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buryustogether · 8 months

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in the lap of the gods

aziraphale x f!reader x crowley

summary: it’s 1941, and aziraphale is about to perform on the west end stage. he needs an assistant, of course, but you can’t stand the outfit you’re required to wear. your angel and your demon show you just how much they love it.

word count: 3k

warnings/tags: smut and fluff, reader wears a slutty outfit, threesome, thigh riding, semi-public sex, body worship, crowley’s a horny bitch, war violence, bombs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of guns

“I really don’t see why this get-up has got to be so… revealing,” you said. “I look like a harlot.”

“Well,” came a voice from behind the thin paper of the changing screen, “I suppose it’s to entice the strapping young soldiers out there. They do seem to enjoy a bit of… should I say… adultery?”

There came a second voice from further in the room, coiled and slick like a serpent. “Or,” he drawled, “it’s for easy access.”

“Crowley,” chided the first voice, disdain dripping from his tongue.

You gave a silent huff as you adjusted the skimpy little outfit the manager of the West End theater had given you, tugging at the thin material that barely covered your breasts and the thin strap that snaked between your legs. It was a glittery, near-elastic piece of pazazz that was sure to earn you more than a few glances and whistles this evening… something you promised you wouldn’t let get to you. If not for your reputation, for the pair of men on the other side of the changing screen that encased you like a butterfly trapped in a jar.

If you inhaled deep enough, you were still able to smell the smoke that clung to Aziraphale and Crowley’s suits, permeating the air and poisoning their natural musks that you so loved to inhale. You had spent the better part of the evening, as you followed them through London streets and around a magic shop, picking pieces of rubble and dusting traces of the explosion from their backs and shoulders. The bomb had shaken you to your core despite being miles away when it had happened, tucked away safely in the passenger seat of the Bentley.

“Crowley,” you had said as your demon had parked his car between the shadows of two tall, sturdy buildings that still stood against the smoke and destruction of the bombs. “What are we doing here? There’s still planes overhead.”

“Just sit tight for a minute, love,” he’d replied before climbing from the Bentley. “It seems our angel’s got himself in a heap of mess.”

The explosion had rocked the ancient church in the distance like a match igniting a stick of dynamite; fast, and hot, and loud. You waited so long you considered getting out and running to search the site for your lovers before they had come strolling around the corner through the dark, dusting themselves off and murmuring quietly beneath their breaths.

“Aziraphale,” you had said when you climbed from the car to greet them. “What on earth have you done?”

“Good evening to you, as well, my darling,” he had said, then lifted your hand and placed a loving kiss upon your knuckles. “Just got myself a bit caught up. Nothing to worry your head over.”

Crowley had harrumphed slightly as he dropped himself into the driver’s seat once more. “Get in, you two. I’ve got an appointment to keep.”

An appointment had led to forty broken bottles of whiskey. Forty broken bottles of whiskey had led to Aziraphale becoming a magician, and that had led to buying a very real rifle with very real bullets. And the rifle, and the bullets, and the broken bottles of whiskey, and everything else had led to you finding yourself here behind this changing screen, examining the costume of a magician’s assistant who, really, was only there to look pretty and smile when the light panned over her.

Crowley had told you it would be a bit of fun, was all. Aziraphale had assured you no real harm would be done.

Had you not loved them both more than you needed air to breathe, you might have considered saying no, begging your angel to not get up on that stage, dropping to your knees and begging your demon to miracle up a few more bottles of liquor to make up for the whole thing.

But, oh… you loved them far too much.

“Are you about settled, my darling?” came Aziraphale’s voice from deeper in the cramped little dressing room. “It’s ten ‘til, and I would rather not further anger the madame of the theater any more than necessary.”

“She’s a loony old bat,” came Crowley’s quip. “A few minutes won’t hurt her.”

You took one last look down at yourself - at the feathered headband in your grip; the exposed tops of your legs and the plump ‘V’ of your upper thighs that led to their apex just covered by the elastic; the heels that glittered in the dim light; the curves of your breasts, just barely held in place by the haltered neckline of the costume. You looked ridiculous.

With a long, deep breath you felt in your sternum, you placed a hand on the edge of the changing screen. “Don’t you boys poke your fun at me,” you warned them. “I know how I look, I don’t need you both reminding me.”

You pulled back the screen and stepped out, avoiding their eyes as you fiddled with the headband. You expected Crowley to bark out bouts of laughter, for Aziraphale to politely cover his mouth and look away to hide the rosiness of his cheeks as he held back a few giggles. But there came none of that. Instead, you were only met with silence. Hesitantly, you glanced up to meet their gazes.

Crowley and Aziraphale, for once in their eternal lives, looked rather lost for words. You didn’t take too many moments to soak in the way the demon tilted down his shades so he could peer those yellow eyes over the rims, nor how the angel’s back had gone stiff and he clutched his magician’s hat to his chest so tightly his knuckles paled. Instead of entertaining their amusement, you scoffed and clicked over to the vanity illuminated with golden bulbs; funny. Almost all the Watson bulbs had been grinded down for the war efforts. You supposed the West End had a bit of advantage in their supply when it came to things like glass and elastic.

“Yes, yes, gape all you want,” you snipped as you leaned forward to examine your reflection in the mirror; Christ almighty, you looked like a common slut. “Neither of you know how humiliating this is.”

At once, your angel jumped into action. “No, dearest,” he said as he came to stand beside you at the vanity, gently discarding his hat on the countertop. “We’re not poking fun at you, not in the slightest. We’re… well, you simply look…”

You eyed him from the corner of your vision.

“Incredibly doable,” came Crowley’s pitch from where he’d spread himself across the old couch tucked against the wall.

Aziraphale sent him a rather stern glance as you felt your chest drop slightly into your belly. You fixed your reflection with another stare. You looked like a prostitute, all your private planes and surfaces on display for everyone who even glanced in your direction. There was hardly a chance they enjoyed seeing their girl pimped up like this; was there?

“What he’s attempting to say,” said your angel as he reached out a soft, well-manicured hand and rested it respectfully on the middle of your back, “is, well… you do look rather ravishing, is all.”

“Oh, stop it, the both of you. You’re being mean.” Shouldering off his touch, you reached for a bit of the lipstick resting against the vanity and tried to stop your hands from trembling as you pulled off the cap and screwed it up. In all honesty, it still flustered you a bit when they showered you in affection; which they did often. How was it possible that an angel and a demon, in love themselves, who had seen the beginning of the earth and all the beautiful men and women in it, had fallen for you, a mortal, a little bit of soul within this planet full of it?

It didn’t quite make sense to you, but in the moments like these, when you felt yourself growing weak against their words, you cast the thought aside and let sense run rampant.

“After all this time, and you still don’t believe us when we say something nice?” clicked Crowley, reaching up to take the brim of his hat and rest it on the arm of the couch. He tilted his head at you in the reflection of the mirror, his gaze just out of sight behind his shades. “Come here.”

You looked to Aziraphale before blinking a few times, smearing your third layer of lipstick across your mouth. “The show will start soon,” you heard yourself say hesitantly. “I have to go out and announce him to the audience before…”

“Come here.”

Your demon’s sudden drop in tone sent a pang of both anxiety and arousal racing through you like fire dancing along your veins. You set down the tube of lipstick, hearing it clatter slightly from the shaking of your hand, and twisted around on your ridiculous heels to face him. He sat there on the couch, legs spread like he owned the world and arms stretched across the back of the seats like he was waiting for his two favorite people to arrive at his sides. He waited chin held high, finger tapping impatiently on the back. Aziraphale said nothing as you trailed from his side and approached the demon; when he spoke like this, it affected the both of you in the same way.

Crowley adjusted his legs when you came to him, allowing you to tentatively straddle his thighs until your hips were flush against his. A look back in the mirror told you your ass was hanging out of your skimpy little get-up, the leotard-like shape doing nothing to protect your modesty. Aziraphale seemed to be enjoying it quite nicely. You felt long, slender fingers touch your chin and guide your vision back to your demon. With his other hand, he reached up and pulled off his shades so that he could meet your gaze, yellow, slitted eyes boring into yours.

“You really ought to start taking our word for things, love,” Crowley said, and you shivered when his voice retained its deep baritone that only saw the light when there were two things at hand; imminent danger, and the promise of depravity. “‘Cause when we say you look good…” He leaned forward until his thin lips were level with the shell of your ear, his breath fanning across your skin. “We bloody well mean it.”

His hips shallowly bucked up into yours then and the rough material of his trousers rubbed at your clit perfectly through the thin elastic of your costume. You were unable to keep a soft, breathy murmur from escaping your lips at the sudden jolt of feeling, your hands flying up to balance yourself on his broad shoulders.

Behind you, you heard Aziraphale take in a small breath at the sight. He nervously shuffled his weight on his feet, glancing to the door that led to the stage. “Crowley,” he said in what should have been a warning, but it was far too soft to be taken seriously. “Now is… now is certainly not a good time for this.”

Crowley pulled another sound from you, this time a moan, when he held your hips in place and bucked again. “Well, it’s like I said,” he replied, tilting his head so he could look up at you as your hair fell into your face and your eyes began to roll back. “A few minutes won’t hurt them.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Besides, our girl’s nervous. Come and lend a hand, calm her a bit. You know how she likes it.”

You felt your face flush with heat from embarrassment, but you were slowly losing your will to care as Crowley leaned down to attach his lips to the base of your throat. His forked tongue laved across your skin like he was trying to memorize your taste, teeth nipping and fingers tightening around your waist. You were hardly able to notice when a second weight dipped the couch beside him, and your demon patted your thigh to get you to move. You knew just what to do; you always did. Feeling yourself beginning to grow slick between your legs, most assuredly ruining the gusset of this ridiculous outfit, you swung your legs over to kneel across both Crowley and Aziraphale’s thighs, which were pressed together where they sat so close not an inch of light could have separated them.

Aziraphale’s warm hand reached out to gently cup your chin, his thumb brushing lovingly across your jaw. “Forgive our earlier stutter, my darling,” he said, then leaned forward to press his plump lips to the point where your clavicle dipped. “I assume by now you know the effect you have on us.” He kissed you again, this time upon your bare shoulder. “Especially when you present yourself in such an outfit.”

Just a sigh escaped your lips, Crowley’s finger ran along your side, pulling a short yip from your throat that he quickly swallowed by fitting his mouth over yours. From there, they moved like they shared one mind, like they knew you inside and out because, really, they did.

The couch creaked quietly as Crowley dragged your barely-clothed cunt over their thighs, earning them a drawn-out moan like a symphony to their ears, and Aziraphale’s grip came up to hold the back of your neck steady as he pressed kiss after kiss to anywhere he could reach; your throat; your chest; your shoulder; your arm. They moved you about like their own little doll, so familiar and fine tuned with your reactions they knew they would happen before they did. Sparks erupted like flint on stone within the pit of your belly when, eventually, Crowley pulled you forward at a slightly new angle and your clit caught wonderfully upon a hitch in Aziraphale’s trousers. You tilted your head back and released a long moan, barely able to keep yourself up when you were suddenly worked to hit that spot over and over again.

“Ah…!” you mewled as Aziraphale nipped ever so softly at the exposed skin of your shoulder. Your arms trembled as you struggled to keep your hold on their shoulders. “Oh, right there, boys, right there. Keep going, please don’t stop…!”

Crowley’s lips tilted up into a crooked smirk, slitted eyes drinking you in like a forbidden liquor he’d been dying for since he first heard of it. “I hardly think you need to go out there at all, angel,” he said to Aziraphale beside him. “We’ve got our own show right here.”

You worked your hips along with Crowley’s push and pull, offering more and more of your skin to your angel for him to mark and lavish, feeling yourself approach that cliff they so loved to drag you off again and again. You never feared the fall; you knew they would always be waiting to catch you before you hit the bottom.

Small, whimpered noises escaped your throat as you chased your released upon their thighs, your clit rubbing and catching perfectly against their trousers like this was exactly what they were made for. Lips were showering your skin with love and affection. Hands were anchored securely to your waist. You were held so intensely, so beautifully, that it only took a few words from the tip of Crowley’s tongue to send you reeling toward your end.

“Come on and sin for us, love.”

Your orgasm came hard and fast, racking your body with trembles and twitches you couldn’t control, with bursts of color in your vision like fireworks, like guns firing off beside your ears with smoke that would blind you for days. You felt your release stain the fabric of their pants, and it was the last thing you really minded before all but collapsing against the pair. Hands, arms, mouths caught you securely, rubbing along your back, holding you tight, gently kissing along your face. You felt them pull away for just a moment to meet each other for a deep, passionate kiss before returning to smothering you with adoration.

It was an idyllic few seconds, the quiet that came after an explosion of a moment such as that, before there came a sharp, rattling knock against the dressing room door. “Pick up the pace, Mister Fell,” came the voice of the madame of the theater. “We’ve got an audience waiting, and the war’s not getting any better these days!”

You groaned softly, nestling your face into Aziraphale’s neck as he stroked your hair and called in return, “Ah, yes, of course. We’ll be right out!”

You wanted nothing more than to not go up on the damned West End stage, to smile and twist in your glittery costume and tease the soldiers in the audience like you hadn’t just gotten your world rocked within an inch of your life. And yet… everything came to an end. You whimpered again when your angel gently shifted you off of him, placing you temporarily in Crowley’s hold, before getting to his feet and gently snapping his fingers. You felt the dampness across your demon’s thigh fade into nothingness, along with the slick between your legs. Your hair righted itself to its former do, and the smudged lipstick across your mouth was once more perfected. When you lifted your head, however, you noticed Crowley had elected to keep the messy imprint of your lips across the corner of his mouth.

He noticed you looking and gave you a sly, crooked grin. “I like to wear my trophies,” he said before pulling your head close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Come along now, gorgeous. Don’t want to keep the fans waiting.”

Shakily, you got to your feet, struggling momentarily to stand on your heels. While your heart slowed its racing pulse and the heat gently ebbed from your cheeks, Aziraphale lifted your feathered headband from before and tucked it securely over your hair.

“There’s our darling,” he murmured, smiled softly down at you, then tilted up your chin to press a light, though nonetheless loving kiss upon your swollen lips. “Are you ready?”

You took a breath, straightened yourself out, and nodded your head. “I am now, I think,” you replied.

“Perfect,” said your angel. “Because I’ve got a bullet to catch.”

#good omens #good omens smut #good omens aziraphale #good omens x reader #good omens crowley #good omens fanfiction #good omens x you #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x you #crowley x you #aziraphale #crowley #crowley smut #Aziraphale smut

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noose-lion · 5 months

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Maybe it was just my childhood special interest in martial arts and combat, but the bsd fandom drives me absolutely crazy on how they talk about the characters.

Specifically in combat abilities, fighting 'stats', body builds, ect. ect.

I mostly blame the anime, because it made everyone into twigs, but still. Some of my fellow fans out there are sometimes outright drawing lines over a character in a manga panel and going 'Look at this snatched waist' all the while ignoring basic perspective and forshortening rules. Chuuya is victim to this a fuckton.

For a starting example I'll talk about Kunikida. (Because if I start with Dazai or Chuuya I'll get the "He's petite it's not a crime to call him that" hecklers again).

Because remember folks, no need to get heated about fictional characters that were made up to tell a story.

Kunikida is a martial artist. He has a strong center of gravity, and a great deal of muscle mass. He's shown, (even in the anime mind you), to be competent against opponents who have both the height and mass advantage (that one time he swapped with Dazai mid fight, doing the cool grappling hook switch thing). He's a tall guy and he's drawn in the main manga as very broad shouldered and thick limbed. He's your average combat driven male. Built like a boxer.

He's not really the main talking point I see though. He's usually never called petite or delicate or any of the, quite frankly, ridiculous descriptors for a man of his size and build. It's usually Chuuya and in extension Dazai.

First off, ripping the bandaid off quick and easy. Chuuya isn't petite. (Sure technically petite only means short, but ancient also technically only means old. It's about the connotation.)

Chuuya is also a martial artist. Unlike Kunikida, who relies heavily on grappling technique and using his opponents own momentum and mass against them (a defensive fighter) Chuuya is almost purely offensive (most defense being left to his ability). His center of gravity is less stagnate, more fluid. He's acts quickly, crushing his opponent with efficient and well calculated brute force. Chuuya's body build reflects this. He's got a strong torso and thick limbs, strong shoulders that are lined with cords of muscle that absorb the impact of his attacks. He uses his legs a lot, kicks and jumps, and there is muscle concentration in his thighs and calves as a result. In the main manga, he's drawn with a lean torso, broader shoulders and thicker thighs. He's got a baseball player or a mixed martial artist build. (Broad shoulders and large thighs paired with his choice of suit cut is what creates his 'hourglass figure' so many of yall are obsessed with.)

Second bandaid I'm ripping off. Dazai isn't weak or delicate or whatever, but he is not buff or a tank either. And against men built for combat like Kunikida and Chuuya he's at a fairly large disadvantage.

Most of the athletic ability we've seen Dazai exhibit is evasion based. In the main manga he's drawn broad shouldered and thin, usually cloaked by his coat. Dazai has lean, muscle concentration in his shoulders, upper back and core. He doesn't have the thicker limbs of a boxer or martial artist. He better resembles a swimmer, gymnast, or even rock climber. He's not a stick, as flat as he may be. He's also probably a good deal softer then his martial artist counterparts, not living the stricter healthy life style most martial artist adhere to. Dazai doesn't do well against large heavily muscled opponents, he just doesn't have the needed mass for it. If he doesn't get the upperhand quickly he will loose. Evident in how he struggled so much against that one guy he did the cool grappling hook swap thing with Kunikida.

All this to say, almost every individual in bsd is built for their combat filled life, specialized to fit their fighting styles. It's not a big deal, but I find such thinking and analysis fun.

#inkedmyheart's recent post had me once more thinking on this #bsd #my stuff #screaming into the void #and the void screams back #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #soukoku #jester thinks #bsd meta #bsd analysis #bsd headcanon #bsd headcanons

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sillysowa · 9 months

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Ask and you shall receive, my lovelies!

ALL MINE!

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X PLUSSIZED!FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT! PWP

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

WARNINGS: NON DESCRIPTIVE BODY SHAMING, FACESITTING, FACE RIDING, VAGINAL SEX, BODY WORSHIP

AUTHORS NOTE: I TRIED MY ABSOLUTE BEST TO WRITE ABOUT AN EXPERIENCE THAT I AM NOT INCREDIBLY FAMILIAR WITH, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF ANY OF MY REPRESENTATION OR CONTENT IS OFFENSIVE OR INACCURATE! I WAS NOT COMFORTABLE WITH WRITING DESCRIPTIVE BODY SHAMING. SORRY IF THIS SEEMS AT ALL RUSHED, BEEN HELLA BUSY!

SYNOPSIS: YOU SURPRISE YOUR BOYFRIEND HOBIE AT HIS BIGGEST CONCERT YET, ONLY FOR SOME GROUPIES TO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE SHIT, BUT HOBIE DOESN’T LET THAT SLIDE—OH AND HE FUCKS THE SHIT OUT OF YOU LATER!

—

Today was a big day. Hobie and his band are going to have a concert at their biggest venue yet, and you’re going to surprise him in the crowd. Originally, you and Hobie were pretty bummed because you had plans that day already, and you were almost positive that you wouldn’t be able to get the day off—but turns out you were wrong. Without telling Hobie, you managed to clear up your day completely, and get VIP floor tickets to the show. You had even gone shopping for a concert outfit that would make you look amazing under the concert lights. You are incredibly confident in your body and how it looks, and you really wanted to show it off.

It was the night of, Hobie left earlier, obviously disappointed that you wouldn’t be there but still understanding that your schedule was busy. The smell of his cologne when he bent down to kiss you, his guitar over his shoulder and his amp in his hands was a sight for sore eyes. The moment he left, you went straight to the nearest mirror and did your makeup, spending all the time necessary to look your absolute best. Finally it was time for the outfit. It was beautiful. It was absolutely everything you wanted and it looked beautiful on you. You couldn’t wait for Hobie to see you, illuminated in the neon lights and done up for him, but you really couldn’t wait for him to fuck you up.

You got to the venue early, making sure you could guarantee that you were front row, and prepared yourself to stand for a very long time. The looks that you were given from the groupies who walked to the VIP line made you roll your eyes. There was always those girls—the tall, stick-thin, bratty—and they always needed to make sure you saw them when they looked at you nastily. You just looked forward, and waited out the time until the doors opened.

When they did, you walked with a quick pace, not running, but definitely not walking. You made your way up to the front row, slightly to the right where Hobie plays—you knew because you saw his guitar propped up. You heard the sound of heels, giggled and snobby sounding voices around you. It was the girls from earlier. They were all around you, and you could hear their whispers. It didn’t get to you before, but god it was starting to get to you now. You tried your best to keep ignoring them when a tall blonde woman who didn’t look like the type to be at a punk-rock concert, leaned over and whispered something gut-wrenchingly rude in your ear before standing straight and chatting with her friends. You stood there, suddenly incredibly insecure and crushed. Your spirits were high before, but now? Now you just wanted to go home…to Hobie. That was when you remembered why you were here. You were here for Hobie.

When the lights came on, there’s a ruckus all around. The crowd squeezes together uncomfortably, the room growing loud and wild. The girls around you throw insults your way when you don’t move, holding onto the railing tight. The first song started, and you heard a flurry of yells from Hobies bandmates, and then Hobie. A chill raced down your spine like a rollercoaster down its tracks, and Hobie raced onto the stage. He looked amazing—A fishnet top with a leather vest over it, dark blue jeans held up by a spiked belt, as much silver jewelry as he could fit, and messy black eyeliner.

The song was going amazing, Hobies skilled fingers that you loved oh so much dancing across his guitar as beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his beautiful smile coming out for all to see. Nothing good lasts forever though as when you excitedly jumped with the crowd, the bitchy girl to your right started hurling insults at you. This time you didn’t take it so well. You started questioning her,

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“You, you fucking skank!” She yelled obnoxiously, “Can you fucking move?” She said with the most audacity you had ever seen in your life. Some of her friends laughed, some of them looked at you with a nasty stare, but you just shook your head,

“I payed for these tickets just like you. I’m just trying to enjoy the show, asshole.” You grunted, facing forward to catch the end of the song and ignoring her when she suddenly shoved you. You stumble for a moment, bumping into the fellow groupie bitches to your left only for them to grunt and get pissy. You turned around, ready to fuck her up when,

“You betta get your grimy hands of my girl.” Hobie spoke into his mic, voice deep and angry. He stared directly into the blonde girl’s soul, causing her to freeze and stare blankly at him, then dumbly point at herself like she wasn’t caught in the act,

“Yeah you, what the fuck do you think you were doin?” He laughs, “Get the hell out of my venue.” He suddenly deadpans, “C’mon, get.” He says, the whole crowd invested and booing the girls. They squeeze out of the crowd and get ushered out by security. You’re incredibly flustered as suddenly there’s a ton of eyes on you, everyone wanting to get a look at the lead guitarists girl.

“Take a peek at my girlfriend, people. Isn’t she lovely? God I can’t wait to tear that outfit off of her later!” Hobie gushes into the mic, his deep voice echoing in the venue. The whole crowd starts cheering and getting hype, the next song starting soon after. You knew you were in for one hell of a night.

—

“Can’t believe you actually came, you cheeky ting.” Hobie smiles as he kisses your neck, your back pressed against the deck of his boat. He had rushed you out of the venue earlier, cock already hard in his jeans and hands all over you,

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Hobie, I love to see you on stage.” You smile, thoughts caught up on what those girls said to you about your body earlier. You wonder if there will ever be a day where you feel confident in your skin without getting torn down by someone. You didn’t notice that you had started tearing up, but Hobie must have noticed because he grabbed your face, your eyes refocusing on him while he’s on top of you,

“Who the fuck were those girls?” He suddenly asks, his tone dead serious,

“Just some random groupies I think.” You say dismissing any conversation that might come up about what had gotten you in a fight with them, but sure enough,

“What caused that scene, love?” He questioned, head tilting and deep eyes analyzing your every move and facial expression—nothing gets past Hobie—especially not things like this,

“They…they made a couple comments about my weight.” You admit, trying to move past it as soon as possible.

“And that’s got you bothered?” He asks, already knowing the answer,

“No.”

“No?” Hobie asks, “I don’t buy that—you’ve got that distant look in your eyes doll. Do I need to remind you just how beautiful you are cause I have no problem doing that.” Hobie whispers, voice growing seductive and needy as he kisses your shoulder, his hands dipping down to cup your pussy. When you shudder and sigh, he chuckles, kissing you and suddenly flipping you both, you on top of him. Hobies strength never ceases to amaze you, and you’re even more amazed when he gently lifts you by your hips, sliding himself to be level with your cunt,

“Sit on my face baby, want your sweet pussy~” Hobie grunts, licking his lips and tearing your underwear off. You gasp and cry out when he pulls your hips down, eating you out like he’s gone mad. You rock your hips into his face, your clit bumping against his nose,

“…So pretty…so fucking good…and all mine…” Hobie grunts while he eats you out, his face buried between your legs and his eyes crazed. The warmth and wetness between your legs drives you crazy, panting and moaning as you thrust your hips against him. Hobies fingers grip your thighs, tongue fucking you while his nose rubs your clit. You feel your orgasm coming, and you can barely warn Hobie,

“I-I’m gonna…” You moan, your hands in his hair, looking down at him. Hobie just speed up his ministrations, hungry for you. When you cum, you shake and whimper, the sound of Hobie’s grunts and slurping overstimulating you almost instantly.

“Hobie~” You whine, writhing to get off of him when he finally gives in, gently helping you get positioned under him. He kisses you passionately, one finger under your chin. The kiss is full of love and passion, and Hobie kisses all the way down your body, whispering how much he loves the things about you that no one else has seen. How much he loves the things about your body that are truly unique, and the things about your body that you might not truly love. Hobie loves it all.

He undoes his belt, the sounds sending need straight to your core,

“I love you baby, y’know that?” He whispers,

“Yeah…I do.” You say, breathless,

“Let me show you, baby.” He groans, lining his tip up with your entrance and gently thrusting in. You wince at the size of his cock in you, and Hobie groans, his head dripping down beside you,

“You feelin’ good doll? Does that hurt?” He grunts out, his hands gripping the wood underneath you. The night is cold out on the water with you and Hobie all alone, and the feeling of him inside you is like heaven. You gasp out into the dark sky as Hobie fucks you, whimpering,

“Feels perfect, Hobie~”

His cock stretches your walls, his moans of how beautiful and pretty you are etched into your skin with each kiss. Your thighs shake and tremble and your head spins from all the praise, Hobie fucking you into the floor.

“You like that? Yeah? Good girl baby so good f’me just keep giving me those pretty moans baby” He moans, kissing you as he speeds up. He’s fucking you with reckless abandon, the boat even slightly shaking. He pulls away from the kiss panting wildly and throwing his head back as he thrusts into you. The noises that spill from your lips are animalistic, and your pussy squeezes around him,

“Hobie!” You whimper, your hands shaking on his back.

“Come on, cum for me luv.” He groans, kissing you deeply as you moan into his mouth. Your eyes widen and then roll into the back of your head, the sounds of both your skin slapping resonating around you. Hobie speeds up impossibly faster and you cum—seeing stars as you squirt all over him. Almost directly after, Hobie spills his cum deep inside you. You can feel the twitching of his cock and the warmth of his semen inside you. Tears spill out of your eye, Hobie breaking the kiss to wipe them away. His thumbs smoothing over your face. Hobie pulls out of you and scoop you up, bringing you to his bed and cleaning you up softly—the whole time whispering sweet praises to you and kissing every inch of your skin for the last time that night. Hobie cleans himself off, helps you into one of your sleep shirts that you left on the boat last time, and slips into bed behind you, holding you all through the night.

No one will ever tear down your self esteem with Hobie around. He was sure of it.

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x you #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown angst #spiderman #silly’s fics

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motherfuckingmaneater · 6 months

Text

Book Bellatrix is (part one):

Very tall. Taller than all three of the trio according to Harry when Hermione uses polyjuice to turn into her.

Quick. She’s able to stun four snatchers at once even when they’re in an uproar against her. They all ‘fell where they stood’ suggesting they didn’t even have time to stop her. Greyback is also restricted before he can even try to stop her and bound and kneeling at her feet.

Still very attractive after Azkaban again according to Harry despite that she makes his stomach lurch every time he looks at her.

Has ‘very long rippling black hair’ that’s not curly. It’s still rippling but now it’s become slightly coarse rather than silken and shiny like it was before Azkaban.

Bloodthirstier. She interrogates Griphook and when she’s satisfied with his answer she casually flicks her wand to cut him deep in the face then doesn’t even look back at him as he falls to his knees and screams in agony.

Thin. Not gaunt looking like she was right after her release from Azkaban but that’s part of why she’s so intimidating. She’s tall and thin.

Violent. She hit Ron across the face (just to get him to shut up) so hard his mouth was filled with blood and the sound was so loud it echoed around the room. She’s so violent it seems second nature.

Low (almost sultry) and disdainful in her baritone / voice. I always read her lines in Angelina’s Maleficent voice.

Not thin lipped! Just puts her lips into a line or purses her lips from time to time.

Feared and revered even amongst the goblins of gringots who ‘do not get involved in wizarding issues’.

Has an outright ‘malevolent aura’. So much so she’s never questioned or affronted. All along Diagon alley people were quickly stealing away from her to hide, too terrified of her to stick around.

Known to be closest to Voldemort even in public and non-pureblood circles.

Terrifying. She’s described as ‘frightening, mad’ when she’s screaming orders — so much so even her own sister who had been reluctant to do as she wants does so anyway. Even Fenrir Greyback is scared of her. When she finally releases him he ‘appeared too weary to approach her’ and would rather ‘prowl behind an armchair’ than get too close to Bellatrix.

Physically strong. Certainly strong enough to drag Hermione by her hair into the middle of the room. Strong enough to throw off Lucius’ attempt to grasp her and capture him herself in her grasp.

Ruthless. ‘If she dies under questioning, I’ll take you next. Blood traitor is next to mudblood in my book.’ Something she tells Ron after she’s hit him. She’s also incredibly calm when she’s being violent or hurting people. She doesn’t think twice on it.

A natural leader. She takes charge in most situations. She gives orders easily and she doesn’t care who she’s giving them to. She tells Draco to ‘move this scum outside. If you haven’t got the guts to finish them then leave them in the courtyard for me.’ When indicating to the snatchers she left unconscious.

#maneater 𓆗⋆｡˚ character study.#book Bellatrix is superior #canon Bellatrix is such a badass idk why fanon Bella is so popular #bellatrix black #bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix black lestrange #the most noble and ancient house of black #lord voldemort #harry potter and the deathly hollows #hp books #maneaters headcanons and studies

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codgod · 8 months

Text

y’know generally i try to limit colour palettes to as few colours as possible to make things more cohesive but despite my best efforts only jay ended up being able to stick to that </3

ANYWAYS here’s the as-of-right-now fully updated designs for these dickheads. these will no doubt undergo even more tweaking as i draw them more but this is a start i guess. also pls open the pictures to look at them properly i worked so hard LOL

some random notes under the cut yaaaay

chip —

he jingles when he walks. somehow he’s still stealthy. i do not know how

kept the platinum ring that bonded him to gillion in the block! because hey he doesn’t really have a reason to take it off (and it’s a nice reminder of how much gill cares about him, and how far their friendship has come since that ice arena)

his tattoos shift and flicker like actual flames, and sometimes (harmless, purely aesthetic) sparks fly off them when he’s excited

i just think smoke coming out of his mouth when he’s angry would be cool :]

chipped teeth from biting rocks and coins all the time :/

he has scars from the red lightning, they’re just mostly contained to his back and shoulders. they’re a similar red to his coat even once they’ve healed

gillion —

the tail sleeve thing is so he can rest it on the ground without damaging his scales, he doesn’t usually wear it when he’s just on the ship because the wood is soft enough that it’s usually fine + it can hinder swimming a bit. it’s mostly meant for places where there’s cobblestone or gravel streets and such. i think his armour would probably have a version that looks similar but covers the whole tail minus the fins, maybe with some armour plating of its own. i didn’t draw it because there wasn’t any room lol

his scars from the lightning are pink mostly because red stood out too much tbh. they softly glow in the dark the same as his coral and the pink parts of his fins

also kept his ring! his hands aren’t really made for jewellery, though, because the webbing means it won’t sit very secure on his finger. so he keeps it on the same chain as the necklace he got from aslana to keep it safe

tried to make him look a bit bulkier and more his age than in my original design? i feel like i was leaning too much into the naivety and. shortness. originally lol. he also has thicker eyebrows now and i’m still trying to decide how i feel about them but i think? i like it? i don’t tend to give many character thin eyebrows so it could’ve been a unique thing for him but alas

i think i made the sword too small but like ignore that

also forgor to include pretzel </3 that’s okay though she can get her own design sheet later. she’s special like that

jay —

i believe in tall jay supremacy

blue magic! i was considering gold but that’d look a bit more like a canary than i wanted for her wings so. blue jay :]

her hair is supposed to look kinda like fire to mimic her dad ! kinda showing that even if she runs from her family and the navy they’ll always be a part of her. and also i just like drawing messy hair

i gave her sturdier gloves just because i feel like it fits her better. also changed up the shirt to more of a button up solely because i don’t like tank tops very much LOL

i did WANT to make her outfit a bit flashier to match the boys better but i couldn’t quite figure out where to Put the flash. maybe that’ll come later, the way the story’s going i might get to design some cool prosthetics for her or something

overall —

because there’s just so many fucking colours i triiied to add at least one or two colours from each of them into the others designs. jay has her necklace with each of their main colours on it, her wings are the same blue as gillions eyes, her jacket and right eye are the same dark blue as destiny’s blade, her hair is the same orange as the lighter part of chips tattoos. chip has a dark green sash under all the belts, the same as the hilt of destiny’s blade. they all use the same shades of black, gold, and brown

the only real exception is gillion doesn’t have anything from the other two because he has Such a specific colour palette and he already had so much going on as-is orz jay was obviously the easiest to do this with because she has both warm and cool colours in her palette by default lol (and i did her design last, so that helps)

#.png #jrwi #jrwi riptide #just roll with it #jrwi chip #gillion tidestrider #jay ferin #jrwi spoilers #THEYRE FINALLY DONE zoo wee mama #the lines are thicker on the little armour drawings because i did the sketch thing and then went yk what. good enough. and just coloured tha #also got rid of gills button nose it was too annoying to draw #i’m so used to straight and aquiline noses #another thing that could’ve been unique for him in terms of my character designs #but nah #pls ignore that i drew them all standing on diff planes/angles btw i wasn’t trying very hard w that #weirdly proud of myself for managing to give them all pretty unique profiles #that’s normally something i kinda get stuck on. drawing people from the side #in different ways besides nose shape

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blackswan446 · 3 months

Text

thief

→ pairing: yan!jjk x reader

→ synopsis: in which a girl's purse gets stolen by an unlikely thief.

→ wc: 3167

→ cws: mentions of getting raped/murdered (not implied to have happened/will happen, more acknowledging that it could have happened), implied smut at the end

→ notes: aaa i hope you guys like it!!!

—

the sound of quiet chatter buzzed in the atmosphere. as you ascended the stairs leading to the subway station, the brisk evening air hit your face, leaving a bitter kiss on your exposed cheeks and prompting you to adjust your fuzzy white scarf to sit just a little bit above your nose.

you walked hurriedly, eager to get out of the cold and home to the hot shower and sofa that had been calling your name all day. your job, an assistant to the director at a small, ordinary insurance company was just that; ordinary. there was little to no substance to your work, and the most exciting topics of discussion were whose kids were getting married and what type of sweets were sitting in the break room. as mundane as it was, you appreciated the routine of it. your boss was like every other, your fellow office ladies treated you well, and it put food on the table, so who were you to complain?

as you strayed further and further from the subway exit, and strolled through more isolated and empty streets, you quickened your pace and stood up straighter, sticking close to the white glow of the streetlights. though the neighborhood you lived in was fairly safe and quiet, things still happened. glancing at the dark houses surrounding you, you kept walking, soles hitting the concrete with a soft thud with every step you took.

you were snapped out of your thoughts of dinner and a movie when you noticed something at the end of the street. more accurately, someone. their tall, shadowy figure contrasted sharply with the brightness of the streetlight they stood under, and it was only drawing closer to you. sticking your hands deep into your pockets and averting your eyes from the dark silhouette of the man that was moving in your direction, you took a deep breath and tried to clear your mind of the anxious thoughts that began to cloud the serene skies of your psyche.

calm down. not everybody you see out at night is a murderer.

the man, who you could now see was donning a black face mask and matching black hoodie, walked with slumped posture and his hands hanging sadly by his side. despite his depressing stance, he was very obviously a good bit taller than you and had a full, strong, build. in other words, he could, without a doubt, pick you up and shove you into a car with ease no matter how hard you fought back. a chill ran down your spine at the very thought, and as you finally passed by him, you silently prayed to every single god, goddess, and deity in the sky as he whooshed by. your relief, which was sweet and comforting, pushed the anxiety out of your body and wrapped you up in a warm hug as he left your peripheral vision.

that was, until you felt a strong yank on your purse from behind.

your stomach lurched at the sudden movement. the force, which was strong enough to rip your hand from the warmth of your pocket, pulled your arm backwards far enough to almost make you fall over. you felt the thin leather strap of your purse slide off your coated arm, past your shaking hand and into the grasp of the man you had just seen.

he took off down the street with loud, thumping, footsteps. it was in this very moment in time, this exact millisecond, you messed up, bad.

fueled by adrenaline, and without doing any logical thinking, you raced after him, heart pumping wildly in your chest as you struggled to catch up with him. your bag, which was a bright and bold red color, stuck out amongst the darkness of his outfit and the night around you, and, from this point of view, looked more like a big target rather than a cool accessory.

your forehead broke out into an uncomfortable sweat as you continued after him. the man had stamina, you'd give him that. it was unsurprising to you, based on the sole fact that he looked like he spent most of his life at the gym, but you had to give him credit. this man could run.

your lungs, which were screaming for a break by this point, were on the verge of collapse. your feet ached from how hard they were hitting the ground, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. a sharp, sudden, pain struck you in your side, the same type of pain you'd get after running for too long on the playground as a kid. and a hard lump sat in the back of your throat, thick and painful as you tried to swallow the saliva in your mouth. you could feel yourself staggering, quickly losing your pace and letting him get ahead. he, on the other hand, looked like he could do this for days, his strides long and even, his posture now perfect, and his speed unmatched.

your entire body protested, sending you more than enough signals that it was time to stop, but your mind persisted, urging you to keep going and reclaim what was yours. just when you were about to give up, one of the gods you had prayed to earlier finally woke up, saw your situation, and decided to grant you some mercy. whether it was true mercy or disdain in disguise, was a question without a clear answer. this action manifested in the form of the thief in front of you turning a corner into what you understood to be a long, narrow, alleyway.

though you were grateful that he was now cornered and stuck, you couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen to go down there. it was fairly obvious by the trashcans and dumpsters that this wasn't a traveled and open road, but a dead end, a guaranteed end to a glorious race in which he would come out to be the loser. why did he choose to take this route?

ignoring your own confusion, you gasped for air after your sprint and wondered if it was even worth it. this was the very situation you had been warned about your entire life, one that plagued your mind on nights such as this one and added to the endless worries already stuck in your mind. and besides, by now, the slimy perp had probably jumped whatever fence was at the back of the alley and could very well be in the next town over by now.

accepting your defeat and resigning to your fate of having to replace almost everything you owned, you started to turn away from the shady alley and start back towards your house, still struggling to get a full breath of air into your burning lungs. you paused when you heard quiet footsteps from behind you. before you could actually react, you felt a strong hand land on your right shoulder and pull you backwards, almost making you stumble onto the ground. the person's other hand tightly grasped the upper left quadrant of your arm, pulling you closer to their chest.

you shrieked, flailing your one free arm and trying to step on their foot in an attempt to loosen their grip. they took the hand off your shoulder and instead clasped it over your mouth, silencing your screams as they gently guided you to walk into the dark and mysterious alley. over the pounding of your heart, which was loud and banging in your ears, you could hear some mumblings of what sounded like gentle and quiet praise, which is the last thing you would've expected from somebody who had just robbed you and forced you into an alley.

he slowly led you to the back of the creepy passage, not bothering to be rough or abrasive in the process. upon observation, you didn't see much besides trash and puddles of murky water. what stuck out to you was really your purse. instead of it being dumped out, open, or otherwise discarded lazily, it was instead sitting neatly in a dry part of the alley, away from any garbage or liquids. it looked like it had been placed there with care and concern, which further puzzled you on what this guy's intentions were.

you finally stopped walking, the man behind you removing the large hand that gripped your arm. before he removed the hand from over your mouth, he leaned in closer to your ear, close enough for you to feel his breath on your neck and smell the sweet cologne on his skin. "you'll be quiet for me, right? you won't scream or yell?" he asked, sending a shiver down your back. his voice was deep and masculine yet still, somehow, soft and kind. you nodded shakily, too scared to act out of line and subject yourself to more pain than you were already in for.

slowly taking his hand away from your dry mouth, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. he took both of his hands and sat them upon your shoulders once again, guiding you to sit down against a rough brick wall. pushing you to the ground, you sank down with your knees tight against your chest, shivering from the cold, damp, pavement. at this point, his tall figure was towering over you, causing your heart to sink down to your stomach and making your hands sweat. so many thoughts ran though your head, seeping into your mind like red ink on a clean white shirt.

the man, who has busied himself with removing his mask and pulling his hood slightly back, knelt down right in front of you. if you didn't know any better, you would've mistaken this man for a celebrity, based on looks alone. you hated yourself for thinking so, but he was undeniably and undoubtedly the most handsome man you had ever seen in your whole life. his face was angelic, which was ironic seeing as this man was the furthest thing from a symbol of heaven that you had ever met. his eyes, instead of being dark, beady, and lifeless, were round and bright. his pupils glinted in the light of the streetlamp outside the alley, despite the distance between the two. his nose was smooth and sharp, and his lips were thin but still nice, adorned with a shiny ring on the bottom left. his hair, which partially stuck out of his black hood, was cut into a chic and modern mullet-like style. no, there was no denying that this man was handsome, but all that glitters is not gold, and that was more than obvious in this situation.

overwhelmed and scared, you couldn't control the tears that fell from your eyes and rolled onto your cheeks. a look of sadness and concern crossed the man's face, and he looked almost confused to see your emotional response. "don't cry, sweetheart, why're you crying?" he said affectionately, reaching out and wiping the tears that stained your face with his thumb. "hey, now...you don't have to cry. it's just me." he murmured, as if that would bring you any sort of comfort.

he sighed, and put his hands on your knees, which were the only thing in between you two. you shrunk back, as if you could get any further away from him. "don't hurt me. please, don't hurt me." you whispered desperately, voice quivering. he raised his eyebrows, surprised. "hurt you?! oh darling, you've got it all backwards." he cooed, half-smiling at you and your fear. "i'd never hurt you."

you exhaled shakily, still trembling under his continued touch on your knees. "princess, i understand that you're scared, but you don't need to be, alright? it's me, don't you remember me?" he asked, his thumbs making mindless little patterns on the fabric of your flared work pants. you looked at him, more confused than scared. remember him from where? was he an old classmate or coworker?

he picked up on your bewilderment, and smiled coolly. "oh, that's alright. we haven't seen each other for a while, and i guess you didn't really know about me." he said, "it's me, jungkook, from high school!" he exclaimed, his smile now wide and full. the name rang a bell, and you remembered seeing the young boy in passing sometimes. he wasn't someone you ever interacted with, you didn't know any friends of his and in general you didn't have anything to do with each other.

the look of realization that passed over your face didn't go unnoticed by him either, and he chuckled as he watched your thoughts unfold. "you remember me now?" he questioned, only to get no response from you. he sighed again, eyes wandering down your body and back up within a second. "man, highschool seems so long ago now. i was broke, and lonely, and head over heels for you--well, that part hasn't changed at all." he reminisced. your face contorted, from fear to visible confusion, and you managed to utter out one word. "what?"

he laughed softly, almost in disbelief. "yeah, it's true. from the minute i saw you, actually. you were--and still are--so bright, and beautiful, and kind...i wasn't exactly someone that you would hang around with. i was a loser, i was boring and awkward. but i still held onto you and kept you in my heart. i even made a promise to myself that one day, i'd get you all for myself, and...here we are." he said, beaming from ear to ear.

the world around you began to spin as you processed what he had just told you. what was he talking about, get you all to himself? how creepy! he didn't seem to think so, though. in fact, he seemed to have a sick and sinister sense of pride, a twisted feeling of confidence and an idea of love that had been twisted inside out and covered in a thick, sticky, coat of tar.

"why are you doing this?" you choked out, more tears threatening to leak from your eyes. he laughed at your inquiry, as if you had just asked the most obvious question known to mankind. "why am i doing this? oh, babe, you're so clueless, and that's exactly why. see, even though you are the most perfect and flawless girl in my eyes, you're just so...vulnerable. that's not anything to be ashamed of, darling, if anything, it's what i love most about you. you've never excelled in watching your surroundings or being careful, especially when we were younger. it was only a matter of time before something bad happened to you, i mean, look at you now! you need someone who can protect you from the danger that you would inevitably find yourself in, and that's where i come in." he explained calmly, stroking your hair gently as he did so.

the tears that stuck in your waterline ran down your face like raindrops on glass, smearing the black mascara you had put on earlier that morning. he scowled and wiped your tears once again. "oh, baby..." he whispered. without any warning or notice, he pushed one of your knees away from the other and slid forward, placing himself between your legs, so that they were wrapped around either side of his torso. despite your efforts to push him away, you were no match for him.

before you could move your head or pull away, jungkook leaned more forward and pressed his lips into yours. the kiss, while being gentle and sweet, also felt fiery and desperate. taking your bottom lip in between his teeth and slipping his tongue in your mouth, one of his hands shot to your waist and pushed you back into the wall, stilling your movements. the other hand reached up and cupped your face, angling your head in an attempt to reach further into your mouth.

despite everything in your brain, everything you had ever been warned about and against, everything that you had learned, a teeny, tiny part of your brain couldn't ignore how his lips against yours felt so good, so natural and safe, so right. every one of your instincts were telling you that this was more than a bad idea. these feelings also came with the gut-wrenching realization that jungkook was right. you were vulnerable, obviously, this man had just mugged you, led you into a dark alley where he could have easily raped or murdered you, and here you were making out with him?!

you couldn't stop the hand that flew to his bicep to pull him closer, and you felt him smirk against your swollen lips. his hands traveled from where they were to the buttons of your shirt, busying themselves with undoing the smooth plastic buttons. that was, until a police car sped past the alley, sirens and all, startling the both of you.

jungkook pulled away from your lips, sitting up and admiring the shade of purple that began to ghost your plump lips. you readjusted yourself, sitting up a bit straighter and avoiding his piercing gaze. "such a good girl...complain and cry all you want, my love, but something's telling me that you're more on board with this than you're willing to admit." he teased, a playful smile crossing his lips. "come on, you can say it. you want to come home with me, right? come on, i want you to tell me. you can do it." he prodded, stroking your cheek with his hand lovingly.

you nodded quietly, eyes glued to the ground, face pink and flushed.

hook, line and sinker.

he was definitely happy with you and your compliance, but he couldn't help but be both concerned and relieved at the same time. sure, you were vulnerable and overly-trusting, he knew that. but he expected a little more fight, even from you. his heart broke a little bit, at the thought of you being oh-so damaged that you fold the second he put his lips to yours. you poor little thing.

he knew you'd fall right into his little trap, he knew how you'd chase after him, he knew that you'd be scared. he knew you so well, yet you had still managed to shock him entirely. your trustful nature came as a surprise to him. and now, as the power to entirely destroy you sat in his tattooed hands, he had a choice to make.

did he stick to his original plan, and swear to keep you safe and happy, or did he

absolutely

ruin

you?

though he came here with pure intentions, the sinister opportunities that rested in front of him were too good to pass up. after all, he could always built you back from the ground up, couldn't he?

and now, within a split second, you went from a little lamb that had found her safe haven to one being led to its slaughter. lifting your chin slowly and meeting your eyes, jungkook gave you a sweet, innocent, smile and caressed your cheek.

"now, how about we finish what we've started?"

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #yandere jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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poppurini · 1 year

Text

him as a private tutor

leona, jade, malleus, lilia & gn reader

magicless au, platonic, for fun

˖ leona kingscholar

“Just Leona. Let me see your textbook.” no introductions or anything, just straight to the point. probably doesn’t ask for your name since he already knew. yes he didn’t prepare anything beforehand, no flipping through your syllabus before the actual tutoring because this man just skims through your textbook under twenty minutes and started teaching. yes he’s good at it. unfair, really. sometimes he’ll get a generational shock at the current syllabus though. “The hell are kids learning these days.” “Do you even need these in real life.”

he may seem like an indolent man (and he is) but it’s honestly so impressive of him to be able to understand your syllabus the moment he reads through them and being able to teach you about it.

strictness is 4/10 he doesn’t really care if you didn’t do the homework he assigned bc he’s not gonna be the one failing those exams that determines 70% of your future. yes those were his exact words. he might nag you a little but after that nothing’s on him. clocks off right on time.

˖ jade leech

this mf whips out a whole stack of 9cm tall worth of exercises for you because he thinks it’s funny. eerily friendly. might unintentionally make you feel a little dumb when he does that little inhale and tilts his head slightly, looking genuinely confused as to how you could get this question wrong. wears glasses (i know what jade leech stans are) occasionally. yes those attractive thin framed ones. only when you’re halfway selling off your soul to deal with the mountain of exercises he’s telling you “Oh, you needn’t get all of them completed today.” with that very innocent smile.

strictness is 7/10 he’s scary when he’s strict. might let you off the hook once or twice with incomplete homework (only with valid reasons tho) but afterwards that service smile drops and questions why you’re so reluctant on doing homework. it’s just a 2k word essay. also clocks off right on time even if he’s about to finish teaching a topic he’s not going to provide free labour.

˖ malleus draconia

this man is INSANE literally not one day does he wear a casual outfit to your sessions it’s always professional wear with him. yeaah i’m back with my dress pants dress shirt along with vest plus neat tie malleus only this time he doesn’t have his collar unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up sob sob gotta look clean. intimidating asl but that’s just bc he’s bad at connecting with the younger generations (or anyone, really) however it’s very sweet of him to still try and crack some academic related jokes with a straight face (it’s up to u whether they’re funny or not) hoping you’ll laugh. look he really wants u to open up to him so that u can absorb knowledge better instead of being constantly on edge around him ok

strictness is 9/10 oohlala much like jade he’d close an eye if it’s not a frequent occasion but he demands respect and you constantly putting off the works he assigned to help you clearly shows you don’t think of him as anything. he is patient and nice but only when you deserve it. also he’d delay a maximum of twenty minutes of your time after class ends just to finish talking about the topic.

˖ lilia vanrouge

DEADASS the most fun tutor ever. he’s all malleus ever want to be. bought drinks or snacks on his way and decided to buy you some too (just take it even if the flavours are weird). this man makes you comfortable around him instantly and teaches better than most of your teachers in school. definitely checks out your stationary while you’re suffering in doing matrixes. you can hear him mumbling to himself sometimes “Broo we didn’t even have these back then.” and it’s a squared glue stick. “Can you link me where you got this.” also THE most patient tutor and he won’t even let you feel bad for making him explain the same thing for the nth time. his job is to teach! not scold.

strictness being a 2/10 he’ll still advise you to do your homework but not in a scolding manner. he’ll really gently talk you into doing them for your own good unless you’re outright being disrespectful then the rate changes :p will ask if you want him to continue when the clock strikes end of session. if you don’t, okay! he’ll get back to it next lesson.

#leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #jade leech #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #gn reader

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mlmxreader · 3 months

Text

He's Always Hungry | Eddie Brock/Venom x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Eddie Brock

9 "Why is there blood on your hands?"

53 "Of course I came, you called"

66 "You'd let me get away with murder." "I'd help you hide the body and give you an alibi. Very different things" ❞

: ̗̀➛ Venom is unpredictable, brutal, when he has to be. But he's also gentle, sweet, when he wants to be.

: ̗̀➛ blood, gore, eye torture, swearing

↳ @arthurmorgansballsack

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The floorboards creaked loudly beneath heavy footsteps, protesting loudly with each heavy step that thumped upon the thin wood. Muffled and echoing, a phone buzzed in a hidden pocket; another missed call that made his towering frame shake its great head.

The keys clattered upon the kitchen side, white marble left with a long orange smear in the shape of a clawed hand. The air felt still and stale, as if his very presence made atoms freeze in terror. Hulking and towering, it was difficult to squeeze into the doorframe.

All was quiet, not even the noise in the walls dared to scuttle and squeak. Yet the fire crackled and cracked as it stayed bright and alive; a beacon that shone upon thick black legs that dripped with something dark and sticky.

He could not change back just yet, lugging his heavy body around until he reached the dimly lit room; he paused, almost in tender curiosity as he tilted his head to the side.

Dripping onto the fine wooden floor as he breathed easily, steadily, for once that night; the white eyes followed as he trained his focus upon whoever was sitting with their back to him, legs dangled over the side of the chair and a can of something fizzy and repugnant resting on the coffee table, dripping condensation.

He could smell it, even from his position a few steps away, that fizzy can of poison; his upper lip curled, exposing sharp and jagged yellowish teeth. A sneer, almost a snarl. Shaking his head, he took a few careful steps forward, and dropped to his knees in front of the chair with a thud.

You took immediate notice, furrowing your brows as you looked him up and down.

"Venom," you said softly. "Why is there blood on your hands?"

Venom rested his hands on his thighs, and shrugged. His voice was a deep growl, a soft thunder that crawled up your spine with deft tendrils and made you shiver. "We had to eat."

"Right," you said, nodding along. "And what did you eat, exactly?"

He closed his mouth completely, shaking his head slowly; he couldn't tell you. He couldn't tell anyone. Nobody could ever know. It wasn't that he meant to, well, he did, but he didn't think it would have been so risky.

In short images, Venom could remember it clearly. The tall man with brown hair and a bearded jaw, scars littering his face and his dark brown eyes glittering with something Venom didn't quite understand; Eddie said the tall man was a bad name by the name of Russo. Not even Frank Castle liked him.

Venom had pinned Russo against a damp, dark wall in an alley, licking his lips as he stretched his jaws wide; he didn't think his claws sunk in so deep, until he felt the blood squelch and squish on his skin as he devoured that tall man piece by piece.

Digging through the cavity in the chest to get to the heart; sticking his clawed fingers under the eyes and slowly prying them out. Biting down on them and laughing when they popped in his mouth, spraying blood and juices all over his teeth and tongue.

Venom had enjoyed every bite, every mouthful.

But when Eddie explained that Russo was very well connected, and there would undoubtedly be consequences, Venom knew that he couldn't tell you anything; the less you knew, the easier it would be to protect you.

He swallowed thickly, moving to sit with his legs crossed under his hulking body as he played with the carpet, not even bothering to look at you with those milky, pupilless, eyes.

"Venom," you pressed. "What did you do?"

"I'm here for you," Venom said softly.

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect you to come," you admitted, shaking your head.

A quick glance. "Of course I came, you called."

You glanced back, shaking your head. "You're covered in blood."

"You needed help," he pointed out.

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head again. "I'll be fine. What did you do?"

"Quid pro quo," Venom grinned. He had learned that from a film that Eddie had watched with you.

"Calm down, Hannibal the Cannibal," you growled, although there was a hint of a smile upon your lips as you moved to sit directly opposite him with your back against the chair. "I asked first."

"We ate someone," Venom murmured. "Why did you need help?"

You plucked a stray string from the carpet. "It happened again."

Slowly, he nodded. He knew what it meant, and didn't need further clarification as he cleared his throat, tilting his head to the side and dropping his voice so that it was even quieter than it had been.

A distant rumble, like shells being dropped on the trenches in No Man's Land. He stood, hunched over slightly so that he didn't hit his head on the ceiling light; slowly, he crossed over to the speaker, and switched it on. The sound of 'You're All I Need' by Motley Crue filling the room gently before he sat back down again. He grumbled, blinking slowly at you for a moment.

"You'd let me get away with murder."

"I'd help you hide the body and give you an alibi. Very different things." You chuckled, shaking your head.

"The same," Venom mused, slowly lying down with his back on the carpet, staring at you as his long, thick tongue swiped along his front row of teeth. "We love you."

"I know," you whispered, lying down next to him. "I love you both, too."

"Eddie wants to sing along," he hummed.

"I don't mind," you muttered.

"You're all I need, make you only mine, I loved you so I set you free, I had to take your life, you're all I need, you're all I need," Venom started, his voice becoming mixed and mangled with Eddie's. "And I loved you but you didn't love me. Laid out cold, now we're both alone, but killing you helped me keep you home."

"I guess it was bad, 'cause love can be sad, but we finally made the news," you joined in. "Tied up smiling, I thought you were happy, never opened your eyes, I thought you were napping, I got so much to learn bbout love in this world, but we finally made the news."

Your phone buzzed from its place beside your drink, but you couldn't bring yourself to go and check it; it was a news notification from the local papers, reporting that the police had discovered the body of Billy Russo - or what was left of him.

You looked at Venom with a beaming smile, closing your eyes as you pressed your face to the side of his neck, your hand on his gooey chest. You would stay put.

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soggyriceee · 6 months

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Hey girlie!! So I saw the “I’m fine” one you did with Captain price and I absolute loved! (u’re so creative, it’s impressive) anyway I wanted to ask if you could do something similar for König maybe?

Like how it went after “strawberry” please 🫶🏻

im fine | Konig

summary: request

lowkey sub Konig but like.. he’s topping??? oral(f!recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v, both of you guys are some horny desperate fucks

Konig hadn't touched you for a while. it was becoming more he was scared of you than just not interested in having sex. he wouldn't cuddle you, not unless you explicitly asked. even then he was always tense and sort of standoffish about it. he rarely kissed you, scared he'd grab you for a kiss a way that scared you or made you uncomfortable. he was genuinely scared of you and scared of hurting you.

but you hated that. it made you feel like had you not passed out and said that word, you guys would be good now. but it was too late. the trauma from that night sticking with both of you. and Konig wasn't trying to make it that way. he did often kiss you but very quickly, he would hold your hand but very loosely. hugs were spread thin. he was so upset with himself still, he hadn't realized his distance was disturbing you.

so tonight you had decided to have a sit down conversation with him about it. because you needed more than what you were getting. it was affecting the relationship and your own anxiety tremendously. you needed his touch, romantically ad sexually. it had literally been three months.

you had been on the phone with your friend about this for a while, shopping for dinner tonight. " I think its good to open up about that to him. in my opinion sex plays a major role in a healthy long lasting relationship." she said as you stepped up to the self checkout POS. "I know.. im making a really nice dinner tonight hopefully it will get him to listen more. do you think that'd work?" you asked, tapping your, well his, card.

your friend was extremely supportive of your communication with him about your sex life. she didnt understand the concept of being with one lover. often times she blamed it on her parental issues. but despite her lack of understanding for that, she always tried to give you the best, most logical advice she could. "I think whatever you do, this man will listen to you. I dont think you need to cook a whole meal, but it could help. but hold on, one of my hookups are calling." and quickly the call ended.

the drive home was silent for you. your usual music now paused. you were too caught up in thinking the night over, you were manually driving at this point. you hadn't even fully processed that you were pulling into your driveway until you saw your neighbor wave at you. you smiled, giving a small wave back as you put the car in break.

as you stepped into the house, bags in hand, the house was pretty quiet. Konig was awake when you left, cleaning the kitchen since you had done the shopping. you placed the bags on the kitchen floor, looking around the spacious house for your tall boyfriend. but he wasn't in sight.

instead of putting the groceries away, risking the ice cream melting in the bag, you made your way upstairs, looking at the photos of you an Konig on different vacations you took together. as you reached the bedroom, you heard what would usually turn you on, but this time made you panic. you heard Konigs moans. and another woman.

now, of course, this is a heart stopping moment for anyone. whether it was just porn and physically another woman, he was getting off to another woman. and maybe thats just the thoughts forming from how distant Konig's been recently. but you felt like throwing up in that instant.

but when you softly pushed the door open, your anxiety somewhat smoothed out. the more you opened the door, the more it sounded like you. as the door opened enough for you to see Konig, you were meet with one of the most unholy sights.

on the bed, Konig had his head thrown back, whimpers leaving his slightly parted lips. as you moved down his body, you took into mind the sweat on his neck, his slightly shaking legs and curled toes. and while all of the was hot to you, what was most appealing about this scene was what was in his hands. in his left held his phone, an old video of him pounding into you missionary, focusing on your boobs bouncing up and down as he thrusted into you. in his right h however, was a pair of your red laced panties, his hand moving them up and down his cock.

you let out a quiet whimper at the scene, watching as his hand picked up speed as your voice in the phone cried out "im cumming". it was a bit embarrassing to hear yourself play back, but you didnt care about that. you were too focused on Konig. "m-me too like.. cum with me" he groaned out in response to you in the video, his hips bucking up. as soon as you came in the video, he came too. his hand dropped his phone, gripping onto the sheets instead as his cum covered your panties, some of it seeping through the thin cloth and onto his chest or thighs.

his breath was shaky, eyes slowly opening from the high. he hadn’t realized you in the door yet, so this was your time to escape. but of course, with your luck and horrible timing, your alarm for your birth control went off. you both jumped, your body shifting backwards to leave the room but tripping over your self in the hurry, falling to the floor. “i-i’m so sorry i j-just heard something and wanted to see what it was i -“

Konig quickly stood from the bed, pulling his pajama pants up and walking over to you. “no i’m sorry i shouldn’t have- i should have heard the car.” he lifted you up, walking you to the bed. “is your foot okay? did you land on it weird?” he asked softly, kneeling down to take your shoes off and examine your ankle. “no.. i’m okay.” you replied.

it was silent for a moment, his hand wrapped around your ankle even though he was done checking on you. but after a bit it got uncomfortable and you decided to talk first.

“do i not satisfy you anymore?” you blurted out, swallowing the tears and lump in your throat. his head shot up, shaking it quickly. “no no i just.. i don’t know. everytime i imagine me making a move i get scared you’ll push me away or remember what happened last time and.. i don’t know.” he said, looking down.

again silence filled the room. “i wouldn’t push you away, Konig. it was an accident. and we talked it out the same night. but don’t you see the effect it’s had on us? we barely even kiss now.” you said, looking at his lowered head. “i know.. im sorry libe. i just don’t want to hurt you again.”

he finally looked up at you, head resting on your thigh. his fingers danced up your opposite inner thigh, maintaining eye contact. a blush spread across your face, looking away from him. “what?” he asked softly, stopping right before your clothes pussy. you looked back at him, swallowing. “j-just been a while since you touched me like that. a bit nervous.” you chuckled.

he hummed softly before shifting, his head raising from your thigh. “lay back for me.” he said, raising the dress up your body to your hips. before you could respond, you were gently pushed down, Konigs other hand on your hip. “this is me apologizing.” he said before disappearing between your thighs.

his fingers curled around your panties, pulling them down to your ankles. grabbing either one, he rested them on his shoulder before leaning down, connecting his lips to your pussy. gasping, you closed your eyes.

his tongue ran up and down your slit slowly, circling gently at the clit every time. he moaned into your pussy, hands finding your hips and gripping them firmly. he pulled your clit between his lips, sucking gently as he mixed his saliva and your wetness together. “f-fuck Koni~” you whined, fingers finding his hair.

he groaned at that, using it as motivation to keep fucking your pussy onto his face. “missed this pussy so much mien libe.. tastes so fucking good.” he groaned, moving your hips against his face. his tongue moved around to spell his own name over and over, claiming your pussy as his. but that was a given.

while his tongue abused your swollen clit, his hand snuck under your thigh, allowing two of his long, slim fingers to slide into your cunt. gasping, your back arched slightly off the bed. “y-yes Koni just like that.” you cried out, pulling him deeper into your pussy.

his fingers moved in a “come here” motion in your warm pussy, his tongue still spelling his own name on your clit. your legs slightly raised from off his shoulders, toes curled as he fucked his fingers in you faster.

Konig was so painfully hard at this point, his tip leaking pre cum all over. he was breathing heavy in your pussy, motivated to keep going more and more. “keep going baby.. i’m so close.” you cried, opening your eyes finally to look down at him. he heard you, just was too lost in your pussy to even respond.

your slick covered his fingers, making a light sloppy sound as he pushed them in and out. “hear that libe? pussy is so wet for me. my poor baby needed this so bad didn’t she?” he cooed, opening his eyes to look up at your face, your mouth slightly opened and eyes rolled back. you couldn’t even respond to him, you were too focused on the orgasm coming quick and fast.

your stomach twisted and your pussy clenched around his fingers and he knew you were close. your legs shook a bit more, hands moving to the sheets. “coming Koni i-i’m coming.” you cried, feeling your orgasm shake your whole body.

now since you and Konig hadn’t had much of a sexual life, this orgasm shook your whole body anew. your eyes rolled back, his name rolling off your tongue loudly as your orgasm sprayed on his face. he chuckled, dragging his tongue flat against your pussy. “yea libe that’s it. keep coming for me such a good fucking girl.” he groaned, slowing his fingers down inside your pussy.

your body rested flat on the mattress, legs still shaking gently as you came down from your orgasm. Konig stayed between your legs, licking up the last bit of cum around your pussy. “you taste so good maus.. wanna sample?” he smirked, raising his body to press his lips against yours.

as you both made out, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, pushing them up. his hips humped against yours, feeling his cock press against your pussy. the kiss was deep, passionate. his hand snuck around the side of your neck, gripping it firmly as his tongue danced with yours.

“please Koni.. need you.” you whimpered, thrusting your hips up to meet his. he smirked, pulling away from your lips as a line of saliva connected you both. “i know libe.. need you too.”

he stood, pulling his sweats down to reveal his fully hard cock, tip bright red as pre cum leaked from the tip. his hand gripped it, pumping it while he looked at your shiny pussy. “think it’s ready for me libe? think this tight cunt can take it?” he asked, rubbing his leaking tip against your already wet pussy. you whined, moving up to try and get him to slide even the tip in.

he looked down at you, slapping his cock against your pussy. “want it that bad libe? take it. go on.” he said, repositioning the way he was standing, resting his hands on your knees as your legs were already on either side of his waist.

your hand reached down, pulling him gently into your pussy. he huffed out, gripping your knees as a small gasp left your lips. “oh fuck.” he groaned, closing his eyes as he bottomed out in you. your hips connected, his tip hitting your womb entrance. “come on then.. fuck me.” you said confidently, looking up at him.

he chuckled, looking down to you as his hands slid down your legs to your hips. he slid all the way out your pussy before pushing back in, both of you letting out a whimper. “are you okay?” he asked, sliding back out. you gave him a quick nod, looking up at him. “don’t be a pussy.. come on. fuck me.” you demanded.

he grinned , pushing back in before finding a steady deep pace. your hands found his forearms, gripping them tightly as he plundered into your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. his head threw back, mouth falling open. “missed this pussy so much libe.. takes my cock so well doesn’t it.” he moaned, nails digging into your skin.

“yea? y-you love this pussy h-huh?” yoh moaned, clenching around him. he whimpered a yes, looking down at you. “so much libe.” he whined, picking up the pace slightly. his tip brushed against your womb, making your eyes roll back. konig raised one of his legs, resting his knee on the mattress as he lifted your hips up slightly. of course, this new angle only made the both of you louder.

“fuck it’s so good Koni” you whined, your fingers moving down your body to your swollen clit again. he was so lost in your pussy once again, he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

in fact, his mind was so full of your pussy, he hadn’t even realized how close he actually was to filling you up. “s-so close.. gonna fill this tight pussy up.” he moaned, looking down at you. you both made eye contact, only adding to the sexiness of the moment.

from impulse, your hand reached up to his throat. and this surprisingly got a positive reaction from Konig. “fuck libe.. your so fucking hot. g-gonna make me cum.” he moaned, pounding into you faster. as his hips moved faster against yours, you both felt your orgasms taking over.

“come in me Koni.. please.” you whined, gripping his throat harder. as you did so, his legs shook slightly, feeling all his come shoot out into you. “fuck come on me libe.. c-cum on me please.” he whined, body collapsing over your. his hips kept the pace just enough for you to cum over him as well, body shaking beneath him as your grip on his throat loosened.

both of you laid their peacefully, panting as your orgasms came and went. your eyes shut closed and the last thing you were able to hear from Konig was

“i love you more than i can express.”

aghhhh i hope you all liked this one xoxoxoxoxo

#cod #call of duty fan fiction #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #konig #konig fanfiction #konig smut #konig x reader

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604to647 · 6 months

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Safest with You - Ch. 1 (The Coffeeshop)

1.4K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: A handsome stranger helps you out with an unfortunate situation at the coffeeshop before work.

Warnings: None? I guess some jerk yells at a cute old lady 😢 so a wee bit of protective Din as well. (No smut, just a meet cute! Gonna be a slow burn, folks!)

A/N: Finally, I'm doing it! This is the start of the Modern AU I'm trying to build; Din is a retired mob enforcer for the Fett family, but they still call him in periodically when they need his strategic know how and/or extra muscle. He never says no - they're his family 🥹 For this meet cute, he's on a job downtown; I say they're in the financial district because I imagine Reader working in a corporate office with a finance related job she loves (she has a methodical mind!), but it’s not really important so you can imagine any office job 😊. There's no implied age gap, so I consider her as either well established or rising in her career. In other words, she's an independent woman and don't need no man 😂

Also I always use this super cute heart divider by @saradika (thank you!)

Series Masterlist

It’s crazy busy in this coffee shop. Not unexpected of course; the local chain has some of the best coffee in the city, and this particular location is its only one in the downtown financial district. Everyone, including yourself, was here to get their caffeine fix before heading into the office for the day.

Well, not everyone, you smile to yourself. The little old lady in front of you doesn’t seem to be in any rush at all; you overhear her ordering her cappuccino in a ‘for here’ mug and a slice of coffee cake “as a treat”, and you’re glad someone, at least, will be having a nice leisurely morning. When she’s finished at the till, you order and pay for your latte, then make your way to the waiting area where several other patrons are awaiting their orders.

“Ice Quad Espresso in a Venti cup, extra ice and six shots!”

Whoa. That’s a drink, you chuckle to yourself. Someone must be preparing for a whole ass day. You look up to see who might collect that caffeine bomb, and can’t help but admire the tall, broad-shouldered stranger who’s flashing the barista a devastatingly handsome smile and a nod of thanks. Maybe it’s your own lack of caffeine, but you might be gawking a little at the way his wavy dark hair is peppered with grey (a few stray curls seem to stick out in the cutest way possible) and start to think it would be soft to run your hands through. The fluffy hair matches nicely with his salt and pepper facial hair, neat but not perfectly trimmed, which for some reason you think suits him – he doesn’t look like he has to try very hard to look so adorable. You’re snapped out of your daze when three more orders are called out in rapid succession, including your own and the little old lady’s. Both of you, as well as a thin man in an ill-fitting grey suit approach the coffee bar to collect your drinks. You were the closest, so you reach the counter first, collect your latte and step back to allow room for the others. The thin man, however, apparently can’t wait and rushes forward to try and push past the old lady, just as she is turning around to look for a seat. You watch in horror as they crash directly into each other and the old lady’s porcelain mug spills the entirety of its contents on the man before falling to the ground and shattering. Shocked by the sudden impact, the thin man then flails out his arms, knocking both the old lady and her plate off balance, the latter slipping from her grasp and breaks on the ground as well. Rushing forward, you help steady the old lady with one hand on her back and letting her grip your other arm. Thankfully, you’re able to hold her steady and not drop your own drink. “Are you okay?”, you ask. Shaking a bit, the old lady nods, “Yes, dear.”

“You fucking bitch!”

Shocked, you look up and see the thin man glaring at the old lady while using his free hand to uselessly try and brush away the coffee that is dripping down the front of his suit jacket. From the corner of your eye, you see the profile of the handsome Quad Ice man as he takes one step forward to intervene, but you beat him to the punch. “Excuse you? You don’t fucking talk to her like that!”, you say with a bite to your tone. How dare this effing guy?

“Look at this fucking mess! She ruined my suit!”

“I’m sor-”, you hear the old lady start to say, so you place a reassuring hand on her arm, hopefully conveying that she doesn’t have to apologize to this neanderthal. Stepping between the two of them, you look directly at the jerk and extend an accusing finger in his direction, “It was an accident! Which wouldn’t have happened if you had just waited your turn.”

“I’m in a hurry! Some of us have very important meetings to get to. And now the meeting is completely ruined because of this fucking mess!”

This guy. You roll your eyes. “If the people you work with don’t respect you because of a little bit of coffee on your clothes then you have much bigger problems.” And with that, you’re done with him, turning and crouching down to help the old lady who has unnecessarily started to try and clean the mess.

Your back is turned, so you don’t know if the thin man tried to approach or if he had started to say something, but you hear a deep, rich voice from above say with quiet authority, “You owe both these women an apology.” Looking up, you see the the imposing figure of the Quad Ice stranger standing over you and the old lady, almost protectively, shielding you both from the thin man’s view. The hand not holding his crazy drink order is clenched in a tight fist; his hands are huge and you can see a scars of varying sizes and age littered over his knuckles. You know without a doubt that this man knows how to fight. There’s a energy radiating from the man towering above you; you don’t know how to explain it, but it doesn’t feel dangerous? Instead, it feels warm and you instinctively know you’re safer having him there.

Regardless, you don’t want this cute old lady’s morning ruined any further so you decide it’s better to diffuse. Touching his clenched fist and smiling softly when you have Quad Ice’s attention, you let him know to let it go, “It’s really okay. Do you mind grabbing me a few napkins?” His gaze down on you is soft, yet still protective; however, he takes his cue from your expression and lets the thin man leave, before bringing you a stack of paper napkins and squatting down to help.

“You shouldn’t have to help, dear.”

You give the old lady’s arm a gentle squeeze to wave off her concern, and you and Quad Ice start carefully picking up pieces of porcelain and putting down napkins to soak up the spilled coffee. You reach over and put your hand gently over his, “Careful, it’s sharp.” He gives you a smile and nods.

Finally, a staff member comes over with a mop and lets the three of you know you don’t need to clean up any more and gives thanks.

As Quad Ice goes to throw away the porcelain pieces you’ve been collecting in a napkin, the old lady exclaims, “Oh no! My dear, I got you too!” You look down and see that you do indeed have a giant coffee stain near the hem of your skirt. Oops! You don’t want her to feel bad though, “Oh, it’s okay! I've done worse. Don’t worry, I have a very friendly dry cleaner.” You try your best let her know you’re not bothered, but the old lady still looks devastated.

“Come now, let’s make sure you get your morning treat.” To distract her, you gently steer the old lady back to the till and order another cappuccino and coffee cake for her. You absolutely insist on paying, hoping to help make up for the terrible morning she’s had so far. She tries to argue, but the kind barista lets you both know it’s on the house and then that’s that. After you've walked the old lady to the waiting area, you look at your phone, and realize you need to leave if you’re going to make the first meeting of your day, “Here’s where I have to leave you! I hope your day gets much better from here.”

The old lady gives you her sincerest thanks, but you’re still somewhat reluctant to leave her. From behind you, a familiar voice says in a comforting tone, “I’ll make sure she’s okay.” You turn around to see that Quad Ice hasn’t left and is giving you a warm smile, as if he knows how worried you still are and wants to put your mind at ease. The little old lady is now nodding reassuringly at you as well, and with that, you give the handsome stranger’s forearm a light squeeze as a thanks and you say good bye to them both.

---

As you take your first sip of coffee while sitting down to your meeting, you can’t help but recall the stranger’s deep chocolate brown eyes and the warmth they exuded in that last look he gave you and you wish you at least knew his name.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin x you #modern au #no y/n

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hauntedestheart · 3 months

Text

Security Footage - Bodyhoppers

One of Trevor & Andy’s misadventures, a more detailed account of the sort described in Security Measures - Hoppers

This was the bar Paolo always went to when he was looking for a hookup, and he'd hit the jackpot tonight with this guy. Andy, as he'd introduced himself, was a tall drink of chocolate milk with a pretty face and a killer body who seemed very into himself (who could blame him?) and very interested in getting out of there with Paolo... and Paolo was thinking that he just might let him.

They'd been chatting for about twenty minutes, the obligatory idle small talk that allowed them both to pretend they were interested in each other as people rather than just warm bodies, but Paolo's patience was wearing thin and he was spending less time looking into Andy's deep brown eyes and more time looking at the deep crease between his pecs. Andy was talking about some kind of video game when Paolo chanced another glance, and when he looked back up, he found Andy looking at him with a knowing smirk.

"You're checking me out," he said, a hint of smugness in his voice like he knew he was hot, and got pleasure out of being admired- Paolo found it incredibly attractive.

"I've been eyeing you up since the second you sat down and you know it," Paolo fired back, not a trace of shame in his voice. His eyes flicked up and down Andy's sculpted form. "Come on. Look at you."

"Look at me? If you insist..." Andy tugged the hem of his shirt up for a moment, exposing the abs Paolo had been hoping lurked beneath the fabric, and Paolo licked his lips. Andy, for his part, seemed equally delighted by the sight of his tight midsection and was still staring at them as he popped his next question. "Damn, I look good! Are you maybe interested in helping me see what this body can do?"

Paolo grinned- finally.

He leaned forwards and closed the gap between the two of them, pressing their lips together into a deep kiss, sticking his tongue into the other man's mouth to get a taste of what was in store for the rest of the evening. Andy groaned into his mouth, his deep voice sending shivers down Paolo's spine, and he yanked his partner even closer with a sort of roughness, like he didn't know his own strength too well, but Paolo, swept up in the moment, seized on the momentum and leaped onto Andy's lap. He straddled the hunk's strong thighs and Andy's hips bucked up instinctively in response; Paolo felt an almost comically large mass of flesh grind into the seat of his pants and press into the crack of his ass.

"Jackpot," he heard Andy mutter, and Paolo couldn't disagree- he was even more excited by the prospect of a hookup now that he knew Andy's private parts were just as impressive as his public ones.

Speaking of public, both men seemed aware that they were making a rather brazen display of themselves in a public setting, but neither seemed to care. They were far from the first couple to be spotted making out at the counter of a gay bar- Paolo had even heard rumors that management encouraged it because it "set a good tone" for the establishment. Two hot studs getting physical for all to see... what was there for anyone to complain about?

Because of this, it took Paolo a bit by surprise when he heard someone clear their throat and felt them tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. He growled, more than a little upset at such a hot make out session getting interrupted, but he pulled away from Andy and turned his attention to the newcomer- a skinny young Latino guy who was staring at the two of them with bemusement.

"Hey, I'm Trevor," the stranger announced, giving a shy little wave. "Sorry to interrupt!"

"Enjoying the show?" Paolo gave the interloper a withering glare, placing one hand on Andy's firm chest as a way to clearly mark his territory, and as a reward he felt Andy's big hand snake around him and pinch his bottom. Trevor glanced down at the hand and raised his eyebrow, and Paolo sneered in the most bitchy manner possible. "As you can see, we're kinda in the middle of something, so..."

"Of course," Trevor said through gritted teeth, then he met Paolo's eyes and gave him a dry smile. "I just need you to know that the guy you're sitting on is actually already taken."

The young man called Trevor lifted up his phone and held it out to display a photo of him and Andy together, Andy's big arms wrapped around his midsection as he leaned down to press a kiss into the top of his partner's head, and then he flicked his thumb to swipe through several other photos of the two in similarly romantic positions. Paolo noted that each photo was timestamped, showing a variety of dates from over a year ago to as recent as the week before. Alarm bells started going off in his head so he glanced back at Andy, who seemed just as surprised as what was on the screen as he was.

"Oh shit," Andy muttered, looking distinctively guilty, but he didn't tell the guy to get lost, which confirmed to Paolo that the two probably did have some form of relationship. Well, fuck.

In light of new information, Paolo found himself struggling with indecision. On the hand, he was horny as hell and the fat bulge he was sitting on let him know that he wasn't the only one. But on the other hand, Paolo was not a homewrecker and acting as someone's side piece was so tacky! But on another hand, he didn't know the full situation and if Andy was into it, who was he to say no? But on a fourth hand, getting involved with a guy whose "boyfriend" was willing to make a scene in the middle of a public bar seemed to be a questionable choice. But also, one of his real life hands was currently on Andy's massive bicep and it felt like pure sex so maybe the trouble was worth it?

Fortunately, Trevor seemed to read Paolo's thoughts and decided to make up his mind for him.

"Look, I'm going to level with you-" Trevor began, and there was a somewhat bored look on his face as if the interaction were more akin to customer service than anything else. He pointed at Andy, who was still gaping at him like a fish, and he shook his head. "I know he's hot and you're probably thinking of risking it for him but there is some weird stuff going on here you don't want to get in the middle of. Move on."

He stared at Paolo with an even, steady gaze, and something about his confidence was incredibly unnerving- it made Paolo think that despite his small stature, Trevor was the kind of guy who would cause a lot of trouble if he had to.

Fuck it, Paolo thought to himself, and he reluctantly slipped off of Andy's lap and shot the man an apologetic glance. "This is getting too weird for me, I'm out. Hit me up sometime if you ever work out... this."

Andy muttered a half-hearted protest but he let his hands fall from Paolo's waist, allowing the other boy to slip away from him, and Paolo took one last longing look at the sexy stranger before he shuffled off in search of a safer conquest for the evening.

Trevor slipped into the empty stool he'd left behind and flagged down the bartender, glancing sidelong at his boyfriend before setting his phone down on the counter and digging into his pocket for his walled. An uncomfortable silence settled in and Andy winced awkwardly- one hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he searched for words.

"Hey baby, I can explain, I was just-"

Trevor cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You can stop there, I know you're not him." He ignored the other man's dumbfounded expression in favor of flashing the bartender his ID and setting some cash on the counter. "Can I get a hard cider? And get him a rum and ginger ale with a splash of lemon please, it's his favorite."

The bodyhopper, now exposed, swore under his breath- he thought this had been one of his cleanest snatches yet, the dude fit him like a glove, but apparently he hadn't done as well as he'd thought. He should have known that snagging a hunk like Andy on a Saturday would be too good to be true. With a sigh, he slumped over the counter and lolled his head sideways to stare at the other boy.

"Fuck, did you see me hop him?" he asked, double checking to see that the bartender wasn't nearby and they could speak freely.

"No," Trevor shook his head and gazed at the back of the bar, idly studying the assortment of bottles lined up against the wall. "But when I got back from the bathroom and Andy was gone I kinda figured that something was up." He turned and wagged a finger at the body hopper inside of his boyfriend's body, almost like he was chastising a disappointing student. "You were on the right track taking him to a different bar- smart to leave the scene of the crime -but disappearing without giving some kind of excuse to the bartender or sending a text was a mistake. Leaving is one thing but leaving without an explanation raises questions."

"Damn, you're right," The hopper grimaced at his rookie mistake- he'd been so excited to be inside such a handsome body that he'd forgotten to cover his tracks. Speaking of which... "How did you track me down?"

"Location services are on," Trevor tapped the back of his phone. "I always know where Andy is."

"You just track your boyfriend's location all the time?" The hopper's eyebrow raised a little judgmentally. "That's kinda creepy."

"Creepy? I guess it kinda is," Trevor's tone was as dry as a desert. "Boy, I sure would hate to feel like I'm doing anything too... let's just say invasive, to him."

Trevor gave the hopper a pointed look, and the hopper slouched a bit and shuffled in his seat awkwardly. Touché.

The bartender arrived with perfect timing, depositing Trevor's order in front of him, and the young man nodded his thanks. He grabbed the bottle of cider for himself then slid a glass full of pale amber liquid across the counter towards the hopper, who eyed it with confusion.

"Here, try this," Trevor said after a sip of his own beverage, nodding towards the glass. "Ginger ale, lemon, rum. Andy prefers it to beer."

The hopper thought it sounded like a strange combination but, not wanting to be rude, he sat up and took a small sip. When the concoction hit his tastebuds, he groaned.

"Oh my god, that's good," he licked the spare drops off of his lips, savoring the tangy flavor, and Trevor shot him a look that said I told you so.

"Yeah, the big guy swears by it," Trevor said, referring to the real Andy, and he shook his head and gave a fond little smile. "It takes like cleaning fluid to everybody else but it's magic on his tongue."

Then the smile dropped from his face as Trevor adopted a serious expression and clasped his hands in front of him, turning in his stool to face the hopper occupying his boyfriend's body. Instinctively, the hopper sat up straighter.

"Anyways, now that formalities are out of the way, let's talk business," he began, speaking with a firm, steady voice. "As you've probably gathered I'm rather fond of the guy you've hopped tonight and I don't take kindly to people who try to use him, so here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna sit right here next to you all night and chase off any guy who comes close. If you try to leave, I will follow you. After a long night of nothing, you're gonna get bored and leave us alone. Or, you could skip all that, just leave now, and maybe salvage the rest of your evening inside of someone else."

The hopper was about to argue (he'd finally managed to hop a guy like this and now he was being told to give it up?) but a second look at his host's boyfriend caused him to close his mouth. Getting involved in a situation with too many strings was a rookie hopper mistake, and he'd already made too many of those for one evening. Still, the hopper glanced down at his stolen cock which (somehow) was still hard in his jeans and he grimaced.

"So you're really just gonna make me sit here all night with a boner?" he whined, flexing his ass to make the tent in his pants jump a bit, which Trevor seemed unamused by.

"Yup," Trevor said flatly, popping his lips on the final "p" sound. He crossed his arms. "It's a nice dick and I'm in charge of keeping it safe."

"Damn it, I thought I was gonna get laid tonight!" The hopper threw his hands in the air and bowed his head, giving it a good natured shake. "But you win, I know when I'm beaten and I accept defeat." He glanced at the still full glass on the table in front of him. "Can I at least finish this drink first? It tastes so good with his mouth."

Trevor let out a puff of breath and the hopper could visibly see tension he hadn't realized was there seeping out of him as he relaxed back into his barstool- it took guts to face down a hopper, and the relief he experienced at his success was palpable. Trevor eyed the hopper, then the clock, then he shrugged.

"I suppose that's fair," he said, and then he lifted up his bottle and extended it towards his companion. "Cheers."

"Cheers!" The hopper clinked his glass against Trevor's bottle and took a small sip- he intended to stretch this one drink out for as long as possible so he could extend his stay inside of Andy's delectable body. Even if he didn't get to use it, just getting to sit there in it was a treat in itself. Trevor raised an eyebrow at him, so the hopper took another, slightly larger sip, then changed the subject.

"You're being awfully chill about this," the hopper remarked, and he eyed Trevor up and down- he hadn't thought much of the other boy at first but now that he looked closer, he could see the appeal in the boy's sweet face and delicate proportions. "You a hopper too? Nice choice of vessel, you wear the whole 'little brown twink with the heart of a bulldog thing' well. He's not bad looking either."

"Uh, thanks I guess?" Trevor said awkwardly, his cheeks suddenly a shade darker. He looked away and fiddled with the label of his cider. "But I'm just a regular human, this is my real body."

"Oh!" The hopper blinked and took a big swig of his drink to cover his surprise. "Shit, and there I was just talking about you like you're a Halloween costume. It's a hopper thing, don't take it personally." He paused. "Or do, I guess, if you like the compliments." He paused again, feeling like there was one more thing he should add. "And, uh, sorry for hopping your boyfriend I guess."

"Don't worry about it, happens all the time," Trevor chuckled bitterly, running a hand absently though his hair while the other hand gripped the counter tighter than was strictly necessary. "The fact that you're still wearing clothes and didn't try to punch me in the face and bolt off the second I showed up already puts this in the top half of the encounters the two of us have had."

The hopper whistled. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"There is," Trevor looked a bit guilty and he stared up at the ceiling, squinting his eyes shut like he was recalling a painful memory. "I was, uh, actually the first one to snatch his body with some random spell I found on the internet."

"Oh really?" The hopper eyed Trevor with a newfound sense of respect. "That's ballsy for a human but I can't say I blame you, this guy is a nice vessel. I thought for sure your boyfriend was gonna be my golden ticket for tonight, like, look at him!" The hopper lifted both of Andy's arms up into an impressive double bicep flex and gave an exaggerated smolder that drew a laugh out of Trevor. The hopper relaxed a bit and leaned back in his stool, arms crossed behind his head because he liked the way it made those same biceps bulge. Might as well enjoy them while I still have them.

"Man, if you hadn't come along I was gonna be rolling in dick tonight," he mused, running a hand over the strong line of his jaw and admiring his smooth caramel skin. "Nobody could turn this face down."

"Yeah, I'm rather fond of it," Trevor said wistfully, staring at Andy's body with a bit of a sad expression on his face, and suddenly the hopper felt a twinge of guilt he usually didn't experience after snatching someone. But then Trevor shook his head and furrowed his brow. "But you don't need to look like that to find someone- I'm living proof of that. I still managed to net Andy looking just like this."

"Shut up, you're cute," the hopper said, rolling Andy's eyes. "But seriously though, the thing about being a hopper is you get to try on all these different faces and forms and it kinda starts to give you an inferiority complex. My true body is around the same age as this guy but like, he's made out of bricks and I'm made out of straw, if you get what I'm saying. Nothing wrong with wanting a little upgrade every now and then!"

"Oh yeah?" Trevor's eyes flicked up and down the hopper's body- he knew it well, of course, but it was always a sight to see. He licked his lips. "What's your favorite part?"

The hopper blinked. "Huh?"

"I wanna what your favorite part about being in my boyfriend's body is," Trevor clarified, his fingers toying idly with the neck of his bottle of cider. For a second the hopper thought the boy might be nervous, but this seemed to be something else. "I'm not gonna judge, I was in there myself once! I just think it would be interesting to... compare notes."

"Well he's-" The hopper stumbled over his words for a second, not entirely sure if a joke was being played on him, but Trevor's big brown eyes stared at him expectantly, so he continued in earnest. The answer was easy anyways.

"He's jacked, you know?" The hopper shrugged and shook his shoulders out a bit, putting the full broadness of Andy's shoulders on display, and he tilted his head down so he could watch the way his host's hard earned physique rippled visibly beneath his clothes as he moved. With delight, he pushed out every muscle that he could until he felt so big that he was worried he might burst. "Like holy fuck, is he ripped! This guy is jacked from head to toe in the best way possible- because sometimes you go for a really muscular guy and he turns out to be some roided up gym rat so you wind up feeling like a dried out piece of beef jerky, but this guy is juicy."

He relaxed a bit and leaned back in his chair, wrapping one of his hands around one of his thick thighs and squeezing to feel the firm handful of meat giving way beneath his fingers. He shuddered- he'd taken over a good number of bodies in his time, and none of them had legs like this.

"His body has a bit of a bounce to it, you know? And I like that, I like that I can feel him move when I move." He paused, almost embarrassed about what he was going to say next, and he took a big swig from his drink for courage. His eyes remained trained on the glass as he continued, but he still felt Trevor's eyes drilling into the side of his face. As he shifted in his seat, he felt his stolen glutes roll beneath him. "But the first thing I noticed about him when I spotted him across that bar was his giant cakes and they don't disappoint, there's almost a kind of luxury in getting to sit on a pillowy ass like this."

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean..." Trevor murmured, blatantly staring down at the aforementioned butt, and one of his hands drifted absently down to his lap. The hopper raised an eyebrow. "What else do you like?"

"Is this..." The hopper glanced around the room to check that no one was listening, but then leaned in closer anyways. "Dude, is this turning you on? Are you getting off on this?"

"Maybe a little bit," Trevor shrugged, his cheeks flushing dark brown, and he hunched his shoulders defensively. "What? It's not often that the people who snatch Andy's body are interested in doing much talking. Indulge me for a minute."

The hopper was all too happy to oblige, relishing the opportunity to speak openly like this with someone else about his experience. He puffed his chest out, feeling the natural swagger that came with being in such a studly body, and continued.

"I like how hot he is. I like that people's heads turn when I walk by them, and they can't keep their eyes off of his body because even when he's dressed head to toe you can still see these big fucking muscles busting out of his clothes, like this body is to be contained."

He leaned in closer to Trevor and lowered his voice, bringing Andy's tone down to a deep rumble. "And I like just sitting here knowing that I'm probably the biggest guy in the room. You know," his hand slipped under the bar and closed around his crotch. "with this fucking thing your boy is packing... that's a hell of an ego boost."

He squeezed tight, unable to hold back a little groan as he felt what was hidden inside of his pants, and he thinks he heard Trevor make a little noise too. His face grew hot and he took another swig to cool down, savoring the taste of the golden mix, and when the hopper set his drink down on the counter he heard it clink- glancing at it, he realized that there was nothing left in the glass but ice. He reluctantly let go of Andy's swollen cock and ran his hand down his face instead, knowing now that his time was up.

Trevor cleared his throat and brought his hands back up the countertop, taking another sip of cider and then gesturing with the bottle towards the empty glass. "You finished your drink."

"Seems like it," the hopper said with a sigh, then clapped his hands together decisively. "Well, a deal's a deal, I guess I'll get out of your hair now."

Trevor's lips quirked up at the side and he glanced up at Andy's wooly hair. "Technically his hair."

"Hardy har har," the hopper droned, shooting Trevor a dry look. Unable to resist, he gave Andy's pecs one last rub (seriously, he thought, this guy has an incredible rack) and bounced them a few times for the road. "Damn, and I was really hoping to get laid tonight!" The hopper laughed and shook his head. "But it seems like you two have a good thing going and I don't wanna mess with that."

He gestured with his thumbs towards the privacy of the bathrooms. "I'd better-"

"Do it right here," Trevor interrupted him, and the hopper froze.

Now that was a risky proposition- only the most daring of hoppers would do it in the open unless they were absolutely sure they wouldn't get caught. But... the hopper glanced around and it seemed that no one was giving the two of them much attention. And if Trevor and his boyfriend had gone through this before, they were unlikely to make a fuss, which meant even less risk...

"No one is watching," Trevor egged him on. "Come on, it'd be hot."

Unable to resist the temptation to do something a bit naughty for once (well, naughtier than usual for a hopper) the hopper slipped out of his stool and rose to his feet slowly, doing his best not to draw too many eyes to himself. He took a deep breath, taking note of the way the air made his massive chest expand, and he still thought it was a damn shame that he wouldn't get to take such a lovely body out for more of a joyride. After one last survey of the room to make sure the coast was clear, he closed his eyes and-

"Wait," Trevor interrupted again, and the hopper's eyes flicked open. What more could there be? he wondered as he stared at Trevor, who looked at him with a coy expression. "Before you go, what's your name?"

"Oh!" the hopper said, a bit surprised. Asking a hopper their real name was something of a faux pas, but Trevor seemed nice so for some reason he decided to answer the question honestly. "Dante. My name's Dante."

Trevor extended his hand. "Well, it'll be nice to meet you Dante."

Dante smiled and reached out, returning the handshake, and then suddenly it was Andy's hand that Trevor was holding.

"What the hell?" Andy blinked rapidly and shook his head out as if trying to physically chase the confusion away, and his hand instinctively pulled away from Trevor's in confusion and groped blindly for support. He found the counter of the bar and grabbed onto it, lifting his head and searching the room wildly as he gathered his surroundings, but when his eyes recognized his boyfriend he instantly relaxed.

"Hey Andy," Trevor said meekly, and he didn't have time to get another word out before Andy crashed into him and enveloped him in a great big bear hug. Trevor grunted, because he was being squeezed a bit tight, but he rubbed his boyfriend's back to comfort him anyways- Andy was always a bit clingy with his boyfriend after regaining control of his body, finding that the other boy's presence helped him to feel grounded in himself once more. (And Trevor needed a bit of reassurance as well sometimes.)

"Shit, Trev," the bigger boy groaned, his face buried in the wavy hair atop Trevor's head. He breathed in the familiar scent and focused on that instead of his disorientation. "Did I let it happen again?"

"You did get snatched," Trevor gave two firm claps on Andy's back (the sign that he was running out of air) and Andy released him, pulling back to gaze into his partner's eyes, and Trevor smiled at him reassuringly. "But everything is okay now. Nothing happened."

Unnoticed by the two lovebirds, a Dante was sitting in the stool that had formerly hosted Andy's body and watching the tender proceedings with mild interest. He had to admit that the pair made for a very cute couple, which made him feel he'd made the right choice in letting Andy go... but that didn't make his balls any less blue after a night of striking out, and seeing two hot young college boys getting physical right in front of him wasn't getting his mood up in the right way.

Feeling a bit dejected all of the sudden, Dante snatched up the glass that he had been drinking from before and upended it to his lips, letting the last few drops of alcoholic concoction slide into his mouth. He winced at the bitter taste.

"Shit, he was right," he said out loud. "It's only good with his tongue."

Trevor glanced over at the visitor and his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of what Dante looked like in his real body- a black man with skin a few shades darker than Andy's who seemed just a few years older than the boy as well, an average build and median in height between Andy and Trevor.

He was, Trevor noted, not unpleasant to look at.

"Andy, this is Dante," Trevor directed his boyfriend's attention towards the hopper, who gave Andy a nod. Andy nodded back. "He hopped you earlier tonight but he's very graciously decided to step out of you before he could cause any trouble."

"Really?" Andy breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at Dante. "Thanks man, that's really cool of you."

Dante sniffed and gave a casual shrug but Andy, apparently unsatisfied with a simple verbal thanks, stepped closer to Dante. For a moment the hopper was worried he was about to get clocked, but Andy just stuck his hands out and pulled the other man in for a firm bro-hug, and the two clapped each other on the back.

(Dante let his hands linger for a moment on the other boy's back and damn, his body felt just as good from the outside. Maybe he should have tried harder to fuck someone using it.)

"Don't worry man, it's nothing," he said after they'd pulled apart, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Always down to help a guy out."

"Sick t-shirt by the way," Andy's eyes flicked down to the Trials of Osiris top that Dante had picked out for the evening, and he gave a nod of approval. "You game?"

"More than I should," Dante admitted, and Andy let out a big laugh. Dante gave a little snort and rolled his eyes. "Dead game."

"Dead game," Andy repeated, and Trevor looked a little bit lost but smiled and nodded anyways.

"This is my good luck shirt," Dante explained, feeling a bit more at ease around the duo now that he knew they didn't bare him any ill-will. "It doesn't really matter what I wear when I go out because I- well, you know, I'm gonna be wearing whatever my host was wearing." He coughed awkwardly. "So I like to wear this one."

"Seems like you two are hitting it off, that's cute," Trevor glanced between the two of them with a coy look on his face. He leaned over and draped himself across Andy's shoulder, his smaller frame fitting nicely onto his boyfriend's sizeable bulk, and he rested his chin by Andy's ear. "Hey, Andy, you know how we went out tonight so we could find a guy that we could, you know..." his voice trailed off. "Try that thing with?"

Andy tilted his head to the side and looked bewildered for a moment. "Yeah? So you still wanna find someone to have a-" Then the switch flicked in his head and he perked up. "Oh! With him?"

He turned to face Dante and looked the young man up and down, and Dante shuffled uncomfortably- he was a hopper, he wasn't used to having his real body looked at like this. But apparently Andy liked what he saw because he placed a hand on Trevor's shoulder and squeezed tight. "Yeah, yeah I'd be down for that."

Dante glanced between the couple, who were both eyeing him up in a strange way, and his eyebrow raised. "What are you guys talking about?"

"You know how you wanted to get laid tonight?" Trevor asked, squeezing in closer to his boyfriend and tracing one finger against his chest in a motion that landed somewhere between casual seductive. He looked at Dante expectantly. "What if that was still an option?"

#male possession #Series: Security #Idk why this is 5k words with a three act structure #didn't go into it with super much of a plan and was caught off guard by the ending

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darlingdarkly · 2 months

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Here’s a short little fear piece I wrote. Inspired (very loosely) by the movie Hush

CW: immense fear, blood, knives, Ghost is literally trying to kill you

This contains dark content! I am not responsible for your media consumption! Reader discretion is advised!

1.3k words

You don’t so much as round the corner as you crash, hips first into the metal garbage bins against the far wall trying to dip off the street and out of view as quickly as possible. You fall and a broken groan is punched from your throat as something hard and unyielding jabs you in the ribs. Your hands hit the ground in an attempt to catch yourself and they land in something that’s wet and smushes underneath your weight. A sour pungent odor blooms beneath your nose, burning your nostrils and you instinctively cringe away from it.

You don’t have time to check your injuries, though you’re sure you’re bleeding from at least one knee as you hastily pick yourself up out of the garbage and leap back into a sprint.

He rounds the corner just as you get to your feet. He’s tall, the street post behind him casting an ever lengthening shadow over you as he closes the gap. You sob and sniffle as you try to put as much distance between you and him as possible. You want so desperately to look back and see if he’s gaining but it’s a luxury you can’t afford; chances are you’ll just fall again and then the knife he’d used to slash your back with will sink its steely edge into your throat or your heart or your liver and then it’s over.

So you don’t look back, just scramble down the alley as the pounding of your heart and the soles of your shoes echo off the dense brick walls and berates your ears with their deafening boom. You stumble and nearly trip over your own feet scurrying away from him. The alley narrows and you pray to whatever deity will answer that this isn’t a dead end because if it is you’re fucked.

Your back stings, the tacky blood sticks your shirt to your skin and it pulls at the lips of your wound with every pump of your arms. Your left hip throbs and your lungs are burning, you’re worried you’re very quickly running out of gas. You won’t be able to keep this up much longer and now you fear you’re only prolonging the inevitable.

Your sneakers splash in a deep puddle, splattering foul water up on your shins but you hardly notice as you bang, face first, into a chain link fence that caps the end of the alley. On the other side is another lamp post and you dare a look over your shoulder to see he’s only about forty feet back.

You have no options, it’s climb or die so you mount the chain, fingers pushed through the links as you scramble up the side. The top seems impossibly high and you anticipate the arresting grip of his iron paws at every second. You get a leg up over the top and throw your body weight over the side, toppling over the edge and falling onto the pavement on the other side, there’s a curt wheeze as the air is punched from your lungs at the end of the drop.

You pick yourself up quickly and nearly fall again as you stumble back from the thin chain barrier separating you from him. It’s nothing but open street behind you and the ancient primal part of your brain is screaming at you to keep going but all you’ve done is run and he’s just kept coming. So you gather the last of your nerve in a desperate bid to appeal to whatever human compassion may still reside in the monster that’s been chasing you down like a sadistic beast for the last eight blocks.

You swallow harshly and it catches in your windpipe, making your first attempt sound like choked garbles.

“Please!!!” You swallow again but your mouth is dry and nothing goes down, not that the tight ball of fear that had become your stomach would accept anything even if it did. Tears cut wet paths through the oily sheen of sweat that had permeated your skin as they flowed freely down your face.

You force your gaze from the darkly gleaming street to the figure standing ominously in the shadows, just out of reach of the light. Like if he stepped into it too quickly it’d burn him like flame. Your breath hitches as he moves, stepping out of the pregnant darkness, polluting the light.

It’s your first good look at him and the glimpse of white mask you’d seen earlier turns out to be a stark white skull. Dark brown orbs peer out at you emotionlessly from the eye holes. He’s abnormally large, the breadth of his shoulders nearly scraping either side of the alley walls. The chain link fence creaks and bows with his weight as he leans forward onto it, resting his forearms just above his head.

There’s a bright golden flash as something metallic catches the arc sodium light and it glints cheekily back at you. You’ve felt its bite and now you get to observe its shape. A wicked downward sweep, reminiscent of a tiger's claw, with a pinprick point juts from one meaty fist. It’s hollow grind is still dripping with your life’s blood, the deep red of crushed cherries.

You try again and find it easier the second time around, though your pitch still fluctuates erratically. “Please!! Please, just go!!! I—“ Your hands tremble and you force them to your sides to steady your nerves, try to alleviate the shake in your voice. I h-haven’t seen your face. I won’t say anything!! Won’t even call the police I swear!! Please!!! Just go!!”

He’s eerily silent and you think for a moment that maybe he hadn’t heard or perhaps didn’t speak the same language as you. His head slowly lolls to one side, cocking at a near forty five degree angle and something about it makes your blood chill.

You’re paralyzed with terror as the hand not gripping the knife pulls away from the fence and bunches the fabric around the base of his throat in his fist before slowly but seamlessly peels it back from his face and pulls it over his head.

You’re left with the image of a dead pale face, marred by pale pink and crisscrossing scars. There’s a deep one cut through the plump skin of his lips, beginning just under one nostril and ending in the dip of his chin. There’s another bisecting one thick chiseled eyebrow. His nose is crooked, probably broken more times than he’d kept count. His jawline is strong and supported aptly by an impossibly thick neck. Wispy, arrant strands of hair gleam in the golden light, amplifying their natural blonde hue.

Despite his flaws, if it had been under any other circumstances you’d find him almost devastatingly attractive. But currently instead of devilishly handsome you only found him to be devilish and so held him with disgust and an inordinate heap of terror.

“Run.” It’s the first time you’d heard him speak and it’s almost too low for you to hear. The deep rumble of rolling thunder sounding over the horizon, a warning from a far distance.

“W-what?” His mouth twists into an ugly scowl, brow furrowing, nostrils flaring as he repeats himself, getting louder with each word, like a train whistle gathering steam.

“I said RUN!!” The last word he bellows, a roar that jumpstarts your legs and sends them into overdrive as you stumble back from the fence like his voice carried a physical blow. The chain link rattles violently under the force of his fist as he smashes it against the gate in unbridled rage. You turn on your heel and bolt for the mouth of the street, veering right and running blind as you pray you can escape his clutches on the second try, your life depended on it.

#Simon riley #simon riley x you #dark!ghost #dark!fic #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #tw dark content #tw dark themes

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nvmadic · 1 year

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WHISKEY DICK - SCHLATT

prompt: schlat and the reader go to a party and one thing leads to another. words: 2,664 warnings: explicit content / drinking / 18+ notes: f!reader

The whiskey just started going down like water at this point, the lagging in your eyes with every head movement began to worsen with every drink you finished, slamming down the red solo cup onto the kitchen counter; the plastic container clattering as it toppled over, your coordination at this point had almost completely deteriorated. Bass thumping, shouting and cheering as people were trying to be heard over the deafening music.

"Another," you demanded with a slight slur as you were heavily inebriated. Schlatt hadn't strayed too far from your side for most of the night. He was matching your pace with the drinking so, in his words, didn't seem like a pussy. "I don't know if I have it in me," he leaned closer so you could hear him over the music, although he still decided to shout; his confidence in his ability to keep up with you had waned. He was close enough that you could feel his breath beside your ear and smell the liquor that he had been chugging all night. "Well, then you'll just have to admit that I win," you turned to look up at him with a smile.

he broad, tall man who had against his will, lost a bet to Ted who was dressed as a knight, was dressed as his noble squire. The outfit would have made a bit more sense had Ted not vanished halfway through the night to be found in an intoxicated slumber, recklessly planted in a flower patch in the yard. Schlatt had ditched most of his outfit only a few hours into the evening, only leaving him wearing a white linen collared lace-up shirt which sat quite snugly along his large shoulders. Sheathed and attached to his plain black pants was a cheap and flimsy plastic sword. His brown curls let loose with the odd strand sticking to the thin layer of sweat that had started to accumulate on his forehead, which he would try and prevent by periodically combing his fingers through his hair and pushing it back.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff, and stared down at you for a brief moment, either contemplating his life choices or taking it as an excuse to stare at you as he had been since the moment you arrived. A cheap sexy nun outfit, the sort you could find at Target or Spirit Halloween. You rolled a wheel on your Twitch stream the night before for your viewers to decide what your outfit should be and it ultimately ended up winning. Indifferent, you wore it as you looked good in it anyway. It wasn't anything special by any means but boy did he think it looked special on you.

"If I die from alcohol poisoning I'm blaming it on you," he smirked as he handed over his empty cup for you to refill with the bottle of Jim Beam which was making its way to becoming empty. Without trying to make a mess you refilled the cups, handing one back to the big guy who was still intently watching you, a drunken glaze over his eyes. As your arm extended to reach out to him, a group of streamers who had yet to head home barged past, haphazardly shoving you into Schlatt. The drinks quickly soaked into both of your outfits before the cups hit the floor, not able to hear their faint clatter over the blaring music and the distant chatter in the other room. "Jesus fucking Christ, watch where you're going!" Schlatt scorned the assholes who lacked any awareness to notice what had even happened. He looked down and let out an exasperated sigh at the rather noticeable wet patch that spanned most of his torso. His eyes drifted over to your white blouse which now, completely drenched, had made your cleavage very obvious. The alcohol in his system completely shed most of his shame and proper conduct which led to him unapologetically studying your chest.

"Sorry, I—" you began to speak, clasping your hands over your mouth in an elevated, drunken state of shock. "It's not your fault," he shook his head, "Are you okay?" He leaned in once more with a much softer tone, once again feeling his hot breath on the side of your neck caused goosebumps to cover your skin. You nodded timidly, looking at the parts of Schlatt's shirt that were now clinging to his skin making the outlines on his torso very apparent. "Come on, we'd better go and dry ourselves off," he drunkenly mumbled as his sober persona slipped momentarily. He briefly glared over towards the window which overlooked the lawn where the group of inconvenient and loud boys were now disturbing others in the backyard.

Schlatt grabbed you by your hand, using each other as support as he guided you towards the closest bathroom. Schlatt locked the door before sitting you on the edge of the bathtub and turned around to stare at the state he was in the mirror. You'd partied with Schlatt a couple of times and he was very good at outwardly hiding how drunk he was and it annoyed you because despite drinking the same amount you couldn't handle yourself all the same. There were a few bangs on the other side of the door with a couple of attempts to turn the door knob followed by laughter and some remarks you couldn't really comprehend before they left.

You were so occupied with using all of your energy to focus on unclasping the buttons on your blouse hadn't even noticed that Schlatt had already removed his shirt and had discarded it to the side, both of his hands firmly grasped at the sink and he stared into the mirror, but he wasn't looking at himself. You had managed to unclasp a few of your buttons before letting out a defeated sigh and letting your eyes gaze up towards him, your eyes taking a detour to admire his tensed back. A smile lingered on his lips and he allowed you to stare for a while longer, "you need a hand with those buttons?" he asked, looking down to see your cleavage just about protruding from the top of your blouse, slightly glistening from alcohol that had now soaked through and made your skin slightly sticky.

You nodded coyly, as he began to make his way over. As he turned around you finally got a better view of his front half, just like your breasts, most of his torso had a fine coating of alcohol which caught the light. You must've stared longer than you had thought as he let out a little snicker, looking up to see his self—assured grin, he towered over you trying to attempt to assist in unbuttoning the rest of your blouse. "You're too far down," he laughed, his stifling breath catching your skin again. You both paused and looked at each other. The intent gaze into both of your eyes said more than words could, you could hear your own heart thumping in your chest.

Online, you constantly fed your fans with content that just fuelled them shipping you together. Sexual jokes and taunts, so—called romantic escapades, bickering like an old married couple. Your fans loved you together, but like everything online, it was all fake. Wasn't it?

Hands firmly clasping your face he pressed his lips into yours, out of pure shock and the whiskey causing your reaction time to decline you didn't kiss him back. Schlatt pulled away with his brows moderately furrowed. It was almost as if he was about to apologise before you pulled him in again, your hand wrapped around the back of his head, fingers buried beneath his luscious hair. You returned the kiss, albeit kind of sloppy but you just wanted him then and there, Schlatt relaxed into your touch eagerly biting at your bottom lip before unwillingly retreating to get some air. His chest heaved as he stepped back, concealing his wobble as he did so. An excited grin was plastered on his face as he didn't let you go from his sight, taking in every single last bit.

Despite his drunken state he scooped his hands beneath your luscious thighs and picked you up. He moved his grasp to your ass as you wrapped your legs around him. He stood for a moment as he tried to gather his balance. You both chuckled, stupefied by the situation and how you were both so intoxicated you probably weren't going to remember anything in the morning. You could feel Schlatt's growing erection press against your crotch as he carried you over to the sink where he sat you down, both were pleasantly surprised he didn't topple over with you in his arms. Now in a better position, he continued to unbutton your blouse, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red with every button that popped open revealing more of your delectable breasts. Eventually, you just sat in a tiny skirt and a laced black bra, which you did think was a bit too much to be wearing for what you wanted to be doing to that man right now.

He pulled you in again for another kiss, your lips messily meshing together, almost grazing teeth at the eagerness of how long you had both been waiting to taste one another. Schlatt's right hand wandered to your back and he tugged at you, not wanting a piece of paper to be able to get between you both, your breasts pressing up against his chest. Unconsciously he pushed his pelvis forward, allowing you to feel his fully erect cock trapped beneath his underwear. You moaned into the kiss causing him to pull harder and his fingers to wander to the clasp of your bra. They fumbled for a few seconds before he managed to unlatch the hooks; without breaking the kiss he slid both straps from your arms and pulled the garment from you. His hands immediately cupped them.

Schlatt withdrew, allowing his eyes to gaze at your erect nipples. He lowered himself, his tongue grazing over them before he blew on the areas he had just licked causing you to shiver slightly and let an unforeseen moan slip from your lips. Schlatt gave an amused hum as he squeezed your left boob and stoutly sucked at your nipple before moving on to the next one giving them even more attention. Both of your hands caressed his head as he did so, clasping at his hair unintentionally pulling a little too hard as he let out a satisfied groan.

He snaked his hands up under your skirt and tugged at your underwear, sliding it off your legs and discarding it on the cold tile floor. His hands lingered on your thighs as he delicately squeezed at them, his lips once more dancing with yours. "You don't have any fuckin' idea what you do to me," he exhaled against your neck as he began to pepper it with gentle kisses. "I think I do," you teased, using your legs to envelop him and pull his waist closer to feel his hard cock press against you. Schlatt let out an amused mumble, "Can't exactly hide that can I now," he jested before continuing to leave soft kisses on your breasts and trailing down your stomach. "Just fuck me, I've been waiting long enough as it is," you murmured with a smile, not an ounce of nervousness was left as your liquid courage had absorbed it all. "Well, glad to know I'm not the only one," he grinned as he went in for a final kiss, your noses bumped as he enthusiastically slipped his tongue past your lips brushing against yours before eagerly retreating and pressing his lips against yours once more.

Schlatt's hands remained near your crotch, his fingers pressing against your entrance, a gratified hum against the bare skin on your neck as he was pleased to know how wet you were. He pushed to fingers in, a contented moan attempted to leave your mouth before you bit at your bottom lip. He curled his fingers, pulling back and forth slowly, "how badly do you want me to fuck you, huh?" He asked smugly, knowing you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. He could barely contain himself, he just wanted to fill you up with his girthy length. However, he enjoyed the power he had, teasing you, you just begging for his cock.

In between whimpers, you went to answer but before you could say anything he withdrew his fingers from you and stuck them into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. He used his other hand to delicately rub at your throbbing clit. Sucking at his fingers, his breathing became heavy and he gingerly removed his fingers from your mouth. Batting your eyelashes innocently at him didn't help the situation he had going on in his underwear. He finally had to unfetter himself, Schlatt lowered his pants and his hard cock bounced as he eagerly pulled it from his boxers. He admired himself, grabbing it by the base and pushing its tip towards your entrance. It lingered there, not going any further no matter how much you begged him to. Once again, he pushed his lips against yours, his tongue being welcome in your mouth as his cock bobbed at your entrance. He swiftly drove himself in, both of you letting out a pleased exhale. Schlatt used one hand to grab your lower back and the other lightly planted on your waist. Starting off slowly, he rested his head on your shoulder whilst pulling you as close as possible. He was muttering obscenities and how fucking good you felt on his cock.

The banging on the door started again with people jokingly shouting to stop fucking in there followed by laughter once more. The doorknob rattled a few times. Without giving you any warning he thrust himself in deeper, keeping the same pace but allowing more of his length to enter you. You couldn't help but let out a squeal, quickly pulling your hand up to your mouth to try and stop any further noise but Schlatt disapprovingly put it back to where it was, "let them know how nice I feel," he smirked beginning to pick up the pace.

Whoever was outside must have heard your moan as there was some muffled chatter and they quickly disappeared once more. Schlatt began to grumble as he glided inside of you, your wetness completely coating his cock. The room was now filled with the sound of your wet skin making contact and your not-so-discreet moaning. At this point he was utilising the entirety of his erect cock, filling you up entirely. Neither of you was bothered by dirty talk at this point, you had both waited so long to feel each other and being totally inebriated you were both just focusing on how pleasurable you both felt.

Schlatt slowly became more vocal as he began to reach his climax, his face red and sweaty, he drunkenly scrambled to remove himself from you, spurting warm cum all over your thighs and accidentally getting some on your skirt. His body twitched slightly as he emptied himself, slumping over on you as he grabbed at your sweaty body. There was a brief moment of silence, not the uncomfortable kind, just both with each other's company as you both regained your breath. "Fuck, sorry," he mumbled, "you probably didn't finish," he apologised, kissing the lengths of your slightly sweaty neck once more. He groaned as he began to stand up looking at the mess he has created. "It's okay, you can make it up to me next time," you smiled. Schlatt began cleaning you up with a hand towel he had grabbed from the holder. "Well, shit, give me 10 minutes," he stated, half joking as he pulled you in for another drunken sloppy kiss. link to the rest of my work [x]

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #chuckle sandwich #chucklesandwich #smut #x reader #female reader #x female reader #schlagg

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junkissed · 11 months

Text

sunkissed

member — husband!jun x reader genre — fluff word count — 2.8k synopsis — this year for your anniversary, jun takes you on a trip down memory lane through the flowers of your past. warnings — the time skips between past & present, reader wears a dress at the end, some kissing, very brief cheol & seokmin cameos. nothing too extreme but they're a gross adorable happy married couple notes — this is for @svthub's secret garden collab! this fic is very special to me for many reasons but mostly because it's based on a little beach town where we used to go when i was growing up and i have so many fond memories of that experience (and also because i love jun hehe). i hope you enjoy :)

one reblog = one bouquet of flowers from jun 💐

“jun, can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

he shakes his head, a grin across his face. “nope! it’s a surprise.”

you frown and cross your arms, sitting down on the bed. “well, how am i supposed to know what to pack, then, if i don’t know where we’re going?”

jun pauses, his brow furrowed. “oh. yeah.” suddenly he pulls out his phone, studying the screen carefully, and you can’t help but laugh at him.

“what are you doing now?” you ask.

he looks up at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “checking the weather,” he says. “it’s supposed to be nice and warm but the weather app says it’ll be windy, so pack a jacket.” he pauses, thinking. “maybe more than one jacket.”

you stand and walk over to your closet, pulling out two hangers: a long brown coat, and a thin cardigan. “which one?”

his face lights up and he laughs, pointing to the coat. “that one, for sure.”

“excuse me, do you need some help?”

ice cold drops of rain pour down around you as you stand underneath the overhang in front of the grocery store, cursing yourself for not checking the weather more thoroughly before you went out today. it had been a deceptively sunny day earlier, but during the rainy spring season you never know when the weather will flip on a dime and the skies open up like they have today. your outfit had been perfect for the sunshine, but now it’s nowhere near enough to protect you from the rain.

at the sound of a voice you turn and see a tall man coming out of the store behind you, a plastic thank-you bag sticking out from under his arm. “do you live far?” he asks. “you can borrow my umbrella, if you want.”

you start to tell him no, you’re fine thanks, but you pause when you study his face a little closer, realizing you recognize him. “you look familiar… do i know you?”

he nods his head a little in response. “aren’t you seungcheol’s friend? i’ve seen you at his parties sometimes— you were at new year’s, right?”

you give him a nod, relaxing a little now that you know he’s friendly, but you’re still surprised when he says your name. “yep, that’s me,” you say with a polite laugh. “but i’m sorry, i don’t remember your name.”

“don’t worry about it,” he grins. “i’m junhui, by the way, but my friends call me jun. you can call me jun.”

you stick out your hand, and he shakes it enthusiastically. “well, it’s very nice to officially meet you, jun,” you smile.

“so, about that umbrella,” he says.

“oh, no, i’m alright,” you say, waving him off. “i’m not far away. just working up the courage to sprint back home,” you say with a laugh.

“let me give you a ride,” he says. “a little bit shorter of a sprint for you, at least? i live at the apartments a couple blocks down, it’s not out of my way.”

“i’ll be fine,” you say, shaking your head as a gust of wind nearly knocks you over. “but it’s very kind of you to offer.”

he frowns a little. “well, i can’t in good conscience let you go running around in the rain without an umbrella or anything,” he says, thinking. he shifts his bag of groceries to his other arm and starts shrugging off his coat. “here, take my jacket. your outfit would get all ruined in the rain.”

you want to tell him no again, but the rain continues to pour around you, and your shoes are already soaked in water. and his coat does look pretty warm…

“okay, fine,” you say finally, accepting the clothing from him and slipping your arms into the sleeves as he tosses it around your shoulders. “but how do i get it back to you?”

“are you going to cheol’s housewarming party next weekend?” he asks, and you nod. “you can give it to me then.”

“alright. i’ll take good care of it for you,” you say with a smile, and he grins in response.

“i’m really sorry, i’ve gotta rush off to a meeting,” he says, checking his watch. “but it was nice meeting you, and i hope we see each other again soon!”

he gives you a little wave, then dashes off into the rain, holding his plastic bag over his head to protect himself. you pull the hood of his coat up over your head, feeling a little guilty for leaving him without a jacket; but he had offered, and you would see him again anyway. you’d have to figure out a way to repay him next time you saw him.

“now will you tell me where we’re going?”

the warm morning breeze brushes against your cheeks as you roll the windows down, resting your elbow out of the car. you lean your head back against the headrest and sigh, glancing over at jun in the driver’s seat. the wind blows his hair around in his face, a tousled flurry of brown against his tan skin.

you still have no idea where you’re headed for your anniversary trip, and it looks like jun has no intention of letting you know anytime soon. but that thought couldn’t be farther from your mind as you watch jun drive, buzzing in his seat with how excited he is to reveal his plans.

“nope,” he says, and you whine in response. “but you’ll see soon enough.” he grins at you and reaches across the seat to rest his hand on your leg, and you rest your hand on top of his, tilting your head against the seat to look out the window.

as he drives along the road, the city gets less and less dense until you’re out on a long back road, nothing but green fields and tall grass as far as the eye can see. eventually jun pulls off onto a dirt path and stops the car in a tiny parking lot. a small wooden sign announces the name of the park, along with a note that reminds visitors to pick up their trash.

he pulls the keys out of the ignition and turns to you, grinning. you smile back at him, waiting for him to say something. “is this your big surprise… ?”

he laughs, leaning over the center console to kiss your cheek before opening his door. “no. this is just lunch.”

he gets out of the car and pops open the trunk, pulling out a small cooler and a blanket before shutting it again. he holds out his hand to you, motioning for you to follow him, and when you take his hand he squeezes a little, turning back to smile at you before leading you over to a shady spot in the grass.

he spreads the picnic blanket out and you start to open the cooler to help him set up, but he swats your hand away playfully. “let me do it,” he pouts, and you can’t ever say no to him, especially when he’s gone through such lengths to plan all this, so you let him continue on with what he’s doing.

he pulls out a bottle of sparkling apple juice and two plastic champagne flutes, handing one to you so he can pour yours out first, before pouring his own and setting the bottle down.

“we’ll have the real stuff once we get to the hotel,” he says with a grin, holding up his glass to clink with yours.

“oh, so we’re staying at a hotel?” you say, raising your eyebrows at him as you take a sip.

he scowls. “you’re not getting any info out of me until we get there, so don’t even try!”

you laugh, laying down on your side on the blanket, and he pulls out paper-wrapped sandwiches from the cooler. he looks at them both and then hands you yours, with your name printed in careful but messy lettering and little hearts drawn around it in sharpie.

it’s so cute you almost don’t want to ruin it by opening it, and you look at it fondly for such a long time that by the time you finally start to unwrap it, jun is already halfway done with his. you call his name, holding back a laugh when he looks up from his sandwich with mustard smeared on one corner of his mouth and up his cheek. “what?” he asks, mouth full.

“nothing,” you giggle, reaching over to wipe the mustard off his face with your thumb before wiping your hand with a napkin. “i just love you.”

“number 36, two ham and swiss for jun?”

the barista calls out the order, and jun jumps out of his seat to go grab the food. despite being the middle of the day, there isn’t much of a lunch crowd in the cafe this afternoon.

after seeing jun again at your friend seungcheol’s get-together, you’d really hit it off, and you’d casually offered to get lunch with him sometime. and as luck would have it, your schedules lined up so that you both had a free afternoon the very next day. jun had recommended the cafe down the street owned by his friend seokmin, raving on and on about his chocolate chip muffins, and you’d been convinced.

he comes back to the table a second later holding a little wood tray with two sandwiches, carefully handing you yours before sitting down again.

not only does the sandwich end up being great, but the company you’re with ends up being the best part of the lunch. getting to know jun is more fun than you’ve ever had, and when you look down to check your watch and realize that you’ll be late to work if you stay any longer, you’re honestly disappointed it has to end here.

“do you wanna go out again sometime?” jun asks nervously as you both stand up. “maybe… dinner or something, next time?”

“yeah.” pushing your chair in, you give him a bright smile. “i would really like that. dinner sounds great.”

he grins, and you can almost see his cheeks flush a little as he follows you out of the cafe. walking back to your car parked next to his on the sidewalk, he tells you all about the new recipes he’s been wanting to try and how he can’t wait to show you his favorites, already eager to cook you dinner.

being around him feels like you’ve known each other for years, and in that moment you realize this lunch is only a first date with jun. he’s already making plans for a second, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

he helps you into your car and gives you a wave before walking away to get into his own. and long after his car has pulled away and you’re still sitting in the parking lot, you can’t help but smile, thinking about how wonderful today has been and how much you’re looking forward to seeing him again.

“we’re here, baby, are you awake?”

jun’s soft voice pulls you out of your nap and you blink slowly, sitting up and massaging the kink in your neck from sleeping against the window. you had wanted to stay awake to see where jun was taking you, but with the excitement from packing you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and the feeling of warm sunshine on your face and the rolling of the car had put you right to sleep.

rubbing your eyes, you stare out the window to see what he’s talking about, but it only takes you a few seconds to immediately recognize where you are. “jun!” you gasp, looking over at him, and he beams back at you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“surprise,” he giggles, watching your giddy reaction as he drives along the familiar coastal highway. it’s the same little town you spent your honeymoon with him years ago, that you’ve always said you’d wanted to visit again but between both of your busy lives you haven’t had the chance to.

you roll down the window, sticking your head out of the car and inhaling the fresh, salty sea air.

jun pulls into the hotel parking lot: a little inn that, by the looks of it, hasn’t changed much since the last time you were here. you hop out and come around to meet jun at the other side of the car and he gives you a kiss on the cheek as he stands up, shutting the car door and taking your hand to lead you to the front office to check in.

when you pull open the door, the front desk is decorated just like how you remember it. paintings of ocean scenes hang on the walls, and driftwood and seashells sit atop every antique wooden table. you walk across the room to pick up a magazine off one of the tables, flipping through it to see advertisements for local restaurants, wine tastings, and local art shows.

you’re so invested reading an article about the owner of the inn, that you don’t notice how jun lowers his voice talking to the man at the front desk, whispering and nodding quickly before he hands the room keys to your husband. he grins and shakes the man’s hand before calling your name, and you turn around and grab his hand again, ready to go see your room.

jun hands you the keys and lets you lead the way, tugging him after you. muscle memory comes back to you as your feet carry you up the stairs to the same room you’d stayed in so long ago. he follows after you, unable to hide the smile on his face as he sees your excitement. it’s not often you get to go on vacation together, and he’s determined to make sure this anniversary is one you won’t forget.

outside the room you unlock the door, but when you see what’s inside you nearly drop everything you’re holding. the entire room is covered in flowers, with pink rhododendrons and pretty white blooms in vases on every table and rose petals scattered across the bed. by the mini refrigerator there’s a bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of ice, a little note attached with a bow around the neck of the bottle.

you turn around and jun is right behind you, beaming like a little kid that’s just been told they can have dessert before dinner as he watches your reaction. it had cost him a lot to get the owner to do all this extra stuff, but when jun had talked to him on the phone he was more than happy to help him plan it all out for such a special occasion.

you throw your arms around him and he giggles, walking you backwards into the room. the luggage in the open car trunk is long forgotten as his lips press against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“are you ready?”

jun asks from the driver’s seat as you sit beside him in the car. your dress bunches up around you as you turn to look at him, pushing the fabric out of the way so you can lean across the cupholders to kiss him, the first of many kisses today and over the years that will come.

he smiles against your lips before pulling away to start the car, and you look out your passenger side window one more time. all of your friends and family stand outside the car, waving and cheering and holding bouquets of bright pink rhododendrons.

jun twists around to look behind him at the rear window, where the words “just married” are written in chalk marker, as he reverses out of the parking lot.

once everyone is out of sight, you begin to relax into your seat, kicking off the shoes that have been hurting your feet all night. you’re leaving before any of your guests are, having stayed at the reception just long enough to cut the cake and have your first dance, so it’s still early enough in the evening to have some time to yourselves

“where are we going?” you ask, reclining the seat a little with a sigh as you gaze out the window. the stars are beginning to come out, little twinkling lights in the sky, and you smile as you think about today, finally a moment to relax and reflect on everything.

your new husband grins and shakes his head, sliding one hand across the seat to intertwine his fingers with yours. “nope. it’s a surprise.”

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