.
"For the mess." You smile sweetly.
"Come here."
"You're not doing anything." But you do, and let him give you a kiss. He looks extremely unhappy about that, but for once, it looks like he'll listen when you say.
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Levi masterlist | main masterlist
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el-im · 2 years
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Scared Stiff (1953) dir. George Marshall
- You mean you killed a perfect stranger? - Nobody’s perfect!
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deadghosy · 1 month
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🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
JELLYFISH! READER X HAZBIN HOTEL
Prompt: A sea creature wants to bring light in hell. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🪼⋆。˚
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𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚ you died while being an oceanographer. You studied the ocean for its plant and creatures. You drowned specifically while trying to push a jellyfish away from you. And honestly, you went to hell becoming a flowing beautiful jellyfish.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Charlie welcomed you with opened arms, she liked how beautiful you are. The way you flow in the air, you were eye catching and majestic
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚jellyfish! reader is a Mitski, grimes, and tv girl fan of music. I think it fits their vibe at how peaceful but dangerous they are with their stingers.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how your human form would look. Jellyfish hair cut with the colors of the blue from your og form with some pink and purple. Or like blue and light blue. You would be an actual main attraction to the hotel.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you probably did get mistaken to get sent to hell instead of Heaven. You were beautiful like a heaven angel, but you were in the depths of hell. Surprisingly the hotel was a safe haven for you.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚a beautiful creature like you gain the attention of many to the hotel. You could say that you are the main attraction. And Charlie doesn’t use you like that, but she does make you a resident to get into heaven.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vaggie finds you calming. You have this type of aura around you that just makes people relax. So your hotel room is specially designed to your liking. Which is a dark blue wall with a glowing blue that has ocean waves. It’s basically jellyfish’s en ocean designed. It’s just so magical.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you love floating around as keekee would follow you around. Then you would have the egg boiz following you plus fat nuggets. You just collected your own little band of little people.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚husk doesn’t know much about you in the hotel other than you are practically the princess/prince of the water in hotel. You make sure the water is okay as it’s your duty.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once had made water appear. You had guess you have water power based on you drowning. And using that power, you soaked husk who started to go crazy almost scratch angel dust in irritation. 
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Lucifer admires your colorful being. Like he may seem as if he doesn’t care about you. But he sorta does as he secretly makes you a jellyfish toy that lights up in the dark.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚alastor, he might as well try to see what you are. He still senses a human soul in which makes him want to get your soul. A human souls is rare than a disgusting sinner’s soul. But you sting him every time he tries to even get close.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once accidentally stung Alastor with your stingers. He oddly didn’t lash out at you, but rather just walked away. He was trying to hold on the stinging pain you gave him.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sir Pentious found you alluring even. Frank and the rest of the egg boiz agree. Frank once called you mom/dad since you were singing him a lullaby.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how crazy you can be. Like one day you are the calming person every one loves and knows in the hotel. And next thing people know is that you are stinging people just because they breathed the wrong way around you.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚luckily you are a passive aggressive person sometimes. Or else you would be frying people like bacon. EXTRA CRISY‼️
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚angel dust dead ass thinks you should have a cute blue ocean crown or necklace. Maybe even a cute blue with purple star car. Bro he’s thinking of so much ways to make you girly pop.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you could’ve had shocked angels, and I mean literally cause if it was the battle between hell and heaven. You would win lmao. Cause what if you shocked then hoes into an angel kebab
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on how your stingers is as powerful like the jellyfishes in SpongeBob. You area full electric chair.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vox had a whole board about who tf were you. Legit was giving crazy science man vibes cause how tf is a jellyfish in hell?! You don’t even look demon! You dead ass don’t fit the hell palette. As he is making theories, Valentino and Velvette just stare at each other like “wtf is this?”
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚now say you did went to heaven. Everything would probably be different, but you are something no one had seen before. A jelly fish angel? Yeah that seems unique.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Heaven would admire your original look. Your calming energy makes most of heaven better. Like say for example the angels complement each other with the light of your energy and how your energy flows. You basically have a pheromone, but it’s for positivity to be spread. #bethereasonsomeonesmiles LMAO
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Adam probably makes fun of how you are such a small sea thing creature. But then he switches up when you turn into your human form and start to sting his ass every time he tries to offend you. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sera would possibly have you as a cherub cause of your small jellyfish form. It only makes sense for you to be one as you are so adorable.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Emily adores you. She knows you don’t mean any harm towards her with your stingers. She’s the type of person who makes you a flower crown cause she loves it be creative around people she likes. Honestly 10/10 friendship honestly.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚lute probably doesn’t care about you much. Other than your stingers are damn annoying. She just wants to rip them out, but you are is kind and sweet. So you have her vote to stay in heaven with her.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on you just humming a soft lullaby as you swim in the air, your blue soft glow in the dark makes anyone go to sleep. The blue is pretty alluring.
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A/N: I tried a different writing style with the “bullet points” I hope you guys like this lol and sorry if it seems lazy.✨ inspired by: @selvyyr <3
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triptuckers · 4 months
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I've got you - percy jackson
Request: yeah! "percy x fem!reader are on an unofficial quest together just before the big titan war (so set just before last olympian). idk what the quest is but basically reader gets injured during a fight w a bunch of monsters and percy goes a little crazy and does everything he can to protect her and once all the monsters are dead he’s super gentle and sweet w her??" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you're busy battling a handful of monsters when for a second it looks as if it might be your last fight. luckily, percy is there Warnings:  fighting, mentions of blood, injuries, swearing, angst Word count:  1K A/N: the show creators need to add grover's song from ep3 to spotify because it's been stuck in my head since wednesday. thanks for your request, enjoy!
gods forbid you're ever on a quiet quest.
you can't wait to get this over with so you can go back to camp and actually get a decent amount of undisturbed sleep.
the other kids at camp are probably spending their afternoon relaxing, or polishing their weapons, or sitting by the lake, or literally anything that's peaceful. not you and percy.
you're busy getting rid of at least half a dozen monsters.
percy's is in the distance, fighting his way through a couple of monsters. he's a blur of movement and you occasionally hear him curse or make a sound.
you know percy can handle himself. but it doesn't stop you from looking over your shoulder every once in a while, to check on him.
the second time you try to catch a glimpse of percy, it's a mistake.
you feel something sharp sink into your side.
with one swing of your sword you decapitate the monster, but not before his fang breaks off, still stuck in your leg.
'oh fuck.' you mutter as you see blood start to gush out of the wound around the fang.
but there's no time to rest. another monster lashes out at you, raking his claws through your shoulder.
you yell out in pain, getting percy's attention.
you drive your sword through the monster just as percy starts running toward you.
'fuck.' you mutter, looking at your leg.
well, that doesn't look good. you know demigods don't live long. but you would have liked some more time with percy. preferably when you don't have to fight monsters.
'y/n!' yells percy, who has nearly reached you.
'percy...' you say as he catches you before you fall to the ground.
'shit, hold on.' says percy. he carefully lowers you to the ground in his arms. there's a panicked look in his eyes as he looks at your leg.
he quickly reaches down and tears off a piece of his shirt.
'percy!' you yell, looking at a monster that's running towards the two of you at full speed.
with one swift motion, percy slices through the monster with his sword, then he drops it and turns back to you.
he pulls you towards him and wraps the piece of his shirt around your thigh, above your wound.
'how many behind me?' he says.
you look over his shoulder, quickly counting the monsters that are making their way to you. it doesn't look good. 'seven.'
'sorry.'
'wait, for what-'
you're cut off as percy pulls the knot tight, sending a sharp pain through your leg.
'fuck! percy!' you curse.
'I said sorry. stay here do not pull that out.' says percy, pointing at the fang that's still stuck in your leg. he presses a quick kiss to your forehead before turning around and charging the monsters.
you knew percy could fight but holy shit.
it's like he moves with unnatural speed as he works his way through the monsters, making sure none of them slip past him to you.
even more so, he makes it look easy. almost god-like.
when you overheard someone from your cabin say that he's the most powerful demigod of your generation, you thought "sure he's a poseidon kid, it makes sense". you hadn't really thought much of it.
to you percy had always been, well, percy.
he always makes you laugh with bad jokes and saves you a spot at the campfire. he'll walk with you to your cabin if it's raining so you wouldn't get soaked. he prefers to sleep with you next to him, claiming it's so he won't get nightmares, but you know it's because he just wants to use you as his pillow.
but as you see him fighting off the monsters, lashing out and stabbing them like it's nothing, you realise what others see when they look at him.
suddenly percy is in front of you again, brushing monster dust off of his shoulder like it's no big deal.
'you okay?' he says, kneeling in front of you. he reaches out to gently cup your face.
you're silent as you look at him.
'y/n?' he says, looking you in your eyes, brows furrowed.
'did I mention I'm like, really really in love with you?' you say.
percy smiles briefly. 'yeah you've mentioned it.' he says. 'how are you feeling?'
'lucky to have you on my side.'
'I meant your leg, y/n.' he says, moving so he can inspect your leg.
'still hurts.'
'that shoulder also looks bad.' says percy. 'listen, I'll pull the fang out and give you nectar but it will still hurt, okay? then we'll look at your shoulder.'
'alright, make it quick.'
percy nods, then hands you some nectar.
'want me to count down?' he asks.
you nod, reaching out to take one of his hands in yours.
percy wraps his free hand around the fang.
you take a deep breath and nod at percy.
percy looks you in the eye and gives you an encouraging smile. 'sorry in advance. 3... 2... 1!'
with one swift motion he pulls the fang out. blood gushes out of the wound and the pain is unbearable. you close your eyes and feel how percy gently pushes the nectar to you and you take a sip.
it tastes like the drink sally made for you when you visited percy's home for the first time.
you keep your eyes closed as you wait for the pain to go away. you can feel percy rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, comforting you.
'it's already helping.' says percy softly.
you reach out and wrap your arms around percy.
'it's okay. I've got you.' says percy, holding you close. 'we can sit here for a while, but then we have to keep moving, okay?'
'okay.' you say, feeling percy press a kiss to your forehead.
you're really glad percy's here with you. if it weren't for him, you're not sure you would have made it back to camp in one piece, or at all.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max
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taylormarieee · 4 months
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Tie's and Trends Miguel O'Hara
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Summary: You saw a trend and wanted to try it on Miguel...
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
Word Count:
Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY, Smut, edging, porn with plot, PiV sex, Miguel begging, Switch reader, Switch Miguel, Cream-pie
A/N: This was kind of requested but heres the original post where it all started...
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"Miguel! Can I do this to you please!" You ask on your knees begging to do this TikTok trend with him.
He stares at your phone again and you can see the way his mind is racing. Moving like Clockwork.
"I don't know Bebita." He runs. his fingers through his hair. Little did he know you were making those cute puppy dog eyes you know he couldn't resist.
He finally looks down to you still on the floor and see's your face. He mentally curses himself and out loud.
"Mierda, You little-" Before he could finish his sentence your smiling, getting up and sprinting to go find a ribbon.
You. already knew what the answer was because of his reaction. When you finally come back with the ribbon he is staring at you with a look you've seen time and time again, but did you care? Nope!
"This is so stupid." He says as you tie the ribbon around his arms. His arms were a lot larger than others so you needed a slightly longer ribbon.
Once you finish tying it, you step back and observe your man. He looks so cute, yet extremely hot with those bulging veins in his arms.
You observe his hands and ten move down to the sweatpants he's wearing. He always wore sweatpants to tease you.
He knew you couldn't stop looking. Every 5 minutes you tried to at least get one glance of down there before he caught you.
But now? He was dead staring at you with his beautiful brown eyes. That red tint sparkling in the light.
"Miguel..." You whimper. It was supposed to come out nice and clear but more thoughts entered your head.
Miguel sits down and spreads his legs as if he alrfead knows what your about to ask.
"C'mere princess." He whispers motioning to his thigh. You walk over and sit on his thigh. He jolts his leg slightly to tease you.
"Miggy?" You whine out. He raises and eyebrow and smirks. "Yes mama?" He asks.
"Can ride you p-please." You squeak out. You fiddle with your fingers and look down trying to hide from his intense gaze.
"Go on baby..." He replies. When you look up at him a surge of confidence bolts down your spine and you feel the urge to become dominant.
"Your keeping the tie on. And No touching. I mean it." You sday pulling down your pants. He pulls his down halfway, without breaking the ribbon.
You pull them down to his ankles and remove his boxers. His semi-hard cock springs out and soon stiffens at the cool air.
You rub your hand up and down on his cock making precum leak out from the tip.
You quickly lined yourself up with his dick and slid down on him. You moaned out as you felt his huge cock stretch you out. He throws his head back in pleasure dying to touch you.
He knows he could break out of this ribbon but for you and your wishes, he has decided to keep it on until you say otherwise.
"Yea? You like that Miguel?" You ask as you roll your hips in that way that has Miguel cumming in seconds.
"y-yes, oh fuck... Meirda my love!" He says tightening his fists in the sheets.
"You gonna cum for me Miggy? Huh baby?" You taunt bouncing on his deliciously huge cock. You feel him all in your stomach.
You move your hand close to his throat as you roll your hips, lifting your hips and sinking slowly back down on him.
"Please mama, let m-me cum. Please? I-I've been good." Miguel whimpers out. His eyes wide and glossy.
You nod your head and he suddenly rips out of the ribbon dying to hold you while he shoots his delicious load inside you.
He flips you over a fucks into you to keep his load in. Something animalistic emerges from him as he roughly thrusts into you.
You cry out before you orgasm comes rushing through you. You scratch at Miguels back leaving red fresh marks.
"OH Fuck Miguel! Yes, give it to me please!" You cry out. He gives you what you want. He helps you ride out your high before pulling out.
He watches as his cum drips from your abused pussy and admires you in your fucked out state.
"I hated that." Miguel speaks out into the silence. You look up at him and prop yourself up on your elbows.
"Too bad, we're so doing that again." You say with a teasing smirk on your face.
He whines and whimpers at the fact that you want to do it again but you can see him trying so hard not to smile at the idea.
You loved your good little boy Miguel O'Hara...
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Strictly written for ( @luvrxbunny , @queerponcho and @sunve1ns)
Taglist: @obviouslynini @itzdarling @grixonsdoll @aerangi @
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pholla-jm · 12 days
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Heir (2)
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IMAGINE: HEIR~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: sukuna is a bit ooc. f!reader. true form sukuna. not proof read
If you haven't read the first part, here it is: Heir. ***************
As months went by, your stomach got bigger and rounder. Your back was certainly hurting, feet aching, and a constant need to go pee. 
You almost hated every second of it. 
If it wasn’t for the fact you were bringing life into the world, you would’ve hated every second of it. 
Someone that was almost more excited than you was your lover, Sukuna. He was dead set on the baby being a boy. He was so excited to raise a boy to create a future heir. 
He even already picked out a name for him. Akumu, not a common name but it was one that Sukuna liked and it was set. 
However, you had a feeling that you were having a daughter. But, Sukuna was not hearing any of that. But just in case, you picked out a name just in case it was a girl. You wanted to have a similar vibe that Sukuna wanted so you chose Yumekui. 
You were very close to your due date and you were extremely nervous. You felt like you weren’t ready. You felt the nursery wasn’t ready or that things weren’t baby proofed enough. 
That’s why you paced around the castle, trying to get things ready. You didn’t care that your feet ached and your back was crying for help. All you cared about was making sure that everything was ready and perfect for the baby.
You know who did care? Sukuna. He didn’t like how you are constantly on your feet, pacing around and just being worried in general. 
“Woman.” Sukuna calls out once he finds you wandering the halls. You turn to him, already knowing you’re about to get scolded. “You should be resting.” You pout a little, “but do you see that over there?” You say while pointing to an area where a sharp corner was protruding. 
Sukuna follows your finger, “yeah. What about it?” “What if the baby hurts themselves from that?” Sukuna rolls his eyes, “you’re being paranoid. Our son will be strong. A corner is not going to harm him.” 
There’s that word again. Son. You often thought about what his reaction would be if it was a daughter instead. Would he be mad? Would he kick the both of you out? Would he kill the child? All these negative thoughts clouded your mind daily. 
That’s why when the time came, you really didn’t want Sukuna in the room- just the midwives. However, Sukuna wanted to be in the room with you and no one was really going to defy his orders. 
Sukuna was being super supportive though during the whole process. He held your hand and let you squeeze as hard as you wanted, even though it felt like a little pinch to him. He also kept a clean towel to wipe the sweat off of you. Even the sly cursing didn’t affect him. 
The process felt like hours and you were sure you looked like a hot mess. Sukuna didn’t care though. In his eyes you were still the most beautiful woman. 
You could feel the baby coming through and it was only confirmed by the midwife when she said the head was crowning and you only needed to do a couple more pushes. 
You were happy to hear that as you started to feel more tired and weak with every second that passed by. 
Finally, you heard the sound of an infant crying. Relief washed through your body. Until you heard the words you didn’t want to hear.
“Congratulations. It’s a girl.” 
You felt Sukana’s grip on your hand loosen until he completely lets go of your hand.
You could feel your heart drop and your skin paled. You wanted to grab the baby before Sukuna did. But you were too weak to sit up correctly. 
“W-wait..” Your voice only came out as a whisper as your back hit the bed. “I want..” You couldn’t speak anymore as your head lolled to the side. You could feel a midwife trending to your side. 
The last thing you saw was the midwife holding the child and Sukuna walking up to the child. You could see the subtle frown on his face as he looked down at the small baby. After that, your vision went black as you went into a peaceful slumber. 
*************
Everything felt sore. Extremely sore. It took you a minute to come to your senses. But when you remember your situation, you sit up. Hoping to find your daughter safe and sound. 
However, what you saw was the last thing you expected.
Your daughter was swaddled, in the crib sound asleep. 
What shocked you even more was Sukuna. The man who said who wanted a son, stood at the crib admiring his child. 
His large body was bent over so his arms were crossed and leaning against the edge. His head was tilted to the side and resting on his arms. You would have never guessed you would see a sight like this. He looked almost… soft. All though, you would never say that to him. 
Sukuna heard the rustling of the sheets causing him to sit up a little. 
“I’m glad you’re awake.” He says and you nod your head. 
“Are you mad?” You softly ask him. “Why would I be mad?” “You know… for having a daughter. Not a son, like you wanted.” 
Sukuna laughs, but not too loudly to wake the baby. 
Sure, he was a bit upset when he heard that it was a girl. But as soon as her eyes opened, the same red color as his, he swore he could feel his heart stop. The cries were weak and pathetic in his opinion. However, when the midwife handed her over to him, her cries stopped. The baby looked up at him with wonder and she showed him a gummy smile. 
Sukuna would never tell you that as soon as her cries stopped he started to love the child. 
“No. She’s so small. I decided that having a daughter isn’t too bad.” You chuckle at his answer and peer over the crib, getting a good look at your daughter. 
Even though she was a few hours old, you could tell that she was Sukuna’s daughter. You could only imagine what she would look like when she gets older.
“She looks just like you.” You mutter, a little upset that you carried her for so long and she came out looking like her father. 
“Of course she does. My genetics are strong.” “Hmm, we’ll see with the next baby.” 
Sukuna grins at your words, “the next baby? Already planning for another?” “Wait, wait,” you giggle while holding your hand up, “I don’t mean that just yet. I still have to heal.”  Sukuna hums, silently agreeing. “Next time, it’ll be a boy. I’ll make sure of it.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tagging: @lotuskassagi
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whateveriwant · 6 months
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Can you please do Task force 141 finding out they’re having quintuplets! I’d imagine that they wouldn’t plan to have that many….at least not all at once 🧍‍♀️
Ghost
When the technician points out the five distinct dots on the ultrasound, he immediately goes dead silent
I mean, he's always pretty quiet anyway, but this is like quiet quiet
He doesn't utter a single word for the rest of the appointment, nor on the ride back home for that matter
This has you more concerned than you care to admit because you know that, not that long ago, he didn't think he'd ever have (much less want) kids of his own some day
So now that he's learned he's about to have five? You can't imagine what's going through his mind right now
It isn't until you're walking through the front door that you're being stopped with a gentle hand tugging on your wrist
You turn to look at him and, without a word, he drops to his knees before you, rolling up the bottom of your shirt to expose your belly
He'll press the softest of kisses just beside your navel, before looking up at you with expressive eyes that convey the foremost thought in his head: Thank you
Soap
Nearly shits a brick the moment the words leave the technician's mouth
All the color swiftly drains from his face and he has to sit down before he keels over right in the middle of the office
It's not so much fear that has him going paper white but pure shock at hearing the unexpected (yet not unhappy) news
While you'd already discussed having a big family together one day, you didn't think you'd get it done in one fell swoop
However, maybe you should've seen it coming since you both come from families that have had multiples
The possibility of this happening was decently high, so in a way, you're not all that surprised by the revelation
Once he's composed himself and is a little less ghostly pale in the face, he's eagerly requesting the technician to print out an excessive number of copies of the ultrasound
Why? Well, he's gotta send them to everyone, of course! His family, your family, all the lads at work. Hell, maybe your neighbor Charlie would like one too. Better print several just in case
Gaz
"C– Come again?" He thinks he misheard the technician at first
However, even hearing it a second time, he has to stand up, round the bed, and get about an inch away from the monitor to confirm for himself
It's almost comical the way his eyes widen at the screen, darting around the black and white image like he can't comprehend what he's seeing
It'll take some coaxing to get him back in his seat, and as he does, you hear him mumbling to himself – something about nappies, never sleeping again, and *shudders* University
At some point, out of the corner of your eye, you see him messing with his hands
He's putting his palm in front of his own stomach then drawing it about a foot or two away, as if trying to visualize the size your belly is destined to grow
Even when you get back home, it's like reality hasn't fully hit him yet
It's not until you find him at 2am looking up double decker prams that you realize it's finally starting to sink in, and he's more than ready for the challenge ahead
Price
Seems awfully calm when the technician breaks the news to you two
Based on his reaction – a light smile and mere "Oh, that's wonderful" – you'd think he'd just been informed of the weather or something
To be honest, his reaction (or lack thereof) is a little disarming, but you don't comment on it until you're buckling up in the car, mentioning his seeming total lack of nerves about the future
He chuckles and jokes that he already has to look after three big kids at work. What's five little ones at home to compare?
Though you think you can see what he's getting at, his cool-headedness about it all still has you in a bit of a tizzy
Is he not even a little surprised by the news? After all, it's not every day that people fall pregnant with quintuplets
At your question, he smiles and leans to press a bristly kiss to the back of your hand. When he pulls back, he's smirking, giving you the smuggest look you've ever seen from a man
"Told you I've got strong swimmers, love"
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m00nlight-ramblings · 2 months
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Touch Me
Repulsed by touch due to years of trauma, Astarion now wears gloves in his every day life. But once he starts to adventure with you, he slowly starts to rebuild his trust in others, when one night, he can't bare to not touch you any longer.
Pairings: Astarion x fem reader
Warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, light discussion of trauma, swearing, fluff. 18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 4.5k
Requested: yes
A/N: Okay so I got carried away with this one lol. Happy to be back writing some good ole BG3 smut teehee. Graphic made by me, I don't give permission for my work (graphic or writing) to be shared without my consent.
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You hadn’t really noticed Astarion’s gloves before, for the first few days of adventuring. You figured that they were just for defense, to help keep his body safe in combat along the journey. You were also far too busy trying to figure out the whole tadpole-in-your-brain problem, along with the myriad of enemies seemingly popping out of nowhere, to be concerned with your camp companions’ fashion senses.
But one evening, when you were headed to the nearby creek to quickly wash yourself in a moment of calm, you stumbled upon a rock, covered in familiar looking clothing.
Astarion’s clothing.
His gloves laid on top of the bundle of clothes, the brown leather muted in the soft moonlight. You paused for a moment and turned to look out into the deep creek, and not even five feet away, Astarion stood.
You realized he was fully nude so you shrieked and turned around. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you were here!” You apologized profusely. You heard Astarion gasp behind you and the motion of water, feet padding over to the rock. Clothes started to shuffle and you heard Astarion murmur under his breath.
“…completely nude, as if my clothes on the rock weren’t a dead giveaway that I would be naked! Trying to bathe and have peace and quiet for one second this entire journey…”
“Look, I said I was sorry-” Without thinking you turned, but luckily Astarion was fully clothed, except for his gloves. He seemed more concerned with fixing his outfit than what you were saying, so you gently reached out to touch his wrist to get his attention. “I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t see anything, anyway-”
The second your fingers touched Astarion’s wrist, he shouted, ripping his arm back as if you had just shocked him.
“Don’t touch me!” He bellowed, his voice dark. It scared you for a moment and you stood absolutely still, silence hanging between you. Astarion didn’t even look at you, just down at his wrist, as if he had been burned.
“What…I’m sorry? Did something happen-”
“Just…don’t touch me,” His cool demeanor was back as he gracefully slid the gloves on, “Alright? Just…don’t.” He had finally looked up at you, his ruby eyes shimmering. His expression was unreadable, but you nodded slowly.
“Alright…I won’t.”
You stared at him for a bit longer, trying to understand what was going on in his head. Was it…fear? Rage? You weren’t quite sure…all you knew was that without meaning to, you had somehow crossed a boundary with Astarion, who was already like a vault.
Without another word, Astarion walked back to camp. You sighed heavily and eventually bathed, but the entire encounter was so odd that you didn’t quite know how to move forward with it.
The next morning, while the sun was still rising, Astarion found you by the campfire as you cooked your breakfast. Uncomfortably clearing his throat behind you, he seemed a bit sheepish. Wringing his wrists (clad in the gloves), he shifted the weight on his feet in his graceful, Astarion way.
“May I speak with you for a moment?” He asked. Nodding, you stood, wiping off your pants. Astarion stared at you for a minute, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. It was increasingly apparent that he didn’t know how to start the conversation, but you waited patiently, afraid you’d somehow set him off again.
“I…want to apologize for last night,” He eventually said, “The whole…situation…with my gloves, I mean. I…” He sighed, searching for words, “I have a hard time with touch. I have for a bit…because of my past with Cazador. When I woke up, thrown from that Nautiloid, I realized gloves made me feel better because I technically don’t have to touch someone when I…well, when I touch them. And since I was no longer under Cazador’s thumb, I snagged the first pair I could find off of…well…some poor dead body on the beach and it’s been better ever since.”
Taking in what he was saying, you nodded, staying quiet. “So…you wear gloves. Because you don’t like touch.”
“Quite frankly, I’m repulsed by touch,” He calmly replied, throwing a hand back, “200 years in a body that I had no control over will do that to you, I suppose.”
“Okay. That makes sense.” You said plainly, forking a piece of pork belly into your mouth.
Astarion tilted his head, confused. “It does?”
“Yes. I mean…I believe you, and everything.”
“You do.” He stated, but it sounded like more of a question, like he didn’t understand.
Shrugging, you nodded, “Cazador forced you to use your body against your will to do his tidings, and now that you have the ability to act for your own for the first time in a very long time, you realize that there are boundaries that make you feel more comfortable. It makes perfect sense.”
Astarion opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. “Well…look at you. Knowing so much about me.”
“That’s what friends are for,” You smiled and pat his shoulder gently, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I understand…and will be aware of it.” You go to walk away, but turn and look at Astarion, “I know what you’ve been through was unbelievably awful, so you don’t have to…but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone about it, I’m here for you.”
Astarion stood, frozen. He nodded so small that if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it.
“Thank you.” He eventually said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were locked on the ground. In a flash, he was striding towards his tent, his hands behind his back, as if the conversation never happened. Watching him walk to his tent, you shook his head.
You knew Astarion was full of secrets, but you weren’t quite sure how deep those secrets went.
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The following weeks had tore through your body harder than any training you had been through. Every night when you went to bed, it seemed like a body part you didn’t even know you had was aching.
Currently, you were a little way away from camp, leaning against a tree, trying to get any semblance of reprieve that you could. Your eyes were closed, but you were nowhere near sleep, as the crickets chirped around you.
“Darling?” Astarion’s voice called out gently. You waved your hand in the air so he could track you down.
“Over here.” You mumbled, your arm feeling like it was 600 pounds. You brought it back down to your side and sighed heavily. Suddenly, you smelled chicken. Opening your eyes slowly, you saw a plate of food in front of you. You followed the arm holding the food and saw that Astarion had knelt beside you, presenting the food.
“Dinner,” He spoke plainly, “Gale just finished cooking. I thought you could use some help since your ass was devilishly kicked by those goblins earlier today, so I brought dinner to you while you were resting.” He smirked as you took the plate of food, barking out a laugh.
“Funny that you just had to bring up the fact that I didn’t perform my best today.” You started to slowly bring the food to your mouth, the taste melting on your tongue. You moaned softly in pleasure – he never shut up, but gods, Gale cooked a good meal.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t perform my best, either.” Astarion sat beside you now, his back resting against the large tree. He sighed as well, leaning his head back.
In the past few weeks, ever since the evening you had accidentally touched his wrist, you two had become closer. You were the only one to know his secret, a vulnerable piece of the Astarion puzzle. He trusted you to keep his secrets safe, and you did – like you had said, that’s what friends were for.
You ate in a comfortable silence as Astarion stared up at the moon, his face gleaming in the soft glow. Though you two were friends, he was undeniably handsome – you found yourself looking at him longer than necessary, butterflies popping up in your stomach when he would come into your tent to just converse, or when he was next to you in battle. You didn’t know when it started to change, but slowly, your feelings had deepened, which scared the shit out of you. Even now, with no words exchanged, your head felt light as he sat beside you, his familiar scent comforting you.
“Beautiful moon out tonight.” Astarion commented softly. You murmured in agreement, placing the plate and fork next to you now that you were done eating.
“Were you able to hunt tonight?” You asked Astarion.
He chuckled, “Always looking out for me,” He spoke gently. He then turned to look at you, his face soft, “Yes. I did…earlier. Thank you for your concern.”
You laughed softly and shrugged, even though it took all of your effort. You closed your eyes again, “You know me. I need to make sure everyone eats, even if your version of eating is slurping up some boar blood somewhere-”
Suddenly, your hand felt like it was enveloped, and chilled to the bone. Your eyes sprung open and you looked down. Astarion was holding your hand in your lap.
Without his glove.
Your mouth parted in surprise as you looked at him in shock. “Astarion-”
“I know.” He interrupted, smiling proudly.
“You’re…holding my hand.”
“I know.”
“Without your glove!”
“I know.”
You smiled back at him. Both of you sat there in silence, smiling at each other like two goons. You didn’t know what to say, so you started to stutter.
“But…how? When? You’re…feeling-”
“Not with everyone,” He said, “But with you…it’s different. I went to bed last night, thinking about how I wanted to…feel you. Touch you. Really feel you…hold your hand. With mine. Skin on skin,” Suddenly, he turned sheepish and looked down, “I hope you don’t mind?”
“Mind?!” You sat on your heels, gripping his hand tighter, “Of course I don’t! I’m…excited for you! Proud of you! Hells, I-”
Suddenly, Astarion’s lips were on yours. Cold, but gentle – he pressed lightly and pulled away almost as fast. As he pulled away, he looked at you, his eyes uncertain.
“I hope…you didn’t mind that, either.”
A deep blush grew on your cheeks as you smiled and shook your head, “Definitely didn’t mind that.” Your voice was low, quiet. You knew this moment, though on the outside seemed so insignificant, was a monumental moment for Astarion.
He smirked and nodded, “Good. Because when I was thinking about how I wanted to hold your hand, I was also thinking about how I wanted to kiss you, as well.”
You leaned into him and kissed him, pressing your lips on his a little firmer than last time. Smiling, you pulled away slightly, “I like when you think like that.”
Astarion chuckled, his bare hand moving up the sleeve of your blouse, “Good to know. I’ll have to keep that mind next time I start thinking.”
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The Shadowlands had boasted not only the worst atmosphere you had ever experienced, but also the worst sounds to ever grace your ears. It seemed like every time you heard a bird squawk, or a bush rustle, you jumped 10 feet in the air. You were thankful that you had Astarion by your side at night, otherwise, you weren’t completely sure if you’d get any rest at all.
Your nights with Astarion could only be described as wholesome, for the most part. Though his gloves were now off in the presence of your tent – his comfortability of touching you without them pretty much 100% - he still couldn’t get past his history when it came to sex. The moaning in each other’s mouths as your tongues danced with each other only amplified how desperate you were for each other, but every time, it wasn’t right. And that was okay.
But gods, did you yearn for him in every way.
Astarion was currently holding you, as you read on your side. You could tell he was sneaking peeks at your book because every so often, there was a “humph” or gasp coming from his lips softly. And when you tried to turn the page too fast, Astarion would gently touch the corner of the book, preventing you from moving to the next page.
“I can let you borrow the book when I’m finished, you know.” You said, giggling in his arms. He smirked and kissed your neck, his breath hot in your ear.
“But isn’t this much more fun, darling?”
You dog-eared the page and put the book down, turning in Astarion’s arms so you were facing him. You gently placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him. Every time you touched him with skin-on-skin contact, you made sure he was comfortable. Astarion smiled and nodded, placing a peck on your forehead. Slowly, he kissed down your temple, to your cheek, and to your jawline. You sighed heavily, your arms wrapping around his neck. He hummed as he kissed along your jaw.
"Astarion..." You breathed. Your hands found their way into his hair, and when you started running your fingers through it, he moaned slightly.
Suddenly, gently, Astarion's cold hand had found it's way in between your legs, tentatively pressing against your clit through your underwear. You gasped at the sudden sensation, pulling back. Looking at him confused, he blushed slightly.
"I need you," He murmured quietly, brushing a lock of your hair back, "I need to feel you. All of you. I want to take you...desperately."
You smiled and slowly rolled your hips forward, towards his fingers. The pressure made you moan, and you tried your hardest to not roll your eyes back.
"Are you sure?"
Astarion nodded. His hand quickly pulled back and found it's way by his side, "But...I may...um..." His gaze followed where his gloves lay on the table near your bed. You followed his eyes, and looked at the gloves. You smiled and kissed him.
"Put them on."
"Are you sure? It's just that...well, I don't need them to touch you anymore, obviously, but when I think about making love, it can get overwhelming-"
"Astarion," You cut him off gently, staring into his eyes, "If you need to wear your gloves to feel comfortable making love to me, then you can wear 30,000 pairs at the same time. As long as you feel comfortable doing it," You kissed him quickly, "And can still take off my pants."
Astarion laughed and reached behind you, slipping the gloves on. His bashful look gave way to a smile, his eyes darkening in a way that you hadn't seen before. He enveloped you in a kiss, grabbing hold of your body around your waist.
"I am going to fuck you until you see stars." He grumbled, pressing his erection into you. Capturing your lips in a rough kiss, you moaned into it, the sudden portrayal of Astarion’s arousal sending heat to your belly. He gently guided you on your back as he straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Finally he leaned back, staring into your eyes.
He was truly a captivating sight - his fair, taught body seemed to glow in the light of your oil lamp. His eyes - usually a bright ruby - were now almost so dark they were onyx. He smiled at you, causing you to turn bashful under his gaze. You felt his hands make quick work of your pants, pushing them down to your ankles. You aided him by kicking them off your feet, your heart racing.
Was this finally happening - were you finally going to make love with Astarion? Your head swam as his gloved hands glided down your sides, taking in every inch of you. He shook his head, still smiling.
“You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.” He whispered, his eyes inching towards your (now soaking) center. Gracefully, he slid down the bed, not breaking eye contact with you. Achingly slow, he spread your legs. Settling on his belly, his head dipped to your core, his nose so close it tickled the hair that encased it.
“Astarion…” You murmured, your hand resting on his head. You watched him lick his lips before he lightly pressed his tongue to your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. You physically felt like your senses were on overdrive - every muscle was tightened, anxiously awaiting his touch.
“You can’t rush perfection, darling,” He purred, one of his fingers finding their way to your clit. He gently rubbed the finger over your bulge, teasing you, the leather of the gloves an icy contrast to your growing heat. “I’m going to savor this moment. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”
He was staring at you; a moment suspended in time. The only sound in the tent was your whimpers, trying to muffle it so the others didn’t hear you. Astarion’s signature smirk never left his mouth - he was the notorious tease, so why would he be any different in bed?
Suddenly, his tongue delved into you, immediately lapping up your juices, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Your hands found his head, desperate to grip anything in their path. Once you felt his hair you couldn’t help but give a tight tug, to which he groaned into your cunt, the vibrations driving you crazy.
“You like that, don’t you?” He teased, pulling back slightly to speak. He still smirked, his tongue softly darting back to your clit. You bit your lip and nodded, the only way you could currently respond without screaming in pleasure. He dove back in, sending waves of sensation through your body - the coil in your belly started to tighten as Astarion took your clit in his mouth, sucking gently.
Shifting your head to the side of the bed, you pressed your mouth into the pillow, yelping in pleasure. Suddenly, you felt the leather of Astarion’s glove grabbing your cheeks, forcing your head forward. When you opened your eyes you saw him hovering over you, body slightly raised from your pussy.
“Don’t,” He commanded, the other hand working circles on your clit, “I want everyone to hear. I want the whole world to hear how good I love you.”
“Astarion…” You whimpered, your voice trailing off as he was back in between your legs, licking you into another dimension. You did as you were told, your head lolling back on to the pillow so you were looking at the ceiling of your tent, your vision going fuzzy. Your orgasm was quickly approaching, your muscles so tight you felt like you had to jump out of your skin. You knew Astarion sensed it - he slipped one arm underneath you to give himself better leverage, and was now lapping at you roughly, hungrily.
“I-I…I’m going to come,” You breathed, your strength failing you to use your full voice. You looked down and saw Astarion smiling into your cunt, the vibrations on your clit causing your legs to shake around his head. He stared at you from his position, which was just the push your body needed to reach ecstasy.
Your orgasm washed over you as your back involuntarily arched, a hand gripping so hard on to Astarion’s head you’re surprised you didn’t hurt him. His voice was screamed from your lips - definitely heard by everyone in camp - and you couldn’t think of anything else as you saw stars. Your chest felt like it was on fire as you heaved, trying to get control of your breathing. Astarion lapped at you for a few moments more as you felt your orgasm, finally pulling back to give you a moment to breathe. He stood on his knees and wiped his mouth, the smirk never leaving his face.
“You taste incredible.” He said, slowly raising himself from the bed. He undid the strings of his pants and pulled them down, his erection popping out. Leaking with wetness already, you couldn’t help but stare - this was the first time you were fully seeing him naked, and you were in awe of his form. Just seeing him fully aroused was enough to get you going again, and once he crawled back on top of you, you immediately spread your legs for him. He kissed you, and the faint taste of yourself made you moan into the kiss - his tongue was sloppily dancing in your mouth, all sense of romantic etiquette out the window. He was needy, whimpering into the kiss.
You felt him align himself with your entrance and you pressed one of your hands to his cheek, causing him to look up. You smiled softly.
“Are you sure?” You asked gently, delicately cradling his trauma in your hands. Your heart was racing in your chest - out of all the lovers in the land, you couldn’t believe that Astarion had felt comfortable with only you.
He smiled and nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my entire life, darling. All 200 years of it,” You felt him adjust himself on top of you and he smiled, his eyes darkening again, “Now; stop being so nice so I can ravage you so good you can’t walk tomorrow.”
You both chuckled as he pressed himself into you, your laughter giving way to a low hiss as he immediately filled your aching entrance. Your pussy was begging for a break since you had just orgasmed mere moments ago, but the ache felt so good, you couldn’t help but moan. Astarion maintained eye contact with you, his mouth slightly parted, as he slowly began to rock into you, his hips falling into a rhythm.
“Gods, you are so fucking tight,” He spoke through gritted teeth, “Make my cock feel so good.”
Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead as he rocked quicker into you, his eyes falling heavy. You moved your hips upwards, gaining better leverage so he could go deeper. When he hit your spot, you both moaned in pleasure, and you gripped the sheets next to you.
“Astarion-” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You dug your nails into his back and pulled him closer to you, “Fuck! You make me feel so good!” Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you arched your back, “Harder, please!” You whined.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled in your ear, his words hot on your face, “You’d like me to fuck you ‘till we broke this bed, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” You gasped, digging your nails harder into his back, “Please, please - give it to me!”
Astarion started to slam his hips against yours, the wet sounds of skin filling the tent. With every thrust, he groaned, his face becoming slightly red. A gloved hand appeared around your neck, and he stared into your eyes. You smiled slightly and nodded, and only with your consent did he start to squeeze, holding you in place as he fucked you.
“Tell me you want it. Tell me how good I make you feel.”
“Hells, Astarion! You make me feel so good,” You screamed, both of your hands going to his around your neck, “Please, don’t ever stop fucking me.”
Your voice was a whine, desperate for sweet release of your impending orgasm. If your first one was intense, this one was indescribable - Astarion’s cock slammed into you in a rhythm he was slowly losing control of. He took his hand off of your throat and held on to your hips, trying to gain control of his thrusts as he closed in on his own orgasm.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours!” You screamed immediately, your hands wrapping around his neck again, “I’m yours! This pussy is yours - forever! I’m yours forever.”
Astarion smirked as he looked into your eyes, “Good girl.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. He bit down on your bottom lip hard and as he pulled away, he licked away the tiny bit of blood that had sprouted.
Suddenly, his expression changed as the trusts fell out of time. He became sloppy, his mouth open, his eyes closed. His climax was close, so you wrapped your legs around him, drawing his cock closer into your aching cunt. Slick with both of your juices, Astarion’s cock slid in and out of you, his head thrown back in ecstasy.
“Darling, I’m close,” He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, staring into yours, “You’re going to make me come.”
“Come for me,” You said bringing your hands to the sides of his face. Your own orgasm was close - you were sure that if you felt him spill inside of you, you would tip over the edge for the second time that night. You smiled, tears of pleasure threatening to fall from your eyes as your body was being pounded into the bed, “Fill me.”
Astarion rested his forehead on yours. With a loud moan of your name, his entire body tensed, his climax spilling into you. His gloved hands dug into the side of your hips and suddenly your orgasm appeared, washing over you all at once. You pressed your body into his, screaming his name, your bodies close enough to feel as one.
As your bodies spasmed together, you saw Astarion smile. He peppered a gently kiss onto your lips, a soft moan escaping into your mouth.
“My darling,” He whispered, his body still on top of you, “That was…divine.” He was out of breath, his voice ragged. As he slowly moved to your side, still inside of you, you nuzzled into his chest, trying to steady your own breathing.
“Thank you,” You whispered, sighing contently, “For trusting me enough to be able to do that with me.”
Astarion tutted and started to stroke your hair, “Thank you for being the person that you are…so that I can feel safe enough to trust you.” He looked down at you and kissed you.
Sleep crept upon both of you; and neither you nor Astarion made a move to clean up the sticky aftermath between both of your legs. As you drifted off to sleep, still naked in Astarion’s arms, he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You smiled contently - you could get used to this. It seemed the whole world was in your arms as you both held on tightly to one another, an unspoken bond between the two of you grown stronger.
Astarion slid his gloves off before he fell asleep.
---
A/N: I had a blast writing this one...please reblog if you liked it! Comments mean the world to me! :)
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randxmthxughts · 1 year
Text
Human Stuff - Neteyam x Human! Reader (afab)
summary: the one where a confused na’vi teenager tries to comfort his human friend while she’s on her period 
warnings: menstruation talk, feeding food
wc: 2.3k
a/n: can you tell that i’m on my period and this is all i want rn
also, neteyam not knowing about periods can be canon? i just read that na’vi are non-placental, so they most likely don’t menstruate like primates. eywa be looking out for her girlies lol. but what do i know
masterlist
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Neteyam walks into the science facility confidently, knowing every nook and cranny like the back of his hand. Growing up, he has spent countless hours here with his siblings, and especially lately, he has been here every other day. His eyes search for you through the glass windows of the labs where he knows he is not allowed to step a foot in, ears perked up for a sign of you, even though it’s awfully quiet. The facility is mostly empty, and he assumes that the rest of the group is probably in their avatar bodies, busy with research. But it’s you that he’s looking for. 
Ever since you arrived at Pandora, Neteyam liked you right away. Roughly translated, the two of you were close in age, and had similar humor. Your father was the team lead of entomologists, and since you weren’t an actual scientist like the rest of the group, you had a lot of spare time to spend with Neteyam, exploring the forests. Your weekly meet ups with him became so familiar, that when you don’t show up at your regular meeting spot, Neteyam has to come and fetch you himself.
So here he is, walking through the labs, wondering if you had forgotten about your plans and were out with the others. It takes him some courage to sneak his head into the sleeping area, where he knew humans slept. Neteyam also knew very well that he wasn’t allowed back there because he could accidentally knock over things with his massive frame but he just needs to check. And his gut feeling isn’t wrong. You are laying in your bed, your back turned to him, completely unaware of his presence. Neteyam takes notice of how little you look with your body curled into a ball. 
At first, he assumes you’re asleep. A small smile stretches his lips, as he sneaks up on you planning to scare you awake for abandoning your plans. But as he readies himself for the loud growl, a small whimper escapes from your lips.
Neteyam stops in his tracks, his ears perking up immediately at the sound. He thought he had imagined it, but that theory gets quickly disproven when he hears another whimper. Moving quickly, he rounds your bed to confirm his suspicions. You jerk up at the sight of his big frame looming over you.
“Neteyam, what the hell?” your heart starts racing. 
“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, sorry,” he slowly crouches down in front of your bed, with a guilty expression on his face.
You throw an annoyed look at him before wrapping your arms around your middle again, and pressing your face into the pillow. You don’t want him to see your face. Neteyam doesn’t move, watching you.
“Go away,” you mumble, hoping that for once he will just comply. 
“Did you forget about our plans?” he asks, ignoring your previous words, “Are you sleeping?”
“I am not sleeping,” you mutter angrily into the pillow.
Neteyam can’t quite put his finger on it but he knows that something strange is happening to you. Maybe it was the scent? Of course, he was used to your scent, he could sense you from a mile away because it always stood out to him. It wasn’t necessarily bad or good, it’s just the way he recognized you. But right now, for some reason, it was so intense, like somebody gathered it into a perfume bottle and sprayed it right into his nostrils. 
He instinctively sniffs the air, and you cringe out of embarrassment, wishing you were dead right at this moment. Stupid periods, stupid cramps, stupid human bodies. If only you were back home right now, indulging in comfort food and taking your usual painkillers that could soothe the pain. Whatever you had found in the lab's aid kit was clearly not strong enough, and you suspect that the pressure on Pandora is making it even worse.
Tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes as another painful cramp surges through your already sore muscles.
"Y/N, are you hurt?" Neteyam asks, attempting to turn you to your side so he can see your face. You grumble in annoyance, resisting his movements.
"Can you please just leave me alone?" you snap at him.
“But what about our plans?” Neteyam stares at you confused.
“I’m canceling them,” you huff, “I’m going through some human-stuff.”
It feels like your insides are being twisted and squeezed over and over again. You place a hand on your lower belly, hoping to suit the pain, but it only gets worse. Noticing the way your face grimaces, Neteyam stands up.
“You’re in pain,” he states, “I will go for Tsahik.”
“No!” you protest, “No Tsahik!”
“But you look unwell,” he hesitates, unsure of what to do.
“No Tsahik!” you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling another cramp, “It’s a human thing, the pain will pass soon.”
Something about Neteyam standing there and watching you, makes you feel embarrassed. You already felt weak in comparison to him, whenever you tried to keep up with his running through the forest or climbing trees. He loved teasing you about it, and you don’t need another reason for him to poke fun at you. Your hand clutches one of the pillows under your head, and you sit up to shoo him away.
“Go away, you’re not allowed to be here,” you threaten him, raising your pillow in the air.
Neteyam frowns, still not moving. Angry at his sudden stubbornness, you throw the pillow at him with as much force as you can.
“Go!” you shout at him again.
Neteyam easily dodges the pillow but finally backs away from your bed. He knows that when you get angry at him, it’s because you’re embarrassed about something. He just can’t grasp what this “human stuff” is and why is it making you so stressed. Neteyam thought he knew plenty about humans from his dad, but Jake had never mentioned anything like this.
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Neteyam is so confused on his way out of the facility that he barely notices Norm and almost bumps into him. Fortunately, Norm was in his avatar body and wasn't trampled by the teenage Na'vi. He chuckles at the way Neteyam doesn’t even stop to acknowledge him and keeps walking.
“You okay, kid?” Norm calls out after Neteyam, finally catching his attention.
“Norm, you’re one of the sky people,” Neteyam turns around. 
“I am,” Norm confirms with another chuckle, “Something bothering you?”
“Yeah… Can you tell me what is this ‘human stuff’ that you go through?”
Norm cocks his head, the question sounding so ridiculous, he assumes it’s a joke. But Neteyam looks serious.
“What ‘human stuff’?”
“I’m not sure but it looks like it is painful,” Neteyam shakes his head, “I just saw Y/N, and she was laying in her bed, and crying. It looked like something was hurting her, but she wouldn’t tell me what. Only said it was ‘human stuff’.”
“Maybe she’s just having a stomachache or something?” Norm shrugs.
“That’s what I thought. But when I wanted to get Tsahik for her, she got mad at me. Said that it will pass on its own.”
“I don’t know, man, I don’t understand women sometimes,” Norm replies, then a sudden realization hits him, “Ooooh…”
“What?” Neteyam’s ears perk up, “What is it?”
“I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but she might just be on her period.”
“Period?” it was an unfamiliar word.
“Yeah, women get it every month,” Norm explains but it only seems to confuse Neteyam further, “Okay, so I’m probably not the best person for this but sit down.”
After what seems like an hour passes, Neteyam gives up on the human biology lesson with Norm. He sort of gets the idea of menstruation but he can’t imagine what it feels like, no matter how hard he tries. All he gets from this conversation is that Y/N needs to rest to feel better, and that the food she craves can help ease the pain? He is an alien; he has no idea what she wants.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
“Y/N?” Neteyam’s soft voice catches your attention.
The medicine you took earlier finally seems to work, and you feel slightly better. You prop yourself up on your elbows and see Neteyam walk into the room. A few colorful plastic bags in his hands catch your attention; these were usually hidden away in the very back of the kitchen cabinets for special occasions. Your mouth salivates at the sight of the chips and the cookies. 
“Are you feeling better?” Neteyam asks, now crouching down next to your bed.
You nod, sitting up, feeling a little guilty for shooing him away earlier. 
“I stole these from the secret stash,” he grimaces, laying out the bags on your blanket.
“My father is going to kill you for this,” you chuckle, reaching for the chips.
Neteyam smiles softly, as he watches you open the bag and fetch a few chips into your mouth. With a loud crunch, you munch on those with a giddy smile, then offer him some. Without much hesitation, Neteyam opens his mouth widely, letting you feed him a handful. You can’t help but chuckle at his blissful reaction to the taste; it was always fun for you to introduce Neteyam to human snacks. Your father got mad at you sometimes for it but you liked sneaking some for Neteyam, just to see him try it out. The sweets seemed to be too intense for him, but he liked salty things. 
“Good?” you ask him. Neteyam hums, then opens his mouth again, signaling for more. 
You chuckle before feeding him another handful. Though a teenager, Neteyam still required much more feeding than you did. So if you had a couple of chips at a time, Neteyam had to have a triple to fill his mouth.
“How did you know to bring these?” you ask him, now reaching for the bag of cookies. 
From your previous tastings, you knew that Neteyam didn’t like chocolate chip cookies. Or anything with chocolate, to be fair. You did not hide your disappointment the first time he almost gagged at the chocolate kiss you gave him, offended by the way his eyes teared up.
“Norm told me that your favorite food can help,” he shrugged, watching you bite down on a cookie.
Your eyes closed in satisfaction as you chewed on it, savoring the taste that filled your mouth. You haven’t had those in a long time.
“Help with what?” you open your eyes again.
“Your human thing,” Neteyam gestures at your stomach.
“Did Norm tell you what it means?” 
You feel heat flush to your cheeks, when Neteyam nods his head. You’re not sure why but the thought of Neteyam knowing makes you feel a little embarrassed. Not because there was anything embarrassing about getting a period. You just couldn’t imagine how weird it might be for him to know that you were bleeding out right at this moment, and he could probably smell it.
“Do you want to cuddle?” his voice catches your attention again. Where did he get that from?
You gulp down nervously, confused at how nonchalant he is. Maybe it’s not a big deal to him? He probably just wants to be supportive.
“Cuddle? Like, with you?” you clarify.
“Who else?” Neteyam chuckles, standing up.
He doesn’t wait for your response, instead gently nudging you to move to the middle of your bed. He was too big for it, so instead of laying down next to you, Neteyam decides to act like your headboard. You watch in confusion, as he slings his left foot over the bed and sits down, pressing his back against the wall, and setting down pillows on his lap. 
“Come on,” Neteyam pats the pillows, encouraging you to lay down.
You hesitate for a second, before laying down, as Neteyam’s huge frame hangs over you. He smiles at how small you look, gently propping up the pillows under your head to make sure you’re comfortable.
“This is a little weird,” you sigh, looking up at his face. 
Neteyam only chuckles and grabs the bag of cookies. He takes one out and offers it to you, bringing it to your mouth. As you open up to take a bite, Neteyam suddenly moves it out of your reach. You huff.
"Please, do not choke," he warns, before finally letting you bite into the cookie.
Eventually, you find yourself sitting up, leaning against his chest. As you swallow the bite, Neteyam feeds you again, listening to the satisfied sounds you make. 
“Feel better about the human stuff?” he nudges your shoulder.
“Much better, thank you,” you turn a little to look at his face.
While you were spending a lot of time with him, you’ve never found yourself in such close proximity with him. It felt weird but comforting. Like he offered you some sort of protection, a shield. 
“Can I ask what it feels like?” Neteyam breaks the silence, “Norm was sweating trying to explain it to me.”
You laugh at the thought of Norm trying to explain human biology to him. Nestling against Neteyam's chest, you make yourself comfortable and start talking. You both enjoy the snacks he brought, and occasionally he comforts you by rubbing small circles on your shoulders and arms. As the evening wears on, you start to feel tired and eventually doze off in his arms.
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mrrharper · 23 days
Text
Mandatory PE Class
Markus walked through the university campus, his face clearly showing his annoyance at the situation he was going through. His school decided to "promote physical activity among the student body", and by "promote" they meant a mandatory Physical Education class every junior had to go through. And Marcus was not happy about it.
Marcus was an introvert - he didn't particularly enjoy parties, going to bars, or other typical college activities. He spent his time reading, researching and weightlifting. This might seem weird for a "nerd", but whenever Marcus put on his noise-canceling headphones and grabbed the bar with 100 or so pounds on it, he felt like he could finally relax.
But even though Marcus enjoyed going to the gym, he enjoyed it when he was there alone - no one with him, the amount of people in the gym at a minimum. These were the perfect conditions for him. This class would not be it. He would have to deal with God knows how many people, plus most likely some smart ass coach, who thinks he's the next Arnold Schwarzenegger.
The university gave him a choice of what he wanted to do during the class and Marcus chose weight training, hoping he would be left alone and allowed to just follow his usual routine without any interruptions.
Marcus arrived at the athletics department's building and after wandering through its corridors he found his way to Weight Room C09. He knocked and heard a booming voice invite him inside. He opened the door and walked into a smallish locker room, where a few guys were getting ready and another man, clearly older than the others, stood on the side and waited. That was probably the coach.
"Marcus, right?" the supposed coach walked up to Marcus. "I'm Assistant Coach Baker and I'll be leading your group this semester." He extended his hand and Marcus shook it reluctantly. He quickly turned around and began changing into his gym gear.
Once everyone was ready (and there weren't many people in Marcus' group - only 6 guys) the group led by Coach Baker moved to the weight room proper. Marcus wanted to walk up to Baker and ask him if he could just do his own routine, but before he had mustered up the courage to do this Baker began warming up and expected the rest to do the same. Marcus rolled his eyes and sighed, before joining the group.
The next hour passed slowly. Baker had the group do a fairly quick and lite set of exercises, lite for Marcus at least. After the class had ended everyone was getting out of their sweaty shirts in the locker room. Marcus put his gear in his backpack and as the rest of the students began leaving the room, he walked up to Coach Baker.
"Sir, could I make a certain request?" He asked, a bit shy.
"Oh, Marcus, yeah? I also wanna talk with you about something. But go on." He wanted to talk with Marcus about something? That didn't sound great. He stood silent for a moment.
"So..." Baker looked at Marcus, his eyebrow raised.
"Oh yeah. So... I was wondering... I, I go to the gym quite often, and have for a few years now... and so I thought... Would it be a problem if during these PE classes I... I just followed my usual routine and you, you just did what you have planned with the rest?"
Coach smiled as he listened. Marcus wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing.
"Well, Marcus, I'm glad you see the importance of exercise. But I don't want no divisions in my group, you understand. I want to work with all of you, show something to everyone. Although, because you asked, I'll be sure to adjust the exercises for your level." Marcus nodded, although he wasn't really happy with Baker's response. "And while we're talking, I wanted to ask you something - would you be interested in trying out for our football team?"
This took Marcus by surprise. The football team? Where did that idea come from? He was not about to join a group of brain dead jocks.
"What?" he simply asked, confused.
"Well, I have noticed your strength during our hour together. And I think you would do great on the gridiron." Baker put his hand on Marcus' shoulder. Marcus did not like that.
"Wel, uhm... thank you for the proposition, but... no, I'm, I don't think I would fit in."
"Are you sure? I could help you fit in just right." Baker grinned again.
"Yeah... I'm sure... Mr. Baker" Marcus stood there and avoided eye contact with the older man.
"Call me Coach" Baker laughed. "If you're sure... well, I ain't gonna force ya. Now go, I'll see you next week."
As Marcus left the building he sighed. This was going to be an exhausting semester.
Reality turned out weirder than he expected.
As the months progressed Marcus attended every PE class, his annoyance with Baker's refusal to just let him do what he wanted not strong enough to risk messing with his attendance. Baker meanwhile stuck to his word, and for the most part Marcus was doing what the rest of the group was doing.
Although... this wasn't the whole truth. Because even though Marcus wasn't allowed to do his own thing, while doing the exercises Baker would come up to him and ask him to change something about the movements, add more weight, do another variant of the exercise. So even though he was working with the group, he did get the chance to do way more challenging things.
Baker himself was weirdly invested, at least that's how it seemed to Marcus. He very much got into that role of the supportive coach, he stood next to Marcus, counted his reps, motivated him to "just push further". Marcus found that strange, but didn't want to get into any kind of argument with the coach, so he just went along with this.
As the semester came to an end Marcus also had to admit he got something out of these classes. The exercises Baker had him do were pushing his limits, and he did adjust his normal gym routine to include stuff he learnt from him As he looked in the mirror, standing in his room on the day of the last class before the end of the semester he had to admit he was bigger than 5 months prior.
The last class came and went pretty uneventfully. Marcus beat his PB on the bench by 10 pounds and after an hour he came back to the locker room sweaty and gross. Baker thanked all the guys for coming, asked them to continue going to the gym and said goodbye.
As Marcus got ready to leave the locker room Baker looked at him and said "See you at practice, 90" and went back to the weight room. Marcus had no idea what that meant, but the class was over so he just shrugged and left.
Marcus entered his dorm room and sat behind his desk. He had some work to do on a paper he wanted to submit next week. He opened his laptop and quickly got to work. After a while he needed something to drink so he stood up and walked up to his mini fridge. There he noticed a mug standing on top of it. It was a cup branded with the logo of the Lions, his university's football team.
This was weird, as Marcus did not recall ever getting any merchandise like that. Maybe someone left it here by mistake, Marcus didn't know. But it seemed it was the only clean mug he had, so he quickly poured soda into it and went back to his laptop.
He got into the flow of writing and research pretty quickly. Then, around half an hour later, he was surprised by a notification from some group chat. 10 unread messages from "jungle kingssss 💪". What the hell was that? Marcus was sure he never joined such a conversation. Maybe it was some new kind of scam.
The notifications just kept coming, and at one point instead of deleting it Marcus clicked on it and a chat window appeared.
nah bruh, ya slayed that bitch well dude - steroidss#96
dude concentrate ffs - big dog jake#7
stfu bros where the fuck is tron where ya need him - mike chief#53
hes jerkin of or meal preppin bro, ya know that - steroidss#96
Marcus looked at the chat, even though he had no idea what he was looking at. It seemed he somehow had access to a group chat of some random meatheads. Although the numbers from their nicknames were tickling something at the back of his head, somehow.
if hes jerkin his fat dick ill kick his fat ass, we have state to fuckin beat - big dog jake#7
State? What does it mean they have to beat-- oh yeah, the Lions' next game is against Ohio State.
Wait.
What does that we mean in "we have state to beat"?
How did he know the Lions' schedule?
Marcus felt his head spin a little. Was he sick? He looked at the screen again and suddenly a new message appeared.
am not fuckin jerkin off you piece of shit, got fuckin dumbass school to take care of you idiots - tron's big dick#90
Marcus looked down. His fingers were still touching the keys. HE WROTE THAT!
And that we... It meant the football team! Marcus was reading the football team's group conversation. How the fuck did this happen?!
dunno why i even bother wit any of your stupid fat asses you fuckin shits - tron's big dick#90
Marcus jumped out of the chair. He did it again! His fingers were betraying him. He shut the laptop down and opened the window. Maybe he had to breathe in some fresh air. Was he hallucinating? Was this some infection? What was happening to him?!
He sat on his bed and breathed in, then out. In and out, in and out. In and out. In and out-- was he drooling!? Marcus wiped the drool from his face. It was getting late and he decided it would be beneficial to go to bed early. He turned around to get to his bed only to notice a sweaty hoodie with badly cut-off sleeves. It had the Lions' logo on the front and the number 90 on the back.
This was not happening.
This was just a dream.
Marcus told himself that repeatedly as he got into his PJs. He checked if his laptop was turned off and laid on his bed. He could swear he could feel a faint smell of sweat and... cum? But this didn't stop him from quickly falling asleep.
Marcus was dragged out of sleep by his alarm clock. He slowly got his body into an upright position, then began going through his usual morning routine.
He made himself a protein shake with added creatine.
He ate the oatmeal and eggs he always had for breakfast.
He put on the sweaty shirt from two days ago. It was fine, no one would notice. And he looked hot in it anyways.
He sent a message on the group chat.
you bitches ready to get dominated n pushed into the grass by my fat dick - tron's big dick#90
He got his gear ready and put his duffel bag on his shoulder.
the faggot of the team has spoken everybody - hall/of/glory#38
Marcus walked through the campus. He let out a dumb chuckle as he read the message. Jalen was the best.
not everyone can slay pussy like tron, bitch - tron's big dick#90
He entered the building and walked towards the locker room-- Marcus suddenly stopped and looked around.
Where was he?
He didn't remember waking up.
He didn't remember dressing up.
He didn't remember coming here.
Where was he?
As he tried to understand what the fuck was going on Assistant Coach Baker appeared, walking through the corridor, coming towards him.
"You know why you're here, Marcus?"
"No!" Marcus shouted, surprising himself, but not Baker.
"As I thought. Follow me" the older man waved at him and Marcus instinctively followed his lead. They walked through the football wing of the athletics department until they reached a door. Locker Room L01.
They both entered - Baker first, Marcus second - and Coach pointed to an open locker. Marcus walked up to it and looked inside.
Jersey. Number 90. Schoeder. His name.
Shoulder pads.
Cleats.
Condoms.
Gym gear.
It all reeked of sweat.
So fuckin' musky.
Huhuhuhuh, a proper jock's smell, bro
bro
bruh
WHAT!?
Coach came up to Marcus and looked him in the eyes.
"Do you know why you're here, 90?"
Marcus opened his mouth and tried to answer. But no words came out.
Coach grinned and took a sweaty Under Armour shirt from his locker. He then put the shirt up to his nostrils.
Marcus automatically inhaled and a fog descended over his mind. He took a few more sniffs. So sweaty, so musky. A fuckin' football jock's smell. A stupid grin appeared on his face, drool began flowing from his mouth. Bruh, that was so fuckin' good bro.
"Sick bro..." Tron drawled and put his arms into a double bicep pose. Coach Baker just smiled and took back the shirt before throwing it into the locker.
"Now, 90, put on the gear. I've trained a new defensive end for 5 months. Let's see it it was worth the hassle." He patted Tron on the back before barking at him. "Main field in 2 minutes or you won't be able to walk for a week, 90!"
"Huhuhuhuh" Tron responded with a dumb chuckle. "Yeah, Coach. No worries, dude."
He then quickly got ready and ran out onto the field.
whos ready for a fuckin beatin - tron's big dick#90
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682 notes · View notes
lovelyhan · 1 year
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— favorite poison ⟢
pairing: wonwoo x reader
summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.
word count: 15.5k words
tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut
warnings: mentions of twitter porn, brief discussions of past trauma, slut shaming, mild violence (wonwoo punches someone in the face), graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)
notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! thank you so much for waiting so so patiently for this second part! big thank you to @playmetheclassics for proofreading this monster sequel for me >< i wouldn't have done this without you, indi UEUEUE
this is part of the game over series!
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smut tags: implied semi-public sex, game chair sex? jealousy, clothed sex, use of handcuffs, brief spanking, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, hard and soft dom wonwoo, creampie, cum eating, aftercare
svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @tommolex
wonwoo taglist: @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme
fic taglist: @appachicken - @bekah931215
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part one - part two - part three - part four
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“So when are you introducing me?” 
The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.
He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So listening to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t helping his case.
“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs. 
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
His best friend pouts, and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”
Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see. 
Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.
Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches on pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend) doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.
Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now? 
“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head. 
“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”
“Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”
“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him. 
“Why?” he asks with a scowl.
“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with, or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”
Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life. 
“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”
Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”
“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.” 
“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care, though.”
He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind. 
Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned. 
What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again, not five minutes later.
About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo had just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.
The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping. 
Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.
But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.
“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”
Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”
“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?” 
“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”
Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.
“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”
The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all. 
“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”
Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends, and 2.) he is not a cold person and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now. 
“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again, is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”
Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.
Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?
“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”
As Johnny exits, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence he left.
“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”
Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.
Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.
“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few head pats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”
Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.
“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now, take off your leggings before I tear a hole in them myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”
You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.
He’s fucking perfect.
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Right after that unplanned quickie, Wonwoo is at least keen enough to observe his surroundings as both of you discreetly part ways and sneak back into the convention. Since the main events were taking place on the other side of the venue, not a lot of people were milling around, and he thankfully manages to blend into the crowd without rousing everyone’s suspicion. 
Well, almost everyone.
“You’re a pretty shitty actor; you know that?”
Wonwoo doesn’t have to turn around to recognize the smugness in Seungcheol’s tone. The moment he lays his eyes on one of his closest friends—still wearing that silly Pikachu onesie and giving out his cherry cookies—he knows he can’t weasel himself out of this conversation so easily. 
“What do you mean?” Wonwoo says, deciding to play along to gauge what Seungcheol does and doesn’t know.
The older man scoffs. “Come on, Wonwoo-yah. You weren’t being very discreet when you pulled our very good cat girl friend into the restroom. Doesn’t help that you both came out looking dishevelled as fuck. So much for hating each other, huh?” 
Okay. He has nothing left to hide then. Great.
“Were we that obvious?” Wonwoo lowers his voice into a whisper, and the only reason he’s genuinely asking is because Seungcheol isn’t the type to joke around about these kinds of things.
“Only to the eyes of someone who personally knows the both of you,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
Wonwoo’s brows knit together, perplexed, but offers no more smart retorts. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought of having been seen with you. Fuck. He isn’t usually this careless. Then and there, he makes a mental note to not let his emotions pull the reins on his decisions next time.
“Thanks, hyung,” is all he tells Seungcheol in return. “I’m heading back. Uh, she was looking for you, by the way. Something about wanting more of your cookies.”
Seungcheol visibly perks up at the news, and Wonwoo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What is it with his friends and having some weird soft spot for you? 
As Wonwoo quietly slips back into his booth—greeting a bunch of his fans but not in a sociable mood—he recalls the prickle of heat in his chest when he saw how uncomfortable you were during that short conversation with Johnny. The memory makes his curiosity spike again, and he considers asking you about it the next time you invite him over.
But then he reminds himself that he does not have a soft spot for you unlike his friends. None at all. He’s just being a decent human being for having a modicum of concern because of how you reacted towards someone Wonwoo knows to be completely harmless. 
Aside  from the occasional NSFW spam on Twitter, Johnny’s pretty harmless, right?
“Hyung! Group pic, c’mon!” 
Wonwoo hears Mingyu call out to him several booths over and sighs. He probably shouldn’t put too much thought into something he won’t be able to figure out in the next five minutes anyway.
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The next time Wonwoo comes over to your apartment is to try out some new heart-shaped handcuffs you bought online. You wouldn’t stop gushing about it to him over text, and he has half the mind to just cuff you to the bed and leave because of how annoying you’re being.
But for some reason, the handcuffs lay forgotten on your unmade bed as Wonwoo sits right in front of your set-up—begrudgingly listening to your instructions as he attempts to solve an overworld puzzle in that stupid game you and Soonyoung kept pestering him to play. Genshin Impact, yeah, that’s the one. 
“You have to hit the purple towers with Electro attacks, idiot,” you sigh. “Dendro is for green towers. Hydro is for blue towers. Did you happen to skip kindergarten or something?”
“I thought elemental reactions applied to these, too,” he grumbles. “You’re the one who said that Dendro and Hydro are good with Electro.” 
“Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, color dunce.”
Normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t have taken the insult lying down, but he stubbornly chooses to solve the puzzle until he’s finally unlocked the hidden desert area you claimed to be ‘too lazy to figure out right away’. A hint of smugness crosses his features as he flashes you a triumphant grin. Wonwoo half-expects you to just roll your eyes and blame his progress on dumb luck or something, but to his surprise, you clap your hands gleefully before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
“Who’s my smart little gamer, huh?”
“Fuck off.”
It’s perfectly normal for him to hear you challenge his authority outside the bedroom. After all, you’ve made it your life’s mission to push all of Wonwoo’s buttons until he cracks and manhandles you in a way that leaves no room for your brattiness to slip out. Sometimes he likes to think that you rile him up on purpose because the so-called consequences end up rewarding you sexually tenfold instead. Which, Wonwoo thinks, is fucking sick, but from how much he lets you get away with it anyway, he figures that he’s got a few screws loose himself.
“Anyway, how about we check if you’ve got shit luck on gacha games or not,” you announce before nudging your customized gaming chair with your foot—the same one Wonwoo’s currently sitting on—so you can have better access to your mouse and keyboard. “Soonyoung’s luck is abysmal as hell. The only reason he’s got such a spiffy account is because of all those sponsors.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “Are you saying yours is any better?”
“Hey, I’ve got decent luck, mind you,” you huff before clicking a few times, and a new window pulls up on-screen, which Wonwoo recognizes as the wishing page. Soonyoung has shown it to him and the other guys enough times to remember what it looks like.
“Go on, just click the times ten button,” you urge him before tugging your gaming chair back to its original position. “It’s gonna let you wish for a character ten times, basically.”
“I know how gacha games work,” Wonwoo bites back.
“Of course you do,” you coo as he finally does a full summons.
He swears he’s going to edge you until you’re begging and crying later. It’s the least you could do for being such a pain in—
His vengeful thoughts are interrupted when you gasp out loud—eyes glued to the monitor as the shooting star glows like iridescent gold. Wonwoo doesn’t know shit about Genshin, but he’s pretty sure he just pulled a really rare character.
“I just pulled a five-star yesterday.” You scowl, staring at him disbelievingly. “How on earth—”
To your dismay, Wonwoo accidentally clicks on your mouse—ending the entire animation sequence a bit too early. But just when you’re about to berate him for being impatient, your jaw practically falls to the floor when you see all ten of your (technically Wonwoo’s) wish results.
He managed to bring home the featured five-star character five times. Five fucking times. Holy shit?
As you visibly freak out in your seat, bemoaning the fact that this legendary pull happened off-stream, Wonwoo stares at you bizarrely like he always does. You immediately take a screenshot, explaining that the probability of what just happened was several times less likely than you letting him fuck you while you’re livestreaming, but Wonwoo’s mind wanders a little right after that.
So…you would let him fuck you on stream, then? 
Not that it’s something he’s thought about before. Wonwoo likes the privacy your set-up affords him with, and he’s not about to jeopardize that with by committing such an inexplicable act of exhibitionism. But the mere picture it paints in his head is enough to make him swallow thickly. 
One of your stupidly short skirts bunched up to your waist. His hands kneading your breasts as he snaps his hips from behind you. All those pretty noises you make only for him now being heard by your incel-ridden fanbase. He bets they’d even like seeing their beloved Koyahngi get railed on-cam, but the thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only Wonwoo has had the privilege to makes his blood boil.
“Hm? You’ve gone quiet. What’s up?”
His eyes flicker over to your form—knees pressed against your chest underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing. You like to dress comfortably when you’re off-stream, which is understandable because even if you’re just sitting in front of a computer screen, doing so in full cosplay can be a huge hassle. He’s always wondered how you have it in you to put in all that effort for your viewers.
Curiosity lingers in your gaze when he prolongs the silence, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to answer—mind too preoccupied with a whirlwind of thoughts to articulate any sort of reply. 
He can excuse those horny assholes on Twitter—your main target audience for the filthier content you make on the side. They have no idea who it is they’re really jacking off to anyway. But if some lesser man deigns to even think he deserves to look at you—the real you—while you’re writhing in the throes of pleasure…
You let out an undignified yelp when Wonwoo abruptly pulls you onto his lap, awkwardly straddling him as he stares at you intensely through the lens of his glasses. He can vaguely hear you muttering something about impatient men under your breath, but Wonwoo knows your irritation with him holds little to no weight with how you fold your legs on either side of his hips so his large hands can have better access to your ass.
“This is what you invited me for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, giving your backside a squeeze that has you mewling in response. 
Wonwoo smirks. What a needy little thing.
You gulp. “Y-Yeah, but—”
“Strip.”
“Wonwoo, I’ve gotta post about the wish results!”
He stares at you, unimpressed, and lets his hands fall onto the arm rests of your gaming chair, making you whimper at the loss of his touch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The effect of his authoritative tone manifests all too quickly. You bite your lower lip as you tug on the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just to tease a sliver of skin underneath. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, fully cognizant of what you’re trying to do, but it seems that you know better than to piss him off even further. 
Your shirt falls to the floor and Wonwoo has to keep himself from groaning at the sight before him. It’s one thing for you to forego a bra, but panties, too?
“Do you like it, daddy?” 
Knowing you, the question is meant to taunt than anything else, but Wonwoo lets it pass anyway.
It always drives him mad, how subtle you are whenever you want to get a rise out of him. The way you roll your hips into Wonwoo’s has a tantalizing feel to it and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping. He’ll play your games and drag this on for as long as he has to. Because he’s been with you long enough to know how much you love it when Wonwoo lets you have an illusion of authority for a sliver of a second, only to bully you into submission right after. 
“Fuck,” you whisper the moment the outline of his erection grazes your bare pussy. “Missed your cock so much… It’s been a while since I’ve had you inside me.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”
“How was I supposed to know these conventions were scheduled one after the other?” You pout before grinding deliciously against his cock once again. He can practically feel how wet you are through his sweats and it doesn’t help that each forward motion brings your perky breasts closer to his face.
Wonwoo lets out another sigh as he wraps an arm around your waist before leaning down to latch his lips onto one of your nipples. You quickly jolt in response—not expecting him to indulge you with pleasure so quickly—but his actions spur you on. As his tongue expertly flicks across your sensitive bud, you quickly haul his aching cock out of the confines of his sweats, grinding your slit across his thick girth. 
You’re convinced that this is enough to get you off. Though you’ve memorized how the bulging veins on Wonwoo’s cock feels like inside you, having each ridge graze across your clit prickles the back of your head with newfound pleasure. A growl reverberates in his chest as you expertly slide your pussy along his dick, and you brace your hands on his broad shoulders to anchor yourself.
“Daddy,” you whine. “Can I? Please? Want it so bad.”
The words are punctuated with a pained moan when Wonwoo’s mouth trails higher before biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your cunt momentarily pulses from his aggression, and he gladly guides your hips as you rub yourself all over his cock.
“My good little whore, always asking permission first,” he chuckles. “Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”
Wonwoo lifts you off his lap for a moment, earning himself a whine in protest, but when you realize he’s going to take off his sweats, you practically salivate once his strong thighs ease back onto your gaming chair. You don’t bother catching his gaze for an implicit confirmation. You simply sink down on his cock like you’ve been craving for days. 
A choked out moan gets caught in the back of your throat when he fills you to the brim—making your brain go blank for a moment before you remember to start doing as he asked. Wonwoo watches you through an intense, hooded gaze. The only indication that he’s even feeling remotely good is the way his fingers grip the arm rests tighter whenever your walls clench around him every now and again.
Despite the pure, unadulterated bliss that surges through you every time you’re mounted on Wonwoo’s length, it pisses you off how put-together he typically looks like when you’re on top.
You want to see him just as depraved as you are—panting and thrusting into you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you deep enough. But you can never get Wonwoo to handle you the way you want to be handled when you’re riding him like this. As much as you like seeing those sharp eyes watching your every move, the only way he’ll truly fuck you like you deserve is…
Wonwoo’s brows are quick to furrow once you promptly lift yourself off his lap—length slipping out of your pussy as you make your way towards the bed. However, when you spread yourself out on the mattress face down, ass up, it definitely sparks his interest.
And like a cherry on top, you place those heart-shaped handcuffs of yours on the swell of your ass, almost like you’re inviting him to play with you.
The next thing he knows, the worn out threads of his self-control have snapped. He’s behind you not a moment later—hissing through his teeth as he throws his shirt somewhere on the floor. 
You moan when Wonwoo continues grinding his cock against your ass while he yanks both of your wrists behind you. The cold bite of the handcuffs alerts you to what you’ve allowed him to do, and when the lock clicks in place, you stifle a shuddering sigh into the sheets.
Suddenly, his breath is right next to your ear. “Where’s the key for this thing?” 
You feel Wonwoo tug against the fake metal to test for sturdiness, and you feel your chest warm at his discretion. Though he’s, by no means, soft with you, he always takes the time to check if you’re comfortable with what you’re about to do together—no matter how subtle.
“On the nightstand,” you tell him all while pushing your ass back to meet his shallow thrusts. “You can go wild with the cuffs, daddy. They’re high quality for a reason.”
A low, devilish laugh escapes him. 
“Be careful what you wish for, slut.”
He’s merciless with the way he slides his length back into your sopping hole, one hand pushing the back of your head further into the mattress as the other yanks at the chain link of the handcuffs. Each powerful stroke sends you forward on the bed, and his name tumbles in broken syllables from your mouth as he fucks the shape of his cock into you.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he growls before snapping his hips with a particularly punishing thrust. “We’ve barely even started and I’ve already fucked you stupid? Are you so hungry for cock that you’ve already forgotten who I am?” 
“I-I’m sorry, daddy!” you whimper as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Just feels s-so fucking good. Love your cock so much!” 
“Yeah?” Wonwoo lets out a patronizing laugh before tugging on the handcuffs again—putting a delicious strain on your arms that amplifies your pleasure in some twisted way. “When you were out there dolling yourself up for conventions, did you think about my cock? Did you want me to fill you with my cum in the restroom again? You really fucking liked it when I did that to your Sage cosplay, didn’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble as tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Want to get split open on your cock forever, daddy! Want your cum dripping down my thighs when there’s tons of people around—ah!” 
The sharp sound of one of Wonwoo’s palms colliding with the meat of your ass rings in your ears, and it leaves a pleasurable sting sizzling across your flesh. You can’t help the surge of pride that fills you as Wonwoo moans out loud the moment your pussy clenched around him in surprise.
“Dirty fucking cockslut,” he rasps. “You just love it when you’re being filthy for everyone to see.”
For a moment, you’re liberated from the steady burn your arms have been sustaining in such a complex position. Wonwoo surrenders his grip on the handcuffs—letting your bound wrists fall uselessly atop the small of your back. His cock doesn’t quite slip out of you, but you feel him move around from behind. You crane your neck to see what he’s up to, but when you see him angling his phone in a shot that would definitely make for good content to post later, you feel your arousal spark tenfold.
“Now be a good fucking girl for daddy, and let him show everyone how filthy you are.”
The moment the telltale sound of the record button being pressed hits your ears, Wonwoo reclaims his grip on your dainty handcuffs before resuming his ministrations. You let out a long-winded moan as you meet his powerful thrusts, hands instinctively straining against your restraints out of the need to rub your throbbing clit for faster release, but you know it’s a futile effort.
Behind you, Wonwoo is practically losing his mind over the sight of your creamy essence coating his cock with each slide of his hips. You’re extra responsive with the handcuffs as expected. You’ve always had a thing for switching things up in the bedroom, but you’re clenching around him even tighter than usual. 
He tells himself to just film a few seconds of you getting railed with your heart-shaped handcuffs adding more spice into the mix. Then he can truly have his way with you. 
When he’s satisfied, Wonwoo quickly discards his phone on your bed—eyes darting towards your nightstand before he spots what he’s looking for. Another needy whine reverberates in the air when his cock slips out of you so he can walk over to retrieve it. 
Like the good whore you are, you don’t even move an inch. You patiently wait for Wonwoo to return and fill you up again even if the fact that he’s making you wait in the first place makes you want to be a brat. But when you feel the handcuffs fall away from your wrists after he unlocks them, you whip your head around to flash him a startled look. 
Wonwoo tosses your newest toy away with little concern for their well-being before grabbing your face—crushing your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.
“Mine,” he growls before manhandling you so that you’re laying on your back. “This slutty fucking pussy belongs to me, got that?”
You nod, moaning as he presses his tongue deep into your mouth. You would say yours in return, but you’re blindsided by the way Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders—plunging his fat dick back into the velvet heat of your cunt.
As he whispers the filthiest things into your ear, you figure that Wonwoo must have been just as pent up as you are. The consistency of his thrusts is starting to falter—sharp, calculated thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up to him. 
With your hands free, you’re able to reach between your thighs in a feeble attempt at finding your clit. However, when Wonwoo catches wind of what you’re trying to do, he slaps your hand away—eyes boring into you with so much angry disappointment, you would’ve cried and begged for his forgiveness right then and there.
“Come on my cock or don’t come at all, whore,” he warns. “I’m already generous enough to have you writhing on my dick, and you can’t even be grateful about that?”
“I am, daddy!” You insist, tears threatening to spill again as you lace your arms around his neck. “You’re hitting me so deep. I’m g-gonna come soon, please—”
“Does my pretty cockslut want me to come inside her?” Wonwoo whispers before pressing your knees against your breasts. “Does she want me to fill her slutty pussy with my cum?”
“I want it, daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you beg as you desperately tug him down for a kiss. 
Normally, Wonwoo would’ve denied you simply because he can, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But for some reason, he lets himself fall into you—lips latching onto yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. 
It seems like the kiss is what catalyzes your release, and Wonwoo groans into your mouth when he feels your walls clamp down on his cock—desperately milking him for his cum. He isn’t too far behind. All it takes is a few more pistons of his hips before he stills inside you. 
The sensation of being filled with his hot cum makes you pull away from his lips as another long-winded moan sings in his ears. Wonwoo’s shudders from the aftermath of his release, all while slowly fucking his emission deeper into your cunt. From the satisfied purr that escapes you, he thinks you like it just as much as he does.
Wonwoo really didn’t plan on staying over. Really, he didn’t. But the way you tug him back down on the mattress right after he’s finished cleaning you up makes him a bit too hyper-aware of his own aching muscles—both from this morning’s weight training and the several rounds he just shared with you. So he lets you snuggle closer to his clothed chest, the warmth from both of your bodies permeating into each other. He’s never felt more toasty beneath a comforter than he does now.
“This is nice,” you tell him quietly. “I wonder if people will like it if I posted videos of us just cuddling.”
Wonwoo laughs, thumbs absentmindedly caressing the red marks left by your handcuffs. “Doubt it.”
Your silly lo-fi music still plays from your computer's speakers , but neither of you could be assed to get up and turn it off. Wonwoo wouldn’t call himself a professional cuddler—you two have only cuddled a total of three times since you started fucking around, and you often complained about how stiff he always is—but from how comfortably your limbs slot into his, he supposes that he’s doing an okay job.
There’s a hint of intimacy charging the air, one that’s leagues different from the carnal lust that clouds his brain every time he fucks you. His chest twists with each passing moment, and Wonwoo makes the mistake of flickering his eyes on your half-asleep form pressed against him. 
It’s been months since you and him started fooling around, but he knows perfectly well that he isn’t the first to have seen you so vulnerable . While he usually doesn’t give a shit about that, and Wonwoo knows the topic is quite sensitive from the little tells he could pick up on for the past few months…
“Can I ask about your old dom?”
Wonwoo can practically feel you stiffen against his touch, which is one of the main reasons why he hasn’t once tried to broach the topic in the past. Even if you could be a nuisance ninety percent of the time, he isn’t a fan of making people uncomfortable on purpose. He’s about to follow his inquiry up with the reassurance that it isn’t a big deal, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—
You squirm away from his embrace, and Wonwoo lets you, albeit hesitantly. His shoulders relax when he realizes you’re just repositioning yourself so that you can face him directly, chewing the inside of your cheek like you don’t have the words just yet. 
“He was…mean,” you whisper, forcing Wonwoo to wrap his arms around you once again. “Even meaner than you are. You’re at least a semi-decent person outside the domspace, but that guy? Piece of shit for real.”
Wonwoo nods. “But you don’t really care about that, do you?”
“Yeah. I can look past him being the meanest dom on the face of the earth. As long as he could satisfy me sexually, then we’re all good.”
“So…what made you part ways?”
Your gaze drifts to Wonwoo for a moment. He looks a lot different when his face isn’t bathed in the deep red of your mood lights. His hair is tousled, eyes squinting a little even if you aren’t that far away from him. And the earnest tone in his voice as he posits the question is something you could get used to hearing every now and again.
“Well, I don’t really do relationships, you know that right?” you say and Wonwoo nods. “My old dom didn’t get that though. He was really possessive of me even outside of our sessions together. It got to a point where he would get really…physical with me just to get the point across.”
Silence dips between the both of you—white noise ringing so loud in Wonwoo’s head, he can barely hear your shitty lo-fi playlist anymore. He’s always had a thing for making you cry during sex, but that’s all it is—some dacryphilia play to scratch both of your kinks. No matter how infuriating you are, he can’t imagine himself ever hurting you outside a pleasurable, sexual context.
Then he remembers the first time you invited him over to film some clips. How you stared at him as he cleaned you up like you aren’t used to the aftercare. Like you aren’t used to being treated delicately.
Is that because of your old shitty dom?
“He’s a fucking asshole,” Wonwoo grumbles before pressing your body closer to his. 
You chuckle. “He is. I’m glad I got out of that before things got even uglier.”
“How’d you even get rid of him?”
“Eh, it’s nothing a little blackmail won’t fix.”
Wonwoo’s brow arches at your response. You’re such an evil little minx, it’s actually admirable.
A little later, the conversation about your previous sexual partners fades away, and you’re back to tracing weird shapes on Wonwoo’s chest for him to guess. He spends half the time convincing you to just shut up and go to sleep, but he finds himself indulging you in your silly whims regardless. 
“Wonwoo, you’re a pretty great fuck buddy, you know that?”
He hums. “Why is that?”
“‘Cause you never go overboard with the stuff you do to me,” you say, eyes drifting away from his as you list off the reasons off your fingers. “You always let me annoy the shit out of you without getting pissed for real. You’re good at keeping secrets, too. Oh, and I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type, which is exactly my type.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “If I become someone that isn’t your type, would that get you off my back?”
“I doubt that would ever happen,” you giggle.
For some reason, part of him wishes for the same thing.
But you don’t have to know about that.
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On the morning of Soonyoung’s birthday, Wonwoo wakes up irritated.
He had a dream about you—one where you stopped being fuck buddies with him because you wanted to try things out again with your old dom. Someone that Wonwoo doesn’t even know, not even by name. Yet the rage that dream-Wonwoo felt upon seeing you hand-in-hand with some faceless punk as you both left him in the dust is almost too lifelike to ignore. 
So, he does something stupid.
He pulls up his phone—ignoring every message asking if he’s going to show up for Soonyoung’s party later—and pulls up his Twitter app. He doesn’t spend much time there, even if he is co-managing your super secret porn account. In fact, he eventually muted the notifs for that too, when the appeal of having your illicit acts shared to the unknowing public finally fizzled out. 
But he doesn’t log in to check the notifications you’ve amassed, as well as the pathetic DMs asking where your location was so they could fly in to fuck you themselves. No, Wonwoo scrolls past all the content you’ve made with him to unearth things best left in the past.
Like the videos he films with his own camera, the ones you made with your old dom are more than discreet—despite the hyper-possessive tendencies you’ve mentioned. There’s absolutely nothing to be gleaned about his identity, and Wonwoo is left wondering how stupid he’s being for wanting to know who it was that made you feel good before he came into the picture.
Why does it matter anyway, right? 
Even if you did hypothetically leave him to fuck around with your old shitty dom—or anyone else for the matter—why would it matter to Wonwoo? The two of you aren’t even friends. And if you had some other person to bother, that would mean less shit for him to deal with.
But why does the thought of letting someone else have you fill him with so much vitriol that Wonwoo nearly melts his cereal bowl with his glare alone when he comes out for breakfast?
“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out from the seat adjacent to his, rightfully concerned. “You okay? I can always grab a new brand if you hate this one so much.”
The taut muscles on his face soften at the sulking tone to Mingyu’s voice. “Oh, uh. Sorry. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”
“Of your girlfriend?”
“...Of how I’m going to break your PS5 if you don’t cut it out with that girlfriend shit.”
Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, I paid good money for that! But fine, I won’t pester you anymore if you’re so intent on keeping her a secret from the world.”
A secret… That’s right. 
What you and Wonwoo have is something that not even his best friend is completely aware of. Sure, Mingyu’s roommate-senses have been tingling for weeks, but Wonwoo knows that he will never really know the full story unless either you or Wonwoo let him in on the secret. 
Which will probably never happen if the two of you want to keep your careers, of course.
“Anyway, the rest of the guys are asking if you’re coming to Soonyoung’s party,” Mingyu says in an attempt to divert the conversation, thank god. “Everyone else has already replied except for you.”
“Who else is invited again?”
“Uh, our usual group, Koyahngi, and I dunno, a bunch of other streamers we know. I think some of Soonyoung’s high school friends are gonna show up as a surprise, though, but that’s just what Jihoon told me.”
Wonwoo considers the information at hand for a moment. 
He doesn’t mind mingling with fellow streamers and probably some of Soonyoung’s other friends, but the last time he’s seen you specifically is the day he bit the bullet and asked about your old dom. A conversation which ended on a pretty agreeable note despite the obvious unease on your face when Wonwoo opened the topic.
The fact that you haven’t texted him since is a little worrisome, too. It’s been about two weeks since that happened, and Wonwoo is beginning to wonder if he unknowingly hit a nerve and this is your way of sending him a message. 
He would’ve taken the initiative and checked up on you during your first week of radio silence, but when he catches you doing pretty fine on your latest streams and when he gets roped into some partnership talks with an entertainment agency that wants to recruit him, Wonwoo decides to put it off for later. 
Besides, the two of you are grown adults—so are the rest of your thirsty audience on Twitter. They can survive two weeks without content.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” he tells Mingyu about five minutes later when he’s already putting away the dishes. “What time are we leaving?”
“Uh, the party starts at seven. Do we go early or fashionably late?”
“Early.”
“Of course. Gotta put the senior citizen to bed early.”
“Mingyu?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
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🐈‍⬛: Are you coming to Soonyoung’s party tonight?
🐈‍: yea, i just need to sort some stuff out
🐈‍⬛: Wow
🐈‍: ?
🐈‍⬛: I just didn’t think you’d reply
🐈‍: is daddy gonna punish me for ignoring him for so long &lt;3
🐈‍⬛: I’m being serious
🐈‍: well, so am i
🐈‍: anyway, tell soonie i’ll be there soon
🐈‍: i’m just talking to someone
🐈‍⬛: Okay
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Wonwoo has been hanging out with his friends long enough to know that only a select few can really handle their liquor. It doesn’t help that today’s celebrant is the worst lightweight of them all. It’s barely thirty minutes past eight, and Soonyoung is already screaming profanities on one of the tables—using an unopened bottle of absinthe that Seungcheol gifted him with as a makeshift microphone as he belts out trashy lyrics from songs Wonwoo vaguely recognizes.
Mingyu films the entire thing on his phone, stifling his laughter while sipping on his own drink. Wonwoo can only roll his eyes at his best friend’s tolerant behavior.
At around nine, Jeonghan and Joshua arrive at the scene with a tiger-themed cake in tow, and half the friend group has to physically restrain Soonyoung just so the birthday boy could blow out his fucking candles properly. After criticizing the baker’s work (“The eyes are uneven! Tiger eyes are perfectly symmetrical!), Jeonghan rounds up the other guests to sing a loud Happy Birthday just to get Soonyoung to finally shut up. When the song comes to a close, though, Seokmin giggles a little too conspiratorially before dunking Soonyoung’s face into the cake.
It’s gatherings like this—no matter how rowdy and unacceptably loud—that make Wonwoo stick around. He might not look the part, but he loves it when he sees his friends be themselves outside of their streamer personas. It’s like high school and college all over again. 
But when the clock on his phone reads ten-thirty, and he realizes you’re still not at the venue, Wonwoo considers shooting you another text asking where you were. It’s an idea he quickly shoots down the next second because first of all, you’re not even friends. It’d be weird if he just asked out of nowhere. 
He supposes he could use wanting a quick fuck as an excuse to get some intel on your whereabouts. But the thought of lying to you doesn’t sit right with Wonwoo for some goddamn reason. 
When Mingyu offers him a drink, he half-considers taking it just to get his mind off you. He’s pretty sure his roommate has picked up on his distracted behavior, and is only attempting to soothe him somewhat with some beer. But Wonwoo reminds him that he’s one of tonight’s designated drivers and decides to pass.
Everyone in attendance is in the middle of a game of truth or dare when Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. He’s quick to excuse himself when he sees who it’s from and what message was left for him to read.
🐈‍: help me. please.
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Thankfully, you had the foresight to send him your location after shooting him that cryptic text, and Wonwoo is glad to find that you’re just a few blocks away. Still, he decides to take his car since the weather decided to be a bitch, sending in an unexpected downpour in the middle of summer.
He pulls over in front of a closed bookshop once he’s sure you’re in the area—looking around for any signs of you. The streets are deserted, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out what could have possibly brought you to this place at this hour. Why didn’t you just head straight to Soonyoung’s party? 
And why did you call him for help?
Through the rain and the poor lighting, he finally spots you—standing underneath the canopy of a waiting shed next to a man whose back is turned to Wonwoo.
He doesn’t think twice. He just gets out of his car and runs in the rain—chest warming at the sight of your downcast face perking up at the sight of him. Wonwoo would’ve let himself be glad that you're safe and sound, if only your current company didn’t turn around and reveal his identity.
From the looks of it, you seemed to be having a pretty heated conversation before his arrival. Johnny was obviously annoyed when he turned to look at him, but the expression fell away when he realized the newcomer was Wonwoo. 
However, a sinister smile takes its place not a few seconds later.
“Huh, no wonder you were so quick to replace me, doll,” Johnny laughs insincerely, sharp eyes trained on Wonwoo as he stares the younger streamer up and down. “It’s him, huh?”
“This has nothing to fucking do with you, Johnny,” you grit out, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way your voice nearly cracks. “Can you just leave me alone? You don’t need me when you’ve got a bunch of other girls who want to suck your dick, right?”
Wonwoo observes the exchange with a stoic face that doesn’t betray his surprise. It doesn’t take a lot to realize at that moment that Johnny is most definitely the asshole dom whose face he wanted to pummel into the ground when he found out what he did to you. But the things he does know about Johnny and the things he’s just now finding out makes a storm brew inside of his head—unable to separate what’s fact from fiction.
Johnny’s a nice guy. Wonwoo knows this very well. But then again, he’s also the same person who blatantly likes Twitter porn on his official account, so where does that leave him?
“I guess you’re right, but your pussy’s a perfect fit,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t help but want to hit that again and again, right Wonwoo?”
He stares down at him hard. “Don’t talk about her like she’s just some thing you can play with.”
“Oh? No wonder those new vids of yours have been extra livelier. Your new boytoy is a big old softie, huh?” Another mirthless laugh echoes in the empty streets, and Wonwoo feels his own body heat up with rage amidst the cold rain. “I never would’ve imagined it was Wonwoo, of all people, though. That really is a magic pussy you’ve got there, doll. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out you’re fucking his twelve other friends, too. Fucking whore—”
Before Johnny could get another word out, Wonwoo’s fist had already collided with the side of his face—knocking the older man to the ground with a disgruntled sound. He can vaguely hear you calling his name in shock, pulling him back with your little hands as Wonwoo stares down at a person he used to look up to.
“Call her that one more fucking time,” he rasps—eyes alight with anger, “and I’ll make sure it’s not just a busted eye you’re leaving with tonight.”
“Wonwoo,” you plead, tugging on his arm. “Please. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” 
Johnny still has it in him to bark out another laugh, spitting out some blood from his mouth and onto the pavement. “Running away again, princess? That’s what you’ve always been good at anyway.”
When Wonwoo moves to lunge at him again, you lace your fingers with his. For some reason, it makes him falter. Wonwoo stares at where your hands are adjoined, then looks into your eyes—glistening with tears as you beg him to stop.
Sending Johnny one last threatening glare, Wonwoo tightens his grip on your delicate fingers before leading you back to his car.
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Wonwoo doesn’t return to the party.
Instead, he shoots Mingyu a quick ‘something came up’ text, and that he won’t be able to play designated driver for the night. His best friend responds in kind, saying he should have fun with his girlfriend and just take a cab home. On normal days, he would’ve given Mingyu another unsolicited threat, but tonight, he’s focused on something else.
You’ve been quiet the entire time Wonwoo has been driving, hands placed on top of your lap as you gazed at the lights flashing by in a blur of colors and raindrops pouring down the window. He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he figures that it’ll do you some good to have some time to mull over everything that happened. 
But when the silence gets too overbearing even for him, Wonwoo asks:
“What do you usually do when you’re upset?”
You turn your head slowly, red eyes shining even in the dark. Wiping the tears away, you say, “Buy a tub of ice cream and stargaze at the rooftop of my apartment building. That’s kinda impossible right now, though, since…”
Yeah. It was still raining. Fuck.
“Well,” Wonwoo starts, “we can still get some ice cream if you’re up for it. I know a supermarket that’s open twenty four-seven.” 
You don’t reply, simply letting your gaze drift back to the window, and Wonwoo takes that as an affirmative. 
The two of you sit in the silence so deafening, it unsettles even Wonwoo the silence connoisseur himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this kind of situation. Should he offer you some verbal comfort? Should he promise to deal with Johnny if he comes after you again?
In the end, Wonwoo chooses to preserve the quiet—thinking it’s what you need most right now.
He pulls into the supermarket’s parking lot in ten minutes. He’s about to tell you that he won’t take long—glancing around at the backseat to check if Mingyu left his umbrella there. But before he can even get a word out, you’ve already leaned across the center console, grabbing Wonwoo’s face with both hands before smashing your lips together. 
Wonwoo grunts, grabbing your shoulders as he gently pries you off him. “Hey—”
You don’t listen. Instead, you climb on top of his lap despite the limited space. He knows that the steering wheel digging into your back can’t be comfortable at all, so despite himself, Wonwoo pushes the driver’s seat all the way back. But then you choose to do something he doesn’t expect at all.
With the newfound legroom, you sink to the floor—puffy eyes looking up at him as you work on the buckle of his belt. Wonwoo gives you a stare that’s two parts disapproving and one part curious. In the end, he does nothing about it when you undo his jeans and take his cock in the warmth of your hand.
When it comes to you, it doesn’t take a lot to get him hard. The need to please shines in your eyes as you give him possibly one of the best handjobs in his life. You’re not even uttering a single sound, but your titillating gaze sends all the blood in his system straight to his dick.
Your mouth is on him the next thing he knows—giving his fat head some experimental kitten licks that make him want to shove your head down to the base of his cock. But he won’t. Wonwoo isn’t Johnny. He wouldn’t dare to be rough with you after what just happened, despite your apparent eagerness to give him head right here, of all places. 
The mere reminder of that asshole has him buzzing with rage again, but whatever frustration is left over gets quickly replaced with toe-curling pleasure when you take his heavy length in the heat of your mouth. Your tongue lathers the underside of his shaft as every inch bypasses your plump lips. What your mouth can’t reach, you compensate with your fingers—fondling both his balls and the base of his cock with tender yet salacious touches.
He has to tell you to knock it off. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with…whatever shit you have going on with Johnny. But your mouth feels like fucking heaven, and Wonwoo isn’t a good enough person to deny himself the pleasure.
The rain continues to pour outside, but the sound of it is eclipsed by the wet noise of you bobbing up and down his engorged cock. As Wonwoo’s orgasm slowly builds itself from the ground up, his large hand gathers your hair in a single clump—tugging hard enough to have you moaning around his length.
“Good, good girl,” he rasps before thrusting his hips into your mouth. 
 When he finally comes, you swallow every drop he pours down your throat. Even when your eyes start to sting with tears, you take it all while Wonwoo holds your head in place. 
As his high starts to ebb away, Wonwoo realizes this is probably the most breathless he’s been rendered since he started fucking around with you. He could probably blame that on the shitty car ventilation, but there’s just something so fucking enticing about seeing you wedged beneath him on the floor—face streaked with tears with remnants of his release still sticking on your lips.
Wordlessly, you peel yourself away as you scramble back to the passenger seat, making a nonchalant comment about how much you’ve imagined sucking him off in his car, but Wonwoo doesn’t quite process it all.
When he notices that the glass of his car windows have all but fogged up, he leans forward—one hand raised as he starts drawing shapes into the moisture. You stare at him with a bewildered look, wondering what on earth he was up to. But the moment you realize what he’s drawing, your expression twists from confusion to disbelief.
Stars. Wonwoo was drawing stars on his fucking windshield with his entire dick still out and everything. He doesn’t even look fazed while he’s doing it.
“You can’t be serious,” you say.
He shrugs and grabs some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up before putting himself away—handing it to you right after. 
He’s so fucking thoughtful; it still gives you whiplash.
“You said you wanted to see the stars, right?” Wonwoo shrugs. “This is the best I can give you right now, so.”
You stare at him for a couple of seconds longer—like you can’t believe a man like Jeon Wonwoo really exists on this earth. Then, you laugh. It’s one of those obnoxious ones that typically have Wonwoo rolling his eyes at you, but it sounds like music to his ears after seeing you cry your eyes out .
Wonwoo does manage to get enough ice cream for the two of you to feast on back in your apartment as you both watch this food show that Mingyu keeps recommending to him. The tricky part is trying to get your hands off him the entire time. 
For someone who went through something pretty traumatic earlier in the evening, you’re fucking insatiable. But Wonwoo’s resolve can no longer be shaken, and the dirtiest thing that you end up doing in your bedroom is giving him a kiss on the cheek before bidding him good night.
It’s only when you’re dozing softly against his chest—having trusted him enough to fall asleep in his company—that Wonwoo realizes something that might change the trajectory of your set-up for good.
He’s in love. 
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The next morning, Mingyu greets Wonwoo at the apartment like a mother would her troublemaking son who got caught sneaking home in the middle of the night.
“It’s Koyahngi, isn’t it?” he says point-blank. 
Wonwoo doesn’t exactly have the energy to play some mental gymnastics with Mingyu right now. The moment it dawned on him how he actually felt about you, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Thoughts about what he should do have kept him up all night. Should he come clean about it? Should he just leave it be?
But when he remembers what you said about him during that one visit of his…
I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type.
That pretty much leaves him with one option, which is the one he’s been meaning to take all along. The idea of having to confess his love for you like some sort of prepubescent high schooler honestly makes him want to vomit. But at the same time, resorting to…concealing his feelings from plain sight doesn’t sit well with him either.
But no matter what he feels about either option, Wonwoo knows that keeping his mouth shut about it is the best option. Especially when you’re still emotionally high-strung from that encounter with Johnny. 
“So what if it is?” Wonwoo grumbles, plopping himself onto the couch right next to Mingyu.
“For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought the two of you were a good match,” his roommate offers, and Wonwoo appreciates his pep-talk. Really, he does. But he’s pep-talking him for the wrong fucking outcome. “You should totally go for it if you haven’t already.”
You don’t do relationships, and neither does Wonwoo. He knows if he uses this line of reasoning as a rebuttal to Mingyu’s words, his best friend will stubbornly insist that he get the girl anyways. He’s always been the one-track-mind type that gives it his all once he’s finally set on something. 
But Wonwoo is nothing like his enthusiastic roommate. He’s cold, and sharp-tongued, and everything you probably wouldn’t want in a boyfriend. All he’s good for is a quick fuck every now and again, and he’s not about to start deluding himself that he can be anything more to you.
(Yet part of him still hopes anyway.) 
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🐈‍: are u free today
🐈‍⬛: Be there in thirty
🐈‍: whoa i haven’t even told you what i had planned
🐈‍: what if i actually wanted to take you on a date to the park huh
🐈‍⬛: Did you?
🐈‍: no, my new raiden shogun cosplay set just arrived
🐈‍: and we kinda have this unspoken tradition 
🐈‍: if you know what i mean
🐈‍⬛: You want me to fuck you in it?
🐈‍: always <3
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There’s something off when Wonwoo shows up at your doorstep.
He knows you easily pick up on it from the way your eyes narrow slightly when you scrutinize him. From what he can tell, he’s acting as aloof as he always does, yet you still ask him, “You okay?” as if he’s doing something different.
“Yeah,” he mumbles before quietly closing the door behind him.
As you lead him to your room, you tell him that you haven’t put on your cosplay yet because the stockings that came with your order were itchy as fuck, and how you’re thinking of having them replaced one of these days. Wonwoo hums in reply, eyes trained on the takeout packaging that litters your kitchen counter. He has half the mind to tell you to start eating healthily, but reminds himself that’s the sort of thing boyfriends do—not fuck buddies.
Your dainty lo-fi playlist is streaming in your room like always, and when you see the assorted fabrics of your cosplay crumpled on your desk, you heave a tired sigh.
“I’m too lazy to put it on now,” you whine. “Can you just fuck me normally?”
He doesn’t give you a verbal response. Instead, Wonwoo pulls you by the hip, pressing you impossibly close to him as he rests his forehead on top of yours. You startle a little at his abruptness, but your body language betrays no sign of resistance. If anything, you lean more into his touch as the seconds tick past.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whisper like you’re afraid of shattering something delicate. “You seem out of it.”
“I’m fine,” he insists, and before you can say anything else in response, he slots your mouths together in a slow, sensual kiss. 
Wonwoo likes to get things done hard and fast. He’s a man who sticks to his schedules for the day if he can help it, so he typically treats these sessions with you as timed encounters. More often than not, he’ll be out of your door in two hours or less so he can dedicate his time to working out or planning for new content.
Now, it’s a little different. He takes his sweet time with you—mouths moving in voluptuous unison as if he’s finally dedicating each second to truly memorize the curve of your lips against his. You moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his dark hair before he pulls away from you with a breathless sigh. 
Wonwoo stares at you like you’re the center of the universe. He can only hope you see the same thing when you stare back.
You know when Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he means business. One moment he’s placing them on top of your nightstand, and the next, you’re suddenly pinned beneath him on your bed—getting your lips devoured by the insatiable man on top of you. 
There’s something so innately alluring to his kisses that you haven’t felt during the last time you fucked Wonwoo in this same room. Those were less kisses and more of a clash of teeth and tongue. Now, he stokes a kind of desire that almost scares you to have. You’re afraid if you indulge yourself too much in this version of him, you’ll get addicted. 
The two of you are supposed to be filming today. Yet you seem to have forgotten all about your plans as you lose yourselves in the heat of each other’s bodies. But despite the mellow pace that Wonwoo has established, the desperation still lingers in his touch. 
He flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting right on top of him, gasping out loud as you steady yourself across his hips. Wonwoo smiles lazily, drawing circles along the curve of your thigh before teasing the waistband of your shorts with a single finger. You whimper as you grind down against his hardening length, still confused about how soft he’s being with you today, but no complaints are going to be filed.
“You want my cock that badly?” he asks, and you nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Then work for it.”
You bite your lip, not bothering to remove either of your clothes when you haul out Wonwoo’s length from the fabric of his sweats. Just a few pumps from your small fingers has him hot and heavy in your hand—making your mouth water with anticipation. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of taking him inside your tight little pussy.
Nudging the hem of both your shorts and panties to the side, you quietly sink down on his engorged cock with a strained whimper. The lack of prep definitely isn’t doing you any favors, but the raw stretch of him so deep inside your walls sends a rush of pleasure straight to your skull. In no time, you’re bouncing on top of his lap like a bitch in heat—mind hazy with the feeling of Wonwoo hitting you even deeper than usual. 
You sort of expected him to amp up the dirty talk. You don’t always get to ride him like this, yet Wonwoo stays perfectly quiet as he watches you thrash and moan above him. His hands rest comfortably at the curve of your waist, guiding your movements, all while offering up a few thrusts of his own.
It feels so fucking good whenever he hits that perfect spot inside you, but the pleasure pulls the wool over your eyes because you’re completely oblivious to the way Wonwoo is looking at you right now.
He was a fool to think that if he just had his way with you like he usually does, those delusions of his would go away naturally. That it would serve as an anchor to the reality of your relationship with him. But when Wonwoo has you chasing your high right before him—so devastatingly beautiful in the lowlights of your bedroom—he realizes he’s fucked.
All this does is make him fall even deeper in love with you. 
“S-So close,” you whimper, grinding down on his cock with each downward thrust. “Wonwoo, please, please. Fuck—!” 
He quickly shoots up from his initial position, lying down, fingers tangled in your hair as he forces your head close to meld your lips together once again. Wonwoo fucks up into you relentlessly, his breathing erratic against your mouth, all while he tries his best to keep all of his secrets from coming out of his own lips. 
You’re the most infuriating person he knows, but he can’t help but look after you anyways. He claims to hate you, but the way he’s rolling his hips into yours would tell a different story. You drive him insane each waking day, yet you have no clue of the extent of it.
He would never admit it—not in a million, billion years—but you’re Wonwoo’s favorite poison, and he’d rather watch himself burn from the inside out than find an antidote. 
He hates having to hide you away from the world like this. Hates treating you like some sort of dirty little secret. He’s allowed to share you with the world through anonymous pornography, but not as a bonafide lover, and it drives him up a fucking wall every time he thinks about it. 
But the thing about Wonwoo and sex is that once he finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, his clarity of mind is a bit too quick to settle. As he helps clean you up in the bathroom, he tells himself that it’s simply impossible for someone like you to want anything more with someone like him. After all, you said it yourself.
You don’t do relationships. 
Who the hell is Wonwoo to change your mind about that anyway?
“Wonwoo?”
He looks up at you just when he just finished wiping a cool, wet towel across your leg. “What?”
Your eyes shy away from his. “Um, you might call me a sap or something, but I…kinda liked it.”
“Liked what?”
“That,” you say while making some vague hand gestures at him. “When you were all gentle with me and stuff. I wouldn’t mind having soft Wonwoo again next time.”
Next time.
The words echo in Wonwoo’s mind far more than what he expected, and he finds himself frowning at the notion. Can he still keep up this charade, now that he’s aware of his feelings for you? How long can he continue the act until he inevitably slips up, and you find out?
How long does he have left before you drop him because he’s starting to want more from you?
“Wonwoo, where are you…?”
He doesn’t hear the rest of what you have to say because he’s already padding out of the bathroom—heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. Wonwoo fishes his glasses from the nightstand and the keys to his car. He’s more than intent on getting out of here as soon as possible, but it seems you have other plans.
“Hey,” you call out before tugging at his arm. Wonwoo forces himself not to meet your eyes, but he feels the intensity of your stare regardless. “You’re acting really fucking weird today. Is there something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”
“No,” he mumbles, wanting to add, I’m the one who’s done something you won’t like, but opting to keep his silence instead. 
“Then…why are you acting like this?” 
The pleading look in your eyes almost makes him cave in and pour out everything that’s been flooding his heart for the past few days. It’s so easy to just rip the band-aid off and be honest. To risk everything for the abysmal chance of you reciprocating his feelings.
But Wonwoo knows that life isn’t a fucking gacha game, and he’s not about to throw away what he has with you now, especially when he knows what he wants doesn’t coincide with what you want. 
“Just having a shitty day,” he reasons, and the lie tastes like acid on his tongue. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”
Before Wonwoo steps out of your door, he makes another mistake of looking back. Now, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get the image of you on the verge of tears as you stood all alone in your bedroom for reasons he’ll never know
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Wonwoo runs into Saerom in the supermarket one fateful afternoon.
Mingyu is usually the one who does the grocery runs for both of them—being the person who knows which brands are best for both food and apartment maintenance and all. But his best friend happened to land himself a modeling gig recently, and they rescheduled the shoot today on short notice. Wonwoo insisted that they could live another day without eating rice, but Mingyu was having none of it, and gave his roommate a full list of groceries he expects him to buy no later than today.
So here he is in the canned goods aisle, expression mirroring Saerom’s when she recognizes him as well. It’s not often that Wonwoo bumps into a familiar face in this part of town, so he’s rightfully surprised.
When she asks him if he’s free to have lunch with her at a nearby bistro, he sees no reason to decline. Saerom has always been his good friend, and it’s only natural for him to want to catch up. That, and he’s curious about what she’s doing here in the first place.
“I just moved into the neighborhood actually,” she explains once the waiter is done taking their orders. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t spoken to you since that time I hijacked your stream.”
Wonwoo clearly remembers the day she asked him to look out for you all those months ago. Saerom is quite literally an angel, extending her concern even to the people who probably don’t need nor deserve it. He gulps down his water thickly, wondering if he should tell her the truth. 
But with how his brain seems to be all over the place these days, he ends up coming clean about it anyway.
When the food arrives, Wonwoo tells Saerom about the truth behind the porn videos implicating you in the past—how you’re actually the one being filmed in all of them. He also tells her about how Wonwoo takes part in the creation process of said videos (deciding to leave Johnny out of the story because that’s going to be another can of worms to deal with). Then, he ends the tall tale with the begrudging fact that he may or may not have caught feelings for someone he isn’t supposed to.
Saerom listens intently to each word—chewing on her salad with a contemplative look. She never betrays any sort of expression that would suggest her true opinions on the matter, which makes Wonwoo all too thankful that she’s the one he entrusted this with.
“I see,” she sighs once she’s finished the rest of her food. “I knew something was a bit off about her situation, but I’m glad that she’s safe, at least. Although about that budding romance of yours… Don’t you think it’ll be easier if you just discussed it with her directly? An outsider like me can only offer you so much advice, Wonwoo.”
He sighs, stabbing his food with his fork. “I know, but…what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she finds out how I really feel?”
Saerom lets out a wistful sigh—staring directly at Wonwoo like she intends for him to remember her next words for a long time.
“Then that’s your sign to find someone else who can accept the love you’re more than willing to give. If she turns you down, that’s more of her loss than yours, you know.”
Wonwoo wants to tell her she’s giving him too much credit. It almost sounds like Saerom is insisting that he’d actually make a good boyfriend. He half-wonders if he should ask her if she accidentally mistook him for Mingyu, but then Saerom’s phone rings in the middle of their conversation. 
It’s a short call, and Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening in to give her some privacy. When it ends, though, she bows her head in apology, letting him know that her boyfriend’s waiting for her at the parking lot.
“It’s nice meeting you again, Wonwoo.” She smiles before pulling him into a hug. “I hope your girl problems are already sorted out the next time I see you.”
Wonwoo lets out an uneasy laugh as he returns her embrace. 
He really hopes so, too. 
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One month.
It takes Wonwoo one entire month to reach out again, right after he left you without a word in your apartment last time. Part of him feels like he should be guilty for ghosting you so suddenly like that, but he swears he didn’t ghost you. 
He’s just…giving both of you some time and space away from each other. God knows his judgment gets clouded whenever he’s near you. 
Still, he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him for it right away. Much like Mingyu, you’re the sulky type. But while he usually deals with Mingyu’s sulking by leaving him alone for a few hours, that solution is counterproductive when it comes to you because…he’s already left you alone for a month. Wonwoo has a feeling that if he prolongs it any further, you might not talk to him ever again.
You were already wrapping up this evening’s stream when he left his own apartment, and he figures you’re getting ready for bed when he gets to yours.
His knuckles rap against the door once, twice, and he waits. 
Not that Wonwoo is counting, but it takes you five minutes to answer the door—already in your comfortable pajamas and your kitten skincare headband resting on top of your head. It seems that you weren’t expecting any late-night visitors when your eyes nearly bug out at the sight of him. 
“Won—” You shake your head as if you can’t even bear to say his name. “What are you doing here?”
He hesitates.
Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for you. He gave you space for one month, and he still doesn’t know what to say when he finally deigned to show you his face. 
Your posture is rightfully apprehensive. Wonwoo can almost imagine how you’ve branded him as a raging ghoster in your head for the past few weeks. For a moment, he fears that you’ll throw him out of your apartment before he can even set foot in it, but you simply wait for him to respond—affording him some patience he definitely doesn’t deserve.
“I…” Wonwoo starts but his voice falters, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly. “You’re getting better at using Chamber.”
You scowl at him, and if Mingyu was here, Wonwoo thinks he would’ve face-palmed because of how pathetic he’s being right now. 
Seriously? Bringing up the latest Valorant agent she’s playing when you’re supposed to say you’re in love with her? Wonwoo can practically hear his roommate in his head, along with an added, You’re so fucking mid, hyung. 
“Okay,” you say, still visibly wary of his presence. “Anything else? I’d rather get everything out of the way so you can continue ghosting me in peace.” 
Fuck. He knew it.
“I’m—” 
Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was too scared of how I felt about you to deal with it like a normal person.
“—starting to think that you’re fine without me after all.”
At this point, Mingyu would’ve pummeled him to the ground.
Jeon Wonwoo, you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, imagination-Mingyu points out, and he couldn’t agree more.
“Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I am fine without you, asshole,” you bite back snarkily, making the motions to shut the door in his face, but Wonwoo wedges his foot in between. 
“Wait—fuck. I’m sorry,” he insists, swallowing thickly. “Can I come in? Please?”
The desperation in his tone makes you arch an eyebrow. Wonwoo never says please. It’s almost always the other way around, whether in a sexual context or not. So even if you know you should just leave him there like how he left you a month ago, you breathe out a sigh in defeat before opening the door wider for him.
“Fine.”
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You’ve never sat at your dining table with Wonwoo. You never had to. Whenever he comes over, it’s either to have sex or let you teach him about a game he can’t be assed to play on his own. He doesn’t stay long enough to warrant asking him if he wants some takeout or leftovers from the fridge, so seeing him nursing a glass of water across from you still feels surreal. 
“So are you going to explain why you suddenly just ditched me, or are we going to stew in the silence all night?” you ask. 
Wonwoo’s gaze flickers over to you irritably, and you hate to admit that the sight of that expression makes a pang of…something ripple in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, much less spoken to him, so even if you should be fucking mad, you can’t help but miss him. 
God fucking damn it.
He doesn’t answer right away. Like he’s carefully choosing which words he’ll allow you to hear and which would be better off unsaid. But if there’s something you’ve come to know about Wonwoo after all these months, it’s that he doesn’t have good intuition when it comes to other people’s emotions. 
Even if it seems like he’s being particularly careful about his words, that doesn’t guarantee that what’s going to come out of his mouth won’t be stupid.  
“I just had to clear my head for a while,” he says, providing no context whatsoever, and that makes you frown even more. 
“Clear your head?” you echo as you cross your legs. “From what?”
Wonwoo’s usually aloof look shifts for a moment. An unreadable expression flits across his face, but it’s gone before you can even make sense of it.
“It’s nothing you should worry about.”
“Nothing I should… Wonwoo, you were already acting strange the last time you were here. Then you went ahead and ignored me for an entire month!” You slam your hands on the table, the Wonwoo’s glass rattling in the process.
“How am I not supposed to worry when all this time, you made me think I was the reason you suddenly just flaked on me like that?”
He narrows his eyes at you, as if he doesn’t quite get why you’re pissed. “Why does it even matter? I’m just your fuck buddy, right? Why should you care if I just come and go whenever I feel like it?”
The apathetic tone that accompanies his words lances straight through your chest. Were you an idiot for believing that the look he wore earlier in front of your apartment was genuine? That he was actually apologetic for leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to drive him away without a word?
Your fists shake from where you’re pressing them into the polished wood of your dining table. Wonwoo’s indifferent stare doesn’t let up, and as the white noise rings in your ears, it makes you wonder…
“Why’d I have to fall in love with someone like you?”
The words come out so softly, so quietly that you doubt Wonwoo would’ve heard you. But as your vision gets blurry with tears, you don’t see how  surprise begins to eclipse his aloofness.
Wonwoo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when his ears caught what you just said. He couldn’t have heard wrong. It was too quiet in your apartment to mistake what you said for anything else.
You’re…in love with him?
“You know what?” You breathe in deeply, eyes darting up to the ceiling as you wipe off the evidence of your vulnerability. “Just…leave, Wonwoo. I can’t talk to you right now. Please.”
“Say it again.”
When your gaze drifts back to him, it’s accompanied with an expression twisted into disbelief.
“What?”
Before you can even think about what he could even mean by that, Wonwoo gets up from his seat, striding over to your side of the table. You flash him another apprehensive stare, but all of a sudden, he cups your face in both of his hands—delicately, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.
“Tell me you’re in love with me.”
You immediately bristle at his request. “Are you fucking insane? I know you’re a sadist but—”
Wonwoo presses forward without warning—capturing your lips in an unsolicited kiss that catches you off guard but angers you at the same time. No matter how badly you missed having him pressed up against you in more ways than one, you’re not going to let him trample on your feelings again. 
“I hate you,” you rasp, salty tears breaking their tension across your lashes as they slide down your cheeks in glistening streaks. “I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your words carry little weight to them, and Wonwoo is completely aware of this. Almost like he’s trying to placate you, he wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs—that hard-eyed gaze weathering into something softer, more sincere with each passing second. 
You abhor how handsome he looks like this.
“Is that your way of telling someone you love them?” he chuckles breathlessly, lips rising to the crown of your head as he presses a soft kiss on top. “If that’s the case, then…”
“I fucking hate you, too.”
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Wonwoo isn’t sure how long the two of you have been going at it, but by your fourth orgasm, your newfound lover is yet to be sated.
“Again,” he growls, tugging your limp body closer to his. “Say it again.”
One of the things Wonwoo particularly likes about exploring all sorts of sexual escapades with you is that you teach him things about himself that he never even knew about. 
First was that stupid daddy kink, and now…
“I love you,” you whimper, mindlessly grinding against his still hard cock despite being worn and spent. “I love you, Wonwoo.”
Despite the fact that your honesty drives him to near-insanity, Wonwoo can’t help the relieved sigh that fills his veins every time you utter the words. At first, you stubbornly kept up the act of hating him as he railed you into the mattress, but with every mind-numbing orgasm, your hate slowly bled into love, and Wonwoo finds it fucking cathartic. 
You beat him to what he came over to tell you himself. It was a little embarrassing on his part, he has to admit, but there’s some sort of relief that comes with knowing the same person he’s been vying for also feels the same way.
He’ll tell you the words properly someday.
Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Wonwoo promises that he’ll let you hear how much he adores you soon enough.
For now, he’ll give you one last release.
He’s certain that he can still go one more round, but he can’t really say the same for you. If Wonwoo makes you cream on his cock one more time, he’s afraid you’ll actually pass out from exhaustion. 
So instead, he lays you down on your plush pillows—crawling lower down your body until he finds himself between your legs. He chuckles when you crane your neck weakly to see what he’s trying to do, but Wonwoo is already hooking your thighs over his shoulders before you can say a word.
Your body twitches from oversensitivity as his tongue laves at your ruined cunt—not caring that his own spend has mixed with yours from where the creamy liquid seeps from your hole. Wonwoo groans into your cunt when your thighs squeeze around his head as if meaning to suffocate him with your pussy.
Honestly? If that’s the way he’s gonna go, he’ll accept it with open arms.
“Daddy,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his tousled hair. “I c-can’t anymore…”
Wonwoo suckles at your clit in response, earning himself a high-pitched whine as you roll your hips into his face. For someone who claims she can’t come anymore, you’re awfully eager for him to pinpoint your orgasm again.
“You can, baby,” he insists, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. “You can ‘cause you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 
He feels your inner muscles clenching at his words, and Wonwoo makes a mental note to praise you more often. You might just like that more than his run-of-the-mill dirty talk after all.
“‘m your good girl,” you babble. “Always daddy’s good girl.”
Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him.
When you’ve recovered from the crest of your final orgasm, Wonwoo carries you to the bathroom and carries you into a bath he’d drawn himself. You complain about how he didn’t set the temperature in the tub right, and Wonwoo promises to do better next time. 
As the two of you soak in the semi-warm water, Wonwoo rests his head against the tiled wall—the fatigue starting to seep into his bones. He doesn’t let himself complain, though, because if he’s feeling spent, he can only imagine how sore you must be feeling. He wonders if he should order some food for the both of you or just let you sleep right away.
“Wonwoo?”
He raises an eyebrow at your meek voice calling out to him. “Yeah?”
You shift a little on his lap, turning around as droopy eyes bore into his. Wonwoo is about to call you out for being weird, but the words evaporate on his tongue when you lean forward to peck his lips. 
“Can I borrow your phone?”
He tilts his head to the side, wondering why you’re asking for his phone. You couldn’t possibly be asking him to film some content here in the tub…right?
Wonwoo watches in complete silence as you open his Twitter app—further feeding into his curiosity. But he doesn’t comment on whatever it is you’re about to do, patiently watching as you maneuver around the accounts logged onto his phone. 
However, when you pull up on the Settings tab of that porn account the two of you have been running for months, scrolling all the way down—
“What are you doing?” he asks as your finger hovers over the ‘Deactivate account’ button.
You glance at him, confused. “I’m getting rid of this account. What else does it look like?”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? I can’t share my sex tapes with the rest of the world now that I have a boyfriend.”
The bathroom falls silent for about three heartbeats before Wonwoo wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. You yelp in surprise, struggling against his iron-tight grip in a way that has water splashing all around you. Wonwoo couldn’t care less, though.
“I love you,” he murmurs into the naked skin of your shoulder. 
You don’t respond for a while, like you’re surprised by his easy admission. But the tension in Wonwoo’s spine unravels when you rest your head across his shoulder, chuckling as you caress his face tenderly.
“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook though,” you chide. “You’ve got several months of dates to make up for. Just because you took the express lane into being my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on the effort that normally comes with it.”
Wonwoo shakes his head, turning your face so his eyes can meet yours. 
He can’t believe he was stupid enough to run away from his own feelings for an entire month. If only he’d been more honest with both you and himself the last time he was here, he could’ve spent all the weeks after with you cradled in his embrace.
But then again, it’s the choices you both made so far that led you to where you are now.
And for now, he’s perfectly content with that.
“Challenge accepted.”
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part one - part two - part three - part four
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q: is there going to be a third part? a: yes! however, part 3 is literally just in its early stages of creation. i don't even have a serious doc for it, just a few vague plot bunnies gathering dust in my head SJDFHDFG BUT since i'm feeling generous, attached below is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!
This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.  How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?
aaaaaand that's all i have for now! thank you so much for waiting patiently for this installment! it took me an entire month since i posted the teaser, but here it is hehe :3c i hope you all liked it! do stay tuned for that third part, whenever the hell i can get around to writing it T T
this is part of the game over series!
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ceilidho · 8 months
Text
prompt: you keep seeing apparitions of a dead special forces operative who's been haunting the barracks. (light angst; nsfw) (actual ghost simon riley)
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War dogs chewed up and spat out by the machinery of war.
It is an incalculable blow to learn of his death. Worse still that you learn of it by happenstance, one officer talking to another, only listening in because it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him and their voices go hushed in that way that makes your ears prick up. You’re sitting at a nearby table in the canteen when someone says the single most devastating words that have ever been spoken near you.
“They weren’t able to recover the whole body, just some of it. Pretty gruesome. Don’t know if you ever met him, but he was an alright guy—pretty quiet. Scary, yeah, but—I don’t know. He was fair. Got the job done though. Soap’s taking it pretty hard.”
You barely breathe at the news. Something is squeezing your heart until it overfills on the other side. 
You walk around base in a daze after that. It’s not anyone’s fault that you aren’t notified—no one was supposed to know. Your whole arrangement with Simon was predicated on the knowledge that it would never be revealed to your commanding officers or the rest of the infantry. Made sense at the time. Makes less sense now when your world is falling apart and you have no way of even requesting Ghost’s dog tags. 
Pain holds you upright like a splint while it also tries to smother you. You crawl back to your barracks after training the recruits, voice a hoarse whisper in your throat. Showers are an optimal place to cry, when maybe you won’t be heard. Grief is not grief when there’s nowhere for it to go. 
Maybe Soap was privy enough to Ghost’s life to know. He doesn’t spend time with you, but you see him once from across the tarmac on a flight out and his gaze lingers on you. There are deep troughs under his eyes, dark even with the distance between you. His posture is still, rigid; despite his uniform being pressed and his hair being cut and gelled into place, there is something singularly heavy weighing him down.
He nods from across the way to you. You grit your jaw and nod back. 
It’s the only time you’ll ever acknowledge it. Soap never seeks you out after that—maybe it’s too painful. Maybe shared pain isn’t always enough. 
The worst is only finding out weeks later that Ghost has been buried. That’s your closure. An offhand comment from an operations officer on a smoke break. Your numb hand flicking a lighter. Rain breaking in the early twilight hours and you stand in it so long that you shiver and shake on your way back to your room. 
Lightning that crackles in the storm clouds, illuminating the place where you just stood outside while you stare from your window. Illuminating someone standing where you just were. You squint, but they round the bend to one of the other buildings before you can make them out. 
Every soldier has a story. Conducting barracks checks on staff duty only to find a soldier with half their jaw missing asking for a cigarette. A marine approaching a soldier asking for his rifle, garbed in a ripped vest from early Iraq. Squad bays known for apparitions, known for hauntings. Figures seen from the trees, the half-shadowed remains of old tanks, burned and hollowed out, suddenly upright and mobile. 
In certain barracks, soldiers won’t even leave their rooms at night to use the washroom. They’d rather piss in old bottles or hold off until morning light altogether. It’s common enough to be joked about, for soldiers to trade stories in the mess over supper, trying to spook each other with the things they’ve seen or claimed to see. 
You can tell the ones who’ve actually seen things from those who haven’t though. The ones who have are often quieter, often only laugh a little. The truth is buried in their inability to fully commit to the bit. It’s the knowing that does that.
Knowing that there are things that death cannot hide. 
The first time you see Simon again, it’s not a homecoming. You know there’s something very wrong. 
It’s 3am and someone’s standing in front of your door. You feel it before you see them, feel something like every single hair on your body standing on end and the sudden lucid thought in the middle of a dream that you need to wake up. That you need to wake up right now. 
Heart racing when your eyes snap open. Sweat already slicking the backs of your knees. You’re lying on your side, hands curled close to your face, and you feel its gaze on you like the heaviest dread you’ve ever felt in your life. You stare at the wall that your bed is pushed up against until you find the courage to roll over.
Just a shape in the dark. A dark shape. Distinct from the rest of the darkness in your room. Tall as it is wide. The slightest motion to it, like breathing or the gentle swaying of the human body when it’s allowed to be loose. 
There’s a lamp on your end table. You flick it on without tearing your eyes away from the dark shape looming by the door, but when light unveils your room, it flickers away like a bad illusion. Just a jacket hung up on the back of the door. Your heart races still. 
When the light goes off, the shadow doesn’t reappear.
It might not be him, but something’s haunting you. You spoon cereal into your mouth in the morning with a shaking hand. It’s the massive shape of a body behind the shower curtain in your private bathroom that has you certain—certain—that someone’s there until you whip it to the side and see only tile wall. You know what you saw though, and you know from the way the top of it peeked over the curtain that it was blond. 
Weeks go by. You’re in a bivy sack and a voice you recognize wakes you up for watch. It’s the same voice that used to rumble low in your ear when you let him into your bed on leave (you always used to take them at the same time, no one the wiser). You’re back on base in your room and something leans its full weight onto your bed. You wake up to him sitting on the edge of your bed, blood dripping from an old wound. Him though, skull mask and all. Eyes shadowed always, black staring at you seeing and unseeing. 
You don’t need to ask what he wants from you. He lumbers around the barracks like a wraith that only you can see. Never truer to his old moniker than he is in death. A civilian worker flirts with you one day and he winds up in the infirmary. Fell down the stairs, another sergeant tells you when you ask. You smile tight, brittle. If only. 
He slips into your bed at night when the lights are shut and you’ve turned over onto your side. You can’t see him, but the bed compresses under his weight like it did when he was alive. He’s still for a minute, stare heavy on you while you lie there motionless, waiting him out. When he finally lays a hand on your hip, you flinch at how normal it feels. Like he didn’t go out and die one day. Like it’s really him at your back dragging a hand down the curve of your hip and over your thigh.
He divests you of your pyjamas the same way he used to in motel rooms, your apartment off-base, his cabin up north that you still have the key to but can’t bring yourself to visit. You let him. Shorts pulled down and kicked to the bottom of the bed, then your underwear. Shirt rucked up so he can fit a big, rough hand over your tit. His hands are solid where they touch you, nothing ghostly about them. He squeezes like the memory of your flesh is half-gone, like he needs to sink himself into you again. 
“Missed…you…” His voice comes like a deep rumble, tectonic plates shifting over the asthenosphere. 
The hand on your breast slides up, over the delicate skin of your throat, over where your pulse goes mad and you dry swallow because there’s nothing in your mouth. Over and up the curve of your cheek, thumb pressing against your lips, curling your top lip up until you’re almost kissing it. Then he lets go, hand coming back down to your hip. 
“Simon, are you—” you start, cut off on a gasp when he lifts your leg over his hip and something presses against your opening. Notches there, sinks in hot inch after hot inch. Head spinning and breath wild when he spears you on his thick length, half-tumbling over you until you’re lying prone on your bed. Simon’s as heavy as you remember, the full weight of him keeping you trapped there. You can only take. You can only draw in a deep breath and let out the softest sounds while he presses in, 
“Had to…come back,” the ghost of your old lover says, growling into your ear. “Couldn’t…leave you here…alone.”
You wonder what’s really behind the mask this time. His hands and dick feel flesh enough, but fear still quivers in your belly because you know that whatever it is pressing you down with a firm hand on your shoulder blade, it’s not fully him. 
You’ve heard of ghosts haunting places but never people. There’s something achingly loyal about the way he fucks you though. It’s dark and hot under him, and he mouths where he can, mask pulled up finally. Not that you can see. Better that you can’t, maybe. Pulsing in and out of your cunt, silent but for his shallow intakes of breath. He feels enormous and terrifying at your back. 
A big arm still clad in his old uniform jacket is braced beside your head. Simon whispers apologies into your hair; that he pulled himself out of a grave for a second time because he couldn’t untangle his soul from yours, but he got it wrong this time around. He didn’t make it in time. 
“I won’t leave you though, love,” he says around kisses laid tender on the nape of your neck. He bites the meat of your shoulder hard enough to leave an imprint of his teeth. “Never gonna leave you.” His words make you slicker, hotter; tightening around him until he snarls and fucks more viciously. A promise you thought he couldn’t keep. 
In the morning, you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You take off your shirt and turn around. There’s a red bite mark on your upper left shoulder and it aches when you touch it.
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ratsonastick · 3 months
Text
Blind Love
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (happy Ending)
When you return from a mission, hurt and partially blind, Clarisse finds herself growing close to you. But the day you can finally see again she grows nervous that you won't recognize her voice.
Requests are still open
Warnings: Blood, aggression
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The first time everyone saw you again, you were bleeding from the eyes, crying hysterically while blindly walking through the camp woods with your friends on your shoulders.
You were a quiet and sweet girl, always with your two other friends, but even though you only had been at camp for a few weeks, you were sent on a quest. 
You didn't have time to remember people, to memorize their faces, you hoped to do that when you returned but unfortunately, you were attacked moments before entering the campgrounds for your return. 
Chiron ran to you, or at least that's who you thought it was, you couldn't see and all you could do was keep limping with your friend on your back. 
There were three of you, but Milo sacrificed himself to give you guys a chance. So you ran with Lila who hit her head, on your shoulders, until something sliced your eyes. You stumbled, screaming in pain and gripping at your eyes as you felt the blood travel down your face. 
Whatever did it to you, didn't want to kill you fell on the ground for Lila, throwing her over your shoulders once more and continuing to try and go in the direction of the camp.
You walked to the healing infirmary with two people guiding you and eventually sat down on a bed while many voices yelled in the background. 
You felt hopeless. You were hopeless, especially when they called out that Lila was dead. 
They covered your eyes with bandages, and you couldn't help but dampen them with blood and tears. 
Someone squeezed your shoulder and you only straightened your back and stayed still. “They will heal with the medicine we will provide, but you need to keep them covered … if they get infected then it's over.” A boy with a gentle voice told you. 
Holding your hand to help you get off the bed. 
They wanted to set you in your bed and allow you to finally relax but you refused. You wanted to sit in the chair on the porch of your cabin, if you couldn't see nature you wanted to at least feel it. 
And that's what you did, almost every day. You couldn't do anything else, you wouldn't talk to anyone, too devastated about what happened to your friends to try and make more. Without sight, you couldn't train, walk around, or explore. 
So you sat and simply breathed. 
But it wasn't till one day when a camper named Clarisse made the wrong choice at the wrong time. 
She didn’t know you, not many did, you were quiet before and now you were like a ghost. And talking to you did not sound appealing to her. 
So when she was walking past a camper that unfortunately left your cabin she decided to trip them because her siblings next to her dared her to. 
But then she heard a deep voice call her, Chiron. 
“Clarisse, we talked about this.” 
Clarisse let out a sigh and turned around to look at him as her siblings ran off, “About what?” 
“About your abuse towards other campers, just because your father is the god of war doesn't mean you have to always prove to him you can be aggressive.” 
You didn't know this girl, but you thanked her for saving you from Chiron. Chiron had been visiting you daily to try and convince you to do things, but you always whispered a no. 
“You need to be friendlier … help others.” He spoke once more, an idea brewing in his head “Which is why I want you to help Y/n … bring her to the lake” 
You let out a sigh, your eyebrows furrowing together in annoyance, now you couldn't say no to him. 
Clarisse looked at him annoyed, her arms crossing and she rolled her eyes. Chiron waved her to follow him and she did, approaching you as you sat there. 
“y/n, you need to get up. You like sitting in the ocean and it's time to move.” Chiron spoke, he didn't want you to think you had a choice. 
“I can't see, why would I want to go to the lake if I can't even see it.” You mumbled looking in the direction you thought he was in. “You still have a few other senses you can use to enjoy yourself there.” 
You sighed once more and turned your head away from him “Again. I can't see … how you plan on getting me there.” 
Chiron let out a chuckle ‘Well this is where Clarisse will come in clutch.” Clarisse looked at Chiron with anger, she did not want to help you, she had better things to do than this. 
Chiron grabbed your arm and helped you walk to Clarisse and gave her your arm. 
When he went to leave he placed his hand down on her shoulder “You can't hurt the blind … it's unfair.” 
While he walked away he chuckled “Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about being kind, Y/n is a good one.” 
Clarisse looked at you, her tongue poking the side of her cheek in annoyance. When she thought you’d say something to her, you didn’t. 
“Are we going to move?” you finally spoke up, your arm frozen in her grasp. “Oh…” Clarisse mumbled as she led you down the steps and the dirt paths. 
She didn’t mind the silence, she found herself enjoying the company without feeling the need to always be talking. 
Every once in a while, she found herself looking at you, how you still moved your head around as if you were looking for things to see, but instead it was only the sounds. She took notice how every once in a while you'd stumble and your grip would tighten on her arm. She noticed all these things and enjoyed them. 
When you finally arrived at the Lake, Clarisse picked a good spot and sat you down and then sat right next to you. 
She never really liked the water, always finding it aggressive, and not in a delightful way, and she hated how the sand always got caught in her hair. But she took notice of how your shoulders softened at the familiar sounds that you had kept yourself from for weeks, and she found herself smiling. 
“You like the water?” Clarisse asked softly, finding herself caring if you were ready to talk yet or not. “Yes … I grew up by the ocean, it makes me think of better times.” You mumbled, your fingers digging into the sand. 
You hate the sand, but you still find yourself touching it trying to remember those times you played with it when you were younger. 
Clarisse looked away from you and back at the lake, she wanted to hate Chiron for making her do this, but she couldn’t. 
After a few moments, Clarisse looked back at you and memorized your face, she wondered what your eye color was and if they matched your personality. “Do you want to … touch the water?” Clarisse thought for a moment, looking around at things to do. 
You had been sitting there for a while, soaking in the sun, she wasn't sure if you were bored. You nodded your head and stuck your arm out for her to grab, and she quickly took your hand, pulling you off the ground and slowly walking you toward the water. 
The waves were small, making a limited amount of noise, but the scent still wavered in the air. You walked closer to the water, Clarisse held a loose grip on your hand not wanting to hurt you, and then you finally touched the water. 
It was refreshing, almost felt like a new start to you, as if you were finally willing to try and live your life instead of sitting around all the time. 
You inhaled softly as you stood there, and Clarisse did the same, finally looking away from you and out at the water. Watching the campers row small boats and splash each other with the water. For once she didn't feel the anger she constantly felt, a part of her wanted to thank Chiron, but instead, she silently thanked you. 
After an hour you finally voiced that you were done, so Clarisse started to lead you back to your cabin. But instead of the usual route, she took a longer path, wanting you to spend some more time walking instead of going back to your cabin where you would sit back down. 
You knew what she was doing, you had noticed the difference in paths and how long they took. A part of you wanted to ask why but you kept quiet. 
Eventually, you got back to your cabin and she helped you to the door, you carefully opened it and felt around, following the string some of your younger siblings had set up for you to follow. 
Clarisse watched as you went inside, she knew you couldn’t see her standing there, so she took her time leaving. 
Every day she would go back to your cabin, saying it was Chiron who was making her help you but in reality, she just wanted you. 
You started to open up to her, showing the lively personality that you had lost during the attack, and Clarisse loved it. 
Things were perfect for both of you until it was the day to get your bandages off along with the stitches for good. While on your usual walk, you told Clarisse and for a moment you heard silence. 
“Aren't you excited for me?” You asked softly squeezing her arm gently and you heard Clarisse hum softly “Yeah –” 
“Will you be there for me?” you asked once more and you heard a soft hum from Clarisse again. You didn't think anything of it, but deep down Clarisse was upset. What if you saw her for who she is, an ugly person inside and out? 
Later that day you went to the infirmary, sitting down on the bed with your foot gently shaking at how excited you are. Will walked over to you and started to unwarp your face and you heard the door open, figuring it was Clarisse you asked someone “Is Clarisse here?” 
Will looked behind him and saw her, but before he opened his mouth Clarisse shook her head at him, staying near the door she waited. She didn't know why she didn't want to stay with you, she was always curious what your eye color was, but she still had that unfamiliar feeling of embarrassment. 
“No … she uhm isn't,” Will answered you, and he noticed how your shoulders visibly fell in disappointment. A feeling that maybe Clarisse didn’t like you flooded your mind but you quickly tried to brush it off. 
Will finally had the bandages off and started to unstitch your eyes, right before he finished Clarisse had left, not wanting you to see her. 
You quickly opened your eyes, looking around, everything was so bright. You smiled and thanked Will, walking towards a mirror and pausing in fright right in front of it. 
There were scars left behind, you were disappointed, you felt ugly and all you wanted to do was talk to Clarisse, but you had no idea what she looked like. 
“They'll disappear eventually don't worry Y/n” Will comforted you and you only nodded and smiled. When you walked around Camp you asked some campers where Clarisse was but they all either said they didn't know, or it was best if you didn't know. 
After an hour of searching you went back to your cabin defeated, it was nearly noon and campers were leaving to go get dinner, but you weren't feeling hungry. 
As you grabbed onto the railing, a habit of yours two hands covered your eyes which made you let out a yell. 
“Sorry!” the voice responded, and you immediately knew who it was. You turned around and saw her in all her glory, Clarisse. 
She was pretty … really pretty. You furrowed your brows together, forgetting why you were upset for a moment until you remembered. 
“I don't want to talk to you,” you spoke before turning around and walking up the stairs. Clarisse was quick to follow “Wait!” she grabbed your shoulder and turned you towards her, her hand running down to hold on to your arm. 
She stared into your eyes for a few moments, memorizing the colors and the way your pupils changed sizes when you looked at her. 
“Stop looking at them,” she looked puzzled for a second “At what?” 
“My scars,” you answered as you turned to look away, a part of you didn't want her to see you looking like this, “Why? They look badass” she mumbled, bringing her hands to gently touch them, which for a moment startled you until her fingertips started to feel nice against your skin. 
“You weren't there,” you mumbled quietly looking back at her, “I was … just didn't want you to see me.” she spoke softly back, her eyes still memorized by you, “But Will said-” 
“I told him to lie,” she responded quickly, her hand finally dropping, leaving your skin feeling colder than before. “Why?” 
“I just … was feeling insecure, wanted to look my best for you.” She spoke with a smile, and you took the time to lock away the memory of what her first smile looked like. “And why would you want that?” you asked even softer, allowing Clarisse’s hands to travel down your arms towards your hands. 
“Are you blind?” she asked in a bit of an aggressive voice, which startled you for a moment, but you did tell her you wanted to see all of her one day. “I like you.” She admitted shamefully, her hands trying to reach for your hips. 
While she waited for a response, she prayed to any god or goddess to help her, she wanted this to work out. 
“Do you think I would have stayed around to listen to you tell me about cartons if I didn’t like you.” She spoke up once more which made you smile, and Clarisse took notice of how your eyes and nose scrunched together when you smiled at her. 
She liked it. 
You both moved closer, not realizing it at first “I like how you aren't disappointed in how I am … or what my hands have done in the past.” she mumbled before she quickly kissed you. Her hands tighten around your waist. 
Through each kiss she mumbled another thing she liked about you, trying to convince you more that she liked you. 
“You're the person I want to crawl home for.” She admitted as she pulled away from your lips, her hands still in the loopholes of your shorts. 
You smiled and brought your hand up to touch her face, and you took notice of how she flushed a darker red at the touch of you. “I like you too Clarisse,” you smiled as you kept your eyes connected to hers. 
For a moment you forgot about everything until you heard a voice in the background, it was Chiron clearing his throat, “You ladies best get to dinner.” He let out a soft chuckle as he walked away. 
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