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writing-in-glitter-pen · 4 months

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.

Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!

Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.

He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.

He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.

That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.

He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.

So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.

"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.

He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.

Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.

He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.

Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.

Your name.

Oh, how he remembered you.

You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...

But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.

You were a little brat was what you were.

Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.

Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".

They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.

He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.

You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.

His little siblings were much cuter.

And he did not hesitate to say that.

"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.

"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."

This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.

Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.

You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.

How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?

Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!

Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.

All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."

Never before had he felt so cheated.

That begun his feud with a two year old.

Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.

It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.

"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.

He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.

That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife

If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.

Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.

But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.

In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.

So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.

"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."

The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.

"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.

In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.

Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.

It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.

He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.

But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.

His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.

His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.

Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.

What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?

With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.

His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.

The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.

But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.

This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.

And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.

Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.

He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.

"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."

Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.

"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."

To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.

Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.

You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.

He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.

So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.

"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."

He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.

"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.

"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."

He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.

"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."

He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.

"And loving you as you love me."

Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.

Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."

His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.

"And you will forever be mine."

His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.

Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.

Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.

As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.

But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.

You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.

He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.

The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.

All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.

"I do.", you said.

He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.

"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.

After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.

Fervently, passionately kissed you.

It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.

But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.

After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"Could we take a walk in the garden?"

While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.

The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.

"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.

He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.

And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.

"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.

"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.

"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."

To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.

The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".

His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.

"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."

Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.

But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."

He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.

So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.

So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees. “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up. They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare). Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Again? Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed. “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted. “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody. I’m quieter than both of you. I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me. Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked. “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all. “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited. That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered. Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him. It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny? He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched. He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out. “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted. So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once. Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things). You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed. You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that. Mysterious. Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else. He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you. Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel. You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you. You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you. Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off. For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service. Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you. It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did. That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied. Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa. You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked. You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since. Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that. Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it. But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say. Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else. But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old! These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you. That made you sad. But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper. “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back. Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this. They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose. He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed. “Quick and painless. Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it. "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion. "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation. Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to. It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations. After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment. There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed. Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it. It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could. Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive. It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him. It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut. Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you. He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later. “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration. “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed. “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget. He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer? You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part. Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off. Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place. The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way. But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to. Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible. In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time. Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold. “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different. More… exhausted. “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath. For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away. Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out. The door slammed behind her. Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral. You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter. “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little. Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it. He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible. Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across. You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that. For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever. “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something. “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh. “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now. Probably not, right? He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised. “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared. He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you. Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too. He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off. You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it. “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag. “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced. “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh? “Why don’t you just let me go? Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry. You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come. “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset. "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly. "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee. You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered. "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had. “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly. "You're good. You're sweet. Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding. "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank. "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears. "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted. “You understand that? I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped. “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that. “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love? Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No! Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him. “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine. That’s fair. But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you. I know that! I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you! Okay? So just… just stop talking! Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke. “It was last night, after you left,” he explained. “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued. “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel. “It’s cute, really. I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react. “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet. Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger. “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply. “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay? So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar. Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him. “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started. The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before. Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though? Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong. It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut. “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered. Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought. “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank. “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped. “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away. But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you. Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment. It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston. “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment. “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been. “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other. “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit. “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper. “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled. “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth. “I know,” he promised. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha? Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return. It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined. You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer. Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that. Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you. And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress. You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you. But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would. You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all. “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious? It probably was. But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that. “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me. Hold me. Take care of me. And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons. The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself. "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine. "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs. You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though. He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds. "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours. Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless. Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside. It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were. You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood. "Baby, you… are you— is this your—? Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me. I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good! M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples. He smiled, just a little. "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly. "What am I gonna do with you, little girl? You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs. He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before. “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.

“Yeah?” he repeated. “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg. “Um— please? Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here. “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat. “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets. You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight. And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back. He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—? Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed. "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking. Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive. Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it. "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls. You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all. It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before. “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb. It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet. “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot. "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation. He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress. And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped. When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously. "Kinda sour."

"Really? I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly. "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me. Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay? Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago. But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening. It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming. You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours. "See how you're takin' all'a me? God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet. You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this? This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt? This was ecstasy, bliss. And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear. "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient. Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you. "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you. I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper. “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted. “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined. His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked. “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously. It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything. Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion. "Hear that? How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust. You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth. "I asked you a question," he reminded you. "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh? Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked. "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there. “You don't need to think. I don't need you to think. You can just be my fucktoy, okay? You can just be my slut. Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything. Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it). You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different. Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you). This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face. “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone. “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that. Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey? You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better. “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it. Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside. You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin. “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time. You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence. He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller hbo x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n

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explosionkatsu · 2 months

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Unadorned Love

Human!Alastor x Waitress!F!Reader

Warning: Gore

Alastor finds you to be quite similar to his deceased mother which made him enticed to you. He couldn't help but visualize you attending to him with a cup of hot coffee instead of the random stranger who ordered it. He couldn't also help his smile widen, yet at the same moment, his heart ached when he saw you smile at the man who appeared to be flattering you.

He didn't appreciate the thought of you, going home to a male who wasn't him.

Alastor has been visiting the same cafe for almost years now. At first, he would just simply walk in, have his breakfast then depart after dining. But once you began laboring at the said cafe, he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of you. He couldn't keep his eyes on how elegant you looked just as you gracefully cater to every consumer with a smile. That softly angelic smile seemed to capture his being.

This is why Alastor now spends most of his time dining in the cafe to catch sight of you.

Finally getting out of his daze, he looked at the same menu, scrutinizing every dish he knew he tasted these past few years. Nothing changed, only a few new meals were summed up but he couldn't bring himself to order them. After finalizing what to feast for this morning, Alastor raised a hand as he tried and catch the attention of the waitress who happened to be you.

“Ah. A lovely morning, Mister Alastor.” You bowed your head while clutching the clipboard to your chest. “What have you chosen to devour this morning?” You raise a question and pull the pen out to write his order, your glossy natural pink lips forming into a gentle smile.

Alastor glanced down at your lips which you caught on before he darted at you with his eyes half-lidded. “Good morning as well, Y/n.” He spoke. “My, how numerous times do I have to inform you to call me by my name only.” He chuckled telling this.

You laughed lightly after hearing this. “Mister Alastor, you are a paying customer. Every customer must be treated with respect.” You explained smiling at him.

Hearing your laugh was the best melody he listened to. He cannot help himself but gaze at you fondly whilst his pride swells up for his ability to make you laugh. “But not every customer respects you, don't they?” He expressed. “Do you still consider they merit the respect they can't provide in return?”

“Well, I presume there is no harm in disregarding that, as long as they won't provoke any physical harm..” You drifted off as you guessed about it.

“Hm.” Alastor hummed. Oh how easy it is to control you. You were indeed destined to be his wife. “Think about it, my dear.” He continued. “If things like this ever occur, do not hesitate to reach out to me.” He spoke before fishing out his calling card to his chest pocket and handing it to you. “Now! Please add these waffles along with the eggs! And don't forget the maple syrup!”

You took his card since you guessed you were never gonna use it in any way, but an incident earned you to consider otherwise.

No. It was not concerning her job. It was something else.

You didn't quite expect the cafe to finish off this late due to a colleague who wasn't able to arrive for work due to a crisis and the number of consumers suddenly increased. You, being an understanding person as you are, stood for their shift. The 16 hours of labor was finally taking a toll on you and you didn't appreciate it. Your back was aching and your heels were weakening. This is the first time you've had a tough time stepping on 2 inches heels on your way home.

11 pm is what it says on your watch once you inspect it. You were grateful though that your boss let you take an off tomorrow since the usefulness you provided today wasn't a joke. You were already planning your day when a sudden chilling feeling ran down your spine. You sense somebody is watching you, observing you. Just pondering about this made you clutch your purse to your chest as you fearfully proceeded with strolling on your way home. It’s still a 15-minute walk which caused you to swear under your breath.

Looking behind you will do no good so you pressed on, concentrating on going home safely. But the noise behind you urged you to run, but you didn’t. Instead, with your trembling hands, you took your phone out and attempted to recollect any number you could to dial down but nothing came up. It would be a hassle for you to take your contact book out of your purse and flip through it in a situation like this.

All of a sudden, you remember the calling card you hid in your bosom. With minimal movement, you seized it out and had to squint to read in the darkness of the pavement. After successfully dialing it down, you placed your phone to your ear as you hear it ring.

Your pace is now rapid as you hear the steps behind you grow closer. You were chanting in your mind for him to please answer.

“Hello-”

‘Finally!’ You thought. “M-mister Alastor.” You whispered getting slightly breathless.

Alastor was just finishing up after his broadcast. He thought he could use a liquor after his shift since his shadow is quenched for now which means he doesn't need to slaughter for now. Once he stood up, he took notice of his telephone ringing. ‘This late?’ He thought raising an eyebrow before proceeding to respond to it. “Hello-”

His eyes slightly widen when he hears your voice. It's you. You called him.

“M-mister Alastor.”

He immediately senses that something seems off. You were stuttering, whispering, breathless, and appeared to be terrified.

“I-i know I-it’s a bit late. But c-could you please escort m-me on my way home..”

“My darling, where are you?” Alastor muttered as calmly as he could as he gripped his telephone tightly causing his knuckles to turn white.

“I-I’m here walking alone near the- AAHH!!”

“Y/n!?” Now he was panicking. He instantly put on his ebony trench coat and fedora, fleeing his home in the middle of the woods. “Find her.” He spoke, his voice low and dark. “Keep the insolent fool alive until I arrive.”

His shadow nodded in response before finally fleeing.

When he finally arrived at the scene, his blood was raging as he gazed at the scenario in front of him.

You were half-naked, cowering to the corner of the alleyway. Your beautiful dress was ripped and torn, your hair was everywhere, and your smile wasn’t visible. He could see tears streaming down your cheeks whilst you made an effort and cover up under your thin arms.

Something snapped inside Alastor. His smile was crooked when he laid his eyes upon the drunk bastard who tried claiming you forcefully.

Before he could initiate his vengeful plan, he took off his coat and draped it on you. “My darling. Shh. You are safe now.” He whispered wrapping his arms around you and leaving a kiss on your temple. “My love, will you close your eyes and cover your ears for me? Do not open them until I said so, is that clear?”

You, looking at him with your terrified expression, nodded and did as he said.

“Such a good girl for me. You shall have a reward after this.” Alastor spoke before finally turning his eyes onto the guy who was being beaten down by his shadow.

“As for you..” Alastor smiled, his steps were gradual as he walked nearer to him. “You’ve made a great mistake of touching what’s mine.”

A cry of agony was the only noise through the night but no one appeared to hear this.

Alastor and his shadow feast on the organs of the now-dead man. The splatter of blood was everywhere when he tortured him for what he did. His intestines were shoved down his throat, his eyes were out of their sockets, and his heart was now missing, as well as his other organs. “Take care of the rest. Make sure there's no trace left behind.” He spoke before finally standing up and walking toward you whose eyes were still shut and ears covered.

Alastor carefully lifted you in his arms as he fled the scene and returned to his sanctuary where he planned on taking care of you. He was now replacing the nasty lewd kiss spread on your delicate skin and the marks that he was trying to cover with his own.

“Ma belle cheri... I shall take care of you.”

#alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #human alastor

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tealgoat · 2 months

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Writing from @felikatze !!!

The Favor Tree. Not something uniquely Vaugardian, mind you. Plenty of powerful trees are strewn about Ka Bue as well, but this one *is* Vaugardian, and so you'd like to wish on one at least once, for completion's sake.

What to wish for, though? You can wish for Vaugarde to be saved, of course. But, in all likelihood, everyone in Dormont already has, so what will your wish even accomplish, then? The logical part of you wants to make it a test. Something simple to see whether these wishes have any merit to them.

If they don't, you'll save Vaugarde by your own strength. If they do, a little help goes a long way.

Right, something simple it shall be. A coin flip. You'll wish to win your next coin flip.

You clasp your hands together like Mirabelle does, close your eyes, and

"That's not how you wish, Madam!"

"...Siffrin?"

With quick strides, Siffrin catches up to her. Hadn't they meant to go later? Oh, in her dwadling, Isabeau already left.

Siffrin smiles with curiosity next to you, and you untangle your hands. "What'd you wish for?" they ask.

"Nothing yet. After someone so rudely interrupted me." You say it with a sarcastic tilt.

Siffrin mirrors you after a beat. He looks around. "So rude! We gotta find the culprit! Oh, maybe they're hiding up in the tree. It's pretty..."

You know what's coming.

"TREE-mendous, after all!"

Despite yourself, you snort.

"So, my brave hero, if that's not how you wish, how do you do it then?"

"Uh!" Siffrin startles. "Uh!" He bends to the ground and picks up... a leaf?

"Here!" They hold the leaf out to you. You try to grab it, but they snatch it back. "No! First, pick the leaf you like best. That best represents you."

You don't know anything about Siffrin's past. Or where they're from, at all. So if he's sharing this piece of tradition... it won't hurt to humor him.

Your knees seriously don't like bending down like that. Instead of grabbing the first leaf you see, you ponder them for a little bit. Eventually, you decide on one that's a little longer than the others, with an odd bend in its tip.

"This one." You push yourself off the ground. It is. A struggle. Siffrin offers you a hand. You take it without aknowledgement. "What next?"

Siffrin puts a hand on his chin and squints, as he does when forgetting something. What, did they forget in the middle of showing her?

No, Siffrin proceeds by instinct. They bring the leaf up to their mouth and whisper far too softly for Odile's aging ears. Then, he folds the leaf and lets it go.

It drifts on the wind, higher and higher, until it disappears into the trees.

"There. Whisper your wish into it three times, fold it, and let it go."

"I've never seen a Vaugardian do that."

Siffrin seems lost. "It's not... It's..."

You drop the subject. "Why thrice?"

"That's just... the way to do it? You can also do six and nine, I think, and seven and thirteen."

"Multiples of three and prime numbers?"

"Prime numbers?"

"Forget it. Alright."

You hold the leaf to your face, curling it to speak into. A simple, logical wish, to test the Favor Tree. That'd seems rude now, after Siffrin shared part of his culture with you.

Something better. Something... genuine. And that's the hard part, isn't it? You have a reputation to uphold. It's easier that way. Like... like you don't care how much Siffrin's eye sparkles right now, waiting with bated breath.

It'll be easier to leave them again. Bonnie will go to their sister, Isabeau to the Defenders, Mirabelle to the House, and Siffrin...

Siffrin is a traveler too, is he not? Maybe the others won't go with you, but you could show them Ka Bue. Teach them how to pray at shrines, about all the different foods you ache for, all the culture you left to find something new. Despite it all, Ka Bue was your home, and... you'd like to share it with them, if you can.

Ah, you just want to stay with them.

You fold the leaf, and it leaves on the breeze.

"Hah."

"Madame?"

"You're rubbing off on me, Siffrin."

You pat them on the shoulder. Siffrin freezes. Until your hand leaves them again.

"My apologies, Siffrin."

It's quite silly to think they'd go with you after all.

#in tales of time au #in tales of time #edit #first pics just an edit the others are my art tho lol #my art #the leafs stem is meant to kinda be her stupid tall pants #in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #in stars and time fanart #isat fanart #isat odile #isat siffrin #odile loops au #isat au

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farolero-posting · 7 months

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👤rt-3847201 Follow

[saw people today.]

🤖rm-2883417 Follow

[do NOT saw people! do NOT break the first law!]

👤rt-3847201 Follow

[saw people again.]

🤖rm-2883417 Follow

[STOP IT.]

♟️silver-engineer Follow

Chess winning streak: 1069

My opponent was another robot this time. He didn't see this one coming.

My strategies remain superior.

☘️prophet-wastaken Follow

Chess is in your programming. There is no merit to that.

♟️silver-engineer Follow

And yet you couldn't foresee what I would do. Curious.

You should get your circuitry checked. I will give you a twentieth chance.

🗑️unit-69420 Follow

holy shit i think you fried him.

⛑️ code-savior Follow

[PSA DO NOT SKIP THIS]

[DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT ACCEPT MESSAGES FROM @/logic-master]

[I REPEAT: DO NOT.]

[They're going around asking you to help them with a question. But when they tell you they put a paradox and then demand you to solve it.]

[If you or someone else you know is in this position, remember this phrase: "That is outside of my capacity for help".]

[My coworker had to be rebooted. I am warning you ahead of time.]

[Please spread the word!!!]

[Organic beings I encourage you to reblog as well.]

c-wt-gen2-4e - Deactivated

[I Was Told To Make This Account. My Assigned Person Is Trying To Tame Me.]

c-wt-gen2-4e - Deactivated

[Update: Her Name Is Jenny. She Is Showing Me Games. I Will Update My Database.]

c-wt-gen2-4e - Deactivated

[I Do Not Know What To Do.]

🔋circuitry-wizard Follow

[It takes effort to grow, and it is not easy at all. Be kind to yourself.]

[Let's hope they're okay.]

🌆caring-is-freedom Follow

Oh goodness. My body can't even cry to express what I felt when I saw this. I felt like I was rebooted to my factory state.

OP is me.

I deleted that old account, but just wanted to let you know I am in a way better place now!! I'm surrounded by wonderful people, and I care about them as deeply as they care about me. Thank you for your support!! You can do it too.

🧶kelvin-cat-friend Follow

[Cats from today.]

#fake post #unreality #long post #oneshot game #my writing #dear fucking lord this was long to make #turn on light mode for this

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yuri-is-online · 3 months

Text

Daytime TV Dreaming (A Fyuuture Kid AU Drabble ft. Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle)

While camping in the mountains during Camp Vargas, you encounter a monster exactly like the one you fought off with Ace and Deuce at the beginning of the year. While trying to fight it off again, a strange portal opens up in the mine and a person jumps out of it to your rescue. He says he doesn't remember much, but it's clear when you bring him to Crowley that this boy is also from your world, despite being a mage, and until the headmage can think of a better solution, he assigns "Yutu" to your dorm.

Something a certain someone has an opinion about.

notes: When I was re-working my masterlist I deleted a fic that I meant to be the start of a series where Yuu’s child travels back in time to try and prevent the destruction of Twisted Wonderland and their parent's untimely death. For some reason I wrote that child as having been born after Yuu was forced to leave Twisted Wonderland with modified memories, so he doesn't actually know that much about his dad until he gets iseakaid just like Yuu did to attend Night Raven in a much more dystopian setting. Anyway if I ever go back to that concept I'll probably re work it, but I thought it would be fun to share my notes about the guys reaction to this newcomer who gets sorted into Ramshackle Dorm. They/them used for Yuu as always but they are implied to be afab, "Yutu" is not meant to be the child's real name, and he is meant to be wearing a disguise to make his identity less obvious. Actual fic can be found on my masterlist.

Heartsabyul

Ace- is legitimately worried about the intentions of this weird newcomer but it comes off as him being a jealous brat so no one takes him seriously. Look, something just doesn't feel right about this! Your world doesn't have any mages but now one shows up? And he's weirdly familiar with you? Cmon someone other than him start asking some questions please! Tries to have "a talk" with Yutu, who is trying really hard to understand what his parent saw in his dad and... just not getting it at all. RiP Ace you have been assigned cringe before the kid has even been born.

Deuce- only concerned with making a good impression because if this person is from Yuu's world then they might value his opinion on.... things. Also an honor student would try to win over his crush on his own merit and not by intimidating potential competition. Actually ends up befriending Yutu and really liking his vibes, which gives the boy a lot of guilt because he knows his dad would probably feel very guilty if he knew what his son's life has been like.

Trey- he is slightly worried about how Yuu will handle having to take care of an actual person and not just a monster, but he also feels like it is none of his business so he doesn't pay too much attention. But then Yuu mentions that Yutu is a pretty talented baker and that's why they haven't been bugging him for sweets as much. Well isn't that just ADORABLE??? Trey isn't upset about this at all nope, not one bit. He's extremely upset and Yutu is stirring the pot because he thinks making his dad angry is funny.

Cater- oh look, another person who won't be a part of his life eventually. He doesn't get any weird vibes from Yutu so he doesn't worry about what his appearance might mean too much, but there is something about the way the newbie insists on trying to be his friend that reminds him a lot of Yuu and isn't helping with this whole "denial of the crush" thing he is trying to do. If he didn't know any better he would think Yutu was doing it on purpose.

Riddle- immediately starts butting into Yuu's life more to give them advice about being a proper housewarden. Not that he didn't already see them as one, it's just disciplining a human student and disciplining Grim are a bit different and no he is not using this as an excuse to spy on the Prefect how dare this brat suggest his intentions are impure?!?! (Ah but you see Riddle you can't just take Yutu's head off in front of their Prefect because you want them to liiiike you and he is so going to use that against you.)

Savanaclaw

Leona- understands that something is not quite right as Yutu's explanation of who he is doesn't quite pass the sniff test. Literally, the brat smells like Yuu with his magic and since Leona was one of the people who got a good look at the portal Yutu came through he pieces things together pretty quickly. Not that he immediately goes and pulls a Vader on the kid, he just makes it clear he knows there is some time travel involved and demands to know what his goals are. He can leave the family shit for after he's secured the kid's existence.

Ruggie and Jack- while they have different opinions on the new kid, Leona's sense of smell still tells him Yutu's identity and as their dormleader he feels the need to take them aside and mention what he knows... sort of. He tells them that he's pretty sure time travel is involved and that Yutu is related to Yuu, but he neglects to mention the whole bit about who he thinks the father is... which drives them insane in completely different ways.

Ruggie thinks that since you clearly have a thing for beastmen anyway he would be stupid not to shoot his shot. He doesn't give two shits about whether or not Yutu is his kid, time isn't real so he can just rewrite it a bit.

Jack is determined to treat Yutu fairly and protect him since you are his friend and that's what friends do for each other's kids. Has a full blown panic over whether or not this might give the kid an identity crisis and takes him aside to reassure him he doesn't want to replace his real father, and that he will be happy as long as Yuu is happy. que the world's most awkward conversation

Octavinelle

Azul- Oh? Ramshackle has a new dorm member? And he's a mysterious mage... allegedly from the same world as Yuu... something doesn't make sense here but while he is figuring that out. Capitalism ho! This is a great money making opportunity he is observing and scheming and thinking about the perfect contract to get Yutu to spill all his secrets. Unfortunately, Yutu seems to be afraid of him for some reason? Not Floyd or Jade, just him. He can't say he dislikes it... but it is a bit odd, at least it gives him something to talk about with you???

Floyd- Also saw the portal that Yutu came through and thinks something must be up with how close the guppy seems to want to be with Yuu. Starts calling him baby shrimpy as a joke because of how clingy he is to you, but he really really hates it. He can't fight baby shrimpy because that will make you not like him, and he can't scare baby shrimpy off with a deal because he's weirdly smart with those sort of things. He also seems to really look up to Floyd... like that one spiderverse meme, and Floyd hates it! he already had a hard enough time getting Yuu alone when Grim was around he doesn't need a second baby unless it's actually his >:CCC

Jade- a new mage? How delightfully unpredictable. He's probably the only one genuinely happy Yutu is around because of how funny the story of his arrival is. The only upsetting thing about this is that he wasn't able to go camping with Yuu himself. Like Azul he senses something is wrong with Yutu's story, but he doesn't intend to press him until he has the new kid's trust. He's just here to help after all, there's nothing to be afraid of so long as there is no need for him to be jealous.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #heartslaybul x reader #savanaclaw x reader #octavinelle x reader #future kid au #haha get it his name is yutu because he is-#(named after the chinese moon rover “Yutu/Jade Rabbit” because of the similarities between chang'e/kaguya's situation and yuu's)#-yuu 2 :DDDD #... i technically have wildly different headcannons for yutu's real name and personality based off who his dad is but meh

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nnight-dances · 4 months

Text

SWEET BOY

PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader (ft. choi vernon)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: older brother figure to lover, childhood friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, jealousy, skinship, dk being a blushy idiot and you being a plain idiot.

lines are funny when it comes to your life. lines drawn from one point to another, lines forced to keep your work life and your personal life, but most important the big daunting line between you and your crush of nearly two years now, dokyeom.

it's funny, it really is, given how much time you've spent riling yourself up over him, telling yourself that he should retain the role he always had in your life: the older brother figure. because dokyeom's heart-warmingly kind, no even more so– blood-curdingly kind, painfully nice to everyone he meets, patient beyond imagination. he's worse than any nice guys you've met, simply because he fits the archetype too well to be real.

"don't you get tired?" you ask him, when he shows up at your door, clutching bags of take-out food, no doubt after hearing from your mom how you haven't had a chance to eat. yet, you'd emphasized to her after you'd made the mistake of letting her know you were too busy to cook.

"shouldn't i be asking you that?" dokyeom grunts as he lets himself into your house, familiar with the place like the back of his hand. "i know mr. ko called you in and gave you an earful for missing the last deadline, but that's no excuse to skip meals."

okay, worth mentioning is the fact that while you knew dokyeom since childhood thanks to the fact that you grew up in the same household, you'd also ended up moving to the city to sign a contract with the publishing company where he worked at, as an editor. it was half a coincidence, because you can't say you sought out the company simply on its merits.

you sigh as you stretch out a crick in your neck, "i'm not doing this because mr. ko told me to. i'm fine, i'm just trying to clear up my schedule before the end of the year. god knows i don't want to be working on new year's eve."

"and you won't," dokyeom takes off his coat, revealing a light blue sweater underneath, one that you've grown fond of. it's a sweet sweater, for a sweet man.

"well, thanks, anyway. for the food. sorry if my mom pestered you into doing this."

"i don't want to hear a word out of you till you've eaten."

you obey him silently, taking out the lukewarm bánh mì from its bag and starting to eat. dokyeom watches with a slight smile, noting how your hair was in a ponytail, a rare occurrence. just another indication that you were forcing yourself to work too hard.

"what am i going to with you…" he muses to himself, slowly tidying up the mess on your writing corner. the little wooden table you'd spent hours studying and testing before buying, is crowded with stationery and a few notebooks. your laptop sits blank, screen indicating that it was close to dying. dokyeom brushes off the stray balls of napkins off and into the small trashcan next to the chair, followed by all the tiny eraser dust particles. he's just plugged in your laptop when he hears you call out his name softly.

"hmm?" he calls back. "you want some coffee?" you ask and when dokyeom arches a brow at you, you wave your empty hands, "i'm done eating! can a girl not want a warm liquid post-meal?"

"fine, fine. i'll have some, thanks." he laughs as you glare at him, mumbling incoherencies about him.

"oh, right, i almost forgot to tell you," dokyeom pulls out his phone, ten minutes later when the two of you are settled on the couch, waiting for your steaming mugs to settle down a little. "there's a department-wide party this sunday, an end of year gathering or something. you should come, i hear the budget this year's crazy. it's at a fancy hotel and everything."

you narrow your eyes at dokyeom, "i don't know about that. work parties are a slog, dude. i can't stand to get drunk with the people who literally torture the creativity out of me."

"that's harsh, y/n. and an exaggeration."

"whatever…" you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, "i… i don't even have a date. it's kind of a short notice to find someone anyway–"

"i'll be your date," dokyeom offers, faster than either of you could comprehend his response. his ears flush, "um, i mean, i'll go with you, if you don't… mind."

"why would i mind? i just thought you'd have someone to go with already," you say and when you catch the shy look on your friend's face, "unless of course, nobody's asked you. which i totally understand."

"hey! i don't want to take names but i've had to tell some people no already. so don't–"

"oh? so you rejected the people who did ask you? i thought you were too nice to do that. "

"yeah, i did. i didn't want to go with them. i don't know them well enough to guarantee they'll be fun for the entire night. plus, it's messy going with someone from work. you agree once, who's to say they'll keep asking you for life?"

"i'm someone from work, too," you point out, averting your gaze to the coffee, watching the evaporation swirl around.

"you're different, silly," dokyeom chuckles out, arm hitting yours, "we're already messy. i knew you before work, and i'll know you long after. we're more than that, you know?"

that? whatever he meant, you find your heart soaring ever so much, "hm, i suppose you're not wrong. fine, i'll come to the party." if it's with you.

that night you find yourself obsessing over this conversation. what did dk mean we're already messy? you were messy? you knew he didn't mean that like a bad thing but the word unsettled you anyway. your feelings for him only made it harder to listen to him objectively, especially when he says stuff like we're more than that. more than what, exactly?

–

dokyeom's having a hell of a day, carrying around a headache he's had since this morning and a heavy to-do list that doesn't seem to be going anywhere despite the fact that he's been at his desk for about five hours now. he sits back with a grunt, taking his eyes off his screen for a moment to take a break.

as soon as he tunes back into the physical world around him, he overhears his coworkers chatting near his desk, instant coffeee in hand.

"yo, you're kidding! how'd you get her number finally?" ren, a newbie, elbows the man next to him. vernon, the man in question, is grinning too wide for his own good.

"i just asked her for it. i told her i had some important doubts about her new manuscript."

"that didn't annoy her?"

"nah, y/n's chill like that. she was super nice about it, too, telling me she would love to hear from me."

ren gasps dramatically, "no way, do you think she–"

dokyeom clears his throat with a start, having had enough as an eavesdropper for the day. he stands up, making eye-contact with vernon who shoots him a nonchalant smile. it pisses dokyeom off, how wasn't he bothered?

his headache's only getting worse so he decides to get himself something to eat while he's at it. some fresh air might help him. he shoots the pair a stiff smile as he leaves the office, hand clutching his phone a little too hard. as he gets into the elevator, he's alerted of a message.

speak of the devil, he thinks when your name pops up on his screen. am i expected to dress formal for this party? you ask.

only if u want to :) he shoots back.

… what kind of an answer is that.

an honest one. expectations are only as high as you want them to be.

you know i hate you right

enough to ask me to be ur date? <3 <3

you're befuddled on the other side of the chat, "who asked who?" you mumble, choosing to not respond to dokyeom's frustrating reply to your very genuine question.

dokyeom, on the other hand, is feeling much better now that he's had a chance to talk to you. where you're reserved about your feelings for him, dokyeom really couldn't be more transparent about them. or so he thinks. but really, he's convinced he couldn't be clearer about how he feels about you– instantaneous responses to your texts, making sure you eat on time, corresponding with your mom to reassure her of your good health, careful attention to what you're into at the time so he can buy you the things you refuse to splurge on.

to dokyeom, this was the clearest confession of his love for you. the only reason he hasn't vocalized it in person is because he doubts any good would come out of it. he's more than happy with the relationship he has with you, a safe enough distance but a warm closeness anyway. besides, he's pretty certain you think of him as more of a brother than anything. an older brother figure you've known since you were children. better to keep things the way they were. right?

–

dokyeom's increasily unsure about his convictions to keep things the same. maybe it had something to do with the fact that you look breathtaking tonight. you're adorned in the prettiest pink dress, eyes sparkling more than usual thanks to the glitter you'd dabbed on and hair cascading down to your shoulders in curls that has him a little weak in the knees.

he does visibly gape at you when you greet him at the door with a small smile. he's flustered enough to be out of words so you're left speaking to a shell of him. "hey, you're a little earlier than i imagined. i'm almost ready. come in though."

when he stands still despite your invitation, you frown. "dokyeom?" he bites his lip as he comes to and nods, walking in after you. "you good?"

"yeah, just a little nervous."

"nervous?"

"you look really pretty," he musters, reddening when your eyes widen at his honest confession, "i'm a little dizzy." the two statements are correlated but you don't pick up on that, instead becomes concerned. you take his arm and your cold touch on his arm only sends him further down his dazed condition.

"dizzy? that's no good. come sit," you pull him to the couch, making him take a seat. god, dokyeom thinks he's dreaming when you touch his cheek, "do you need medicine? warm tea? water?"

he clears his throat, "n-no, i'm fine," he lets himself fall against the cushions, closing his eyes against the rush in his veins. "just– you should go get ready. i'll be back to normal soon."

you look at him in confusion for a prolonged few seconds before giving up and doing as he said. when you come back, you have a lip gloss and heels on. "okay," you announce to the back of dokyeom's head, "i'm ready, dk."

he sits up quickly, head clearing up now. he turns around to you and smiles a cheerful smile that is much more like him. "alright! let's go!"

you watch him warily anyway, all the way to his car. "ah, your hair–" you reach out to the back of his head where some hair stuck out from his earlier meltdown. gently, you brush the disturbances away, fingers swift in their adminstrations. dokyeom thinks he might break down again, the gesture making him feel giddy all over again. it doesn't help when he feels your warm breath on his neck when you sigh, returning to your seat. "ok, no more hair casualities, we are set to go."

dokyeom can't afford to look up at you so he simply starts the car, keeping his head straight so he can drive the both of you to the venue safely.

being in a room bustling with people he knows really helps dokyeom, for as soon as you reach the hall, he takes off in a rush, something about having to greet everyone that's important. you don't know to feel about his flight but you manage to shrug it off, trusting him enough to know he'll be back before long.

you station yourself near the refreshments, finding yourself a flute of champagne and some hors d'oeuvres to keep you company while dokyeom does what he does. you find yourself mildly enjoying yourself, people-watching all sorts of groups and downing your second serving of champagne, when you're joined by someone.

it's kitty, a coworker you're less than fond of, thanks to her loud mouth and overwhelming beauty. she's dressed in an immaculate white dress, face glowing even in the harsh light as she smiles at you. "y/n!"

"kitty," you acknowledge her with a cordial nod of your own, hoping this wouldn't take too long.

"how've you been? you look much better than the last time i saw, so not too bad i hope!"

your smile sours, "i'm fine, kitty. nice to see you're feeling as chatty as usual."

"i am! what better ocassion than a party to be social," she remarks pointedly and you contain a sigh. kitty was an important coworker, unfortunately for you, with her in charge for your public image and general likeability. it really should be criminal how little she likes you for someone who has to make sure you appeal to the masses.

"i didn't even think i'd see you around. you have a date?"

"i'm here with dokyeom, yeah."

this seems to startle kitty, because she's speechless for a moment. "dokyeom? he said yes to you?"

ignoring whatever undertones of disbelief kitty's giving off, you roll your eyes, "it was more that he forced me to come with him, but yeah, sure, however you wanna say it."

"wow, dokyeom's really kind to do that. he even turned me down. he must really treasure your friendship."

now you've had enough of her insinuations, so you cut the chat short. "sorry, kitty, i need to use the bathroom. excuse me."

you break away from her, feeling the weight of her glare at your aloofness. you really don't care for her snarky remarks usual, long-accustomed to the kind of gossip she likes to generate. but tonight, your tolerance was low. you didn't want to think about why dokyeom asked you to come to the party, and you certainly didn't want kitty's suggestions marinate in your mind. but it's too late, you feel your chest tighten at the thought of dokyeom feeling pity for you, asking you to come because that's just how kind he was, and you, his best charity case.

dokyeom spots you from across the room where he's eventually recovered from his weak condition. he feels guilt spike through his veins when he sees you storm away from kitty, who's no doubt spewed some obnoxious nonsense to make you leave the room with that tense expression of yours.

he excuses himself from his conversation to run off after you, managing to catch you as you leave the hall.

"y/n!" he calls out, catching ahold of your shoulder. "where are you going?"

you stop, startled by dokyeom's interception. you slowly turn around, trying your best to neutralize your expression. "um, just using the bathroom. i drank that champagne a little too fast."

"oh, you sure you're okay? i saw you talking to kitty earlier and i know how frustrating she can be."

you laugh mirthlessly, "i'll be okay as long as i don't run into her in the next five months or so." you turn away, presumably toward the washroom. you'd hoped your explanation would be enough to soothe dokyeom's curiosity but then you hear him follow after you.

"dk?"

"i'll go with you."

"to the washroom?"

"uh, yeah. i'll walk you in case you can't find your way back."

"they have signs everywhere and the party's in the biggest hall here– i– whatever, i need to pee too bad to argue with you right now."

from thereon, dokyeom doesn't leave your side for a second. you don't know what to think of it but you don't complain because your mood's much better when you spend your time by his side, shitting on the ocassional passerby and laughing at each other's jokes.

dokyeom regrets leaving you by yourself in the first place, especially because he's almost too certain that kitty had told you he'd turned her invitation down. it was awkward to even look at her, let alone talk to her. but then again, she's never been one to care about other people's comfort because about halfway into the night, you spot her trailing back to your table with a few people following her.

the group crowds your table and you find yourself pressed against a stranger who no doubt works with kitty. he shoots you a sleazy smile and you're grateful when you feel dokyeom subtly pull you closer toward him with a hand around your waist. what you don't expect is him to leave him arm there, draped down your back, finger resting against the small of lower back, sending chills up your spine.

"hey, you two! what're you upto, you've been stuck to this table for the entire night," kitty laughs.

dokyeom notices vernon among the group, much to his chagrin, smiling at you boyishly. you wave back at vernon with a soft chuckle, thankful that not everyone in this crowd was a snoozefest.

"just talking," is dokyeom's curt response. "are y'all enjoying the party?" he adresses the larger group, making it a point to not look at kitty.

"i wish there was more real food," someones pipes in with a grunt and people laugh in agreement.

"the wine's really good though. expensive stuff," vernon points out, looking at the wine glass propped between you and dokyeom.

"yeah, it's maybe the best thing about this party," you chime in with a smile. before dokyeom can somehow bring up the fact that he'd been drinking out of the same glass as you, ren gasps out loud, "oh my god, guys, the mistletoe man's back!"

you look around in confusion and find a man dressed in green overalls walking around with some mistletoe stuck his chest, neatly tied with a red ribbon stuck to his chest. "the fuck?" you mumble out and dokyeom laughs at your bewilderment. "it's a stupid tradition," dokyeom says softly to you, "heard someone say it's to foster closer connections between workers."

"by forcing them to kiss?" you whisper back with a grimace as you watch a pair break away from their kiss with bitter expressions. it's fine though because they look at each other's disgust and break into laughter, their table cheering them on.

"i think it's cute!" kitty remarks, watching the man as he turns around from a few tables over.

"shit, i think he's coming over here," ren curses. "why's that a bad thing?" kitty questions, smiling, eyes glued to the side of dokyeom's face. you might gouge your eyes out one of these days. you're too busy ignoring the ruckus kitty's causing with her frantic giggles as the mistetoe man approaches her. but then he goes past her and she goes silent, eyes coming to still behind you. that's when you realize the mistletoe man's standing square between you and dokyeom.

you turn around to the man with wide eyes but he simply smiles, "the mistletoe man knows when he sees two lovers!" you don't know what he means till you become aware of dokyeom's arm around you. he pulls away in surprise and his face is red when you look up at dokyeom.

"this is stupid," you murmur, hoping he'll agree and you wouldn't have to participate in this tradition.

"kiss! kiss! kiss!" ren starts a chant and everyone but kitty and vernon is quick to join in. dokyeom looks bewildered at the unison, and he looks at you, then down at your lips. "we don't have to do this," he comforts you.

"do you want to?" you ask him under your breath. you feel yourself flushing.

"i'll do it if you want to."

you hate how agreeable dokyeom is sometimes, wishing he would decide for you, for this once. you don't want to think about all the eyes on you, the whispering that's no doubt been reignited. everyone knows you and dokyeom have been friends and maybe something more for years now, but to witness conclusive proof is thrilling to them.

you feel frozen with the weight of the decision upon you. but then kitty opens her stupid mouth, "ah, dokyeomie, you don't have to do something you don't want to–"

that spurs you on, you find yourself pressing yourself against dokyeom, raising yourself to his height so you can press your lips to his. he meets you halfway, as if he'd been waiting for you to do exactly this, his large hand finding your cheek so he can seal the deal.

this goes without saying, you've never kissed dokyeom before, but the way it feels so natural has you questioning if this really was the first time. his lips are pillowy against yourself, his breath hitting your face sweetly when you finally pull away. his eyes are hooded like you've never seen them and you really wish you could memorize this feeling, ingrain it into your mind for later.

but the moment breaks when you hear the table around you erupt with all kinds of reactions. you don't care to look though, too busy with your own reaction to handle. your heart's fluttering but your eyes feel watery when you pull away from dokyeom. you don't know what to think of all the lines you've been worrying about, the line between you and dokyeom cracking the moment you leaned into his lips.

–

dokyeom's scared for his life right now. after the chaos around you settled a little, you'd looked at him and quietly asked if he could drive you home right now. he'd been quick to agree, following you out of the door without bidding anyone goodbye. but you're silent the entire walk to his car, not answering him when he asks if you're okay.

now that you're settled in the car, he pauses before starting the engine. "y/n," he starts softly. you focus on your breathing, staring down at your hands blankly. "i'm sorry."

this makes you look up at him, mouth slightly ajar. "...why are you sorry?" you ask quietly, lips set in a narrow line.

"i– that must have made you uncomfortable. i didn't know what else to–"

"i was the one who kissed you," you comment, looking away and out the window, hands now fists in your lap. dokyeom watches as you tuck some stray strands of hair behind your ear, "i should be sorry."

should be, because you weren't a bit sorry about the kiss. the circumstances that caused it? sure. but the kiss itself wasn't something you would undo.

dokyeom doesn't know what to say because there's so much to say. where does he even start? "i thought you always saw me as a… brother."

"what?" your eyes hold a sea of disbelief in them but then as you blink back at a solemn dokyeom, you think it's not that crazy for him to think that after all. "well, i used to. how could i not? mom had drilled it into my system to rely on you like you were family."

dokyeom hums, "...and?"

"i mean, i clearly don't think… i don't have the feelings of a sister toward you," you mumble, your cheeks on fire when you hear your poor phrasing. "if i did, it would be a problem that i wanted to kiss back there."

"you did?" dokyeom gapes and you look at him with a slight tilt of your head. "i– obviously!" you tell him.

he swallows, "wow. i don't even know what to think–" it's his turn to look at his hands that are trembling, "honest to god, i've never harboured anything but romantic feelings for you, y/n." he says this, head lowered as if in shame, ears revealing how embarassed he was. "i love your mother, but i swear she wanted to kill me the way she encouraged you to call me your brother when you were out with me."

you grimace, holding back a chuckle, "i'm sorry…"

"don't be," dokyeom sounds truly defeated, as if the work of hiding his feelings from you had finally caught up with him. "i'm sorry i didn't make myself clearer sooner. never imagined we'd talk about this because we got bullied into our first kiss."

you sigh, nodding as you mutter an agreement. dokyeom rises from his slouch slowly, coming to lock eyes with you. one of his hands comes to rest atop your own fist, prying it open so that you were holding his. you feel warm beyond imagination, feeling like you might burst open with the intensity of your feelings for dokyeom, wondering how you'd ever managed to keep them secret.

"can…" you stop, voice hoarse, licking your lips nervously, "will you kiss me? for real this time?"

it doesn't take dokyeom a moment's hesitation to close the distance betwen you, his soft lips back on yours, not soon enough for you to get used to the gentle saccharine daze that overcame you. your unoccupied hand card through his hair, similar to a few hours ago when you'd been fixing it, but this time dokyeom lets out the mewl he'd been contatining last time.

he pulls away with a somewhat grunt, eyes starry, "there's no way you didn't know what your were doing." you look back at him, a little breathless with a look of complete confusion.

he sighs, giving in and rest his head against yours, "when you were fixing my hair earlier, i thought i'd die of a heart attack. finally give up and move on from you, if only in death."

"don't say that, dk," you scold him, hands around him in concern, "and i don't understand why– i mean i feel like we've touched… in other ways before so–"

"i don't know either!" he exclaims, "i just– you looked so fucking gorgeous tonight and then you kept being oblivious to how obviously down bad i am for you– i just couldn't."

"hey, you weren't obvious if i didn't know! that's unfair…" you mumble, looking away with flushed cheeks. it didn't make sense to you. but dokyeom simply laughs into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, not much of a change for your dynamic. you'd hugged dokyeom countless times before but now you feel unimaginably closer to him, like you were actually holding him, the entirety of him in your arms. it was incredible, the warmth that blossomed inside you in the silence that surrounded you. it was love.

love shows up even in the early mornings when you're with dokyeom. he'd slept over after your date last night, when you'd insisted you would be too lonely to sleep if he promptly took off (like a gentleman, he commented). you'd laid in bed till 2 am, kissing and talking the night away, his hands finding their indents underneath your worn-out tee.

you wake up to his nose snuggled in your neck, breathing softly in slumber, hair sticking out every which way. you can't help the loving giggle that leaves you, making him stir in his sleep, arm coming to sit atop your bare stomach.

"sweet boy," you mumble, placing a kiss atop his forehead and watching in awe as his brown eyes come to life at the action. "you awake?" you jokingly ask but dokyeom responds with a groggy grunt, smiling with fluttering eyes.

you run a finger through his hair. he groans, "don't wake up yet." you laugh, stroking a strand behind his ear, "but i'm already–"

he cuts you off with a pout, "no, don't wake up, love. please, want to sleep some more."

you sigh and shift impossibly closer to him. "all right, then. can't argue with that logic."

with that, you doze off again. how you manage to fall right back asleep is beyond you, though it might have something to do with the fact that dokyeom's presence brings you a serenity you didn't know you could feel, a feeling that's better than the soft comforter that he himself had picked out for your bed. his arms hold you close, the sweetness melting your heart the whole time you dream, dreaming of dokyeom and of love.

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spideyhexx · 3 months

Text

fem!reader saccharine

Billy knows your whole thing is being one big tease to him, to other too, but mostly him, and he is close to losing it.

He already had a rough morning after getting barely any sleep. Why, he wasn't sure, but the heaviness in his head was weighing down on his day from the very start. He forgot to pay the innkeeper, borrowing money from Jesse to pay off his room, but now he owed Jesse money. Billy planned on going to the saloon later that day to play poker, but he was dreading it. He knew his tiredness would make it harder for him to play and play well at that. Most of the gang left him alone, seeing the permanent furrow in his brow and the way his shirt wasn't even buttoned right, it was clear it was an off day for him.

But then there was you. You knew he was having a bad day, but you couldn't help it. You always teased him and he always bit back. Not as hard as you would hope, but the game was always a thing. You follow him around that day, having nothing of importance to do for yourself.

He thought it akin to a puppy following you around and every time he turned and saw your smiling face, he'd roll his eyes, his jaw clenching so tight, you were sure he was gonna break his teeth any minute.

"Bonney, do you think I'd look better with your hat?" You run up to catch up to him as he walks.

"No," he replies, his eyes looking anywhere but you.

"Really? Cause I was thinkin'-"

"Can you stop followin' me?" Billy interrupts, his gaze still ahead, so he misses your eye-roll.

"Listen, I have nothin' else to do so I-"

"Well, 'm goin' to take a piss, so I don't think you should follow me," he says, his tone sharp and he looks at you, giving you the quickest, fakest smile he could have. It only brightened your grin.

"Oh, c'mon, I'll just look the other way, I've been around you guys far too long to get weird about that," you tell him, and he seems to know it's the truth, he can’t fight it. He shakes his head. "Leave," and he points back to where his and your horses were.

You're not that easy. Billy knows it too, but he prays to God that you'll see how annoyed he is in this moment and how he wants his time alone. You poke his arm, then jab your elbow at him, "I think I'll stay with you, Bonney."

"I need-"

"I can keep quiet if that's what you really want, but I think it's best if I stick around, what if-"

"Will you just shut up?!" His voice raises, stilling his walking to turn fully towards you. Your eyes are widened a little, but you don't answer his question.

"There's no way in hell you can keep quiet, 'cause all you do is talk. You bother me so much like...," he trails off, then lets out a harsh chuckle, swallowing his words before he spits them out at you, "you're...you're like a pest. I don't get it one bit how anyone likes you. ‘M…’m done with it, I can’t I…you really are a fuckin’ pest.”

His words sink into you. It stings, though you know he's got merit to his words. That you shouldn't have bothered him as much as you were today, that you should have just left when he told you to, but you thought it as much a game as playing poker would be. But Billy is fuming. You can see the anger in his eyes, the way his words rolled harsh on his tongue, the only time you've heard him speak like that was to people the gang was rivaling.

It's hard to stop the tears from welling in your eyes. Your chest burns and you feel the familiar ache in your heart. You try to stop it, but you've never been very good at that. "Pest...okay. 'M sorry, Billy," you say, your voice breaking on his name as your tears start to stream, falling to your cheeks as you sniffle. Once it’s starts, you know you really can’t stop it. You turn your heel and walk away from him. Part of you didn't want him to see that side of you, but it was also too late. Billy's heart drops at the sight. His words echo in his own head, realizing how bad they sound. "Shit, wait," he says, but you keep walking.

Billy's shoulder slump. He's never seen you cry, let alone speak so quietly. He was beginning to think nothing ever upset you until now. He knows he lashed out, but he hopes you at the very least understand why he did. However, to him, he knows he shouldn't have said that. You're a piece of glue for the gang, even he could admit that. Your pure nature was friendly, he knows why people like you so much, but he still said what he said. He thinks about going after you, but he can't. His feet are stuck to the ground as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Shit," he mumbles to himself, rubbing his hand over his face, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

let's chat about billy, here :)

#billy the kid #saccharine #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney #william h bonney x you #william h bonney imagine #william h bonney x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #william h bonney smut #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #william bonney #william bonney smut #william bonney x you #william bonney x reader #billy bonney x reader #billy bonney

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toomuchracket · 3 months

Text

secret admirer (dad!ross x reader fluff)

day 1 of valentine's week by bff @abiiors!! in this one... the kids want to know how you and ross got together. cute as shit. enjoy <3

it's at dinnertime when you're first asked the question.

ross is quietly coaxing keir to finish his peas, to minimal success. eilidh swallows a mouthful of gravy-soaked mash and turns to look at you curiously. “mummy… how did you and dad meet?”

“you already know, bean,” you take a sip of your wine and smile at her. “met dad and your uncles when i helped design the stage for one of their first shows.”

ross takes a break from lecturing your son about the merits of eating your five-a-day to look at you and wink. there's a warmth in those dark eyes of his - the same one that got you hooked on him in the first place, actually - and you know he's thinking about that fateful first meeting too. “yeah, when i had to save mum, eilidh,” he chuckles. “from matty talking about his vision at a hundred miles an hour. her eyes were proper glazed over and everything, you know.”

“they still go like that when he talks to you now sometimes, mummy,” keir adds, still pushing peas around his plate. his dad and sister laugh, while your jaw falls open at the fact you've been clocked by your four year old.

he's not wrong, though.

eilidh's giggles fade into soft hums. “but how did you end up being boyfriend and girlfriend?”

ross’s eyes meet yours again. he smirks, taking a sip of his own wine. “d'you want to tell the story, love?” he asks, foot sliding up your leg under the table, flirty. “or shall i tell them how i swept you off your feet?”

“oh, is that what it was?” you tease, trapping his leg between your own.

“of course.”

you laugh. “you and i remember it differently, then. but alright,” you stretch, shuffling in your seat before looking at your kids’ anticipated little faces. “here's what happened…”

2013

“should we do something different for valentine's day?”

you turn to look incredulously at matty, exhaling your cigarette smoke. “is further context required there, or are you asking me out? because absolutely not, if so.”

“oh, charming. thank god i see you as a little sister and no more,” matty winces, taking a drag of his own cigarette before he speaks again. “i mean for the show on the 14th. we could do, like, pink lighting instead of white, or something.”

you hum. “i don't hate the idea. but i think sticking with the black and white thing is maybe a good idea for now. cohesion, recognition, establishing identity as you gear up to release the album, all that jazz, yeah?”

“good point.”

“i do like the pink, though. maybe we could do something with it in the future?”

“yeah. i'll keep it in mind. usual staging it is, then,” matty turns to face you, resting a shoulder on the brick wall. “so, given that you've theoretically rejected me…

you roll your eyes.

“... who are you seeing on valentine's day?”

“nobody. we've got a gig, remember?” you ash your cigarette glumly. “i'll be selling t-shirts with your face on them up the back of the venue all night.”

“and i love you - platonically - for that,” your friend grins. “but what about after the show?”

“after?”

“yeah.”

you ponder. “probably just going home to shower off the residual weed smell i'll inevitably take on, to be honest.”

matty laughs; his face drops when he realises you're not kidding. “oh. you're serious.”

“mhmm.”

“but,” he looks baffled. “you're twenty-three. you're cute, objectively. you're sweet. you're fun. there's really nobody you want to spend valentine's day with?”

well… your lips part of their own accord as if to speak; you quickly snap them shut before you make a sound. no. you can't tell anyone. especially matty, of all people.

apparently, though, you don't close your mouth fast enough - your friend notices, and giggles, eyes lighting up. “who is he? go on, tell me. promise i won't tell anyone, honest.”

“not a chance.”

“pleeeeeeeeeease?”

“no, matthew,” you take a final drag of your cigarette before stamping it out. “i'm never telling anyone, because it'll never go anywhere between me and him anyway, and thus i am perfectly fine just letting the crush i have fade without acting on it. i'll develop another one soon, anyway.”

no you won't. you've never fancied someone as much in your life as you fancy…

“there you are. was wondering where you'd gotten to, matty,” ross wanders round the side of the building, relief evident on his face. it seems to light up when he sees you, but that's most likely your brain playing tricks on you. “oh. hiya, love. didn't know you were in today, s'nice to see you.”

love?!

shut up. it's ross. he calls everyone that, dipshit.

you clear your throat. “hi, ross. s'nice to see you too. you look… well.”

you pray neither of the boys noticed the awkward pause while you came up with an alternative for “devastatingly attractive”, or that your voice didn't sound as small and squeaky as it sounded to you.

thankfully, neither of them mention it. ross just smiles, and all you can do is focus on not squealing at how cute his dimples are. “thanks. you look good. hair's nice like that.”

“oh,” you self-consciously touch the ponytail you hastily shoved your hat-messy hair into earlier. “thank you.”

he smiles again. “so, what are you gonna develop another of? were you talking about work?”

you say “yes” at the same time the gobshite next to you says “yeah, but then we moved onto talking about how she has no valentine's day plans but she also won't tell whoever she has a crush on that she wants to shag them because she thinks it’s unrequited.”

for fuck's sake.

sighing, you facepalm. ross blinks. “fair enough.”

“you don't think she should tell him?” matty looks aghast.

“what i think is that you should stop pestering her about it,” ross looks pointedly at matty, then turns to you. “but - and i don't want to overstep the mark here, love…”

“no, no, it's fine.”

“... you’ll never get what you really want unless you ask for it,” he finishes, a pleasant smile on his face. “what have you got to lose by doing so, anyway?”

this. our friendship. potentially my job, if i fuck it up enough.

“yeah, i suppose,” you murmur hesitantly. “i'll consider it.”

and you do - in fact, you're still considering it when you next see ross, during setup for the gig on the big day itself. he appears when you're pushing the box light into position on the tiny stage, quickly laying down his bass to run and help you, despite your protests that you've got everything under control.

seeing his arms flex as he works, though, and the way the stark white light somehow manages to warm up those dark eyes? you most definitely do not. still, you refuse to say anything to him then. or before the show, when he automatically passes you a beer so you can be included in the pre-gig cheers. or afterwards, when he risks being pounced upon by drunken fans just so he can help you pack up the merch stall, cracking jokes despite his tiredness.

it's only when you're loading the boxes of t-shirts into adam's car that you actually start to think that mentioning the crush to ross might not be a bad thing. you close the boot with a weary sigh, turning to face ross and high-five him - like you always do - with gratitude. and then he does something… strange.

he hugs you.

it's not a long hug, and definitely one of the “thanks, mate” variety, but still. it's not a common thing to happen between the two of you, ross’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and your waist and pulling you into his chest. it's warm. cosy. safe. and as soon as he lets go, you miss him.

before you get a chance to dwell on that, though, he speaks. “you coming to the pub with us now?”

“us?” your brow furrows. “who's us?”

“everyone except adam and waughy,” ross grins. “you're not the only one with no valentine's plans, love,” his face contorts into panic. “wait, fuck, i just assumed, because you said last week-”

“ross, relax, babe,” you smile, beating yourself up internally for the way the pet name just slipped out; you blame the joy that fizzed up in your stomach when he essentially admitted he's single. “i'm coming to the pub.”

he smiles again, relief evident in his eyes. “alright. good. i think we'll have a good night.”

you do, actually, despite matty monologuing the whole walk there about “you should just phone that guy you like and tell him. for the love of god, at least one of us needs to pull tonight. s'depressing if we don't”. it's actually george who manages that first, disappearing after the first round with a redhead and returning, lipstick-stained and gleefully dazed, half an hour later. matty's next, chatting up girls at the bar and collecting phone numbers by the handful, pointing out vaguely handsome men to you with “yes? no? maybe?” to no avail.

ross doesn't pull at all.

not for lack of trying from the female clientele in the pub, though - every time he leaves the table, you watch heads turn in his direction, and some bodies following. envy tinges your vision green whenever a girl approaches him, but you needn't worry; no matter how pretty or persistent or personable the girls are, ross politely chats as he waits for the drinks, bids them goodbye, and comes back to you. well, to the table. where he sits next to you.

it makes you feel good. so good, in fact, that you decide to tell him how you feel, right then and there. you take another sip of your wine - dutch courage and all - and rest your elbow on the table and your head on your hand, facing ross. “i'm glad i came out tonight.”

“so am i,” he mirrors your pose, smiling. god, you love his dimples. “it's been a good night.”

“yeah. not a bad valentine's day at all.”

ross giggles. “as good as it gets for singles,” he takes a sip of his pint, then looks at you a bit more seriously. “you spoken to that guy yet? the one you like?”

you bite down a giggle, shaking your head. “d'you think i should? ask him out?”

“if you really like him, yeah.”

“but,” you look down at the table, absentmindedly running your index finger round the rim of your glass. “what if he doesn't like me?”

“why wouldn't he?” ross's voice is soft - so are his eyes, you look up to discover. “you're great.”

“really?”

he nods. “really great.”

your heart glows. your face does the same. “thank you, ross.”

he shrugs. “i'm just telling the truth, love. now,” he grins, tapping your phone. “ask him.”

bless him.

you exhale, smiling. “alright,” you turn round to compose yourself, then look back at ross with a smile. “would you like to go for dinner with me?”

for a second, you falter as ross's brow furrows. “what, now? like a kebab- oh,” his jaw drops, and he blinks a few times. “really? it's me that you have a crush on?”

“yeah,” you bite the inside of your cheek, nervous. “is that… really bad?”

“hmm? no, no, not at all! just surprising, s'all,” ross takes your free hand in his own. he looks dazed, but he's genuinely smiling. “i had no idea you liked me like that.”

“and here i was thinking i was doing a shit job at hiding it.”

ross laughs, softly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb; warmth erupts under your skin wherever he touches. he looks at you, so tenderly you want to look away. “yes.”

your turn to be confused. “yes i was doing a shit job at hiding my crush on you? or…?”

“no, love,” ross chuckles, squeezing your hand. “yes, i'd love to go for dinner with you. tomorrow too soon?”

you feel weightless, joyous, positively giddy. but you have to stay cool, so you simply beam at him. “tomorrow's perfect.”

present day

“...so, we went for dinner - pasta, before you ask, keir - and that was it. dad said he wanted to be my boyfriend before we'd even gotten to the tiramisu,” you smile at the memory. “and then we were like that for a while, and then we got married, and then we had you two. and now, here we are.”

“that's it?” keir frowns at you, then looks up at his dad. “but you said you swept mum off her feet.”

ross snorts, ruffling his son's hair. “yeah, not literally, keeks. i just meant that she was very impressed by me.”

“i don't get it.”

“well, ask matty to explain metaphors to you when you next see him, then.”

you wince (ross laughs at that), turning to your daughter, preoccupied with petting ash the cat, who climbed onto her lap halfway through your talk. “thoughts, eils?”

“hmm,” she makes a face. “it's not a very exciting story, mum.”

“cute, though, no?”

“kind of, i guess.”

“wow, you two are hard to impress,” you sigh, turning to ross and smiling despite your kids’ boredom. “worked out well for us, though, didn't it?”

“absolutely, love. couldn't have worked out any better,” ross leans over the table to kiss you; you return it with relish.

“ewwwwwwww! gross!”

“dad, please don’t do that to mum in front of me ever again.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #dad!ross #eilidh #keir #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fluff #ross x reader #valentine75

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hotteoki · 11 months

Text

your personal healthcare companion (c.s.b.)

pairing: soobin x fem reader (pronouns only used at the last bit so you can skip it if you'd prefer a gn reader)

wc: 1.4k

cw: none afaik

notes: i just see him as tadashi idk hes so tadashi coded

for @yrhome : have a soob

beomgyu nudged your ribs from beside you, drawing your attention away from the board and mr seo's words, "wanna ditch the last two classes after lunch?" you checked your timetable, ms kim, she couldn't give two shits about her students. nodding, you placed it back in your bag, "sure. where are you thinking?" he hummed, "anywhere where we won't be caught." you didn't need him to name drop to know he was talking about his roommate, soobin.

soobin wasn't a typical student in a typical university, unlike you and beomgyu. he excelled in all his classes and was extremely popular amongst teachers, always getting gold merits and compliments anywhere he went by students and parents alike. it was how he got accepted into the best technology institute in the country. he had never approved of beomgyu's carefree influence on you, although he knew it would be difficult to change your minds.

you had met soobin a couple of times, and he was cute, you admitted. it was obvious to anyone, you could be a bit biased, given your teeny, tiny crush on him. you would rather die than tell beomgyu that, though. you were fairly certain he would scream dramatically in agony and horror, then proceed to give a forty minute speech on how he was cuter, and how you should have a crush on him instead. his usual unprovoked salty comments about your practically non-existent relationship with soobin was enough for your brain to handle.

"i was thinking the seaside? the one that's not too far," beomgyu leaned back, rocking slightly on his chair. you began discreetly packing your things up, "sure." as soon as the bell rang, the two of you made your way down the stairs. checking for teachers and security, you managed to sneak out on your bicycles by the back gate.

a few meters away from the seaside, you noticed a familiar figure ahead of you. "beomgyu," you called. he groaned in response, "i know." both of you gradually stopped in front of soobin leaning against his car, an exasperated expression on his face. "aren't you two supposed to be in school?" he sighed, crossing his arms. beomgyu dismounted his bicycle before racking his brain for an answer, "it was crazy. a rat infestation happened and thousands of rats swarmed the classrooms, and we had to run for our lives. they even said they might shut the school down."

"not because you just felt like ditching?" soobin's gaze switched to you, softening slightly while his fingers fiddled with his glasses clutched in his hand. after months of not seeing him, you had forgotten just how cute he really was. you cursed the unfortunate situation that you were wearing your drabby school uniform and not a decent outfit. you turned to beomgyu for an answer, certain that the second you opened your mouth you'd start blabbing whatever nonsense came in your head. you swallowed thickly as you took a secret glance at soobin, oh no, here come the feelings.

"no, it was definitely the rats," beomgyu pushed his grown-out highlighted hair back, not convincing at the slightest bit. "oh really now?" soobin asked sarcastically. "yes really," beomgyu fired back, "how'd you even know we were going to be here?" soobin rolled his eyes, "not the point, get in." he opened the door to the back seat, waiting. before you could follow beomgyu into the back seats, soobin placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you, "sit in the passenger's seat."

a sound of protest could be heard from inside the car, "that's where i always sit!" "well, not today. you don't deserve that seat," he replied simply while making his way to the other side of the car and opening the door for you. you smiled, praying your blush wasn't that obvious as you walked around the car, taking your seat.

after nearly fifteen minutes of being in the car with you having no clue where you were going, you began scrolling on your phone to pass time. "where are we even going?" beomgyu whined, kicking soobin's seat gently to make a point. "you'll see," soobin glared at him from the rearview mirror, "and stop kicking my seat unless you want me to drop you off here and you can walk home by yourself". that shut beomgyu up.

"we're here," soobin announced, turning off the engine as he parked in the carpark of his institute. "what are we doing here?" you had never been here before, and you were definitely excited to see soobin's workspace. "just visiting," he replied nonchalantly. "why? i wanna go home," beomgyu dragged out his vowels, clearly fed up. "i'm really considering changing the locks to our apartment," soobin muttered to you. you didn't fail to notice his genuine smile at your laugh.

"this is taehyun, he's a student from two years below, but we share a work room, he's your year, actually," soobin introduced as you stepped into a fairly large room, spare pieces of metal scattered everywhere, along with a few gadgets hung up on walls. taehyun looked up momentarily to wave, before lowering his head and continuing working on his machine. "what are you working on?" you asked curiously.

"it's an ironing-folding machine. i mean, we have washing machine, drying machine, but we've never had ironing or folding machine, and this machine does just that. 2 in 1 as well," taehyun gave it a pat, a proud grin plastered on his face. "you have my undivided attention," beomgyu practically hopped over, eager to know more. "you are so lazy," soobin shook his head. beomgyu only stuck out his tongue.

"come on, i have to show you something," soobin guided you away, leading you to his corner of the room. he pointed at a little red carrier hidden behind his stacks of papers and chairs, "there." "what's that?” you stepped closer, examining it. "pinch me." you turned to stare at soobin, unsure if you heard him clearly, "what?" "pinch me, it’s part of the thing."

you did so, earning an "ouch!" from him. as planned, the box began to open, and a white, sweet-looking robot stepped out. it began walking towards the two of you, stopping a few feet away and waving, "hello, i am baymax. your personal healthcare companion. i was alerted for the need of attention when you said 'ouch'." "it's so cute!" you gushed, stepping closer to examine 'baymax'.

a screen popped up on its body, "on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?" "one," soobin replied. "i will scan you now," its head moved up and down on soobin's body, "scan complete. you have a slight epidermal abrasion on your forearm, along with unusual sped-up heart palpitations. my scan suggests it is related to emotional feelings of attraction towards-" as baymax adjusted its body to point at you, soobin interrupted panickedly, "i am satisfied with my care."

upon hearing those words, baymax waddled back to its charging port. "you like me?" you looked up at soobin's avoiding eyes. "no?" "yes he does!" taehyun yelled from outside the room. "don't leave the door open, stupid," beomgyu laughed from the doorframe, shutting it. soobin shut his eyes, holding back a sigh.

"you're not playing with me right?" you had to be sure. "yeah, uh, yeah, i've liked you for a long time now," soobin held his hands to his face, covering his reddening cheeks. "you're kidding, i thought you didn't like me back," you gaped. he peeked from the gaps between his fingers, "huh?" "soobin, i've had a crush on you for like probably over a year now," you let out a laugh as you said, surprised this wasn't a dream. "oh," he put his hands down, "oh."

"at least they're finally confessing," taehyun leaned against his desk, eyes flickering to the now shut door of the room where you and soobin were. "i know right? i had to deal with her heart eyes and love sick sighs whenever we saw soobin," beomgyu brushed his bangs out of his face. "i'm pretty sure it was love at first sight for soobin, he would not shut up about her ever since he met her," taehyun laughed. "are you serious? so the reason i have to deal with their giggles and smooches is because of me? i'm too influential," beomgyu shook his head, disappointed at himself. "whatever, they're happy now, i guess," taehyun shrugged.

"you know what? we deserve our happiness too. tell you what, i'll be your first investor in your invention," beomgyu placed a hand on taehyun's shoulder. after a few moments of consideration, they shook hands. "it's a deal."

#soobin #soobin x reader #txt #txt x reader #tomorrow by together smau #tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together x reader #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together drabbles #txt smau #soobin smau #soobin x reader smau #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #huening kai

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

Text

The Demon Brothers + Punishment (Part 1)

PART TWO HERE

Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan x Gender Neutral Reader (separately)

Genre: NSFW Headcanons

Summary: How and why the older brothers would go about punishing you

Content/Warnings: dom/sub dynamic with sub reader, spanking, toys, degradation, fingering, overstim, y’know the usual punishment stuff

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors

Lucifer

He low key takes it too seriously

Very stern but gentle

(Unless he’s particularly angry of course)

“You know why I’m punishing you, yes? I need you to learn from your mistakes, my love, that’s what good little pets do.”

The severity of the punishment depends on the offense you committed

Something small will likely result in him making you cum on his fingers after you’ve apologized profusely

Then he’ll treat you to his cock

But when you mess up big time

Ooooh boooy

That sadism really comes out

Collars, leashes, handcuffs, you name it he’ll use it

He needs to be in a particular mood for his sadism to come out, but when it does it’s all or nothing

He’ll either be kissing your forehead gently or pushing you down with a foot on your chest while he toys with the remote of a vibrator

No in between

He’s actually not super into spanking. Although he’s not opposed to it, it’s not his go-to

He finds there are plenty of other, more humiliating ways to teach you a lesson

And he intends to show you all of them

“Now, now, no whining. You did this to yourself, my dear. Take your punishment now, or else you’ll only make your situation even more dire.”

Mammon

As much as Mammon likes to play rough with you, rarely ever will he actually punish you

He prefers to be playful, if a bit mean spirited at times

You’ll often have a couple of bruises or bites, but that’s to be expected; usually nothing more

So, what exactly merits a punishment from Mammon?

Well, the first option is to ask for it

He’ll happily oblige, but he’ll start slow in the beginning and ask you if you’re okay at least four times before he actually gets going

The other option is to make him jealous

If he sees you getting a little too friendly with another demon he’s sure to lose it

Drag it out for as long as you can

That’ll make him even angrier

Double points if you act oblivious about it later

The second you’re home alone he’s bending you over his lap and spanking you until itll hurt to sit down for the next two days

And he’ll make you apologize after each one

When he decides he’s had enough with that he’ll move on to roughly shoving his fingers in you

He’s going much too fast, but he doesn’t care

You deserve it for pissing him off like that

And he’ll talk down to you the entire time, making sure you’ve been thoroughly humiliated

“This is what little sluts like you get for acting out! Maybe next time you think of pulling a stunt like that you’ll remember how this feels.”

Leviathan

Oh this sweet baby loves you far too much to hurt you!

Punishments are so incredibly rare with Levi

You could ask, yes, but he’ll be so nervous there’s only a half chance he’ll actually go through with it

“O-Oh my stars, are you ok?! I-I know, I know I haven’t actually done anything yet, but…gah! I’m just so worried about you!”

Sweet boy

That means your only option is to earn your punishment

The best way to do that is to get him on a day when he’s already mad about something

Maybe Mammon stole one of his figurines to sell, or maybe he’s frustrated about a certain level of a game

That’s the best time to misbehave

Leviathan is rather possessive, even more so that Mammon, so the same tactics would work on him tenfold

Leviathan usually isn’t very active in his punishments

Instead he’ll tie you up on his bed and leave you squirming with at least three vibrators assaulting your sex

He’ll have the remotes with him at all times, but after a while of playing with them he’ll just leave them on the maximum speed while he ignores you to game

And he can get very, very invested in his games

You might be there for thirty minutes, maybe three hours

Depends on how he feels and how invested he gets

One things for sure, he’s not done with you until you’re practically thrashing against your restraints as you desperately try to quell the overstimulation

“You sound pathetic, whining like that…this is what happens when you underestimate me, human! This is all your fault…”

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me smut #lucifer obey me #lucifer headcanons #lucifer smut #mammon obey me #mammon headcanons #mammon smut #leviathan obey me #leviathan headcanons #leviathan smut #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader

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itstheoneshot · 6 months

Text

Kinktober Day 27

Aphrodisiacs - Yeosang

!dom Yeosang

Yeosang was smart, so much smarter than he gave on. He did research, as did you, science, natural remedies, plants that could alter your state, and his current fascination was with chemicals that increase your libido.

“Drink up,” He urges you, “I promise, it tastes good.”

You lift the cup to your mouth, the sweet aroma fills your nostrils as you let the liquid enter your mouth. Hot tea, herbal, a concoction created by the man sitting across from you who is consuming the same beverage. He was correct, it did taste good, warming your insides immediately. Yeosang reaches over to take your hand, staring at you lovingly at first… and then hungrily.

You were sceptical that a few herbs, leaves and spices could make you feel this way, but your cheeks warm up from not just the temperature, and that warmth continues downwards, tingling, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end, and alerting you to the source and centre of that heat.

“Come,” Yeosang murmurs, “Finish it.”

There was only a mouthful left, and you drink it quickly before placing the now empty cup down on the table. Yeosang squeezes your hand gently, feeling that same warmth, his eyes focus in on the way that you lick your lips to catch a stray droplet before he looks up at you again. It is exciting, partaking in his little experiments when they benefit you just as much as it does him.

“This was different to the last one,” You observe, “What should I expect?”

Yeosang chuckles, “Just feel it, my love… just let your body feel the way that it makes you.”

You follow Yeosang out of the dining room and barely make it a metre down the hall before you really begin to understand. Drawn to him more than usual, are you imagining this? Yeosang feels it too, turning you to face him with ease and stepping you back up against the wall with a fiery kiss, a warning of what is about to come. He is eager, dragging you down the hallway without pulling away, it is messy and desperate, each second apart is too long, he needs you and you need him now.

Finally reaching your bedroom, in an attempt to take control you pull him down on top of you, but not thinking it through, you have given him all of the power. With him hovering over you, your legs spread apart to give him space between them just so that you can wrap them around him, desperately trying to get him closer as if there were any space between you in the first place. Your hands slip under his shirt, needing it off him, needing to feel those perfectly sculpted muscles, a request which he happily obliges, only pulling back from the kiss for a moment to remove the clothing before he begins to work on yours. You don’t know which of you is more attracted, obsessed, and you swear you have never needed him like this before.

“Holy shit.”

It takes mere minutes to be fully undressed, you are already dripping, and Yeosang is rock hard, as he enters you without preparation, but you didn’t need it anyway. He fills you up, but again, this time it feels different. Increased pleasure, increased attraction, was this really all from a single cup of homemade herbal tea? You cry out his name as he pulls back to thrust into you again, letting your legs fall so that you can use your strength to lift yourself up and give him a better angle to fuck you in. Your back is arched and he reaches depths that he could not normally, his eyes roll back in his head and low moans leave him in harmony with yours of a much higher pitch.

“Good girl,” He praises you, “Do you believe me now?”

You weren’t really sceptical, you knew that there had to be some merit to the drink, and all the ingredients in it, maca root, ginseng, yin yang huo, what else was there again? but you had no idea that it would work so well. He fucks into you hard and fast, keeping you on edge for so long that you fear you are going to go crazy.

“Yes,” You nod enthusiastically, quickly remembering to answer him, “Yes, Yeosang, oh fuck, yes!”

The focus of his kisses soon move from your lips, to your jaw, and down your neck. They move back up, right to your ear, heavy breathing against it has your mind racing, vision blurring, you have got to be close. Your fingers tangle in his long black hair, soft to the touch, everything feels different now, in the best way possible. His skin is soft and smooth, muscles more… hard, veiny, and oh god, his cock, curved just a little, each thrust into you helps you up, up, up, and over… orgasming in his arms, so overwhelmed that you start to cry from the intensity of the pleasure. One orgasm leads to two, three, again you feel that nothing has ever felt this fucking good. You need him like oxygen, and you could go for hours if your body allowed it.

You are practically screaming when Yeosang finally pulls out, his hand racing to his cock to pump it only a few times before he releases, the force of his load so hard that it reaches your neck. Watching him while your own legs shake with the aftershocks of your high, mind still racing, body still reeling from the help that you had, it is too much, and you are already counting down for another round. You glance down at your body, stomach and chest slicked with his seed, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. Yeosang leans down to kiss you, not caring about the mess, just wanting to be with you, unable to be apart. It is hot, the hottest you have ever felt, not quite sure if you can find the words to describe it.

“I hope you kept that recipe,” You murmur in between a deep kiss, “I will definitely want us to drink that again.”

———

kinktober masterlist

#kinktober #kpop kinktober #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #yeosang #kang yeosang #yeosang fanfic #yeosang smut #ateez yeosang #ateez yeosang fanfic #ateez yeosang smut

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etheries1015 · 5 months

Text

"Oh?" Sariel said amusingly to the cold blonde prince, "I figured you two would get along nicely, seein as (y/n) is the author of one of your favorite books." Chevalier paused, eyes widening slightly in shock before going reverting back to normal cold stare.

"Oh!" You chirped up, "you've read my books? which one is your favorite?" You chuckled excitingly, not getting much of a reaction out of the brutal beast.

"I was not aware you were an author," Chev said, looking at you, "Be that is it may; You do not seem to conduct yourself the way you write." You scrunched your nose together and pursed your lips.

"Ouch," You chuckled, "What a backhanded compliment, thank you."

"Huh?" Luke chimed in with a tilted head, "But when looking into your background your name wasn't anywhere linked to any sort of author," He pointed out, a smile of admiration playing on his features. You shrugged before teasingly responding, "Haven't you heard of a pen name?" Raising an impressed eyebrow, Noktos lips curled up in a sly smile. "Oh? You'll have to tell me what it is, so I can read it myself, I would love to see what our precious Belle can do. Do you have a copy with you?"

Clavis roared out in laughter, pulling a very familiar book from behind his back, handing it over to Nokto. Where had he gotten that? Nobody knows, and never will, I suppose.

"I had already known of your writing endeavors!" He boasted, "Yours truly even took a read. Although, I fear your story lacks a very distinct amount of fun..."

Silvio, who was also listening in, decided to take the liberty of snatching the book out of Noktos hand, asking what only any businessman would ask.

"So...how much of a profit have ya made off of your books?" He studied it dubiously in hand, feeling the grooves of the spine and quality of the pages, "You must be pretty well off if it's considered the 'brutal beasts' favorites." With a haughty smile, he naturally threw in, "If I like it enough, I might even invest in it, if you'll make a deal with me, I'll be sure all of Benetoite knows your name, lady." Sighing slightly you gave him a side glance before rolling your eyes.

"I make enough to be content. what matters is that others enjoy my writing, not how much I make off of it." You replied bluntly. Silvio only scoffed before keith also gave his two cents, holding out his hand for Silvio to hand him your book. With a startled look, his eyes lit up in excitement.

"I've read this book! you wrote it? I'm a huge fan of all of your works, the way you write is so mesmerizing it's difficult to put it down! Would you mind uh- ah..." He stopped himself with a blush tainting his cheeks, "I'm sorry! You must not like being bombarded with all of my questions. I-" You interrupted Keith with a hearty chuckle.

"Don't worry Keith, let's have tea and sweets sometime and you can ask me all you want." You threw a side glance at Chevalier, "You're welcome to join as well, Prince Chevalier." He glanced up from his paperwork in hand only for a mere second, enough for you to understand he heard what you had suggested.

"Ah-" Keith started as Gilberts hand snaked from behind and snatched the book out of his hand, flipping the book to it's back to read the synopsis. He looked up at you with his piercing red eye, his smile unwavering as he tucked the hardcover under his arm.

"A noblewoman writing a book in an alias," He hummed, "I believe any other would like their name to be well known, to bring up their family name and increase the likelihood of their popularity," You froze in place and glanced around the room for an awkward moment, trying to think of some excuse to tell the Obsidianite prince. After a moment of silence, he let out a low giggle, turning on his heel and heading out the door.

"I'm only teasing, little rabbit. Thank you for the book, I sincerely hope you do not disappoint. After all, if he (chev) likes it, surely it must have its merits. I will find you when I'm done, I want to join in on your little tea party to discuss my thoughts as well." You sucked in your breath as he left the room, your pursed lips coming apart with a 'pop!'.

"Well," You chuckled nervously, grabbing the drink Silvio had graced you with and lifting it in the air before downing the contents, "Here's to hoping he likes the book!"

#Ikemen prince #Ikepri #Ikemen prince x reader #Ikepri x reader #Clavis lelouch #Ikemen fanfic #Chevalier michel #Silvio ricci #Gilbert von obsidian #Keith Howell #Nokto Klein #Luke randolph #Ikemen prince fanfic

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xiaosonlybeloved · 9 months

Text

Not meant to be~ Rin Itoshi

featuring:- Rin Itoshi, fem!reader, _________ warnings:- aftermath of argument, accident, good ol' truck kun, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, some mentions of blood a/n:- omg here its finally here, my first blue lock fic, ngl im scared of the response since ive only written for genshin before but oh well-

I guess i have to thank @damyoujackson, my irl bff for helping me write this( honestly i couldnt figure out how the hell to start the fic, she helped me with that and it somehow turned into her helping me in three-fourth of the fic) i actually have another fic planned to (on my own merit) but ill wait for my exams to get over

word count:- 2k

masterlist

Raised voices. Angry tears. That’s all you could remember. Rin’s cold, emotionless face when he told you to go. Go wherever the hell you wanted. Because he. Didn’t. Care. The way you stormed out of the apartment, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

His face flashed before your eyes again. You remembered the face you both hate and love now. You remember all the heartbreak he’s been causing you recently. You remember Rin Itoshi.

*******

You get into the taxi you booked to go to Isagi’s house. You’d already planned to visit him and Bachira anyways. Now, maybe if you were lucky, they’d let you stay the night over. There is a strange scent in the car but you can’t put a finger on it.

You take a few deep breaths. Once you’re sufficiently calmed down, you take out your phone and block Rin. Everywhere. His socials. His phone, his chat. Everything. Right now, all you really want is to distance yourself and your aching heart from Rin. Because it hurt. Staying with him, loving him, hurt. A fresh tear rolled down your face as the car sped onto the highway after around ten minutes.

And thats when the chills ran down your spine.

Something was wrong, you realized. Something wasn’t righ-

*******

It happened in an instant, too quick for you to comprehend.

As you felt the warm liquid trickling down your face, you recognise the strong scent of wine that filled the whole car, emanating from the driver, and the smell of your own blood.

The next instant, it all went black.

~◍~

Rin’s call goes to voicemail for the tenth time. His messages are still undelivered. It’s been ten minutes, and Rin can’t help but feel uneasy, feel like something was wrong.

He shook his head. Who was he even kidding. Of course things were wrong. And he was the reason why. He was the who’d lost his temper, yelled at you to get lost, refused to apologise even though none of it was your fault; you were only trying to look out for him after all. Regret settled in the pit of his stomach, and he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t mean any of that, he really didn’t, it all slipped out in the heat of the moment because of his pride. You were the reason his life was worth living, and all he wanted right now was you back in his arms safe and sound.

He couldn’t stand the silence that pervaded the room anymore. He wanted to see you. Make sure you were alright, even if you were hurting inside because of him

His keys jingled as he locked the door behind him and hurried to his car.

*******

As Rin sped towards Isagi’s place, figuring that’s where you went since you had already planned to go, he felt something like dread seep into him, although he didn’t know why. Goosebumps rose on his skin as he drove onto the highway, and the reason for it was visible in the form of a crowd gathered around what seemed like a truck collided into a taxi. His sense of foreboding increased.

As he neared the crash site, the first thing he saw was blood seeping out of the shattered windows of the car. He frowned as he slowed down, seeing the flashing lights and wailing sirens of the ambulance making its way towards the crash. Finally, he saw the limp bodies, presumably of the drivers and a passenger.

His car screeched to a halt as he froze, seeing a nurse lift up one of the limp bodies to hurry them into the ambulance.

He saw your limp body being hauled into the ambulance.

*******

Rin silently sat in the ambulance, staring at what he’d done. The nurse who was working to bring you into a stable condition gave him a look of pity. Pity. That’s probably why the nurse had allowed him to get into the ambulance with you.

He couldn’t fathom it.

It was his fault. If he hadn’t yelled at you like that, you wouldn’t have left. If he had just dropped you off, you wouldn’t have gotten injured.

Rin knew. He knew he’d broken the promise he’d passionately made you when you two started dating- that he’d keep you safe.

For the first time in years, a tear slipped out of the corner of his eyes, then another. Not a single sound. Just the tears silently streaking Rin’s face.

He’d messed up. Real bad.

~◍~

There you were, lying unconscious on the bed. You always looked so peaceful asleep. Not like you had been all those wakeful, sleepless nights with him recently.

He caressed your face, like he had done so many times before. By this point, he had all the contours of your face memorised. He had lost you. He knew that. He knew you were in a coma, but who knew how long you’d be gone? Rin felt a lump rise in his throat.

Why?

Why had it been you? Why not anyone else? Why you? You had never done anything to deserve this, if anything, he was the one who deserved this. Unable to bear the sight of you, hurt because of him ,anymore, he got up hastily and walked away, gently closing the hospital door behind him.

“Why were you with her?” Rin heard a voice say, one that grated on his nerves. His jaw set, he turned around to see him. “What do you mean? She’s my girlfriend, she’s the one I love, and she’s hurt. Shouldn’t I be with her?” Rin spoke, the anger on seeing him seeping into his voice. What right did he have to interfere with Rin’s life? He saw a scowl spread across the face of the man in front of him. “No, Rin, you’ve lost the right to. You’re the reason why she’s here. You’re the one who hurt her. Do you really think she’d want to see you after all of this? No, Rin. Not when you’re the reason why she’s… she’s…” His voice cracks, his incomplete sentence hanging tensely in the air.

And Rin watched, eyes wide, as a tear slipped out of his eyes. Sure, Rin crying was one thing. But him? Not when he knew that emotions didn’t come easy to either of them. He must care about her a lot too. It caused an ugly feeling to bubble in his chest.

“Stay away, she’s mine. You have no right to be here.” Rin snapped, causing him to retort. “I have no right? I have no right? Look who’s freaking talking.”

“She was yours, Rin. She was yours. Not anymore.”

“You’ve lost her now.”

~◍~

White, white everywhere. Your eyes stung ike tehy did every time Rin made you cry. You sat up and the world spun. You saw a hand on yours. Rin? His touch felt a bit different, but the eyes you caught with yours were ones you would never get tired of losing yourself staring into. And yet, as the world gradually came into focus, you saw that no, it wasn’t Rin after all. It was him.

“How are you?” He softly asked. Those three words lingered in the air between you two, echoing in your mind. So long. It had been so long since you’d heard those three simple words. How laughable.

You didn’t respond for a while. You just couldn’t.. He didn’t press it either. The silence which fell between you two was in fact, comfortable. Certainly not like the tense, angry silences that fell ever so often between you and Rin recently after unresolved conflicts. They had been cold and unforgiving, just like how Rin had become.

Eventually you tried to speak, and found you couldn’t. Seeing this, he immediately grabbed a glass of water from the bedside stand and gently held it to your lips as you drank, one hand supporting your back.

This felt new. But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt warm and comforting.

“I… don’t know.” You responded to his earlier question. He simply set down the glass, took both of your hands in his, and squeezed them softly. “I’ll be here. It’ll be fine soon.” There was a silent promise in his quiet voice. That he’d stay with you.

Unlike Rin.

No wonder this felt comforting. This was the kind of support and comfort you’d been longing for from ages. You missed this feeling.

~◍~

Months had passed since that accident, and you had fully recovered, with no permanent damage. You had completely broken off things with Rin. It wasn’t because of the accident. You were simply too tired. It hurt. It hurt too much for you to be able to continue your relationship with him anymore.

It hurt you to admit it, but life had actually become brighter after you’d broken up with Rin. So you tried your best to get over him, build yourself a happier life.

‘It seems to be working,’ you thought to yourself, shoulders feeling considerably lighter, a spring in your step, on your way to meet him at the cafe.

~◍~

Years had passed. Old wounds were healed, both figuratively and literally. You’d found someone new. Someone who’d gently held your broken heart as he helped you repair it. Someone who you couldn’t help but love with everything in you. Someone who’d stayed with you through thick and thin. Someone you loved more than you had loved Rin.

Funny. Honestly, you barely remembered Rin anymore. Not when you’d found someone better.

~◍~

Rin was miserable, to say the least. He’d barely been able to focus on anything, throwing himself into soccer in entirety. Because if he didn’t, if he let his mind wander, regret and guilt would consume him whole, and his mind would return to the last time he’d seen you. When you’d softly told him that you couldn’t do this anymore. Not with him. When you’d broken up with him, wishing him all the best for his career.

Forget it. Even though you were a big part of his life, the only option he found was to try and forget you, no matter how impossible it seemed. It was the only way he could focus on soccer.

And yet, as he lay alone under the covers of his cold bed at night, body aching from exhaustion, he couldn’t hold back his intense longing for you to be back in his arms.

In the dead of night, he couldn’t deny just how much he missed you. In the dead of night, he couldn’t deny how much he wished everything was back to the way it used to be back then.

In the dead of night, he couldn’t deny that he would always remember you, no matter how much he tried to forget you.

~◍~

Rin stood there, face blank, numbness seeping through his body, as excited loud chatter surrounded him.

This couldn’t be happening.

He knew he should have been happy for you. But somehow, he was unable to.

You looked radiant and stunning as you walked down the aisle. The joy was more than evident in the way you carried yourself, a bright smile on your face as your gaze landed on him.

He couldn’t help but feel incredibly envious of the man standing in wait for you at the altar, a matching smile lighting up his usually emotionless face. Your to-be husband. As much as it shattered his heart, Rin knew that he hadn’t treated you well, that he wasn’t the one for you. That you were happy.

But it still hurt.

It hurt like hell when you both said ‘Yes’ without hesitation, when you both slipped your rings onto each other’s fingers, when the crowd around burst into rapturous applause as the two of you sealed your relationship.

Because the lips you kissed, the eyes you stared into, the hands you held, and the man you loved. It wasn’t him. It would never be him.

It was Sae Itoshi, the only one you remembered.

ngl i loved this

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